Chaos Bound (3 page)

“I’ll take care of the guard,” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel in the least. “Just stay out of my way.”

“How are you going to jump him when you can’t stand?”

“I’ll lean.” He braced himself against the wall and willed his legs to push. “Help me up.”

Naiya came up under his arm and helped him up. “This is the last time I’m doing this until we get out of here,” she said. “You smell worse than my grandfather’s socks, and that’s saying something because he boasted he only washed them once a year.”

That sound again—laughter—erupted from his throat. Naiya looked up and smiled.

“I was worried about you for a while there. Thought maybe they’d done your head in. Viper likes his little mind games. He twisted my mom when she young, and she was never the same again.”

Holt frowned. “Viper … your dad?”

“God no.” Naiya recoiled. “One of the Jacks is my dad, but my mom never told me which one, and I don’t care because I want nothing to do with them. I don’t think she ever knew. I honestly don’t understand it. She didn’t want to have a baby. She told me all the time that I ruined her life, her body, her status in the club … I mean, if you’re life’s ambition is to be an MC sweet butt and your currency is your body, why not make the guy wear a condom so you don’t get pregnant? No glove. No love. That’s my motto. Well, it would be my motto if I slept around…”

Sex
. She was talking about sex. He hadn’t thought about sex since the day Viper imprisoned him in the dungeon. In the daily fight for survival, sex was the least of his concerns. But now that she brought it up, a woman with her looks and that lush body should have men falling over themselves to be with her. Maybe she had a man. But then where was he? If she had been his, no fucking way would he let Viper near her. And if Viper did get his hands on her, he’d be moving hell and earth to get her back. Like he would have done for any of his brothers. Like they didn’t do for him.

Lucky for the man who had her. Holt had long given up hope of ever being with a woman again after what Viper had put him through. And Holt loved women. He loved their softness and their curves. He loved the musical lilt to their voices and the silk of their hair. He’d been with many women, but he’d never had a woman of his own. Not since he’d failed his sister, Lucy. Not since the day she died. Even if he got out of here, that torture would never end.

“You okay?” Naiya touched his cheek, bringing him back to the moment.

What the hell?
He had to focus. They had one chance to get out of here and one chance only. And it was all up to him.

“Maybe I should stab the guard.” She ran her finger along the flat of the blade. “We learned all about stab wounds in one of my courses at college. Did you know that if the direction of the force is perpendicular to the skin, then it’s considered a stab wound? But if the direction of the force is tangential or parallel to the skin, then it’s considered a cut wound? If we want to slow him down, we’ll need to stab.” She made a thrusting motion with her fist. “Rather than cut.” She drew the knife down, and Holt jerked away.

So, she was smart as well as pretty. “You ever kill someone, darlin’?” The more he talked the worse he sounded. Hoarse, rough. So unlike himself. But then all he’d used his voice for over the last three months was screaming.

“No.” Naiya paled, looked away, her hesitation belying her bravado. “I just … read about it. And study it. Death, I mean. And crimes leading to death. So really, it’s just theoretical. And I was just thinking about wounding him, not killing him.”

His tension eased the tiniest bit. Okay, maybe she wasn’t crazy, but she wasn’t living in the real world if all she did was read and study about death, or if she thought she’d have enough control to stab an enraged man without killing him. She certainly didn’t have the life experience to put her plan into action.

“Can’t let you do it.” Holt tightened his grip on the dagger. “If it goes wrong, you’ll never get over it.”

“You’ve done it? Killed someone?”

“Yeah.” Holt shrugged, feeling neither shame nor remorse. Like her, he’d done what it took to survive. First as a member of a street gang in Laredo, Texas, and then as a full patch brother in the Sinner’s Tribe. He didn’t enjoy killing. But if it came down to his life or the lives of his brothers, he had no hesitation pulling the trigger. “And I’ll do it again.” He gritted his teeth when his legs trembled, protesting their use after so many months of inactivity. “You gonna scream and give us away?”

“Do I look like a screamer?” Naiya let out an irritated breath. “I just offered to stab the guy. I’m not about to start jumping around and waving my hands in the air whimpering that I can’t deal with the sight of blood. I lived in Black Jack party central from when I was nine years old. I saw all the things parents are terrified their kids will see. You name it, I was there. I just can’t handle the dark. But other than that, I don’t even scream when I see spiders or mice. In fact, I keep them as pets.”

“Pets?”

“I’m messing with you, Holt.” Her lips turned up at the corners. “Defense mechanism. Inappropriate humor. Maybe ’cause we’re in Viper’s dungeon and he’s about to send his brothers down to kill you and chain me to his bed. And you’re weak and beaten down and can’t stand, and even if we get out, we still have to get through the yard and away from the clubhouse without a vehicle. But at least we have a plan. Things could be worse.”

“Worse?”

“We could be naked.”

He couldn’t help it. His gaze travelled down her body, drinking in her curves, the crescents of her breasts beneath her black tank top, her narrow waist, full hips, and long lean legs. He imagined her naked, soft creamy skin beneath his palms, dusky rose nipples begging for his touch. His cock stirred, and for the first time he wondered if Viper hadn’t broken him after all.

Naiya swallowed hard and dipped her head, and her sudden shyness aroused him even more. “Definitely worse,” she mumbled.

He heard footsteps outside the door, the rattle of keys.

The door opened. Just a crack, and then wider.

TWO

“Let me out of here.” Naiya threw herself at the guard, beating his chest to distract him from Holt who was leaning against the wall behind the door with the knife in his hand.

Dammit.
Why didn’t he move?

She grabbed the guard’s cut and shook him, doing her best to feign terror. “I can’t take it. I’m afraid of the dark. I’ll do anything. Tell Viper. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Jesus. Fuck. Get off me.” The guard swatted at her, but Naiya held on, keeping his back to Holt.

Still, Holt didn’t move. What the hell was he waiting for? An invitation? Goddamnit. This was what happened when you didn’t have a plan. Clutching the guard’s cut, she slammed her knee into his groin. He doubled over with a grunt and she caught a blur of motion behind him. Holt’s knife flashed and the guard dropped like a stone, blood dripping from his neck onto the concrete floor.

Holt stumbled to the side and Naiya caught him before he fell.

“I was worried for a moment there. Thought you might not be up to the task.” She felt curiously unmoved by the guard’s death. Maybe because his wasn’t the first violent death she’d witnessed—by the time she turned eleven years old, she’d seen two stabbings, a shooting, and a strangling, all in her mother’s apartment. Maybe she was in shock. She hadn’t really expected Holt to kill him, just slow him down. Or maybe it was because the guard was one of the Jacks who had held her down in Viper’s office that terrible night and part of her believed he deserved what he got.

Holt snorted, wiped the knife on his jeans. “It’s about timing. Knowing when to act. Rolling with the punches.”

“I’ll remember that next time I have to slit someone’s throat.” Nausea finally roiled in her belly, and she pushed the sick feeling away. They had taken a life. And although she wasn’t the one who had wielded the knife, she was complicit in the crime. A wave of panic washed through her, and she was profoundly grateful Holt had taken on the burden himself. For all that she studied death and spent her free time reading suspense novels and watching crime shows, and for all the violence she’d witnessed in her life, she was pretty sure, when it came down to it, she couldn’t have done the job.

Naiya peered out the door and into the night. “Step one. Completed. Now for step two. Hopefully it can be accomplished without bloodshed.” She couldn’t look at the man on the ground as Holt rifled through his pockets, but his grunt of pleasure drew her attention.

“Bike key.” He held up a black, circular key fob. “We’ll ride out of here in style.”

Naiya fought back a groan. “Now we have the beginning of a plan. And an end. How about we work on the middle?”

“We’re gonna have to improvise the middle bit.” He patted down the fallen guard, relieving him of his wallet, his weapon and the holster around his waist. “Problem solved.”

“Ah, it’s the old shoot ’em as you go routine.” Naiya couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Nice and discrete. Definitely won’t draw the attention of the fifty or so Black Jacks partying inside.”

Holt tugged the Black Jack cut over the guard’s shoulders and yanked off his T-shirt. “Put these on me. He’s got the same hair color as me. Pretty much the same size. I’ll keep my head down. You hide your face in case they recognize you. I’ll lean on you and you giggle. Make like we’re drunk.”

“I’m not a giggly drunk,” she protested. “I’m not even a giggly person. I’m more the serious type. Maybe you didn’t notice with all the dancing and singing I was doing.” Naiya helped him on with the T-shirt and cut, catching his grimace as he slid the Black Jack colors over his broad shoulders.

Despite the beatings he had taken, and the lack of sustenance, he still had more muscles than the men she’d dated until she hooked up with her current boyfriend, Maurice. And Holt was tall—an inch or two over six feet, she guessed—and that face … she could imagine women falling over themselves for a taste of him. Even the bruises couldn’t hide the chiseled planes and angles of his jaw, the wide, sensuous mouth, or those blue eyes … so piercing they shone in the dim light.

“And I’m not a fucking Jack. Pretend.”

Naiya startled at his sharp tone, but when she saw the tremor in his hand as he tucked the gun into the holster around his waist, she forgave him. He’d clearly been a prisoner for a long time, and if they didn’t make it out, Viper would finish the job he thought he’d finished days ago.

“Sorry. I’m not good at pretend either.”

His face softened, and he stroked her cheek. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Sure.” She took up her position under his shoulder, bearing his weight as they breached the doorway, her cheek against the cool leather of his cut.

No. A Black Jack cut.

Naiya slid out from under his shoulder. After spending years in the biker world, she understood the importance of a biker’s cut. It meant more to him than his bike. His cut was his heart, his soul, his bond to his brothers and his club. “Your cut. I’ll get it.”

“No.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just be a second.” She ran back inside, balled up his cut, and tucked it under her arm.

“Good to go.” She slipped back under his shoulder and Holt grunted.

“Just leave it.”

“Really, Holt. It’s okay. I know what the cut means. I’ve turned it inside out and folded it. No one will see your patches.”

“Not my colors anymore,” he muttered as he pulled the door closed behind them. “Not my club.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he took a step forward, and Naiya slid an arm around his waist. Hopefully, they wouldn’t draw the attention of the guards, ever present around a biker clubhouse to protect them from enemies, and especially from an enemy as formidable as the Sinner’s Tribe.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

A friend that could assure her safety. And her future. Especially after her stupidity in Viper’s bedroom this afternoon.

They crossed the compound with slow, halting steps, arms wrapped around each other, heads bowed. Naiya’s heart thudded in her chest, and she pressed her cheek against Holt’s side.

“How far?” he whispered.

“Their bikes were parked out front. About one hundred and fifty yards to go. There’s a guard ahead.”

“Start giggling.” He dug his fingers into her side and she snorted a laugh.

“Stop. I’m ticklish.”

“That’s the idea.” He tickled her again, and she laughed.

“Rafe?” A voice echoed in the darkness. Naiya looked up at the name patch on the cut Holt wore.

“That’s you,” she murmured, pulling him back a few steps. “Stay in the shadows.”

“Yeah.” Holt lowered his voice to a husky growl as footsteps approached from the direction of the clubhouse.

“You check on Viper’s new bitch? He’s getting impatient. He’s waited a long time for another taste of that pussy.”

Naiya choked back a breath and shoved her face into Holt’s side. He smelled vile—sweat and blood laced with decay—and yet his body was warm and solid, his arm tight around her shoulders.

“She’s still screaming and making a fuss. Knocked her around a bit and cut the lights. An hour in the dark with the rats and that dead Sinner, and she’ll be ready for him.” Holt’s voice was thick, hoarse, and scratchy.

“Viper likes them broken.” The biker stepped in front of them, and Holt ground to a stop, dipping his head. His hand slid to the gun tucked into the holster around his waist. Naiya could feel his heart thudding in his chest.

“Who you got there?”

“Piece of tail I found in a bar.”

“Piece of tail?” she whispered, indignant.

Holt dug his finger into Naiya’s side and she forced a giggle through clenched teeth. How could he be so calm?

“Gonna take her home. Too drunk to do much with.”

The biker grabbed Naiya’s hair and gave it yank. “They don’t need to do anything except lie on the bed and spread their legs. If you don’t want her, I’ll have a piece.”

A shudder ran through Naiya’s body, and she tightened her grip on Holt, pressing her forehead into his chest. Nonononononono. Not again. She couldn’t go through it again. A soft whimper of fear escaped her lips and Holt’s body tensed.