Damien: Billionaire Bad Boy Romance (50 page)

I shook my head. “Fuck off, Silas,” I said under my breath. “I don’t have fucking time for you right now.”

Silas reached forward and wrapped his fingers around my wrist, yanking my arm forward and making me spill my bag of groceries. The milk crashed to the ground and the plastic container cracked open, bleeding white all over my shoes.

“Fuck,” I mumbled.

Silas tightened his grip on me. “You’re not going anywhere, Victoria,” he said under his breath. “You’re coming with me.”

“No,” I hissed. “Leave me alone!”

“You’d better come back to me, Victoria,” Silas said, his voice low and heavy with warning. “You’d better. This is your final warning.”

Finally, I managed to yank my wrist free of his grasp. Stumbling backwards, I turned on my heel and ran towards the car. My heart was pounding in my chest and I thought Silas was right on my heels until I finally turned around.

No one was there.

“What was that?” Kitty climbed out of the car and stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Tori, what the hell happened?”

“Silas,” I said in a shaky voice. “I need to get out of here, Kit. Let’s go.”

Kitty got behind the wheel and gunned the car to life. I jumped in the passenger seat, gazing down at my wrists. Angry red bruises were starting to form right below the surface, and I knew that Silas would have done a lot worse if we hadn’t been in a public place.

“I hate him,” I mumbled. “I hate him so fucking much.”

“Tori, it’s over,” Kitty said in a soothing voice. She reached over to stroke my shoulder and I flinched. “I promise, he’s gone. He’s not going to bother you anymore.”

Right as Kitty spoke, I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh. Pulling it out, I saw that I had a message from Silas. Dread flashed through me and I closed my eyes, leaning my head back and letting out a long breath.
It’s okay, he can’t hurt you. You’re with a friend, he’s not here, you’re going to be okay
.

Forcing myself to open my eyes, I read his message:
I’ll gut you like a fish and toss your body in a drainage ditch unless you come back to me, Victoria.

I shuddered. It was like he’d somehow managed to break into my head, to make everything even more chaotic and awful than it had been before.

For the longest time I thought I could do this by myself. I didn’t think Silas was really capable of hurting me. That was rich, considering the amount of times he’d put me in the hospital while we were still together. I shouldn’t have been so stupid; I should have known better. But at least now I was starting to come around.

“Kit, I can’t go out with you tonight,” I said in an even, calm voice. “I have some things to take care of, okay?”

Kitty looked at me and frowned. Her blonde hair was swept over one shoulder and despite the scene in the parking lot, she looked as calm and collected as ever. She shrugged.

“Fine,” she said. “Suit yourself.”

I knew she was sore because she thought I was ditching her, but there was no way I could let her know the real truth: my life was in danger, and if I didn’t find someone to take care of me, I’d be dead before too much longer.

My stomach twisted into knots as I thought about my only viable options. Growing up with a father who led an MC had put me in contact with a lot of tough guys. In fact, I’d been around men who were bodyguard material since I was a little kid. But there was only one guy I knew who was capable of beating Silas at his own game. And that man was Max Adams, the new president of the Renegade Saints. Max was a few years older than me. He had shiny blue-black hair and dark eyes full of trouble. I could tell he was naturally pale, but all that time riding in the sun had given him an unlikely tan.

Oh, and there was one other little thing that I hadn’t thought about. Max may have killed my father in order to become leader of the Renegade Saints.

But now I didn’t have a choice. Killer or not, this man was still my best bet at protection from Silas and his evil plans.

Max

Yawning, I rolled over in bed until I hit a warm, unfamiliar lump.
Shit. She’s still here
.

“Good morning, baby,” an unfamiliar raspy female voice greeted me. I opened my eyes at the last possible second before a pair of wide red lips came at me. As gently as I could, I pushed her away.

“I don’t kiss in the mornings,” I said drily as I climbed out of bed and surveyed the mess I’d gotten myself into. “What are you still doing here?”

The woman pouted at me. She had crumbs of mascara in the corners of her eyes and her short black hair was tangled and standing on end. “You said something about making me breakfast,” she said, pouting. “And I want eggs and toast.”

I laughed. “Sorry, I must have been hammered,” I said with a grin. “I don’t have any food here. There’s a McDonald’s down the road, though.”

The woman stared at me. “Are you serious? Like I would eat that shit!”

I laughed again. “Honey, I don’t care what you eat, as long as you don’t eat it in my house,” I said. “Come on, get up. I can’t believe I even let you sleep here.”

“You didn’t want to,” the woman purred. She pulled her top off, exposing ripe, melon-like breasts with perfect brown nipples at the center. My mouth went dry and for a second I entertained the notion of fucking her again. Then, I remembered that I had business to attend to that day.

“Well, it’s time for you to leave now,” I said as business-like as I could manage it. “I have to get in the shower You can show yourself out.”

I yanked the briefs down from my hips and tossed them on the floor. The whole bedroom smelled like smoke and red wine, and my head was pounding. I didn’t even remember coming home last night, much less with a babe like this.

Turning on the spray of hot water, I climbed into the shower and moaned as I dipped my head under the showerhead. A good hot shower almost always helped me clear my head in the morning, even during the worst of hangovers. I laughed when I thought about last night. I’d gone out drinking with some of my buddies. It was supposed to be a low-key night, but as soon as we wore our colors into a local bar, the girls started swarming around us like bees. I remembered doing body shots, licking tequila out of some girl’s belly button, and making her squeal.

Even though my head was aching, my cock started to harden when I thought about all the little hard bodies who had been pressed against me last night.
Oh, yeah,
I thought, remembering how the girls had plastered themselves to me in various stages of undress.
I could really get used to this whole president thing
.

“Hey, Max,” a voice said. I whirled around and saw my companion from last night. She was standing naked in front of the shower and pouting at me. “Can I join?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, no co-showers,” I said with a smirk. “I don’t let women in my shower.”

She pouted again and pressed her naked body against the glass, sending me into a spasm of lust. “I need to get clean,” she said in a teasing voice. “Come on, please.”

I grinned. “Oh, what the hell,” I said. “Get your ass in here.”

Half an hour later, I was spent again and ready for a nap. The girl got dressed and left after I fucked her brains out in the shower. It was a Saturday, and I didn’t have plans until later. The guys and I were having a meeting at our headquarters. The Renegade Saints had a clubhouse that was outside of town, and I was supposed to meet the guys there for a drink and a chat about where we were going.

When Kristoff had been the president, he’d tried to turn the club around. In the not-so-distant past, we had kind of a sketchy reputation: guns and drugs. But now that Kristoff was dead, I was worried some of the guys were going to backslide in that direction. Personally, I wanted to keep my club legit. Bodyguarding and even opening a strip club or two were on the agenda for me. But some of the guys had been around for a long time, and I wasn’t sure how they would react to change.

I grinned as I climbed on the back of my hog. It was a perfect day outside—sunny with no clouds—and I loved feeling the fresh air on my bare arms as I drove outside of town. Marquette was a small suburb of Boston; not too far from the big city, but far enough to have its own little culture. It wasn’t the kind of place that I thought I’d always want to hang around in, but I didn’t mind it so much. Part of me felt like a failure for not moving on and going somewhere else with my life, but most of me was pretty fucking content to stick around Marquette, be a big fish in a small pond.
Yeah, a big fish in a small pond full of hot female fish
, I thought with a grin. Marquette may have been small, but there was a lot of pussy floating around.

“Yo,” I said, greeting Danny and Paul as I pulled up. Danny and Paul were both around my age; we’d grown up together. Their fathers had both been patched Renegade Saints, along with mine. That was how I’d been introduced to the club. My old man was Kristoff’s VP. When he died, I became Kristoff’s new right hand man.
Yeah, and everyone still thinks you killed him
, I realized.
Everyone still thinks you had something to do with his death
.

The notion made me uneasy. Kristoff had died during a drug deal gone bad. It was a black mark on the club; everyone who had wanted to stay in shady business had convinced Kristoff that we needed to make some ties on the black market. He’d done that and wound up dead. I figured that if anything, that was good incentive for staying on the legal side of shit.

“Yo, prez,” Danny greeted me, slapping my back heartily when I climbed off my hog. “You look like a man who’s just been well-laid.”

I grinned. “Matter of fact, I had a little fun in the shower,” I teased. “What’s yo’ deal? You sore about somethin’?”

Danny shook his head. “Just on guard, man,” he said with a grin. “We got company.”

He pointed across the lot and my mouth went dry as I watched a gorgeous redhead climb out of a car. She was tall and leggy, with long flaming hair and a wide, red mouth. I wanted to grab her in my arms and crush her to me with a powerful kiss before slipping my hand between her thighs and making her squeal.

“So, you said you had a good night?” Danny grinned up at me.

I’d already forgotten about the brunette in my bed. “It was alright,” I said with a wink as I loped over to the girl. “I’ll be right back.”

As I approached her, she pinked and stopped dead in her tracks. When I got closer, I was shocked. I recognized this girl. I’d practically grown up with her, too. She was Victoria, Kristoff’s daughter.

“Hi, Max,” she said softly. Her eyes were staring at the ground. I frowned. I remembered Victoria as being a real spitfire. She wasn’t the kind of girl to just stay quiet and take whatever was coming her way.

“What’s got you down?”

She looked up at me with her liquid green eyes and I felt something like lust uncoil in my lower belly. “I want to talk to you,” she replied, louder this time. She took her sunglasses off and perched them on her head, stretching and exposing a tiny strip of taut skin under her shirt.

“Okay, shoot,” I said, rubbing my hands together in front of me. “What’s the deal, Vic?”

She shook her head. “No one calls me that anymore,” she said, blushing. “It’s Tori now.”

I rolled my eyes. “That makes you sound like some dumb sitcom character,” I told her. “But Tori it is.”

Victoria followed me inside. She didn’t speak until I seated her down at the bar and slid a cold glass of beer into her head. Even in the dim light of our HQ, I could tell she was shaky and scared. Like something real bad had happened. She lifted the frosted mug to her lips and drank deeply, like the liquid was nourishing and she needed as much of it as she could get.

The guys followed me inside. “Yo, Max, you got yourself a looker!” one of them yelled. He was obviously a newcomer.

“Fuck off, man,” I said with irritation. “This is Victoria, she’s Kristoff’s daughter.”

The guys stared. “Holy shit,” one of them breathed. “Sorry, lady.”

Victoria had the grace to laugh. “It’s Tori, actually,” she said, tossing her long hair. I caught a whiff of cinnamon and vanilla and that same powerful bolt of lust coursed through my body. I wanted her like nobody’s business, and I wanted to make her mine. Despite that, something was holding me back. I could tell that Tori was really shaken, like something bad had happened. Her forehead was gleaming with sweat and she looked disoriented.

“Gotcha,” I said. “Hey, guys, give us a minute, alright?”

The men all grumbled but acquiesced, getting up and strolling outside, beers in hand. When the last one of my guys had walked off, I turned to Tori.

“You know you can come to me with anything,” I told her firmly. Her green eyes stared directly into mine. “You can always talk to me, Tori.”

She blushed slightly and I was struck with the powerful urge to wrap my arm around her and bring her close for a kiss.

“My ex won’t leave me alone,” she started.

Oh, great,
I thought.
She didn’t break up with a guy who keeps calling her, and now she’s off crying wolf
. This kind of thing had happened before a couple of times. A few girls who hung out with the club got a little sick of their boyfriends. But usually, it was a misunderstanding.
People need to learn how to fuckin’ talk to each other
, I thought.

“Okay,” I said with a smile. “You want me to talk to him?”

Tori licked her lips nervously. “No,” she said immediately. “No, and I know what you’re thinking, Max. But it’s worse than that.” She put her wrists on the table and I immediately saw the rash of grey and red bruises on her delicate skin. “We broke up a month ago and he’s stalking me,” she explained. “I kicked him out and he stays around my apartment all the time, taking pictures and threatening me whenever I leave. I had my friend, Kitty, staying with me, but I finally told her to go home because she didn’t understand how dangerous Silas could be. I didn’t want her to get hurt, too.”

“Fuck,” I said softly, pulling Tori’s wrists closer and examining the bruises. “This is some bad shit, Tori. How long has this been going on?”

She shrugged. “A long time,” she finally answered, averting my eyes. “I…I don’t feel safe, Max.”

“No shit,” I said, letting out a low whistle. Just then, Tori reached a hand up and swept her red mane from one shoulder to the other. I could see the mottled imprint of fingers around her throat. Rage filled my body, replacing every other emotion inside of me. I couldn’t believe that someone would throw the daughter of a former Renegade Saints leader around. He was practically
asking
for a death sentence.

“I’m afraid he’s really going to hurt me,” Tori continued, oblivious to my rage. “He…he’s following me all the time, and I don’t feel safe.”

Before Kristoff died, I promised him that I’d always protect his Victoria. Now, I was angry that I hadn’t seen the signs sooner than this. It was my fault, my responsibility that she’d been hurt. I knew that Silas must have done worse than the bruises. Abuse didn’t just randomly start. They’d been together for years; who knew how badly he could have hurt her already?

“Can you tell me more about Silas?” I took Tori’s hands in my own and looked into her face. She was beautiful, with a perfect bone structure. Her lips were slightly too full, but they had a sexy, bee-stung look that made me want to suck on them. Her green eyes were like jeweled orbs in her skull, and there was a look of fierce determination and intelligence about her.

To my alarm, Tori started to cry.