The Soldiers of Wrath MC 1 Owned by the Bastard (2 page)

The truth was she hated him, despised everything that he was, but being there for him had been her mom’s dying wish, and so she was seeing it through to the very bitter end.

She climbed out of the car, glanced around the street, and saw a woman standing on the corner in fishnets, a black pleather mini skirt, and a cropped shirt. Deanna moved quickly toward the door, knocked on it once when she reached it, and looked behind her again. The sound of what had to be a gunshot echoed, and she grabbed the door handle and turned it. Fuck this and waiting for him to get his druggie ass up.

Once inside, she shut the door and wrinkled her nose. It stunk like a warm, humid armpit, and didn’t look any better. Trash littered the ground, graffiti marred the walls, and the sound of someone coughing in the next room had her turning and walking toward the noise. The living room was a mess of ratty, holed-up couches, stained covered drapes, garbage and hypodermic needles on the ground. And there was her dad, passed out on the couch with a middle-aged naked woman on his lap. They were both sleeping with their mouths hanging open, and the stench of piss and body odor lingered in the air.

“Dad?” she called out to him. The woman stirred slightly, but her father only gave a loud snore in response. He shifted on the couch, slowly cracked open an eye, and then pushed himself up, groaning.

“Hey there. Didn’t hear you.” He pushed the naked woman off of him. She fell to the ground with a
thump
, but didn’t make so much as a sound.

“I’ve been calling you.”

He stood, grabbed his cell off the coffee table, and looked at it. “Oh, yeah. You’ve called me a few times.”

“Try for the last three days. I know you don’t care about your life, and I shouldn’t really either, but I made a promise to Mom. The least you can do is pick up the phone.”

He was busy typing something out on his phone, glancing up at her every few seconds, and then closed the phone shut. He set it back on the coffee table, very slowly, too slowly for her liking, and stared at her. She looked around the hovel again, knew that he was still high or he’d be tweaking more than usual, and lifted her hand to rub her eyes. She was so tired of this shit. Deanna needed to wash her hands of him, because all he was doing was bringing her down.

He picked up his glass pipe, put some white crystals in the bowl, and then lifted it to his mouth. She turned away disgusted after he heated the end of the pipe with a lighter. Here he was, smoking meth right in front of her like it wasn’t anything, like she wasn’t his daughter and standing here watching.

“You’re doing good?” he asked in a tight voice as he held in the toxic smoke.

“What’s wrong with you? Aside from the obvious,” Deanna said, knowing he was acting stranger than usual.

“Nothing now.” He exhaled the smoke, set his pipe down, and sat back on the couch. “You want something to eat or drink?”

Deanna didn’t even bother responding because there wasn’t any food or anything sanitary to consume in this shithole.

The sound of motorcycles in the distance, coming closer, becoming louder, had her moving toward the dirty, cloudy window. She saw three massive Harleys pull into her dad’s driveway, blocking in her crappy car, and then cutting the engines. “You expecting three big ass bikers?” she asked without turning around. The men climbed off their bikes, removed their sunglasses in unison, and she swore the one in front stared right at her. They moved forward in sure, arrogant, and deadly steps, and something inside of her went on alert. She moved away from the window, turned and faced her father, and saw him pacing.

“I’m sorry, Deanna. I had to tell them you were here, had to do this to get myself out of this mess. It was the only way, and they said they’d take a trade.”

A trade?

Deanna didn’t know what he was rambling on about, but when there was a loud banging on the front door, everything inside of her stilled. She knew she needed to run, and she needed to do it now.

D
emon banged on
the door, waiting for it to be answered. He didn’t like the response he felt at seeing the bastard father’s text. The name of the man was unnecessary to him. Once they took the daughter, this bastard would cease to matter, as they would no longer be doing business with the fucker. This one and only debt would be paid out in flesh, his daughter’s flesh. The very thought made him sick to his stomach. He was going to stay back at the clubhouse instead of coming on this long journey to claim a woman that wasn’t his. Then he thought of the other brothers getting hard for her. He wasn’t risking her being passed between the brothers. They were a horny lot of men without a woman for a few hours. Deanna wouldn’t survive two minutes without one of the bastards trying to get between her creamy thighs.

You want first pick.

There was also the fact he wanted her before anyone else did. Demon liked to test out all the new women in the club. He rarely let anyone get past him, least of all fresh meat. That’s what Deanna would be to the Soldiers of Wrath, fresh meat. From the way she looked he doubted she’d be a virgin. She’d probably already had plenty of dick in that sweet pussy of hers.

“I wonder what’s taking him so long,” Shakes said, smiling.

“Bitch is probably loading up on our shit.” This came from Joker.

Shakes and Joker had joined him for the ride to collect their payment. Admittedly, taking a woman as payment wasn’t something he was used to. The women he took were always willing.

One look from Deanna and she’d be begging for all of them. Demon was confident in getting a woman into his bed. He had a big dick and knew how to use it. No woman left him unsatisfied. All of the club whores went out of their way to please him. Demon loved being able to snap his fingers and to have pussy on tap. Being the president of one of the biggest MCs gave him free access to it all.

Reaching out, he banged on the door, only to come up short when the redhead in question opened up.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

Her voice was small and he heard the wobble in it. Demon instantly didn’t like the nerves he was seeing inside her.

Cut that shit out.

It wouldn’t do him good to care about her. She was payment for services, nothing else.

Pushing past, he made sure to brush his body against hers. Her tits were large, fleshy, and he wanted to touch them, suck on them. His dick went into overdrive at the thought of getting her naked and fucking her.

Soon.

“Boys,” her father said, smiling at them.

There was a half-naked woman on the floor by the sofa. Demon turned his nose up at the state of the apartment and the smell. The scent of decay, sex, desperation, and fear clung in the air.

Glancing back at Deanna who still stood by the open door, he knew the fear came from her. She kept her gaze outside on her car. They’d trapped her vehicle in on purpose. There was no way she was getting out unless they allowed her out of their sight.

“Demon, take a seat. It’s good doing business with you.”

The father moved a little closer. Putting his hand in the man’s face, he pushed him off. “I’m not here to do business. I’m here to take what is mine.” He’d not gotten to be president of the Soldiers of Wrath by being nice. Demon was hard, cold, and lethal. No one saw any other side of him.

He didn’t look away from Deanna, who still hadn’t looked at him. She was going to be his no matter what.

Could she get
to her car, run the motorcycles out of the way, and be home before the three angry-looking bikers even noticed she was gone? Deanna kept looking at her old car, wishing she could see any sign of escape. There wasn’t any escape from this. The three men were scary, large, and could tear them all apart if they chose to.

Her mouth ran dry as she turned to face the room. Standing from the outside staring in, her father looked like a small bug that needed to be squashed. If she could, she’d take him out. Her mother was wrong all along. She shouldn’t be here trying to protect and care for her father. The only thing the man cared about was himself. The way he looked at all the men with this greedy look in his eye let her know shit was going down. It was things she didn’t want to know about.

Deanna stayed by the door, refusing to get involved in anything relating to her father.

He’s not your father. He’s a fucking monster.

Crossing her arms underneath her chest, she surveyed the room. The woman sleeping with her father was still passed out, which was starting to concern her. No woman should be able to sleep through all the crap going on around her. The man with the leather jacket marking him as president of the Soldiers of Wrath kept staring at her. His gaze scared her the most. He wouldn’t look away even as he spoke to her father. The show of disrespect wasn’t lost on her.

“You’re not getting any more shit. You can’t even pay like a real man.”

“But we’ve got a deal. You’ll take her, and I’ll be debt free?”

She tuned into what her father was saying, and frowned. Take who? The woman on the floor?

Something turned in the pit of her stomach. Whatever was going on wasn’t going to end well for her. Staring at all three men, she knew, part of her knew, they were here for her.

“I think it’s time I should go,” Deanna said, walking back into the room to pick up her purse. Stupidly she’d left it on the floor next to
his
chair. She walked into the room, leaning down to grab it.

“You can’t go,” her father said, raising his voice.

Grabbing her purse, she whirled around to glare at the man who wasn’t really her father. Donating sperm didn’t make any man a father. It only made him a man capable of fucking.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t answer your phone and now you’re raising your voice at me?” She was losing her temper, overreacting, and it was all because of the three men who were in the room watching them.

The men scared her. She did everything in her power to avoid being around men who looked like they’d laugh while killing someone.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

She turned toward the man she knew only as President. His dark hair was short, and his eyes were hard and cold, the color of molten silver. What had her father called him? Demon? Surely that wasn’t his real name. There was no way anyone would have the name Demon; it was wrong on so many levels.

“What? You can’t stop me from going anywhere,” she said, putting her purse over her shoulder and starting to make her way out of the room.

Deanna didn’t get far.

Demon reached out, snagging her hand. Before she knew what was happening she was sitting on his lap. She fought to be released but within quick moments, he had her hands trapped to her sides. He held her tightly, firmly, with no chance of escape.

“Get off me. Let me go!” She shouted, screamed, cursed, and wriggled. Boy, did she wriggle, but not once did he loosen his hold. Deanna felt the evidence of what her shifting on him was doing. The man beneath her was getting hard. His cock was pressed against her ass, showing her exactly how much he was enjoying it.

She stopped instantly.

Licking her lips, she stared across the room at the horrid walls. The whole place was in need of some tender loving care.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about his arms wrapped around you, trapping you.

“You’re a little wildcat, aren’t you? Is she a natural redhead?” Demon asked. His breath was across her neck.

“Don’t ask him, ask me,” Deanna said through gritted teeth. She hated how her body responded to being captured by him.

“Well, little red, are you all natural?” Demon’s lips brushed against her cheek. He was so large compared to her. His presence alone had her tensing, waiting for him to strike.

“Go fuck yourself,” she said.

Bad, Deanna, bad. This is a fucking biker, not some twerp in high school.

He didn’t respond how she expected. Demon burst out laughing.

“She’s got fire inside her,” Demon said.

“You’ll tame her.” One of the other men spoke up. She didn’t even bother to look to see who had spoken. This was a nightmare.