What Might Kill Us(10)

By: M.N. Forgy

“What’s going on, darlin’? Talk to me,” I state, wrapping an arm around her back. She’s drenched in sweat, the smell of honey wafting around us.

She tries to speak, but can’t catch her breath. She’s so scared, and small. My protective instinct kicks into high gear and my need to whisk this girl away and into my bed becomes my main priority.

I cup her face, her eyes setting on mine. “Breathe, you’re alright,” I whisper, she exhales a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving mine.

Her lips part as she places her hands on top of mine. The feel of them entwining between my fingers making me feel something I can’t fucking place.

She’s gorgeous and to have her climbing me like she is feels so fucking good I become lost in those glossy eyes. So unfocused that I don’t realize the truck has caught up to her.

The passenger side door opens and two men wearing green bandanas grab at her. My eyes widen with recognition at the emerald colors wrapping around their heads.

Her arms and legs flail everywhere as she screams in Spanish. I try to grab onto anything my fingers will latch onto, clutching her dress in my desperate attempt to save her. The fabric rips in between my fingers, and in the next moment she’s tucked in the back seat of the truck.

Two men point guns at me trying to keep me in place, but I don’t falter in my attempt to grab at the woman.

“Fucking drop it!” Shadow demands, coming up behind me gun raised and aimed.

The men seem unfazed as they slam the doors shut and drive off.

Just like that the truck takes off down the road, exhaust and the smell of perfume the only evidence this ever happened.

Stepping into the road I catch the plates.

“What the fuck was that?” Shadow asks, watching the truck race away.

“I don’t have the slightest clue, but I want you to find out,” I pant out of breath.

“Did you see the bandanas?” Shadow questions and all I can do is nod with a tight lipped smile.

A few years back our club was attacked, killing Babs and leaving me in anguish. Not to mention nearly one of my men. The gang that was behind it was wearing those green colored bandanas. It was their insignia. I thought the gang died off when their leader Augustus did, but it appears I was wrong.

Screaming as loud as my lungs will allow I kick and scratch anything that comes into contact, praying someone will hear me and call the authorities. I didn’t escape and get this far only to be brought back to Texas.

Two of Alvaro’s men tackle me, one digging their knee into my back and pressing me into the seat as they tie my hands behind my back painfully. My face bites into the unforgiving leather seat, causing my cheek to burn from its friction.

The other man attempts to place a green bandana in my mouth to muffle my cries and I roll my lips onto one another refusing to cooperate. He growls and digs two of his fingers into my jaw, the pressure so great I have no choice but to open my mouth on a loud cry as he shoves the cloth into my mouth with so much force my lips sting, before stuffing the bandana so far into my mouth I gag.

Alvaro turns in the front seat, looking at me with snake-like eyes. His dark hair slicked back and face calm.

“Hermana, you leaving me baby?” he asks with such coldness I want to cry. The term sister making me cringe.

My hair blows into my face from my harsh breathing blowing through my nostrils, but I don’t attempt to respond. I close my eyes, the biker that I ran into flashing behind my closed lids. I should have kept running.

Alvaro grabs my chin and jerks it upward, making me look him straight in the eye.

“You’re mine, Anahi. There is no escape for you,” he informs before nodding to one of the men. “You can’t run from me, because I will always find you.”

I pull from his grip, my nostrils flaring with rage.

I look over my shoulder as far as I can only to find one of his men, the one with the beard holding a long needle, the syringe filled with something to succumb me to their mercy.

“Just a little something to make the ride home easier,” Alvaro croons, and I begin to break out in a nervous sweat. He jerks my skirt up, and pries my panties down over the mound of my butt cheeks.

I struggle against my restraints, the tears I was trying so hard to fight now spilling freely from my eyes so hard I can barely see.

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