Stain (King's Harlots MC Book 2) (31 page)

SEARING HOT
agony coursed through my blood, setting my skin on fire. My stomach twisted and churned, rolling over itself until acidic bile rose to my throat. I tried opening my eyes, but all I could see was black. The darkness that had threatened to destroy me over the years finally took over. I couldn’t control it, and this time I let it win.

The scent of death surrounded me, but I didn’t know where I was. I could only assume that Charles had taken us back to his place. I wasn’t even sure if it was actually his house. Who the fuck knew anymore? Everything had happened so quickly. I couldn’t even remember the final outcome of meeting with Tyler only a few weeks ago. All I knew was that he won. I left filled with rage, and all he could do was laugh. He was a sick fuck, and it still surprised me to this day that Jay had been with him.

Struggling to move, a chain clinked against the cool concrete I was lying on. I had been bound but not gagged, thank fuck. With my good arm, I tried to push myself up to a sitting position. My body felt like it weighed a ton. I couldn’t move.

Replaying what had happened in my mind, a growl escaped me.

Meeka
.

My Hummingbird.

I tried so hard not to think about what Charles was doing to her. He had a thing for her. I could see it in his eyes. It was the same look I had whenever she came into the room. She didn’t know how beautiful she was. Her innocence made her so fucking pure, Charles wanted a taste.

“Fuck,” I ground out. If he touched her … If he harmed one hair on her fucking body, I would end him. I would make it so all the shit he did to those women looked like a fucking Disney movie compared to what I would do to him. And I would make him watch while I ripped off every inch of him that touched her. As each thought crossed my mind, the rage inside of me became stronger and darker. It bordered on violent, and I embraced it.

Reaching my good arm out, I searched for anything that could help me get the chain off my ankle. The thought crossed my mind that if I had a saw, I would cut off my foot to get to Meeka. A cold maniacal laugh escaped me. It was from sheer terror and desperation. The thought of never seeing her again took my breath away but it also drove me to find an escape. From reality. From fucking life in general. Shit with Charles needed to end. If I had to go through Tyler first, I would. With everything in me, I knew he was in on it. He wasn’t undercover. He was leading two fucking lives and his craving for younger girls took over.

Crawling as far as I could, I tested to see how long the chain was. I got three feet before it became taught and I couldn’t move anymore. “Shit.” I reached my arm out, waving it in front of me to feel for walls. My hand landed against a brick wall, a sharp pain biting into my knuckles. That pain drove me mad. “Let me the fuck out!”

Suddenly, a light turned on, blinding me. I squinted, rubbing my eyes until they were able to focus on the room I was trapped in. It was your typical room that came right out of a horror movie. Blood-stained walls. Dirt and debris lined the tile floor. Without a doubt, the room had been designed to scare. To set that fear in someone until they did everything to break free. But these guys didn’t know me. They didn’t know what I had done as a child to survive. So many times, I had begged my step-father to just let me go. I ran away once before he found me. I was his little bitch who kept his place clean for fear the women would run screaming to the police.

My hand clenched into a fist as thoughts traveled back to the time I first tasted the darkness. Screams. Loud and powerful screams tore at my mind until all I could focus on was ending her suffering. I didn’t know who she was. I had no idea where she came from. She had fallen victim to my step-father’s sadistic wrath and he left her in my fragile grip. He knew I would kill her. He had set it up that way. She begged me, pleaded for me to let her go. But I couldn’t. I was just a boy. My step-father had taught me to fight and defend myself. It was the only time he hadn’t beat me.

I sighed, leaning my head against the wall and took a couple deep cleansing breaths. Regaining that control, I rose to my feet on shaky legs. My whole fucking body hurt. Everything. Even the hair on my head. I checked my damaged arm, grimacing when I noticed it hung at an odd angle. Yup. Definitely broken. “Motherfucker.” I would kill him, and I couldn’t wait to watch the life leave his eyes, fading before me like the piece of shit he was.

Scanning the room, I looked for anything out of the ordinary. There was a door across from me, but with the short chain I was on, I wouldn’t be able to reach it. Even though I was tall, whoever locked me in there made sure they put me as far away from my escape as possible.

Everything about the room reminded me of the basement I had been forced to clean for years. Four brick walls. Concrete floor. And a door. No windows. No furniture. It was cool and damp in the air, but that was it. The door didn’t even have a window in it. I was trapped. With no fucking escape at all in my near future. But I wasn’t trapped. Not in the physical sense. My step-father was a bastard and knew just how to get me to break. I went to school. Hanging on by a thread. But my mental well-being was chipped apart day by day as time wore on. Every smattering of blood I cleaned, broke a piece off of my strength.

Calming my racing heart, I took another deep breath and listened. Reining in all of the training I had been given over the years, I listened for anything that could give me some sort of answer. But nothing. No fucking sounds pierced my ears. The brick silenced any noise coming from the outside. I could be in the middle of butt fuck Idaho for all I knew, and Meeka could have been in another country by then. I didn’t know how long I had been knocked out for. I didn’t know a damn thing. It was enough to drive a sane man mad.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice rough like I had just gargled with broken glass. “Let me the fuck out!”

A minute later, a lock clicked and the door opened slowly, revealing Charles. He stared after me, a small grin spreading on his ugly mug.

“Where the
fuck
is Meeka?” Leaning my good arm on the wall for support, I took a shallow breath.

“She’s safe.” He winked. “For now.”

I rolled my eyes at the clichéd line. “What do you want?”

Charles walked further into the room, followed by the two large bastards who were at the crash site. They were always with him. They only spoke when spoken to or when Charles wasn’t around.

My gut churned, my heart picking up speed.

“I want to know why you have been ignoring my calls,” Charles said, his voice flat and even. “We had a deal. I changed the fucking rules for you. You brought in your own girl when that’s not how it works. I should have listened to Tyler.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“What the fuck does this have to do with Tyler?” I demanded, the drive to kill clouding my vision.

“Everything.” Charles took a step toward me. “Tyler runs this part of the operation. Didn’t you know that?”

“I had my suspicions,” I mumbled.

“Tyler is the driving force. He’s kept all of our worlds connected.” Charles rolled his eyes.

“You sound like you’re not happy with that.”

“Why would I be? I’ve been in this job for years. Tyler comes waltzing in only a couple months ago, and already he’s moved to the fucking top,” Charles seethed, his nostrils flaring.

Ah. Someone was jealous. I could use his anger to my advantage if I played my cards right. Much like Meeka, Charles was trying to get recognition from his boss.

Charles started pacing back and forth, rubbing his chin. “I need to know how I can make him see that
I
got this. That
I
deserve the power.”

“If Tyler is already at the top, your boss won’t care what you do.”

Charles spun on me. “Yes, he will. I’ll just have to send him a care package. Maybe a body part or two.”

“How the hell would that help?”

“I could send him your girl. A finger. A toe. How about her fucking tit?”

“You leave her the fuck alone!” I charged for him, stopping two feet away from him when the chain on my ankle held me back.

“And what are you going to do about it, huh?” Charles snapped. “You’re stuck in here, Asher. Everything is happening because of you. If you would have just answered my fucking calls. Or better yet. You should have chosen one of my girls. But no, you brought Meeka into hell. What kind of boyfriend are you? You say you love her but your selfish fucking ass forced her into a world that eats up women like her. How does that make you feel?”

My heart jumped in my chest. He was right, and I couldn’t deny it. No matter how hard I tried, everything he said was true. I
was
selfish. I made Meeka feel guilty so she had no fucking choice but to join me. What kind of man was I? A pussy. I was a fucking pussy. My step-father had been right. I didn’t deserve anyone. And I especially didn’t deserve Meeka.

“I love you.”

Meeka’s confession of her love for me changed things. Yes, I felt fucking guilty for what I brought her into, but I would live out my days making it up to her. I didn’t deserve her, and I would never get over that, but I would love her with all of me. Nothing and no one would change that. It was the only thing I didn’t control. It was all on Meeka. She loved me. She pulled feelings from me and enveloped them with her beauty.

Her face filled my mind.

“I see you don’t deny anything I’ve said.” Charles smirked. “It takes a real man to admit when he’s wrong.”

“Fuck you,” I bit out through gritted teeth. “You don’t know shit. You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“Of course—” he threw his hands up in the air. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? I will have fun telling Meeka that.” He snapped his fingers.

A knowing glance passed between the other two men before sauntering my way.

Charles walked to the door. “Have fun. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He laughed, shutting me in with his goons.

I had a chained leg and a broken arm.

As I stared into the eyes of the men who closed the distance between us, I realized something.

I was fucked.

***

(Meeka)

A pounding headache pierced between my eyes. I had been awake for an hour, Charles had told me. He brought me to his bedroom which creeped me the hell out. It messed with my head when he was gentle. Even though I knew he was sick in the head, my heart told my brain to feel sorry for him. I couldn’t understand why. After all of the shit he had done to these women, it didn’t make sense for me to feel this way. My stomach rolled at the mere thought of him being nice. I would much rather if he yelled and screamed at me. At least then I would know where he stood.

When he brought me into his room, he refused to let his security touch me. Charles placed me on his bed and brushed a hand down my cheek. The skin still tingled from where he had touched me. I needed Asher. I needed him to wipe away every inch Charles caressed. Even though he had never crossed the line, he might as well have raped my mind. He forced his way into my thoughts much to my dismay.

Slowly pushing myself up on shaky arms, I rubbed some life back into my cheeks. A sense of relief washed over me that I was still dressed. And alone.

I tried so hard not to glance around the room. It was too personal. Too intimate. I didn’t want to know Charles. I didn’t want to know anything about the man. He was a sadistic bastard, and he deserved to rot in hell. I wasn’t stupid, though. He brought me into his bedroom, so it messed with my head. If I could just know him a little bit, I would feel sorry for him. Well, it wouldn’t work. I channeled the hatred I had for him. For what he did to the previous women. The little girls who were no more than teenagers. Some right out of puberty. He could have done something to Violet as well, but she never said. Angel and Jay had asked her if she knew the name, but she refused to talk about the missing years of her life. Even though she remembered them, she said she was lost and that those years didn’t count. A part of her had died along with the other women.

As much as I didn’t want to, I searched around the room for anything that could help me get out of there. The door was locked. I knew it would be, but there was still that glimmer of hope. Charles knew better. Jay had told us that Eric Vega let her leave the room. It fucked her up pretty bad so I was almost thankful that I couldn’t leave. To be given that choice to either save yourself or someone else—it was not a decision I wanted to make. Unless it came down to Asher and myself. As much as he would be furious with me, I would lay my life on the line for him, and I knew he would do the same for me.

A large cabinet stood in front of me. I didn’t understand why, but something about it set my nerves on edge. Maybe it would lead to my escape. Opening the doors, I gasped at the sight before me.

Whips. Chains. Floggers.
Knives
.

It was the cabinet of torture. I was all for kink but this held no hint of pleasure at all. Items I had never seen before rested on a red velvet mat at the base of the main shelf. Needles. I swallowed hard. Masks. Dildos bigger around than my fist.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the top drawer, my stomach dropping to my feet.

More knives stared up at me. All different sizes. I slammed the drawer shut and closed the cabinet doors, a cold sweat racing down my back like fingers of fear.

I didn’t want to think about what Charles did with those tools or who he tortured. Looking around the room, I couldn’t imagine that he did any of that here. It was clean. Too pristine to have the walls marked with the blood of his victims. Would I be one of those victims? Would he make me submit and break me until there was nothing left?

Heading to the window, I separated the curtains. The dim moon light cast an eerie glow on the field behind the house. A forest area spread a few hundred yards in front of me. It was all I could see. No people. No animals. Just trees. I didn’t know how big the property was. Was Asher even there with me? Could I have been taken somewhere else?