The bed dipped as he planted himself either side of me. A second later, he grabbed a handful of my hair and wrenched my head back, twisting it to the side so he could see my cheek. His heavy body covered mine, almost suffocating me, and he punched me hard in the face again. So hard I saw black.

I gasped for air as the pain consumed me.

I’m going to die.

I’m going to die at the hands of a filthy biker.

It was a good day to die.

As much as I’d gone there to kill him, I’d always known there was a good chance he’d kill me instead.

I was okay with that.

Because the truth was, I’d died nine months ago.

The day he’d taken the one person I cared about the most in the world was the day I gave up wanting to live.

And now he would take my life, too.

 

 

3

 

 

Nitro

 

 

“Hell’s Bells” by AC/DC

 

The smell of sex hit my nostrils.

And blood.

I smelt it, too.

Then a voice came screeching at me. “Huge fucking mistake!” And a fist flew at my face.

I presumed he referred to the fact I’d barged into his hotel room and interrupted the filthy shit going on. I hadn’t had a good chance to see what he was doing, but I’d taken in a blonde lying facedown across the bed. She didn’t look conscious so I figured he’d been fucking her without her knowledge.

Not something I ever fucking condoned.

He’d pay for that, too.

Adrenaline spiked through me as every muscle prepared for battle. I grabbed his fist, clamping my fingers tightly around his wrist. With great force, I pulled him towards me with one hand while I pointed my gun in the direction of his dick.

It was a beautiful and almost-too-easy meeting of karma and victory when I pulled the trigger and shot his dick to shit.

Truth be told, the blonde had helped me. She’d provided the distraction I needed to take him by surprise. I’d moved fast once I got through the door, because I’d expected him to react swiftly. He hadn’t, and so there we were—him on his knees clutching where his cock used to hang, and me staring down at him.

“Doesn’t look like a mistake to me,” I muttered. Crouching, I held the gun to his head. “What I’m trying to figure out now is whether to make this quick so I can get out of here, or whether to deliver a slow death that would give me the kind of satisfaction I’m craving right about now.”

His empty eyes stared at me. He made no move to fight me. Simply knelt there in his agony, drawing ragged breaths and grunting through the pain.

When he said nothing, I continued, “I think I’ll do it fast. But only because I’m more than ready to feed the news of your death to Dragon.” Silver Hell’s president.

His lips curled. “Kill me, motherfucker. Dragon’s got more men ready to take my place.”

“Not once we’re done with him tonight. When we refuse a truce, we don’t just sit back and wait for your next move.” Dragon would wish he’d never started this with us by morning.

My phone rang. I stood to answer the call and the asshole decided to give his life one last shot by punching my crotch.

“What?” I barked into the phone as I fired the gun, ignoring the pain radiating from my balls.

“You done?” King demanded. “We need you back here.”

I looked down at the lifeless body on the floor. “It’s done. I’m on my way now.”

He terminated the call without another word and I shoved the phone in my back pocket. Glancing at the blonde on the bed, I wavered between the decision to check her pulse or get the fuck out of there. In the end, it was the moan she expelled that drove me towards her.

Making my way to the side of the bed where her head hung, I swung her body so she lay the length of the bed with her head on the pillow. She was regaining consciousness, and as I moved her, she cried out in agony. The noise splintered through the room, shards of her torment fracturing the stillness around us.

He’d done a fucking number on her. Blood messed up her face and stuck in her long hair. It was the swelling, though, that gave me pause. She’d be black and blue from this beating.

As my gaze moved from her face down her body, I realised this was the blonde I’d had an altercation with earlier. Her face was unrecognisable, but the tattoos covering her neck clearly identified her. I’d recognise them anywhere. They painted her neck, flowed down to her breasts and extended out to her shoulders to meet the tattoos on both arms. They were the kind of tattoos I’d like to study. Whoever did them was clearly talented and believed in quality.

She swallowed and tried to move. The pain appeared excruciating, because her face contorted and she cried out again. She squinted at me through her swollen eyes. “Fuck,” she rasped. Her breathing picked up and she swallowed madly, probably trying to lubricate her dry throat.

When her body jerked on the bed, I figured she was attempting to leave, but there was no way she’d be walking out of there anytime soon.

“Where’s—” she started, but I cut her off.

“He’s dead.”

My phone rang again.

Renee.

I answered it. “I’m in the middle of something. Can this wait?”

The blonde cried out again as she sat up.

“Who’s that?” Renee asked.

I watched the blonde wiggle her way to the edge of the bed, wincing with each movement. “No one. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

“She sounds like she’s in pain.”

Renee had a fucking sixth sense. “She is.”

“You don’t sound like you care.”

“That’s because I don’t.”

Silence for a beat. “I hate that, Nitro. You should care. And you should help her.”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “I’m hanging up now, Renee.”

“Call me back.”

Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I eyed the blonde. Her tits spilled out of the dress that sat scrunched around her middle. She wore no panties either; her bare pussy was on full display. Blood had dried on her neck and chest. That was in addition to the blood on her face and in her hair.

I’d bet my last dollar she had broken ribs. I’d also bet he’d raped her. I’d noticed cum on her ass and on the back of her dress when I moved her body. She was a fucking mess and I doubted she’d be able to leave without assistance, which presented me with a dilemma. If I left her there, the hotel staff would find her with a dead body. No way was I leaving a witness at the scene of my crime.