“The Jacks will get you if they can, but their record with women isn’t too good. Three years ago Deke had a niece, Gracie, get in trouble with them. His old lady’s sister’s kid. No connection to the club, other than that. She decided to go to school down in California and turns out she wasn’t far from a Jacks charter. Started dating a guy who seemed nice enough, but he was one of their hangarounds. Apparently she mentioned her uncle was in the Reapers at some point. She went to a party with him and they raped her. All of them. One big f**king train, nearly killed her. They finished her off by carving ‘DJ’ on her forehead. Dumped her by the side of the road. Sent Deke a picture afterward taken with her own phone.”

I swallowed, feeling sick. Then I thought about the woman on the second floor, and wondered if she’d finished with those men yet. What if she wanted to stop halfway through? Would they let her?

“What about downstairs?” I asked, mouth getting away from my brain. “What makes that any different?”

Horse cocked his head.

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s a woman downstairs, I saw her in a room with a bunch of guys on the second floor. They were taking turns…”

“Fuck…” Horse muttered, dropping onto his back and running his hands through his hair. “What else is gonna fall to shit tonight? I’m sorry you saw that, babe. I didn’t think about that at all. Shit.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Are they going to hurt her?”

“No!” he said, sitting up and looking down at me. “Shit, no, I can’t believe you have to ask that. We’re not a bunch of ra**sts, Marie. Shit. If she’s in there, she chose to be there. Fuck if I know why, but women do it all the time. It’s a thing with some of the sweet butts, like counting coup or something. I can’t exactly defend it as upstanding behavior, but that’s nothing like what they did to Gracie. They tore her up so bad, I can’t even explain it. She’ll never have kids. She tried to kill herself twice before they got her into some kind of psychiatric facility. Damn.”

He looked so genuinely upset that I believed him.

“How often does it happen?” I asked softly. “What else goes on at your parties?”

“All kinds of shit happens at parties,” Horse said, sighing heavily. “But that’s really none of your business. It’s wilder tonight because there’s blood in the air, that’s all. Nobody’s getting hurt and nobody’s here against their will. That’s all you need to know.”

“Have you done it?”

He shook his head, although whether he was denying it or just making it clear I couldn’t expect an answer, I couldn’t tell.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Dig up everything either of us has ever done? I thought we were over that. I’m not a saint, babe, and I’ve never pretended to be. But I promised you that I wouldn’t cheat on you and I haven’t. I won’t. I trust that you won’t either. Isn’t that good enough?”

I nodded, wondering if killing children fell under the category of “not being a saint”.

“You need to write back to Jeff,” he said abruptly. “The faster we work through this the better.”

I nodded and grabbed my phone. It took about three minutes to type out the message, which he read over before hitting send. It was simple enough—I asked Jeff to call me and told him I was safe with the Reapers but that the Jacks were dangerous. I was afraid of them.

I set the phone down on the little bedside table. Horse reached over, pulling me to him, kissing me as his fingers reached between my legs. I resisted at first, turning my head away, tensing. He just rubbed up and down, slowly and steadily, as he leaned over and started on my br**sts. He licked at them, sucking my ni**les in and then flicking his tongue until I twisted against him, wanting more even though I despised myself for it.

Jeff claimed the man was a murderer. Yet when Horse hooked two of his fingers deep inside me I crumbled, spreading my legs and mewling for more, pumping my hips against his fingers. He slid farther down the bed, taking my knees and pushing them up and over his shoulders as his mouth covered my clit. Horse had the tongue of a devil, sliding around my little nub, alternating between teasing it and fluttering, then moving to suck just strong enough to almost hurt me but not quite. The entire time he worked me over inside until I twisted and moaned against him, hovering on the edge of climax.

That’s when he stuck his finger in my ass.

He’d been doing this more and more and while I found it startling, I also enjoyed it. In fact, he’d been sticking in two and even three fingers, stretching me and shaping me, usually while he played my clit. Other times he’d put me on my hands and knees, thrusting into me from behind with his c**k in my pu**y and his fingers in my ass. I knew he wanted anal sex. Sometimes he rubbed the head of his c**k against my opening, pressing lightly. He’d always been incredibly careful, but I hadn’t let him stick it in me. To be honest, our sex life was so great I didn’t think it needed much in the way of improvement, and his size scared me a little.

But there was something different that night. Looking back, I wonder if he sensed just how wrong things were, despite my attempts to reassure him. He worked me over hard with his tongue, making me come three times, leaving me limp and quivering, every muscle in my body loose and pliant. I wasn’t thinking about Jeff or the party or anything other than the sense of completion and sensual satisfaction he gave me. That’s when Horse rolled me onto my stomach, then lifted my hips and pushed a pillow under them. I stayed limp as his hands spread my cheeks, and he pressed lightly against my opening with his finger. It slipped in easily.

“I want this,” he said softly, leaning over and kissing me between the shoulder blades. “I need to own you. All of you. Make you scream and realize that you belong to me and I belong to you and nothing else matters. I can’t let you slip away from me, babe.”

A second finger joined the first and I wiggled my hips a little, feeling the stretch and the pressure. He guided his penis into my vagina, sliding in and out, the position perfect for reaching the spongy spot on my inner front wall. His fingers mirrored his penis, rubbing me and stretching me from behind. Then he pulled his fingers out and something cool and wet dripped into my opening. His fingers rubbed the lube in deep, warming it, and then he pulled his c**k free from my body. He fumbled for a minute and I heard the tear of a condom wrapper.

I stiffened as he placed the head against my rear. I was afraid it would hurt, but he shushed me softly and rubbed the small of my back until I relaxed again. Then he started pushing in very, very slowly. It stretched and pinched, but not nearly as much as I’d imagined it would. It was more pressure than anything else, a strange kind of fullness I’d caught hints of from his fingers. Every few seconds he’d stop, giving me time to grow used to the feeling of him deep inside me. Then he’d push a little more.

He had to be about halfway in when his hand reached down under the pillow to find my clit. After all he’d done to me, I was incredibly sensitive and he seemed to know that, because he used a light touch to rub it in circles, pushing deeper into my ass until I felt the muscles of his stomach against my bottom. I flexed, trying to accustom myself to this new intruder, and he groaned sharply. I felt him jerk inside me, and I squeezed again.

“Holy shit,” Horse muttered, starting to rub my clit more quickly. “You’re gonna kill me, babe.”

I sighed and then moaned as he started pulling out, which caused a whole new flood of feeling. That started the slow glide of his c**k in and out of my ass. It hurt at first, but it didn’t hurt badly and that little bit of pain was all mixed up with the incredible sensations building in my lower body. He was rock-hard inside me and every time I squeezed him he took his revenge by dragging his rough finger across the swollen tip of my clit.

The torture was mutual.

After an eternity of easing the way, he started moving more quickly in me. Not fast, mind you. He still took care, but this was definitely pumping action, not a slow glide. I found myself twisting under him, seeking my own relief as his fingers played me expertly. My need wound tighter and tighter and I thrust my butt back at him, ready and waiting to go over the edge a final time. Sensing this, he pressed my clit down hard as he seated himself deep within. That tipped me over the edge and shivers swept through me, along with sweet, shuddering relief. He groaned hard and leaned down, biting my shoulder as his c**k surged deep inside, held captive by my clenching ass. That’s when he blew, gasping and panting against my back.

He lay on top of me for several minutes, c**k slowly shrinking down, which was a very strange feeling. Then he pulled out and went into the bathroom. I heard the sink running and the toilet flush before he came out and climbed back into the bed. He pulled me into his arms and I lay against him like a limp doll, spent and sore and completely satisfied.

“That was incredible, Marie,” he whispered, kissing me deeply. I hardly had the energy to kiss him back and he pulled away, chuckling softly. “Sleep, babe.”

I tucked into him, body exhausted, thought processes long shut down. Sleep was instant and dreamless.

A phone rang in the early morning darkness. I grunted, pushing at Horse. It kept ringing and finally he moved, reaching over and grabbing it. I whimpered because he’d pulled the covers off me, letting in tendrils of hateful cold.

“Yeah?” he answered, voice rough and gravelly. He listened for a moment, and then I felt the air in the room change.

“Are you sure?” he asked, alert now, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. “No, I hear you. Is someone with Cookie?”

That didn’t sound good. It really didn’t sound good. I sat up in bed, pulling the covers across my br**sts. Horse ignored me, utterly focused on the phone call. I felt a twinge in my ass but I ignored it. Last night felt like some surreal dream—a dream I wasn’t ready to remember just yet.

“Thanks,” Horse said finally. He dropped the phone down, then rolled away from me and stood up, reaching for his pants. Tension roiled off him, along with waves of anger so powerful it scared me.

Last night’s lover had left the building.

“What happened?” I asked, keeping my voice low and calm. He didn’t look at me as he spoke.

“Bagger’s dead,” he said, reaching down for his long-sleeved thermal shirt. Then he grabbed his cut. “Died two days ago, took them awhile to locate his body for confirmation. Cookie’s at the hospital, she collapsed when they told her last night. I’ve got to go. You can call the other girls but don’t leave the armory. We’re still on watch against the Jacks. You got it?”

He glanced at me, waiting for me to acknowledge his orders. I nodded and he left without another word.

Chapter Nineteen

I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.

I didn’t even know Bagger, aside from saying hi to him on Skype a couple of times. I didn’t have a right to mourn him, not like everyone else. But I mourned for Cookie and Silvie, his little girl who cried for her daddy at night and begged to perform for him in front of their webcam with her little stuffed dog. I wanted to do something to help, even if it was something stupid like cleaning her house or cooking. Instead I sat alone in my room and watched a stunning sunrise while everyone I’d come to know and love in Coeur d’Alene suffered.

Around nine Horse called me and told me I should go downstairs, find some food. He warned me that the place was a mess and told me that if any of the women gave me shit I could to throw their asses out. Um, right. I needed to stay in the building, other than that I’d be okay. I walked down the stairs cautiously, expecting to see wreckage and evidence of some kind of giant orgy. Instead I found subdued men drinking coffee and a bunch of tired, hungover-looking women. A few of them huddled in a corner, crying. One of them was Serena, the woman I’d seen last night sitting next to Horse. She approached me cautiously, like she expected me to go crazy on her. I didn’t have the energy and it just didn’t seem very important anymore.

“You hungry?” she asked, taking my shoulders and looking at me, clearly checking me over for I don’t know what…injury from Horse’s giant penis? She would know, I thought, feeling morose.

“Not really, but I should probably eat,” I answered.

“I know what you mean. C’mon, we got donuts over here.” She led me over to a table on the far side of the room, littered with donuts and a couple boxes of coffee to-go from Starbucks.

“Starbucks? Seriously?” I asked. She shook her head and grimaced.

“I knew the boys would need something,” she said, shrugging. “It’s what was easy. Eat something, hon. It’s gonna be a long day.”

“Do you know Cookie?” I asked. I’d tried to call Em a while ago, but she hadn’t answered and I didn’t want to bother anyone. The last thing they needed was to be worrying about me. But I really wanted to know how she was holding up. I couldn’t begin to imagine what she was going through. Serena shrugged.

“Yeah, although not well,” she said. “I’m not really the girl they parade in public, you know?”

“Does that bother you?” I asked. Then I bit my tongue, realizing how insensitive that was. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. Please forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, giving me a small, weak smile. “I don’t want to be one of their old ladies, and despite what you might think, I’ve had more than one opportunity. I like my freedom. I’ve got my place and it’s worked for me. I’m moving on to something new now anyway. But this… This throws me. They always seem so strong, you don’t think of anything being able to kill them, you know?”