Page 3 of Taken By Her Two Savage Bikers
“No need to explain to me – unless you want to.”
I didn’t have a chance to reply as the operator came on the line. Seeing I was occupied, the bartender went off to take care of his other patrons. I took a sip of the drink as I gave the operator my information. Less than ten minutes later I was off the phone with the promise that the tow truck would be to me in an hour, two at the maximum. That gave me a small amount of time before I had to make the walk back to the vehicle. I’d asked if they could pick me up at the diner but apparently, they didn’t do that, against policy or some shit.
“How much?” I asked stuffing the card back into my wallet and passing the phone back to him when he returned to me.
“Considering you’ve had a rough day, let’s say it’s on the house.”
He had a nice, friendly smile. Not one of those smiles I was used to getting from men who wanted me for a one-night good time, but there was a sincerity that made me feel reassured. This was a minor setback, I told myself. Everyone had minor setbacks.
“Thank you.” Drinking the vodka cocktail down in several gulps, I passed the glass back to the bartender. “I appreciate your kindness.”
“Anytime. I’ll look forward to your next visit.”
Laughing, I slipped the purse back onto my shoulder. “Not likely, but thanks anyhow.” This time it was my turn to wink at him before spinning on my heel and strutting across the bar toward the exit, making sure my ass gave a nice wiggle with each step for his benefit. The least I could do really. Opening the door, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and looked back toward the bar. He was watching me. Our gazes locked, and just like that the dark-haired bartender was out of my life like so many other brief encounters before him.
The sun had completely disappeared, the night taking over. The temperate had dipped a noticeable amount in just the short time I was in the bar. A chill shot up my spine as I began the walk. Crossing my arms over my chest, I rubbed my shoulders with the opposite hands, trying to get some warmth generated. Cars periodically whizzed by me, but no one stopped. It was just as well; it wasn’t like I would have gotten in with a stranger anyhow.
Headlights appeared behind me, illuminating the road ahead of me. But the car didn’t rush past like the others did.
Shit. I hoped it wasn’t another hillbilly with a hard-on.
“Need a lift?” I heard a deep masculine voice asking.
“Nah, I’m good.” I shot back over my shoulder, not looking back at the vehicle, but quickening my pace. A pricking shimmied down the back of my neck and spine, making the fine hairs stand at attention, but I ignored it, passing the feeling off as simple paranoia.
The vehicle came to a stop and I heard doors opening. This time I did look back. The vehicle was a large crew-cab, black Dodge Ram with tinted windows. The men who had hopped out were both tall, broad, dominating types – both were dark haired and their eyes fixed on me as if I were prey. There was no friendliness in their expressions.
One had a few days’ worth of scruff while the other had a finely trimmed beard. Both were wearing black leather vests over dark t-shirts. What did they call those vests that motorcycle clubs wore with all the patches? I didn’t know, but that’s what they were wearing.
As they closed the distance their expression turned predatory, shaking me to the very core. Only fifteen feet away now. They were huge men, muscles bulging against the sleeves of their t-shirts.
“What do you want?” I could hear the trembling in my voice despite standing my ground. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew I wouldn’t be able to outrun them.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. You and your old man owe the club,” the one with the beard replied, his voice deep and gravelly. “This is long past due, lady.”
Owe the club? What in the hell was he talking about?
Despite the knowledge that I wouldn’t be able to escape them, instinct told me that I had to try. Sure as hell couldn’t overpower them. Spinning back around, I began to run, willing my legs to take me as quickly as I could down the road and to the potential safely of my car. We were on a desert highway road, there was no wooded area to hide in and they were blocking my path back to the bar. The car was the only option I had, though considering the car wouldn’t start, even that wouldn’t save me for long.
I didn’t make it twenty feet before I was tackled to the ground, with what felt like the force of a freight train hitting me from behind. I screamed as I toppled forward, hitting the ground hard and winding me, my purse flying onto the dirt at the side of the road. Putting my hands out before me, I found my palms dug hard into the dirt, the sharp rocks digging into them, piercing the flesh.
A second scream escaped me as my head fell forward, my forehead bashing against the ground, sending a surge of pain radiating through my skull. Groaning, I tried to squirm my way out from a body that was easily twice the size of mine, to no avail.
“Nope. Don’t know where you think you’re going,” the man covering me growled, as he removed his weight from my back. I was grateful for this at least. Coughing and gasping for breath, I attempted to get to my feet, but the sense of freedom was short lived as he wrapped a strong, muscular arm around my waist and pulled me up and off my feet. “But I got news for ya. Only place you’re going is with us to see the boss.”
I had no clue who the boss was, but I had a feeling that seeing the boss wasn’t something I wanted to do. I squirmed and fought against him, screaming like a banshee, my fingernails digging into the bare arm, leaving deep crescent marks in his skin, but not piercing it. I gripped tighter to his arm, attempting to double over to bite him instead, but it was fruitless. He seemed to be able to sense what I was going to do before I did it.
Within seconds the two men had my hands tied behind my back and a thick, cotton pillowcase slipped over my head, plunging me into darkness. My still-squirming body was thrown into the cab of the truck and I heard the door being slammed shut behind me. Squirming onto my back, I attempted to kick at the door, but to no avail. The only thing I was accomplishing was exhausting myself. Considering I had no idea what was in store for me, wasting energy wasn’t a smart idea.
“What in the fuck?” I murmured. I was trapped and unable to even see where we were going.
“Don’t bother trying to escape, there is no way out. This isn’t our first rodeo, baby,” one of my kidnappers said, his voice coming from the driver’s side of the truck.
Plunking my ass back down onto the leather seat, I attempted to shake the case from my head to realize they must have secured it at the neck to prevent it falling free. “What in the hell is going on? Is this something you do often? Why are you doing this?”
My questions were left unanswered as the truck was shifted into gear and did a U-turn on the highway, heading back to wherever it came from.
