Page 27 of Grave Games

“Oh, really? You might want to check in with your tattoo, just to get your stories straight.”

“I did belong to the Chicago Gravediggers, but a bunch of us splintered off from Hades and his crew. We founded our own chapter, the Gravediggers, five years ago.”

I rolled my eyes. “Uh-huh, sure. Two factions of the same gang living in the same city, the same territory. I don’t know much about motorcycle gangs, but even I know that’s not allowed.”

“You’re right, it’s not, but when blood-related family is involved it gets complicated. And the term is clubs, not gangs.”

“Don’t you correct me. I said what I said.”

He made a sound of impatience. “We splintered off from Chicago Gravediggers because Hades and his crew are all about running everyone over, even members of their own club. There’s no loyalty unless it’s to Hades, and Hades alone, and Hades sure as fuck never returns that loyalty to anyone, except maybe his son Marvel. That doesn’t bode well for the health of anyone around him. Putting that club down once and for all is a goddamn public service, but I’m not going to waste my time talking about that asshole and a club that’s been sentenced to death. I want to know what Marvel did to you to humiliate you.”

“You want me to relive it so you can get more laughs out of it? Share it with the rest of your brothers back at the ol’ clubhouse so I can be humiliated all over again? Is that it?”

“No,I wanna know exactly what happened so I can kill everyone who hurt you.”

The promised violence in his voice almost made me believe him. Almost. “For all I know, you were even there.”

“Where?”

“The Chicago Gravedigger clubhouse.” My throat was so tight it nearly strangled the words before I could get them out. “The place where Marvel took me. The place where he held me for three days. The place where he… he took pride in deflowering a virgin. Me.”

A snarl escaped him, his face terrible. “Fuck.”

On that, we agreed. Wholeheartedly.

“Marvel was the guy you mentioned earlier? The biker who kidnapped you?”

I nodded, feeling sick. “I still can’t believe I was stupid enough to not question why he suddenly asked me out. I mean, I was just out of high school, and he was older. I was shy, boring, and I knew nothing about men. But I didn’t question his sudden interest, because I was so pitifully grateful for it. Can you imagine? Grateful.God.”

The silence was almost worse than his snarling.

“Tell me what they did to you.” The words sounded as though he’d forced them out one by one. “You said they had you for three days. Tell me.”

“I was nothing to Marvel. To any of them, except maybe a joke. A thing to be laughed at once Marvel got me into this horrible, wood-paneled room at the back of his father’s clubhouse, where there was only one way out. I’m sure you know the place I’m talking about.”

“Rumpus Room.” Again, the words seemed dragged out of him.

As far as I was concerned, that was as good as a confession. “Were you there to watch when Marvel raped me that first time? I mean, it got boring for everyone by the third day, but that first day there was a whole crowd to watch me scream for my life. Horny old bastards loved it when I screamed. Were you there?” Because if he was, I’d give serious thought to killing either him or myself here and now.

The baring of his teeth twisted his handsome face into something animalistic. “If I’d been there, I would’ve gotten you the hell out.”

If only I could believe that. “I still have nightmares of that room. Of those men watching me as I lay there helpless and violated. And… and Josh, being forced to watch, with tears rolling down his face.”

“Jesus fuck,” Romeo gritted, looking so enraged I almost hated looking at him. “Jesusfuck.”

“I wanted to die. God, how I wanted to die. They made me feel so damn dirty and used, I swore I’d never have sex again. And that’s a promise I kept until last night. Oh God,” I moaned as horror washed through me, and I dropped my face into my hands. “What the hell iswrongwith me? Why do I have the most God-awful taste in men? It’s like I’m cursed to attract only the worst scum on earth.”

“Don’t.” I heard movement before strong hands shackled my wrists to pull them from my face. He was there, mere inches away with that disgusting tattoo right there for me to see. I should have hated that—and Idid—but the physical synergy we created made my nerves thrum wherever he touched, even as his sea-colored eyes blazed into mine. “Don’t you compare me to Marvel, that goddamn shitbird. I amnothinglike that spoiled piece of scum, you hear me? I’m not going to try to control you through whatever kind of games he played with you, and I’m not some weak little bitch who’d ever hurt you just because Daddy told me to.”

It was shocking, how much I wanted to believe that. “You would. You’re a Chicago Gravedigger. That means your brothers are your family and everyone else, your victims.”

“No,” came the fierce response. “It’s just you and me here, Shy, you understand? No one’s here playing games with you. It’s just the two of us being together because it’s what we want. What weneed. No one else can touch us here. I won’t let them, I swear it.”

I opened my mouth to tell him that he was full of it, that I could never want a man who rode with the Chicago Gravediggers, and I certainly couldn’t trust him when he chose to meet me without wearing his cut. But before I could utter a single word, the unexpected slamming of the apartment’s front door sounded, followed by a voice I hadn’t heard in four years.

“Shiloh,” my brother Josh called out. “You here? We need to get you out of Chicago.”

*

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