Page 69 of The Savage Outlaw

“I’ll kill her if you want me to, doll,” he whispered.

Eden’s teeth chattered. Priest was evil. Crude. Mean. A terror. A criminal. An outlaw of the worst kind. Eden begged herself to find some sense of reality. Then it occurred to her, maybe this was her sense of reality. A hellish nightmare with a biker who had the most amazing cock she’d ever encountered in her life.

She knew it was dumb, dangerous, and…insert any other logical wording…

Eden couldn’t get enough.

Eden—with the help of whiskey and a post-orgasmic high—decided right then and there she wanted to wear Priest’s ink.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Pressure Point

He thumbs the tab on the dark green folder and stares ahead at the very expensive black car in front of his very expensive black car. He knows who is in the car in front of him. He’s amazed at how deep the ties of the motorcycle club run.

These guys are not just regular bikers. They aren’t the kind of guys that work normal jobs and then get together to have some beers or shots of whiskey, get drunk and get rowdy. They don’t just play pool and pick fights. They don’t just hire strippers for birthday parties for members and stay on the right side of the law.

This motorcycle club openly lives on the other side of the law and doesn’t give a shit who knows.

What amazes him the most? Nobody has stopped them yet. In some way, this town needs the motorcycle club to survive.

He thumbs at the folder again. He leans forward a little.

“At this next turn, they’re going to go right at the last second. When they jam on their brakes and turn, I want you to beep the horn and then go straight.”

“No more following, sir?”

“I have all I need for now,” he says.

He leans back against the back seat and puts the divider window up. Slowly, his eyes shut and he moves himself into an almost meditative state. Sometimes when too many thoughts hit at once, he needs to do this.

It always struck him as amazing, the way empires took forever to build yet had a funny way of collapsing very easily. Almost like building a house of cards, literally. All that time it takes to carefully place each card. Knowing not to disrupt one of the previous cards. And then one movement on one of the cards and they all come tumbling down.

He exhales a slow breath. The car gently jerks. The horn beeps. Then it speeds up. He smiles.

He has been tailing the Russian mafia member for a good three miles now. Purposely staying very close to the back of the car. Wanting to see what would happen.

Just to make his presence felt. For the hell of it. But now that was in the past.

He looks down at the folder once again. The name tag on it. Eden Sawyers. Mostly out of curiosity, that’s why he has the folder. Just to understand more of this woman who has been nothing but an exemplary nurse who is now sharing a bed every night with one of the motorcycle club members.

Maybe it was just hot sex. Maybe it was love. He really didn’t care about that. Everyone in the world has needs. Wants. Desires.

Although some interesting things have been happening with her being around. A dead body here and there. The sudden appearance of several motorcycle club members to her apartment. She and Priest hurrying out of her apartment, hiding in a secluded cabin that she rented for the evening.

Then there was the surprise attack on her. Two men in a truck trying to kill her. That was something he did not seeingcoming, nor did it exactly make much sense. At least not until he poked around a little. He knows why that attack happened.

“Things are getting very interesting,” he says out loud. “Very interesting.”

He leans forward and folds the folder and gently swats it against the nose of the woman he has tied up on the floor of the car. She’s fully naked and her bright blue eyes are soaked with tears. Bloodshot from fear.

He used the woman’s panties to gag her mouth with. He used her bra to tie her hands behind her back. As for her feet, he used old fashioned rope. He’s not sure what he wants to do with this one just yet.

The naive thing had been working her second shift as an exotic dancer (different location than his previous conquest) and she looked too delicious to pass up.

“All it takes is a thousand dollars,” he says to the woman. “Ten crisp one hundred dollar bills and look where you ended up. Don’t worry, the money will not go back into my pocket. I’ve already made an anonymous donation to a wonderful organization that helps women in need. Special. And ironic.”

The naked woman, perfectly tied up, starts to thrash and tries to scream. After a few seconds, he can’t take the annoyance anymore. He reaches down and uses just his thumb, pressing it at the perfect spot on the woman’s neck, causing her intense pain. He holds his finger there longer than necessary, but a message must be sent.

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