Page 37 of Heron's Flame

He took advantage of my confusion and advanced swiftly, wrapping his large hand around my upper arm. My body collided with his chest as I narrowed my eyes.

“What did I tell you, Rebecca?”

Too many wicked threats to name.

“About running,” he snarled.

“That you will always find me.”

“That’s right. No matter how far, I’ll hunt you. It doesn’t matter who you fuck to get them to protect you. I won’t hesitate to kill that Samoan bastard.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“You care about him. Good. That means you’ll obey me.”

It didn’t mean shit, but I refused to reply, letting my silence answer. For the first time in my life, I believed I had someone in my corner. A man who loved me enough to fight against the sadistic son of a bitch who thought he could own me like a piece of property.

Heron would never let Paul take me away again. He’d kill him first. I didn’t have it in me to care. Paul deserved whatever fate awaited him once Heron learned what Paul had done to me.

“How do you know about him?” I didn’t say Heron’s name in case Paul hadn’t learned it yet.

“Heron? Or Manu?”

At my gasp, a dark chuckle tumbled from his mouth.

“Did you think I wasn’t watching? That I couldn’t find you?” His free hand speared through my hair and dug into my scalp, holding my head in place as he stared down at me. “You’ll learn your place, Rebecca. If we had more time, I’d make you apologize on your knees in front of my club.”

A few of his club brothers snickered.

“But that’ll happen soon enough. And who knows? When I’m done reminding you who you belong to, I might let a few of my officers have a turn, too.”

Anger flushed my cheeks as I filled my mouth with saliva, opened my lips, and spit on him. Satisfaction shot through my body like an addicting shot of cocaine as he snarled. His threats didn’t matter. Heron would find me.

I anticipated the hit before it came and managed not to flinch when Paul’s slap cracked across my jawline. Another followed, splitting my lip as I felt it rip open from the jagged metal of the ring he wore on his left hand. Its sharp edges glistened with my blood.

I didn’t allow myself to cry. Not even when he yanked my hair hard enough to remove it from the roots.

“Your ass is mine. I will fuck every hole as soon as we leave this fucking rally.”

Was I stupid to piss him off? Maybe. But years of abuse and trauma had finally clawed its way to the surface. I would never be a victim again. I’d rather die fighting him off than allow him to touch me one more fucking time.

He sensed my resolve, and the anger fizzled, replaced by dark lust. “I like this version of you, Rebecca. It’ll be even sweeter when I’m fucking you after you’ve fought me.”

A throat cleared. “Pres?”

Paul’s gaze turned to the man who’d spoken. “It’s time. The Devil’s Murder is ready to meet.”

“No reason to keep them waiting,” he responded with a laugh. His hold on my hair released, and I tried not to focus on the ache it left behind. Paul’s hand tightened around my upper arm as he dragged me toward the tents.

We hadn’t been far away. If not for the loud music and the wild crowd, I might have been able to cry out for Heron. Paul had managed to pull me out of view during this conversation, and I wondered if I would have screamed, would anyone have come to my aid?

Too late to act on it, and knowing I’d soon see all the people I cared about, I knew I’d have to be careful of what I said and how I acted. Paul would hurt me in front of Heron just to get a reaction out of him. Maybe he wanted to start a war between the clubs. I didn’t have a clue why it mattered if we met with the Devil’s Murder MC before he kidnapped me. Again.

The only conclusion that made sense was that he wanted to confront the man who touched his woman. Pride. It always seemed to be one of Paul’s issues.

As we entered the tent, I saw Crow and the club waiting. It took a few seconds for everyone to clue in and notice Paul, or Hammerhead and his fingers clenching around my upper arm. He squeezed as we stood, and I tried not to betray any emotion on my face because it fucking hurt. I’d have bruises later.

Heron immediately took a few steps in my direction. His gaze swept over my face, and he noticed my busted lip. Rage contorted his handsome features as he caught the way Paul held my arm and tugged me closer.

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