Page 68 of Biker's Babygirl

“Get the phone number Ginny called from. We’ll need it.” And without waiting for an answer, I leave the room, calling for Ellie and Shep. I already have my cell phone pressed against my ear before they even come out of their rooms. “Put me through to Officer Carmichael,” I order without preamble. “It’s urgent.”

Ginny

“Get us out of here,” Lucas barks at Pukey who’s driving the getaway car.

I sink into the backseat, barely able to process what’s happening over the ocean of defeat I’m swimming in. I can still feel Lucas’s hands on my throat. They’re not there—I know, because I haven’t stopped watching them since Bull—the nickname I gave to Lackey Two—yanked Lucas off me.

I’d just been at the point of blacking out when he did. The edges of my vision had gone dark, when a sudden rush of air to my lungs made me feel dizzy. I’d sunk to my knees, coughing, while Lucas and Bull argued in the background.

“You’re gonna kill her. If that was all you were after, why’d you make us bring her here?”

“I don’t want her dead!” Lucas had roared at him. “I want her to learn a lesson!”

I don’t know what else might have been said or what else he might have done, because one their phones had gone off. It had been a short, terse conversation from what I could gather between fits of gasping for oxygen, and then I had been hauled to my feet.

It was Bull who’d shoved me into the bedroom and ordered me to start packing. Of course, I didn’t have much in the way of worldly possessions. I still had no idea what they’d done to my clothes—I hadn’t spotted the duffle bag I’d taken from Duke’s house anywhere. I’d gone empty-handed to the nondescript black car.

“I was just starting to trust you,” Lucas snarls, claiming my attention once more. “I guess it’s true what they say—if you want to keep a bitch, better put her on a tight leash.”

“Maybe try picking someone who wantsyou, although I can see how that would be a challenge, considering.” The words pop out before I can think better of them.

He stares at me in stunned silence for a moment, allowing us to both fully weigh my words. Then he raises his hand, and though I flinch, when it lands on my cheek it’s feather soft.

“You loved me once, Ginny. You can’t deny it.”

His words hurt more than the smack I was expecting.

“You will again. But until you do, I have no trouble keeping you close, and giving you daily reminders of what it means to be with me.” His gaze is possessive and gleaming. “In fact, I think I’ll start right now.”

I’m not quite sure what he means until I see his hands go to his belt. My throat tightens but he simply undoes the buckle. It isn’t until he’s unzipped his pants and his cock springs free that I understand what’s happening.

“No.” The word nearly sticks in my throat and comes out far softer than I intended. “No.” The word is torn from me, a guttural plea I have no reason to believe he’ll heed.

“Oh, yes.” The words are soft as a snake’s hiss. “I’m going to own you again, Ginny, in every way you can imagine. I made me you mine before, and you’ll be mine again.” His smile is vicious as he reaches around me and unbuckles my seat belt. Before I can process what’s happening, he’s yanked me until I’m laying on the seat and he’s looming over me.

“No,” I say again, beginning to tear up. “Please, don’t, please.” I’m trembling and hating myself for it because it only ignites his excitement. I have visual evidence if I was ever in doubt.

“Boss, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea?—”

“I don’t need your ideas,” Lucas snaps without taking his eyes from my terrified face. “Keep your eyes on the road—both of you.”

“I’ll scream.” I try again, but if anything, it only makes him smile wider.

“Go ahead,” he invites.

Because I can’t think of anything better, I open my mouth and begin to fill my promise, but before more than one note of panic is released, his mouth crashes down on mine. I writhe beneath him, panic filling my lungs, desperation fueling my movement, but he’s on top of me like a stone wall.

This is how I’ll die. Suffocated by Lucas and his disgusting, twisted passion.And I don’t know if it’s fear, or anger, or a combination of both, but I bite his tongue as hard as I can.

He roars up with a shout. “Bitch!”

This time, he does slap me. The car rings with the sound of it. My ears have processed what has happened before my face begins to burn. As the heat of his handprint travels across my cheek along with a biting pain, my eyes tear up. I squeezethem shut. I don’t want him to see, don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

But I feel it when he yanks my sweatpants down.

“Don’t!” I gasp, squeezing my eyes tighter still, refusing to watch as he rapes me.

“What’s going on back there?” one of the guys asks.

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