Page 64 of Queen of Blades

Both of her brothers were out of town. Harper’s blood ran cold. Weston didn’t know. If he was away on club business, then he was out of contact. No one could get in touch with him. Which meant he wasn’t aware of their father’s death, and he definitely hadn’t been told about Dwight taking over.

Motherfucker.

“So, now that you’re back where you belong, we can finish what we started.” Dwight released her head, and it dropped.

Thankfully, she still had the wherewithal not to let her chin slam onto the table. Closing her eyes, she fought another wave of intense nausea as her head felt as though someone twisted a dagger into the base of her skull.

“Church is in session, brothers!” Dwight announced, turning away from her with his arms raised. “First point of order, I am claiming Harper Myers as my ol’ lady.” His hand landed on her left ass cheek with a loud crack. As her flesh jiggled beneath her torn leggings, a fresh sting rippled through her.

The room erupted into a chorus of loud cheers and whistles. From the sound of it, the club had grown significantly since she’d last graced these halls.

“I am not your ol’ lady,” Harper insisted, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Wriggling as best she could, she futilely tried to escape his grip as he massaged and groped her, his fingers dipping between the crack between her cheeks and lower.

“Get off me!” she ordered, just as unsuccessfully.

“Prepare the iron!” he hollered.

The clubhouse roared louder.

Harper’s heart stopped and her eyes widened. Iron? No. He couldn’t be serious.

Turning back toward her, he once again bent to fill her vision. “Don’t look so scared.” He grinned manically.

The way his eyes sparkled filled her with fear. The Dwight she’d grown up with never looked this evil. Even after she’d broken up with him over a decade ago, when he hadn’t taken it well, he didn’t have that expression.

The devil looked back at her.

This was beyond terrifying. She might not make it out of this alive.

Where had the kid she’d grown up with gone?

Stroking her bruised cheek, he studied her. “It only hurts for like a week or so, but it’s worth it. You, and everyone else, will know you belong to me.”

He poked at the tip of her nose before he stood up and stepped aside. His fingers curled in the waistband of her leggings.

“What are you doing?” she screamed and twisted, pulling her legs up. The zip ties tore at her ankles. She needed to get out of this.

“Hold her,” Dwight barked.

Meaty hands pressed down on her shoulders.

“Fuck you!” she screeched as more came down on the backs of her calves and thighs. The surrounding bikers flattened her body down on the table. The harder she fought, the more men pushed her down.

“Fighting is useless,” he said, wearing a grin. “Just go with it. If you don’t, and you move too much, you’ll fuck it up. I guarantee you don’t want that, because I’ll just do it again somewhere else. Like your beautiful tits. I’ll keep doing it until I get a good one.”

She squeezed her eyes shut the moment Dwight yanked her leggings and panties down, exposing her ass to the room. Helpless, she stilled and allowed the tears to stream down her face as humiliation added insult to injury.

Begging him to stop would only make matters worse. He wouldn’t. Dwight wanted her to know he was in control. He had to show his men that he took what he wanted, and hewantedHarper. She was a pawn in his stupid biker power play game. She’d never hated him more than she did at that moment.

“Breathe through it, baby” were the last words she heard before the most intense, blinding pain seared the side of her right ass cheek.

Fire. Her burning flesh filled her nostrils as she let out an ear-piercingly loud shriek. Despite the men holding her down, she trembled through the most unbearable anguish she had ever felt.

“Good girl,” Dwight cooed in her ear as he stroked her hair.

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