His to Protect: Midnight Riders MC Read online

  “I gotta go.” I went straight to the door and to my bike. I had to get to her.

  Once I got on, I realized I had no idea where she lived. I pulled out my phone and looked up her name. Alena DeGrom. One of the first results was for a violin teacher. What the hell was this about? I clicked the link.

  There she was, on her own little website. Talking about the way she offered kids lessons so they could learn to love music as much as she did. Blah, blah, blah. A bunch of kids holding violins. Oh, she also performed publicly. I thought I should follow her to one of her performances and see how she liked when I tailed her around town

  There was a number listed under contact info. I took a chance, entering the phone number into the search engine. And there it was. Her home address.

  If a person was going to be as determined to get themselves into trouble as she was, the least she could do would be to leave her address unlisted. It was like she was asking for it.

  And she was about to get it from me. I took off as fast as I could for her house.

  Chapter 9

  Alena

  As soon as I got home, I went straight upstairs to a hot shower. I had to get the feel of that man’s hands off my body. It felt like my clothes carried his stench, though that was probably my imagination. The mix of smoke, booze and sweat were stuck in my head. I smelled him all over me, and washed my hair twice to get rid of him.

  Once I’d finished scrubbing my skin as hard as I could without taking it off, I wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror with a towel. Who was that haunted girl? The one with the dark circles under her eyes, who looked so jumpy and full of dread? That couldn’t be me. I looked as though I’d aged ten years in two days.

  What the hell was I doing? I stared at my reflection, questioning everything that had happened. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up in trouble just like Sara was. And what help would I be to her then? Getting myself killed wouldn’t bring her home. I had to be more careful.

  As terrified as I was, I could see that quitting wasn’t an option. I’d told that man—whoever he was—that I would leave the club alone. At the time, I would have told him anything he wanted to hear. I might even have believed it at the moment, when I was terrified. Now that the moment was over, and I was thinking more clearly, it was obvious I was closer than ever to finding out what happened to my sister. Why else would I have a knife held to my throat? The guy had threatened to kill me. He was scared.

  But so was I. I knew I couldn’t cross him again, because next time he’d go through with killing me, or at least seriously hurting me. I would be easier if I knew who he was. Maybe I could ask Cole. If I described him, he might know who threatened me. That would mean admitting I’d been to the bar, though, when he specifically told me to stay away. That idea was out. Besides, since when was I considering Cole my protector? What a joke. He was easily the most dangerous out of all of them.

  I watched as my eyes filled with tears. I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t. Sara needed me. Why couldn’t she have listened to me when I begged her to be smart and stay away from the club?

  I thought about all the little firsts she’d experienced, the ones I’d been lucky enough to witness. Her first steps. Her first words. I taught her to ride a bike. I remembered the way my heart was in my throat when I first let go of her. She’d gotten all the way to the end of the block before she realized she was alone. Then, of course, she fell. I remembered bandaging her knee later on.

  Her first day of school. I walked her there, since Mom was at work. I was late for school, but by then the teachers didn’t seem to pay attention. They all knew the score. I was raising a kid.

  The first boyfriend. Oh, that had almost killed me. She was only twelve, and it was all innocent enough, even though I knew twelve-year-olds could be pretty sexually savvy, even more than they were when I was that age. I’d read up on the trends for kids her age, like the color-coded sex bracelets—she wasn’t allowed to have them, not even the innocent ones—and the cringe-worthy trend of getting drunk by soaking tampons in booze so the smell didn’t show on the breath. It was a real eye-opener, but I’d done my best to keep her on the straight and narrow by staying ahead of things like that.

  Then came the first heartbreak. That was just the worst. I was still young enough for my own memories of heartbreak to be fresh. I remembered struggling not to cry right along with her.

  Somebody was trying to take her away from me. I couldn’t step aside and let them get away with it, even if it put me in danger.

  I was startled by the sound of the doorbell, jumping and shrieking a little. My heart took off at a gallop. He’d followed me here. I should have known he wasn’t going to let me go so easily. He’d only waited for me to relax so that I wouldn’t be on my guard. Now he was going to attack me where nobody could disturb us this time.

  I looked around for a weapon, but I was in the bathroom, so there wasn’t much to choose from. My eyes fell on a curling iron, the hair dryer. Hairspray? Would it work like mace?

  I picked up my phone instead, creeping down the stairs with it. The doorbell sounded again, then again. Whoever was there was in a hurry.

  “I’m calling 9-1-1!” I shouted, digging my nails into the palm of my free hand to keep my voice from sounding scared. I dialed the number, my thumb poised over the “Call” button. “I mean it! I’m doing it right now so you’d better leave!”

  “Alena, it’s me. Open the door.” Cole. I breathed a sigh of relief, then thought twice. Was he any better than the alternative? I didn’t know if I could trust him any more than the rest of the club. I had to give this some thought. Maybe he’d found out I’d been there earlier, and he came here to punish me. He sounded pretty angry. I’d gone too far this time.

  Then I remembered how he’d kissed me. He couldn’t want to hurt me, not if he kissed me the way he had. If he wanted to, he could have hurt me in my car, or taken me to his house to do it. He was here because he wanted me to be safe. I had to believe that.

  I opened the door. I wanted to know how he found me—was it really that easy? Could my friend with the knife find me, too?

  Before I could say a word, he pushed his way into the house and shut the door. There went my heart again, faster than ever. He was enraged, his face bright red. I shrank against the wall, instantly regretting letting him in but knowing he could easily have broken the door down if he felt like it. He leaned in, one hand on either side of my head.

  “What the fuck were you doing at the bar?” He was close to me, nearly screaming in my face. “Didn’t I warn you? Do you think this is some kind of game?”

  “No! I don’t!” I nearly peed myself, I was so terrified. I was shaking, flinching away from his fury. Just like the guy at the bar, he meant business.

  “Then why can’t you listen? Why do you keep coming back for more when I’ve done everything I could to warn you?” He punched the wall, nowhere near my head, but it was still enough to make me scream softly, almost curling up in a ball. I felt the wall shake behind me.

  “Because I have to find Sara.” I was whimpering, my hands over my face. Like a wounded animal. The defiant part of me, the one that kept getting me into trouble, screamed at me to stop acting so whipped. I was too scared to listen. I was afraid he’d hit me next if I didn’t stay still and quiet.

  “But don’t you get it? You’re gonna get yourself killed! This isn’t a fucking game, Alena!” He was roaring, and when I dared to sneak a glance at him I saw how the way his eyes were glaring at me. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. I’d heard about his temper, hadn’t I?

  He moved away, pushing off the wall where he had me trapped. I watched as he paced the room, reminding me of a jungle cat. He was just as dangerous as one, for sure. I was too afraid to speak, or to even move a muscle. I was afraid of what might happen if I did. The slightest thing might set him off.

  A vision flashed in front of me. My mom, in the corner, on the floor. One of her “boyfriends” standing over her, scre
aming at her. I took Sara and ran up to my room with her, locking the door. We had huddled together on my bed for a long time. I still didn’t know how that situation played out for Mom. I’d been singing to Sara, the radio turned up, my voice drowning out what was happening downstairs.

  Now I thought about my sister. Had that been her, just before she vanished? Curled up in a corner on the floor, with some thug screaming down at her?

  “How can I get through to you?” he growled, glancing at me. “How can I make you understand the shit you’re stirring up? What will it take for you to see how serious this is? What do I have to do?”

  “Why won’t you help me?” I asked, still whimpering. “Why are you just telling me to stop when I told you already what it means to me that I find my sister? I don’t understand.”

  “You’re right. You don’t understand. That’s why it’s best for you to go away and stay away.”

  “I can’t!” I was crying, desperate. Why didn’t anyone want to listen to me?

  “Then you’re gonna get yourself killed, girl. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Then I get killed! But I don’t have a choice!” I had to make him see. He seemed like a reasonable enough person—maybe even more intelligent than the ones he rode with.

  “You’re wrong! You have a choice. Make the right choice before it’s too late.”

  “I don’t get it. You’re supposed to be the leader. Why can’t you tell your guys to lay off, or tell them to cooperate with me?”

  “It doesn’t work that way!” He roared again. The defiant voice in my head told me he sounded scared. But I was still too scared, myself, to pay attention.

  “I told you,” I said, trying to take another route, “that this is just me. You know? I’m the only one who cares. The police don’t anymore, thanks to your pack of criminal deadbeats. They let you do whatever the fuck you want, even if it means killing a girl. What do they care? As long as you’re not bothering them. Right?” He wouldn’t answer. I knew I was right.

  Then my fear started to turn to anger. He wasn’t the only one with a temper.

  “Why is it okay for you guys to threaten me like this? Why can’t you assholes control yourselves? Huh?” I walked over to him, getting in his face just like he’d done to me, except I was a foot shorter than he was.

  “You have no idea,” he said. “None.”

  “I do! I understand you’re a bunch of criminals who don’t give a shit about good people like Sara and me!”

  “That’s life,” he said.

  “But it’s not okay! Instead of you assholes not being fucking criminals who threaten and hurt people, I’m the one who’s supposed just to roll over and forget my sister ever existed! That’s not going to happen!” I was screaming, not caring who heard. Maybe one of the neighbors would call the cops. Good. Let them find this creep here. I’d tell them how he’d threatened me. Once they knew it was all because I was poking a stick in the club’s hornet’s nest, maybe they would do something to find Sara.

  “Just. Stay. Out. Of our business.” He was completely calm, flat. Was I dreaming? Or hallucinating? How could he not care?

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I didn’t think before I acted, just lashing out. I shoved him. Granted, it was a lot like shoving a brick wall for all the effect I had. He stayed completely still, but it made me feel better so I did it again, then shouted, “How can you be so calm about this? Somebody in your club has to do with this! I know it! I know you do, too! How can you not care?” I pushed again and again against him as I vented, the words pouring out of my mouth. All of my rage and fear and heartbreak came out, and I pushed him over and over because I needed to hit something and he was the closest person to me. I needed him to react somehow.

  But he didn’t. He stood still, looking at the wall. I might as well have been screaming at myself.

  I looked around the room, my eyes finding a framed photo of Sara and me on one of the end tables. It was one of my favorites. She had just graduated high school a few minutes before the shot was snapped, and was wearing her cap and gown and the honors stole around her neck. I’d worked my ass off to keep her in school and make sure she had the little things she needed. She’d been babysitting for years, but I wanted that money to go toward school and a car. I made sure she had money for fun with friends, shopping, a prom dress. All those things that made school more than just a place to go every day.

  “See this?” I held the framed photo up to Cole’s face. “This is my sister. And that’s me, next to her. I don’t know who you think you knew, but this? This is her. The real Sara. She’s the girl I put through school, even when it meant I couldn’t have a social life because I was working so hard. She’s the person I’ve spent my whole fucking life trying to set a good example for. She’s the only person I have in the world and somebody from your club took her from me. I know it.”

  He wouldn’t look at the picture, turning his eyes away.

  “Why won’t you look? Huh?” I kept following his eyes, holding the picture in front of him no matter where he looked. “Is it because you know? You know what happened to her?” I looked at the photo. We had both been smiling so wide. It was one of the best days of my life.

  “My Sara…” I burst into tears all over again. Just when I was sure there were no more tears inside me, that they had all dried up, they always started all over again. I held the frame to my chest, crying over it. I wished I was holding her, not just her picture. The further I went with trying to find her, the less likely it seemed that would ever happen.

  It had always been Sara and me. Just like I was the only one who could raise her, I was the only one who could bring her home. Nobody else cared.

  Chapter 10

  Cole

  I let her get it out of her system. She had pushed and shoved, punched me, screamed. I knew she was exhausting herself, but I didn’t feel a thing. She was like a little girl, so small and weak.

  It wasn’t that I liked seeing her this way. I wasn’t getting a sick pleasure from it the way I got the feeling she thought I was. It’s just that there was nothing I could do. I felt for her. But I wasn’t kidding when I said she had no idea how deep this went.

  Now she was holding the picture of her and Sara against her chest, crying over it. This was even worse than her anger. The anger I could deal with. This? I was never any good at watching a woman cry.

  “Calm down,” I said, putting my arms around her. It was awkward, but I did what I could. “Don’t cry.”

  “I can’t help it.” She was sobbing. Her whole body was shaking. For such a tiny person she could cry awfully hard.

  “Please. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m trying to help you. You don’t have to cry like this,” I said.

  “I do, though!” She pulled away from me to look up into my face. She practically had to tilt her head all the way back on her neck to do it. “I was so scared earlier. I still am.”

  So she was gonna tell me what happened at the bar. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything!” She was trying to catch her breath, so I gave her a chance.

  I looked around the room for tissues and steered her to them. She sat down, blowing her nose, wiping her eyes. She looked so hurt and scared. I stood over her, noticing again how different we were. But for all her littleness, she had a lot of strength inside her. That sort of true strength wasn’t something I saw all the time.

  I sat down next to her once she was a little quieter. “What happened tonight?”

  She sniffled. “So I went to the bar, which you know.”

  “Yeah.” I was still pretty pissed over that.

  “And when I was there…there was a guy who I hadn’t seen before. I mean, not like I’d be able to pick any of you out of a lineup if I tried.” She shot a look at me, her eyes were wide. Like she’d said something she knew she shouldn’t.

  I waved my hand. “Whatever. I know what you meant.”

  She nodded. “So this guy was watching me, a
nd he waited outside and pulled me around to the side of the building. He pushed me up against the wall…” She started crying again, and covered her face with her hands.

  “What did he do to you?” I tried not to sound too angry, because I didn’t want her to think it was her I was mad at. She was already upset enough.

  One of her hands moved down to her throat. “A knife. Against my throat.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” This was news to me. My blood pressure went through the roof. Who would go that far? Just about any of them, really. If they felt threatened enough. They didn’t care if the person they were holding a knife to was a man or a woman. I had never felt that way.

  She nodded. “I was so scared. He said he’d kill me.”

  “Fuck, Alena! Do you understand now? You’re in serious trouble. You have to stay away.” I was surer than ever that she was on very thin ice. I wouldn’t hurt her, but I couldn’t guarantee none of my guys would. Some of them were really bad news when another person pushed them too far. Like animals when they’re cornered. I’d seen gentle dogs go insane and violent when they were cornered. And these men weren’t gentle to begin with.