“Freaking extortionist mechanics.” My words are swallowed by the wind as I put my head down and hurry through the empty streets. The occasional car passes, and in the distance, the faint roar of a motorbike cuts through the silent night. Funny how I notice bikers and their rides since working at the clubhouse. I glance at the clouds overhead. With the reflection of the city lights and the blanket of cloud cover, it’s a starless sky. It has that eerie yellow glow, as if the earth is sick. I turn and scan the street behind me, but it’s empty. I quicken my pace to make sure it stays that way.
I’m a block from my apartment when footsteps echo behind me. I can’t make out whether the person is male or female, but they are short, stocky, decked out in black and moving at a clipped pace. I hurry forward, pushing my already exhausted body, palming my phone in my pocket as if it were a lifeline. I should have just grabbed my keys. They might not be able to do any real bodily harm, but they’d hurt like hell getting up close and personal with your eyeball.
The person behind me starts to jog—their shoes slap against the pavement as they move closer. Not runners then. I should cross the street. I should pull out my phone and dial triple zero, then grab my keys from my purse. But as I turn and stare at the heavily muscled physique hurtling toward me, I know I have no choice but to run.
I yank my hand from my pocket, and my phone falls to the ground, shattering on the concrete. I don’t have time to go back for it, because the man is getting closer. His face is clearer now. White-blond hair, a square jaw and eyes that are blacker than midnight, and just as fathomless. I turn, my arms pistons at my sides, my legs protesting every stride, and then my hair is yanked hard. I’m pulled back as his body slams into me, and we tumble to the ground. Concrete scrapes my face as he shoves a meaty hand against my skull, pushing me farther into the unyielding surface.
“Please. Please don’t hurt me,” I beg, but my words are barely audible. “Take my purse—I got paid yesterday. I have a few hundred dollars.”
“Shut up, bitch.” His voice is gruff and heavily accented. His weight pins me, one hand crushing my skull, the other unbuckling his belt.
“Please, please,” I sob. “Don’t do this.”
“Shut the fuck up.” His rough hands tug at my jeans. I’m not a slim girl, so they don’t budge. He yanks harder. “My boss wants you to deliver a message to your biker scum, but he never said anything about how fucking sweet this arse would be. There’s nothing wrong with a little fun first, huh, blondie?” He slides his hand between my legs, groping me with rough touches.
“No. Get off me! Please. Stop!”
He yanks my jeans, causing my body to slide against the abrasive concrete. I scream and manage a solid kick to his groin. He reels back, but I can’t get away fast enough, and I’m slammed back down to the pavement. He tugs at my waistband, ripping the seams, as I fight to get away. My efforts only help him to expose more of my lower abdomen. And then he pulls out the gun, and I still completely.
The arsehole smiles as he cocks the pistol and shoves the cold metal against my head. “That’s more like it. Now, you’re going to slide your jeans down the rest of the way and let me inside that tight little cunt. I’m going to rape you bloody, and at the end, you’re going to call your boss and tell him we want the big guy. He fucked with Russian affairs, and now the Russians fuck him in return. But first, blondie, I’m going to shove my cock in so deep that you’ll feel it in your throat.”
GRIM
“YOU BOYS BE GOOD.” Raine smiles at Kick and Crazy as she’s pulling her keys from the purse on her shoulder. I don’t know why she needs her keys when she hasn’t driven her car in a goddamn month. I can’t exactly ask her though, because I’m not supposed to know her every move, but I do. And wouldn’t Prez just love to know that? He’d have my balls for paperweights if he knew just how closely I’ve watched this woman.
“Always, babe.” Kick shoots her a wink and puts his feet up on the coffee table. A table Raine just got done cleaning an hour ago. Fucking arsehole.
I liked Kick. I’ve always had a soft spot for the kid, until Raine started working here, that is. Now I hate the closeness those two share. Doesn’t matter that he’s only got eyes for his old lady—he’s still a man, and I don’t like that they’re as tight as they are, maybe because deep down I resent him. She trusts him. She knows she’s safe with him. With me, on the other hand? Safe is probably the last thing she feels.
Raine leaves, and I force myself to wait a full five minutes before I slam my empty bottle on the bar and slide from the stool.
“Night, Reaper,” Kick says, and I’d give my left nut to wipe that goddamn self-assured smile off his face, but I have zero interest in starting something I have no time to finish.
“Don’t you have an old lady to go home to now?”
“Girls’ night out. They’re throwin’ a farewell for one of the bitches who works at the coffee shop. I’m just killin’ time until Indie calls me to pick her fine arse up and drive her home.”
I glance at Brooke, one of the resident club whores, who sits beside Kick.
“Just make sure your old lady is the only one you’re driving it home to.”
“You ain’t gotta worry about me, brother. I got all the woman I need in my little spitfire, but you, on the other hand, better catch up. Sadie the cleaning lady left ten minutes ago, and following her don’t do much good if you can’t find her.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ ’bout.”
“Yeah, me neither.” He gifts me with that fucking wink again. What the hell is this kid’s problem? I’m starting to think he might need to see a fucking eye doctor.
I head for the door. Despite being a little know-it-all prick, Kick is right. I gotta get the hell outta here before I miss Raine. She’s more than likely on the bus right now, and she should be there for another ten minutes before having to walk at least another kilometre back to her apartment.
Outside, I climb on the bike and start the engine, revving the throttle. Trigger’s manning the gate, and I nod on my way out.
The streets around the clubhouse are quiet at this time of night and it isn’t long before I’m opening up my baby on the highway. Cold wind rushes over my face, creeping into the pockets of exposed flesh created by my hoodie.
I slow as I take the exit and a few minutes later, I turn the corner onto her street. This part of Redfern sucks. It’s mostly all mum and pop shops, and green grocers who’ve long since closed, and abandoned buildings. But it’s not safe for any woman, let alone someone as fucking beautiful as Raine.
I pull into the shadows created by an abandoned building. The alley is dark—it’s always dark—and I can’t see the front doors of her apartment block from here, so I park my bike, remove my helmet, and walk up the deserted street. Why she lives in this shithole is beyond me. I wait in the dismal laneway, staring at the piece-of-shit cars parked under one gloomy streetlight.
“Get off me! Please. Get off!”
What the fuck? That’s Raine, alright, but I can’t see her. She screams, and my blood curdles.