Relent - Page 6/65

“Fuck,” I muttered, understanding his reason for being here now. I’d be here, too, if it was my sister.

“Yeah, fuck. Skylar didn’t fucking tell me she was dating him because if she had, I would have put a fucking stop to it. The fucker is a Silver Hell member. I only found all this shit out when my friend called me to ask how she was.”

Fuck.

If what I figured was about to go down did actually go down, we were about to declare war with the Silver Hell MC.

King finished his smoke and stubbed it out. Slapping me on the back, he asked, “You with me, brother?”

I never hesitated when it came to my President. “Yeah, I’ve always got your back.”

His eyes lit with that dangerous gleam again. “Let’s go party then.”

He strode to the front door and banged it hard with the palm of his hand and yelled out, “Open up, motherfucker!”

We waited for less than a minute before the door was yanked open. A pissed-off Silver Hell member glared at us, but only for a second, because King stepped inside the house and sucker punched him. The guy dropped to the ground, knocked out cold, and King stepped over his body to walk down the hallway.

I entered the house and the stench of cigarette smoke, booze and sex hit me. Fuck, I hoped the women had left already. King was unpredictable, yes, but my guess was he wouldn’t leave any witnesses alive to tell the tale.

The hallway led into a filthy kitchen full of dirty dishes and rubbish strewn across the counters. It was empty so we continued into the living room. Still empty in there, but a bloodcurdling scream from an adjoining room alerted us where to go next. King picked up the pace and kicked the door in without even attempting to open it. Jacked up on adrenaline and a desire for revenge, nothing would stop him now.

“What the fuck is going on here?” King thundered as he came to a halt the minute he entered the room.

I followed him in and stopped, too, sickened at the sight in front of us. A Silver Hell’s biker had a naked girl strapped to the bed, spreadeagled. He sat atop her but I could see her face, and she didn’t look to be any older than about sixteen. And it wasn’t consent written across her stricken face.

“Fuck,” I muttered. I’d seen a lot of shit in my life, but this type took the fucking cake. The fact the guy was still fully clothed gave me hope that he hadn’t done too much to her yet. Regardless, this shit was fucked up.

The guy shifted off the bed and came towards us, a menacing glare in his eyes. “What the fuck business is it of yours, and how the fuck did you get in here?” He was tall and built, and his body was tensed, ready for a fight. He’d obviously never met my president; I’d never known King to lose a fight.

“The name Skylar ring a fucking bell, asshole?” King demanded.

A look of recognition crossed the guy’s face but he said, “Never heard that name in my life. Now fuck off and leave me the hell alone.”

King seethed with anger, the rage clinging to his words as he said, “Your first mistake, Marco, was fucking with my sister. Your second mistake was raping the girl on your bed, and your last fucking mistake will be lying to me.”

He stepped towards Marco and punched him hard in the face. The sound of bone cracking vibrated around the room. The guy retaliated, aiming a punch at King’s cheek, but King blocked it, shoving the guy backwards and into the wall. As he sagged against it, and slid to the ground, King advanced and stood over him.

“Wanna tell me the truth now?” he asked, his voice deathly calm and controlled.

Marco glared up at him and then spat at his feet. “Your sister was a good fucking root, man. That cunt of hers was sweet and tight -”

King cut him off with a punch to the jaw. His head swung to the side and hit the bedside table before King hauled him up by his shirt, swung him around and shoved him forcefully into the other wall. It was obvious from the look on King’s face that he had only one thing on his mind – death.

As King continued to rain pain down onto the guy, I turned my attention to the girl on the bed. Terror flashed in her eyes and as I walked towards her, her whole body flinched as if she was trying desperately to escape me.

I shook my head. “You’re safe with me, darlin’,” I murmured as I pulled my knife from its sheath. Cutting the ropes tied to her wrists and feet, I freed her. She scrambled into a huddled position with her knees up and arms around them, and stared at me in silence, obviously waiting to see what I would do to her.

Fuck, I hated this shit. Hated the fear she felt because of a man who believed it was his right to take whatever he wanted from a woman.

I sat on the bed beside her and pointed at King who was still beating the shit out of the rapist asshole. “That man’s sister was used by the guy who was raping you, and that’s why we’re here. He won’t stop until he kills the guy, at which point we’ll take you wherever you want to go. You’re safe with us. Okay?”

Her eyes widened and then she nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, her body visibly relaxing a little.

“Good. Now where are your clothes?”

She jerked her chin towards the corner of the room and I located them and brought them to her. “Get dressed, ‘cause I don’t think we’re gonna be here much longer,” I said as I took in the bloodied mess King was creating.

I left her to it and walked back to where King was. “You need a hand, boss?” I asked.

He stopped mid-punch and looked up at me. His long dark hair stuck to his sweaty face, his eyes held the crazy that I knew he was made of, and his breaths were coming hard. “Does it look like I need a fucking hand, smartass?” he asked. He’d knocked Marco unconscious and, by the looks of it, Marco’s remaining breaths were limited.