Painter was a fantasy, a dream about what could be. Had I ever even had a real conversation with him? I couldn’t remember anything that went past casual. But Liam was real. Liam wanted me as much as I wanted him, and while there was no question things were physically intense between us, I knew there was more to it than that. We’d connected from hundreds of miles apart. I could tell him anything and he made me laugh, and the fact that he was hot as hell was just the icing on the cake.
I had a feeling I’d have fallen for Liam if he’d been shorter than me with a gut and a hairy back.
That was a theory I’d have to go without testing, poor me. Liam in person was sexier than I’d ever imagined, and I had a very good imagination. The office door opened and he stepped back in, giving me a burning, intense look that made me wet.
“You’re beautiful, Em,” he said. “One more kiss, okay?”
Yeah, wasn’t gonna argue with that.
He pulled me into his arms and his lips covered mine, tongue sliding deep inside. He was almost brutal in his intensity, burying himself in my mouth.
Then he broke loose.
“Let’s go.”
“I need to wait for my friends,” I said. “I texted them while you were making your call. We’re supposed to meet them out front.”
“Kimber and Sophie, right?” he asked. “How well do you know them?”
“Um, not that well, actually,” I said. “Sophie is sort of weirdly involved with Ruger. It’s complicated. Kimber’s her friend. They’re really nice, and lots of fun. But I don’t think either of them really counts as available, if you’re thinking of the guy who came with you?”
He shook his head.
“No worries,” he said. “Hey, while we wait do you mind running out to my van with me? I want to grab a bag. Toothbrush, that kind of shit.”
I felt my cheeks heat up. He needed that stuff because we were spending the night together. Me. Spending the night with him. Damn. Why couldn’t I be all cool instead of dorky?
“Sure,” I told him. “We have a couple minutes.”
Liam took my hand and walked me down the back hall.
“There’s parking out back?” I asked.
“Employees only,” he told me. “Mick doesn’t mind, though. We go way back.”
He opened the back door, popping out the deadbolt so the door couldn’t fully close behind us. Then he tugged me toward a black cargo van.
His friend stepped out from behind it. I smiled at him, then looked at Liam, expecting him to introduce us.
He didn’t.
The other man moved toward me, his face grim. This wasn’t right. Not right at all. Deep inside my head an alarm bell blared, complete with flashing red lights. As long as I could remember, my parents had taught me to trust my instincts, and every instinct I had told me to get the hell out of here.
Liam was up to something. Fuck. Too good to be true. Just my luck.
How to do it? The door behind us was still open, but I wasn’t sure anyone in that particular bar would help me, even if I made it inside. I glanced down the alley—we were midway through the block and loud music filled the air from a nightclub next door. Screaming would be useless.
I had to get out of this narrow passage and find some witnesses.
I pretended to stumble, then knelt down as if I were fixing my shoe. Instead I undid the straps so I could step out of them when I took off. At least the alley was paved . . . Maybe I wouldn’t cut up my feet too bad? I was gonna look like a real dumbass if this was nothing.
Pisser.
“You okay?” Liam asked. I looked up at him and smiled sweetly.
“I’m fine—just need to fix my strap,” I told him. Then I took a deep breath, rising slightly into a runner’s start, and took off down the alley, my gorgeous f**k-me pumps left behind. I sprinted toward the street, hearing their surprised shouts. Vaguely I heard Liam yell at me to stop. If there wasn’t anything hinky going on, I’d look like a crazy woman.
But you know what?
Something wasn’t right about the situation. I knew it in my bones, and Dad had pounded it into my head—listen to your gut. He said it’d saved his life more than once. Good enough for me. I heard feet pounding behind me, but I was getting close to the end of the alleyway. I saw people up ahead, walking past. It was noisy outside, between traffic and the loud music. Would they hear me?
I’d just opened my mouth to scream when he tackled me from behind. The ground came toward me and I had a fraction of a second to wonder just how bad the hit would hurt. Then my body twisted and flew up. Somehow I was on my back, on top of Liam, his strong arms wrapping around me like shackles.
His friend caught up to us and pointed what looked like a gun.
I gasped for breath, eyes wide.
Yup.
That was definitely a gun.
At least he didn’t have a clear shot with me on top of Liam.
I tried to scream again and a big hand clamped around my mouth. Then I tried biting Liam and used every bit of leverage I could to kick down at him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much.
“Shut the f**k up and stop fighting,” he growled in my ear. “If you do what you’re told, you won’t get hurt.”
I didn’t bother listening. I just kept kicking and biting as his arms slowly tightened around me, making it harder to breathe.
Then his fingers pinched off my nose and I froze.
“You want to stay awake, princess, you’ll stop fighting. Nod your head if you understand.”
I was so f**king pissed off. I wanted to kill him, but I’d started seeing spots and I knew I wouldn’t hold out much longer. What the hell would they do to me if I lost consciousness? Nothing good.
I nodded.
Liam let my nose go and I sucked in air, the darkness fading away.
“Now I’m gonna get up and we’re going over to the van,” he said. “I don’t have time to argue with you, so if you want to stay awake, you do what I say.”
I nodded again.
He sat up, taking me with him.
“Get your ass moving,” his friend said, eyes dark and full of something like hate. Not good . . . “Walk over to the van and keep your f**king mouth shut. Hunter might not want you hurt, but I could give a shit—got me?”
I could tell he meant it, so I stood slowly and walked toward the van, considering the implications of his friend calling Liam “Hunter.” None of them were good. I tried to stall as long as I could, but it was pointless. Nobody saw us. Nothing.I stopped next to the van.
“Arms up and on the sides,” Liam said, his voice cold. Completely unlike the man I thought I’d known. Christ, I sucked at reading men. First Painter and now this bullshit? I assumed the position, choking back a little laugh. I’d seen this on TV a thousand times. What a f**king cliche. Pathetic.
I heard the back of the van open, then hard hands ran over my body. Liam’s hands. I smelled him behind as he thrust his knee between my legs, separating them. He frisked me so thoroughly that for one horrible moment I wondered if he was an undercover cop.
Then his hand stopped on my boob and his breath caught.
Shit. If Liam was a cop, he was definitely a dirty one. That was good news—dirty cops could be bribed. He pushed into me, and I felt the length of his erect c**k dig into my ass as he whispered in my ear.
“Sorry, babe. This wasn’t the plan.”
“Fuck you.”
He sighed.
Then he stepped back, taking my hands and pulling them behind my back. Cold metal clicked around my wrists. Suddenly a strip of fabric came down around my face.
“Open your mouth,” Liam told me. I shook my head. He pushed forward into me again, and his dick felt even bigger and harder now. Holy shit, this was turning him on.
Kidnapping girls turns him on.
Fuck. FUCK.
“Open. Your. Mouth,” he said again, and this time the menace in his voice was unmistakable. His prick nudged me again, and then his hips, shifting, sliding it slowly up the crack of my ass. I felt a whole new level of fear.
Who is this man?
I opened my mouth and the fabric slid inside. He tied it tight around my head, then reached a hand around to my front, pulling me back and into him. My cuffed hands bumped his stomach, my ass cradling his erection.
“What about her friends?” I heard the other guy ask. “Any value there?”
“One’s connected to the club,” Liam said, his breath warm against my ear. “Same bitch we saw in Seattle with the kid. Not sure how official it is, but Ruger’s got something goin’ on with her. The other one’s just deadweight.”
I shivered, hoping to hell Kimber and Sophie didn’t come looking for me. Oh God. I’d never forgive myself if I dragged them into this . . . whatever the f**k “this” was.
His hand on my waist lowered, finding the sliver of bare flesh between the bottom of my corset and the top of my jeans. Then his hand dipped into my pocket, lingering with indecent hesitation before pulling out my phone. Liam stepped back. I saw the glow of the screen reflected in the van’s darkened window as he called up my message history.
“She told them to meet her out front,” he told his friend. “Go inside. Let’s give it ten minutes, see if they come looking for her. Might give us an advantage if we can grab one.”
“Got it.”
I heard the slam of the bar door closing as Liam’s accomplice went back in. Strong hands grasped my upper arms, turning me to face him. I stared up into his darkened face with wide eyes, hoping I didn’t look as scared and helpless as I felt. He lifted a hand, sliding his fingers into my hair and tightening them.
Liam’s other hand found my waist, inching up toward my breast. I thought he’d touch me there, but at the last minute he pulled away until only his fingertips grazed me. He traced upward between my br**sts, then caught my chin and tilted my face toward him.
“I think you might be even prettier tied up,” he whispered. “Christ, I want to f**k you.”
He lowered his head, running his nose along my cheek, scenting me. I shuddered, and not just from fear. Even now—after it was so clear he’d been lying to me all along, although about what I couldn’t be certain—I wanted him.
Liam made a strangled noise, then pulled back and jerked my upper arm, dragging me around to the open back of the van. He pushed me in, face forward. I fell, bracing myself to hit hard, but at the last second he caught me, lowering me to the floor on my side.
Then he grabbed my feet and pulled them together. His hands lingered on my ankles, then one slid upward along the back of my thigh. He found the curve of my ass, tracing the line where it met my upper thigh until his fingers cradled my butt cheek. His thumb dipped down between my legs ever so slightly . . . Then he squeezed my flesh hard, almost spasmodically, and I squeaked in surprised pain.
“Sorry,” he murmured, rubbing the hurt before returning to business.
I felt rope wrapping tight around my ankles, then Liam leaned forward over me. I glared at him, putting everything I had into sending him the message that I’d be killing him just as soon as I got the chance.
His face was serious and strangely blank, but he reached out and tugged my hair out of my face.
“Fuckin’ shame,” he said, his voice almost thoughtful. “I doubt you’ll believe me, but I’m really sorry about this.”
I raised my eyebrows, making it clear he was right—I didn’t believe a word he said. Liam sighed, then closed the van doors.
Huh. Shitty, shitty first date.
• • •
I lay in the dark for what felt like forever, waiting for something to happen. Ideally, this would include the entire Reapers nation bursting through the van doors, but I was mostly just hoping Sophie and Kimber wouldn’t get dragged into my shit.
A few minutes later I heard a scuffle and then the back opened again. Sophie flew in, hitting the floor. Liam climbed in after her, cuffing her, gagging her, and tying her up just like me. I stared at her terrified face, torn between guilt that I’d gotten her into this and determination to kill Liam myself. Preferably with my bare hands.
After castrating him.
I heard his friend climb into the front and gun the engine.
“Sorry, girls,” Liam said. “Hopefully this won’t get too ugly and you’ll get to go home soon.”
Oh, it would definitely be getting ugly. I promised him that with my eyes.
He ignored me, moving forward to join his friend as the van took off. We didn’t drive far, though. After a few minutes they pulled off the road and came to a stop. Then they stepped out and walked around to the back. Liam’s friend reached in and grabbed Sophie, sitting her up. He dug into her purse, pulling out her phone.
His sleeve rode up as he did it, and my heart stopped.
There was a f**king Devil’s Jacks tattoo on his arm.
Shit. Shit. SHIT.
This was much worse than I ever imagined. I’d spent my whole life hating the Devil’s Jacks. They’d been fighting with the Reapers for twenty years in one way or another. I saw things in a sudden, bright, horribly clear light.
Liam, slowly becoming my friend.
Liam, asking me about my day, talking to me about anything and everything. Liam, always willing to hear me out and encouraging me to share with him.
My good “friend” Liam was a f**king stalker.
A stalker who’d used me to learn about my club, and now he obviously planned to use me against my father. Acid filled my stomach, and for one wretched instant I thought I might vomit and choke myself, because this was the worst thing I could imagine doing.
I’d betrayed my club.
Not knowingly, but that hardly mattered. There would be fresh bodies because of this. Those deaths would be on me and my stupid, impulsive decision to let Liam into my life.