“You are not allowed in my home,” Fate warned him.
Odin moved to stand by Fate, deliberately blocking the sky with his height. A finger reached out and traced an imaginary line from her throat down her breastbone, left bare from the cleavage of her gown.
“You’re looking especially beautiful tonight.” His large hand reached out again, this time cupping the nape of her neck, pulling her closer to his muscular body.
Fate felt dwarfed by his size, fighting against the intimidation that he was trying to instill within her. Stiffening her body, she jerked away from him, moving a distance away to resume her study of the sky.
“I was informed of Cara’s return home.” Out of the corner of her eye, Fate saw him lean casually against the balustrade, his arms crossed casually across his chest.
“Our bargain will not be met until all of my daughters are home.” Fate was well aware of why Odin had decided to show up at her palace.
Odin grinned at Fate’s tart reply. “Will they also have a tag-along?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Cara is soon to be wed to a demi-God. Did none of the Gods meet with your approval?”
Fate angrily took a step toward him. “Are you suggesting that I endangered my daughters to find them husbands?”
Laugher erupted, turning his sensual face almost boyish with the charm of the sound. “Not at all, but I am certain that you would take advantage of the situation to find them husbands you deem appropriate.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Now, now. Don’t bring my brother into this.”
Fate narrowed her eyes, giving the buffoon a look that any sensible God would take as a warning. No one had ever said that Odin was a genius, however. She would have her revenge on his clumsy attempt at humor. She would win in their battle of wills. Odin was never going to get in her panties ever again, even if she had to fight her own desires to thwart him.
“Your brother would never be smart enough to kidnap my daughters.” As the words left her mouth, an idea formed that she should have thought of earlier—much earlier.
“Why are you here, Odin?”
Odin shrugged, remaining silent.
“Your brother wouldn’t take my daughters, but he might know who did.” Fate looked at his impassive face. “You came here to help me?” Fate could not keep the incredulity out of her voice.
Once again, Odin moved near her, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I am becoming impatient to have you again. I have no problem in giving you my help to achieve my own goal.”
Fate turned around, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. She had agreed to spend a night in his bed in payment for his aid in getting her son, Thor, to agree to speak with her.
“That sounds more like the Odin I know.” Slapping his hand away, Fate glided away from him, moving towards the doorway.
“And love.” His whisper followed her inside. For all his power, Odin was not permitted inside her home without her or Mother’s approval. Her anger at Odin’s duplicity had angered her into giving Fate the added protection of keeping him at bay.
Fate wearily climbed the steps to her room, worry and fatigue forcing her to rest to gather her strength. As she passed Cara’s bedroom, she heard her daughter’s laughter and a male groan in response. Smiling, Fate continued to her room, softly closing the door behind her.
Dismissing her waiting servants, she removed her gown then took a relaxing bath in private before sliding between the silk sheets of her bed.
There was no laughter in her rooms, no male presence, no one to lighten the burden she carried on her shoulders of not only her daughters’ lives but of billions of others. Loneliness filled her chest, and tears she no longer knew how to shed filled her eyes as she turned on her side to gaze outside her balcony doors to the sky that waited once again for her attention. Always waiting…
Chapter 5
Broni danced on the stage, thinking vengefully that she hoped her enemies would find her. Dee and Layla danced beside her tonight as the men yelled vulgarities at them.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t lift her sword to save not one in the room. Well, except for Dee, Nikki, and Becca. Maybe Layla. Then the woman threw her a hate-filled look and Broni crossed her off the short list of those she would try to save. She hoped whoever was after her would deal with Layla first, then Tank. It was a close tie for who she despised most.
Rhys staggered drunkenly to the stage. She had known she had seared open his pain today, but that didn’t ease the agony in her gut when he motioned Layla to him.
Layla jumped off the stage into his arms, winding her legs around his hips. He carried her out of the clubroom towards his bedroom while Broni continued dancing, refusing to acknowledge the men.
It was over an hour before Layla and Rhys returned to the room. He took his seat at the back table while Layla went to the bar and started serving drinks. Her heart heavy, Broni wished she didn’t care the two had just had sex as her legs trembled with fatigue.
“Adam said that’s enough for the night,” Mason said from the side of the stage.
Broni leaned down, picking up her clothes. She dressed before climbing down from the stage, determined to go to the room she shared with Rhys. As she walked between the tables, Tank reached out, jerking her down onto his lap.
“Why did you get dressed again?” His hands went to the bottom of her t-shirt, jerking it off.
Broni struggled against him, feeling his cock underneath her wiggling body.
“Keep that up, and I’ll come in my jeans,” he groaned in her ear.
Before she could stop herself, she elbowed him in his stomach. His hand went to her hair, jerking it back before slamming her head onto the table. Broni was stunned at the brutality of the man’s actions, unable to fight back when he roughly grabbed one of her breasts, pinching her nipple cruelly.
“Let her go,” Rhys spoke above the laughter of Tank’s friends sitting at the table.
“Fuck off, Rhys. You’re not in charge. Why should you be allowed to be the only one to fuck her? You’ve had her and Layla, too. Dee’s with Jace tonight and Becca is fucking Mason. There’s nothing left.”
“If you hadn’t put Nikki out of commission, you would have her. Layla’s not tired; she’s good for another round.”
“Bastard!” Layla screamed from across the room.
“Adam doesn’t want her touched until tomorrow. If you want her that bad, buy her. Then she can be yours anytime you want her.”
Broni gaped at Rhys. She didn’t want the bastard to have control over her.
Tank pinched her breast tighter. “Okay, but I’m going to take a taste to do me until tomorrow night.” His huge hand jerked her head back again.
This time his mouth covered hers, his rank breath making Broni want to vomit, but she held it back, refusing entrance to his vile tongue. However, he bit at her lips until she helplessly opened them to his thick tongue. She started to have a hard time trying to still her rolling stomach. Just as she was sure she couldn’t hold it back any longer, he raised his head, and Broni tore herself off his lap.
She tried to move towards Rhys, but the biker sitting next to Tank jerked her back down onto his lap, pawing her breasts as he took her mouth in another disgusting kiss. Broni struggled against him, and he raised his head, laughing at her furious face, passing her to the biker sitting next to him. This time, she didn’t struggle against the mouth pressed down onto hers, only wincing slightly when her mouth was searched by another man whose mouth tasted like beer and sweat.
Thankfully the last one at the table released her, letting her get to her feet by Rhys. He held out her t-shirt and she yanked it from his grasp, tugging it over her sore breasts. Forcing back her humiliation as she gave both Rhys and Adam disgusted looks, she left the clubroom going to Rhys’s room.
She went in, slamming the door closed behind her, the already miserable night made worse when she was confronted with the stifling s
mell of alcohol and sex. The tumbled bed spoke volumes about the lust that Rhys and Layla had shared a short time ago.
Broni lost what temper she had left. Storming to the bed in a fit of temper, she jerked off the dirty sheets and blankets before wadding them together. Going to the door, she opened it and threw the bundle out into the hallway.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Rhys asked, stopping to pick up the dirty sheets and blanket.
“Getting rid of the odor you and your whore left in the room,” Broni said in a deceptively calm voice.
“If you don’t want to sleep on them, then sleep on the fucking floor or go wash them. I’m sure Tank will be thrilled to see you again.” Rhys threw the dirty laundry down onto the only chair in the room.
“Why don’t you go wash your own dirty laundry? You’re the one that got them filthy,” Broni snapped.
“Jealous?” he questioned. “What’s wrong, Broni? Are you upset I picked Layla to fuck? Don’t worry; after tomorrow, I’m sure whoever buys you will share. I give it a week before you’re begging for my dick.” Rhys’s cruel words were like a smack in her face. She turned, giving him her back.
“I’m tired. I want to go to sleep. Unlike you, I haven’t slept the better part of the day.” Silence met her quiet words before Broni heard the door open and close.
She went into the shower, taking a clean t-shirt and panties with her. She washed her hair and body, seeing that the tips of her breasts were bruised. She dried off after her shower then went to the sink to brush her teeth, rinsing the taste of the bikers out her mouth.
Dressed in her t-shirt, she went back into the bedroom to find Rhys lying on the bed. The mattress had a clean sheet and blanket on it. The dirty ones were still on the chair, so Broni knew at least he hadn’t put those back on while she had been showering.
Broni walked barefoot across the room, turned out the light, and climbed onto the bed, her back to Rhys. She stayed as close to the edge as possible, not touching the man.
Neither spoke in the stiff silence. Gradually, Broni was exhausted enough to drift off. She tossed and turned throughout the night, unable to get comfortable. Unconsciously, she slung out her leg and a loud yell half woke her until a pair of strong arms pinned her to the mattress. She often had nightmares about those last few moments in the Hallway of Death.
Broni woke in the morning with Rhys’s heavy weight lying on top of her. For a split second, she lay underneath him, enjoying the warmth of his body on hers. Regretfully, she carefully slid out from underneath him. Dee would be coming to wake her soon, and Broni didn’t want to wake Rhys since there was something she needed to do before the men woke. Broni feared the troubled dreams that had kept her awake most of the night had been a warning that danger was drawing nearer.
She dressed quietly, and when the knock came at the door, she turned to leave with a last glance at Rhys to make sure he was still sleeping. Quietly, she went to his side of the bed. Reaching down, she brushed away the tracks his tears had made, her heart melting. She hadn’t been the only one who hadn’t slept well.
Chapter 6
Rhys rolled over, his hand searching for the warmth of the woman lying next to him. He stiffened when his hand found only the cool material of the sheet. He jerked his hand back as if it had been burned, angry at himself for becoming used to the feel of her next to him after only a few nights.
He got to his feet, grabbing his head as pain burst in his skull. His rolling stomach didn’t help, either. Rhys barely made it to the bathroom in time, vomiting in the toilet. Flushing the contents, he turned to face himself in the bathroom mirror. Pushing back the disgust at himself, he washed his face in the sink. Drying his face, he reached out for his toothbrush that was sitting next to a bright pink one. The sight sickened him. Throwing it in the trashcan, he then brushed his teeth, placing it back on the sink.
He dressed, dreading the coming evening. When his head finally felt clearer, he went into the clubroom where Layla waved at him, bringing him a cup of coffee and toast. He forced himself to eat the toast, his stomach gradually settling.
He almost asked for a bottle, but for the first time in months, he didn’t start the day with a drink of bourbon. Drinking the scalding hot coffee instead, he let his eyes roam the clubroom, telling himself he wasn’t searching for Broni.
He saw her giving Mason a beer, and as she turned to leave, the biker ran his hand over her ass. Broni glared back at the man’s action before going back behind the bar.
The woman would do better if she came to accept her position as another club whore. If not, he saw a painful future ahead of her. They always broke sooner or later, regardless of how strong they started out. Broni was stronger than the others, yet she would become broken just like the ones that had come to accept their place in the club.
He watched Nikki move chairs to the tables. Her black eye and obvious bruises around her throat had him furious. He had enjoyed her many times, and she was always willing to please, so there was no excuse for Tank’s treatment of the woman. Rhys’s eyes met Adam’s, seeing the same expression on his face that he was sure was on his own.
Tank was going to have to be dealt with. Adam had tried to keep the man under control because it would be a brutal fight between the two. Plus, if Tank’s friends joined into the fight, Adam could not only lose control of the club but his life.
Adam met his eyes and Rhys knew what Adam was silently asking. Rhys nodded his head that he would stand by him and fight if necessary. Hell, what did he have to lose? His life? He had been throwing that away for years, it wasn’t worth one of the bruises on Nikki’s face.
The afternoon dragged by as the Dark Highwaymen slowly came in throughout the day, waiting for the auction that would take place at nightfall.
It didn’t take long for Layla to turn on the music before climbing onto the bar, high from the coke she had just snorted, her bare feet swiping through the remains on the counter. She lifted her foot, letting Tank suck her toes into his mouth, and laughter burst out in the overfilled clubhouse. When Tank released her foot, she turned, shaking her ass to the beat of the music. Several men reached out to pat her ass as she danced.
Broni was behind the bar, and Rhys’s hand clenched on his cup as Tank jumped over the bar, grabbing Broni and tossing her over his shoulder. Her hands slapped against his back as he carried her across the room to the stage, setting her on the edge of it. Rhys saw the large biker say something to her before reaching out to rip off her top.
She jumped to her feet, moving away from Tank, and began to dance to the music. Her perky breasts jutted out and his cock hardened in his jeans. Rhys had to adjust himself as he watched her innocent, sensual movements. If they didn’t start the auction soon, he would have to take one of the women back to his room to relieve the lust that had his cock strangled in his jeans. There wasn’t another clean sheet in the clubhouse, and he was in no mood to watch Broni turn her nose up at the evidence he had fucked someone in the bed they shared.
As it began to get dark, the men started filling up the tables throughout the room. Jace went to the back room, coming back with a notebook, which was filled with the total points each brother had accumulated for doing jobs for the club. Some jobs earned more points than others. A dangerous drug run, dealing with the cartels, could earn as much as a hundred points. Killing an enemy of the club could earn as many as five hundred. Jail time for the club was the one that earned the most, though.
The points were used in lieu of money during the auctions to buy the rewards they wanted. It was a fair system. Adam had worked it out, giving the brothers that deserved it a reward for doing a good job while the lazy shits got what they deserved—nothing.
The auctions took place once a month. On the stage were several expensive computers, which would be bought for low points then sold for cash. There were also several guns that the brothers were salivating over to add to their collection, jewelry, a bike from a brother that had been gunned down during their las
t deal, and Broni standing half-naked, yet to be fucked by anyone in the club.
The biker that purchased her could do what he wanted with her. Usually, they used them until they tired of them and then sold them to the other brothers until they became bored. Once the newness wore off, they inevitably became another club whore to be passed around for anyone’s use, regardless of their feelings.
Rhys secretly admired her misguided confidence in herself. If Tank succeeded in buying her, however, she would be broken. The stubborn, beautiful woman he was staring at would be gone.
The bidding began with the computers. Skip managed to snag those with the few points he had earned. The jewelry and other small items went next to different brothers, buying whichever item caught their eye. The points started going higher when the guns went up for bid. Jace and Rucker each managed to score one. Then the motorcycle went up next.
Rhys noticed that Tank hadn’t bid on any of the items, hoarding his points determined to buy Broni. His face in the front row would have been hard to look down on, but Rhys saw that she never lowered her gaze; instead staring at the back wall and ignoring the auction going on around her.
After Adam bought the motorcycle, Broni came up for bid.
Tank bid one hundred points. Jace and then Mason bid. The bids went high quick, up to a thousand points from different brothers spread around the clubroom. Tank bid two thousand, stating that he and Buck had pooled their points. No one would have the points to beat him because the men had the auctions monthly, and no one really made the effort to accumulate a great number of points.
When Mason and Adam both bid, combining their points, Rhys was certain Adam was trying to keep Tank from owning Broni. It went back and forth, the bidding becoming higher than Rhys had ever known it to get. Tank had the last bid at fifteen thousand. From the expression on Adam and Mason’s faces, they were at their limit.
“Going once, going twice…” Dee’s voice hesitated.