Marnie
Trapped. The screams of Marnie’s crew rang in her ears even though they’d fallen ominously silent. Twenty bikes roared and circled, growing ever closer with each rotation.
The colors were instantly recognizable. The Steel Horsemen were an outlaw motorcycle club and Marnie’s crew were passing through their territory. Her mother told her that the Horsemen were intent on chaos and death; unlike the others they couldn’t be bargained with, or reasoned with. The only language the Horsemen understood was force and blood.
It was a road detour. It’s not like it was their fault and they were only just over the border, twenty minutes and they’d have been out.
Marnie was dead already, the final blow simply hadn’t come yet.
The bikers dismounted and surrounded her, closing in and pulling their helmets off to reveal scared sneering faces.
One leather-clad bastard pulled off his helmet and came closer, revealing a shock of white hair. The patches on his vest showed that he was an enforcer and the scars on his hands and face left no room for doubt that he took his job very seriously.
He circled her slowly, heavy boots echoing in on the asphalt. Looking her up and down and licking his thin lips he came to an abrupt stop and tipped his head to the side as he looked down at her.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the prize daughter of the Fallen Boys M.C. President.” His voice was quiet and filled with cool amusement. “I’d only seen you in pictures before. On your bike, tending bar, hangin’ with your girls."
Her eyes got wide and an ice cold shiver shot down her spine. Marnie shouldn’t be surprised they were having them watched but the idea of being secretly photographed made her feel sick.
“They don’t do you justice, sweet-thing.” He sank his teeth into his bottom lip and dragged his gaze down over her hip-hugger jeans, white singlet, and black leather jacket. His leering stare paused on her small breasts and where she was sure the red lace bra was peeking out. He made a growling sound in his throat that made her want to throw up.
Marnie swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. She forced a breathless laugh and smirked up at him, hoping he couldn't see the fear sweat pricking around her eyes.
"Well here I am. One woman all alone and half your fucking size and yet you needed twenty of your boys to even have to balls to talk to me?” she looked him in the eye. "Scared of something?"
He returned her smirk, an evil glint in his eyes. "Oh, Marnie, I am not the one who needs to be afraid."
His words were simple but the inclination made her shiver and she wrapped her arms around herself, keeping her gaze locked on his. All she could do was watch, reigning in her fear tight, as he covered the space between them in three long strides. He waged one long gloved finger from side to side making a tut-tut sound.
Leaning down he turned her face roughly to the side and hissed into her ear. "Since I get first fuck, I will be sure to send my thanks and a detailed description of your quick eager surrender to your father."
The sound of guffawing laughter coming from the surrounding men made her blood boil. "Then get on with it," she spat. "From what I've heard, it won't take long."
A single bark of laughter sounded behind her and his eyes glittered dangerously. With a growl, he backhanded her across the face, the force of the blow making her head spin.
Before she had time to catch her breath he gripped her chin again and forced her to look at him. His lips curled as his free hand covered her breast and squeezed roughly enough to make her cry out.
"Trust me, my soon-to-be T-devil whore, I can make even a few short minutes seem like hours." He released her breast and reached into his jacket, pulling out a long, jagged looking knife.
Just looking at the blade made Marnie tremble.
It looked sharp and thick and curved upwards like a fish-gutting knife, but it was the wicked looking jags that made