Page 7 of Her Feral Biker (Savage Kings MC #6)

ANNALISE

Gravel bit into my knees where I knelt in the parking lot behind the row of shops. I never knew the light was out at the back. Now, staring back at Prinze Kola as he watched me with the slightest smile on his too-perfect face, that lack of knowledge seemed like the grossest oversight.

Horrible breath washed over my face from the man behind me who held my pony tail in a twisted grip.

He forced my head back at an uncomfortable angle so I had to look up at Prinze.

It was either that, or bow my back. Neither was a sustainable position, but I didn’t think that mattered to either one of them.

From the gun Prinze held loosely at his side, I doubted that in a few minutes it would matter much to me, either.

“I thought you were going to burn the building down.” I blinked at my own audacity as the words slipped from between my lips. “Not kidnap or shoot me.”

Prinze stared down at me, his dead, dark eyes at total odds to the amused smile playing around the bottom half of his face, like a mix and match doll with parts that didn’t belong together at all.

“Is that what you’d prefer? I hear you like being tied up.

Perhaps we can arrange a show.” He pulled out the envelope I’d pinned to my door free from his jacket pocket and tossed it to the ground.

It skittered across the gravel in a dirty mess to land before my knees. I shifted and the gravel that felt like cut glass bit deeper into my skin. Pain hissed between my teeth before I could prevent the reaction, but I refused to give him any other form of satisfaction.

That he might have read what I’d written for Lake left me nauseated. Those words weren’t for anyone else to see. I’d had hard enough trouble putting pen to paper for the man I was fast falling for—had already fallen for, if I was honest with myself. Not that any of that mattered right now.

Because Lake wasn’t here, and only Prinze stood before me.

The gun tapped his leg in an irregular rhythm. “Mmhm. Perhaps if you don't talk to me, we should give the boys a little show? Now that I know what you like, of course. We could play out your preferred scenario right here.”

I stared up at him, sickened. Please don’t touch me. Not you, not you, not you.

“Fuck you.”

The shakes that had started when he first walked into my shop and I thought it was Lake took over again.

I'd run, then, while he laughed. Laughed as he set his men on me, chased me through the kitchen and out the back.

Past the bins where one of them grabbed my arm and tossed me against the back wall.

My face became acquainted with the brick quite intimately shortly after, and I didn’t have the ability to fight back as my vision swam when someone reversed my sense of gravity moments later.

Gravel was my new worst best friend. If I was ever allowed to stand again, I’d be picking pieces out of my hands and knees for a week.

If.

But I doubted he’d let me leave this parking lot anyway.

Prinze’s mocking smile did nothing to alleviate my pulsating fear. I tugged my head forward, trying to release the building pressure in my neck, but the grip in my hair tightened.

The mafia prince bent over me. “Did you think you could say no to me so many times, and not be punished, sweet thing?” The cold metal of his gun traced along the curve of my cheek.

“Did you think that if you refused to sell to me like your father wanted, that you would be able to walk away unscathed?”

I stared up at him, uncomprehending. “What?” His words rang between my ears, making plenty of noise but far less sense.

“You see, when I’m promised something—say, money, or a business, or property, I tend to expect to get what I’m owed. And when I don’t get that, then I get upset. Don’t I?” He didn't look at the men behind me, or the man holding my hair. His eyes bore into mine, unblinking like a predator.

But all I saw was a spoiled rich boy having a tantrum.

A very dangerous tantrum where everything I valued would be destroyed.

“Why would you make a deal with my father?” I croaked. “Why would you want my business ?”

Prinze Kola smiled, his lips thin and colorless.

“I don’t care about your pathetic little clothing shop, Miss Hampton.

I care about this entire street. Right now, I possess nearly half of it.

But the owners of the businesses along this part?

It’s becoming quite hard to buy them out.

Perhaps they need a little…encouragement.

Maybe seeing you run off the land in terror might motivate them, yes?

And your father’s values seem to align nicely.

He also wants you to not own a business.

Feels your independence hinders family growth or some such other selfish need.

” He flicked a hand sideways. “But it’s your business I’m interested in.

Will your neighbors be amenable if I force you out? ”

“I don’t think they’ll care about what happens to me,” I choked, finally forcing my head forward enough to breathe as my head spun with his words.

“I barely speak to them. You’ll have to do better than that,” I challenged, knowing my neighbors were as set in their beliefs about their businesses as me.

Locking away the information about my father for the moment, I focused on what else he said.

They’d hated it when I first bought in the street, but even though I still didn’t quite fit in, we weren’t exactly enemies.

Prinze shrugged. “Then I’ll burn it. All of it.”

I stared. “If you can't have it, no one will?” The cuts in my knees burned. Something warm trickled along my shin. I shifted again in the gravel but that only made the pain worse.

Prinze tapped the gun against my temple. “I can rebuild, sweet thing. Can you?”

I closed my eyes. He knew I couldn't. None of us would be able to afford that.

He laughed softly above me. “I didn’t think so. Is that your answer? You won’t sell, so I ruin everything you have in order to buy it when you have to sell it later anyway? How…horrifying.”

I opened my mouth to say something else stupid, knowing my time was just about up.

He’d kill me anyway and probably dump in my own burning building.

Prinze Kola had never been shy about his intentions and sometime in the last hour or so, my mind accepted that this night would be the last one I'd have on this earth. My mouth, however, decided that if we were going to hell, we’d have plenty of things to say before we went.

My head dropped forward abruptly as the man holding my hair released the pressure completely.

I nearly face planted in the gravel, catching myself at the last moment on already bruised palms. Grit bit into my skin but I didn’t care, gasping in precious air that had been restricted for too long.

Pain radiated through my neck and spine but the relief of being able to arch my body in the other direction was a singular pleasure.

I’d take it, even if he only allowed it for a moment.

Above me, Prinze cursed fluently in his own language.

A shot went off, then another. Something hot and wet splattered my back.

I yelped, flattening myself to the gravel that I’d just tried to prevent myself from falling into and cowered, covering my head with my hands.

Pain bit into me at the sounds of scuffling.

Grunts seemed to come from all sides. Someone stepped on my leg, and another body tripped on me.

I peered up cautiously, and found myself face to face with one of Prinze’s muscle men—only this one stared back at me unblinkingly.

His eyes were open and fixed. Blood streaked his pale face.

I scrambled back from his death mask, shoving myself backward until I ran into a hard surface. Then I looked up.

And up.

Right into Lake’s hard face.

Blood covered his arms and most of his ink, splattered across his face and beard. And dark fluid dripped from the pair of sharp, slightly curved blades he held at his sides as he stared down at me.

“Princess.” He sheathed the blades, bending to slide his hands beneath my arms and lifted me to his chest. “He hurt you.”

It wasn't a question, and so I didn’t answer it as one. Instead, I pressed my cheek to his chest, seeking the warmth of him.

“You came.”

Lake let out a harsh sound, halfway between a hiss and a growl.

“I never meant to leave you, princess. Just went for a ride to clear my head. I should have come straight to you. Though you needed— Fuck. It doesn’t matter what I thought.

” His large hand curved around my cheek.

His fingers laced through my hair as he cupped my head and crushed me to his chest. “Tell me where you’re hurt. ”

“I’m okay.” And surprisingly, I was. I was cold, and suspected I was covered in someone else’s blood, but now that Lake was here, I was alright. Mostly. Okay, that last bit was a lie. But I’d figure it out, as long as I wasn’t alone anytime soon. “Don’t let go?”

“Princess—” Lake’s arms tightened around me as I shook, then I realized it wasn’t me who was shaking.

It was him.

I frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice seemed distant as he released me and stepped back. “I’m not the safest person to be around right now.”

“You alright, Titan?” A man I didn’t know but had seen with Lake before approached us cautiously.

I remembered from my research on motorcycle clubs that the members had other names, and that Lake had started to introduce himself to me as something else that first night, then changed his mind, given me his other name.

I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

But he stepped back, away from me, and his hands dropped to his sides.

I dropped mine too, and looked around for the first time.

Men bearing the same insignia on their vests and jackets as Lake milled around the parking lot. Three bodies were laid out around us. I wrapped my arms around myself, looking at faces, and hated that I had to count.

“I’m good.” Lake drew my attention as he stared at the newcomer.

“Are you sure? I can take her home.” The man watched Lake—Titan—cautiously.

“I can’t go home.” They both turned to stare at me.

I shrugged. “Prinze, the mafia boy.” —I stole one of Lake’s term’s, though I couldn’t smile about it tonight— “He said that my father paid him to ruin my business, to buy it from me. I– I’m not sure why.

But Prinze was going to kill me. I can’t go back there. That’s not my home.”

The new man nodded slowly. “Alright. Where do you want to go?”

I opened my mouth, but it was Lake who answered.

“I’ll take her back to the clubhouse for tonight.

” The other King looked like he might object, but Lake cut him off.

“Have you got a better idea? She has no home, and she can’t stay here.

Kola walked away. Ran, actually.” His gaze slid to me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t kill him for you. The other three are dead.

I have a place where you can stay, if you’ll take it.

But it comes with conditions.” He shrugged off his jacket and held it out. “The first one is that you wear this.”

The other man looked like he might still object, but I waved him down, barely able to hold my torn dress together. I looked up into Lake’s eyes, unreadable in the darkness.

“I’ll take it.”