Page 1 of Primal Urges (Bikers of Mayhem #1)

LUCAS

T he sound of Lucas’s heartbeat thumping in his ears was the only sound that filled the space around him.

It had taken on a life of its own.

It was a warning.

A monster.

An omen sent to warn him that what he was about to do was not a wise idea.

The room was silent.

There was no humming from the air conditioner that sat perched in their window.

Normally, the sound was soothing. A reminder that he was not alone in all of this. There was hope. A break from the intense heat that usually plagued the room.

But not tonight.

Tonight, even the air conditioner remained silent. Another sign that perhaps he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

His heartbeat kicked up a notch.

He turned toward the bedroom window.

Even the world around him appeared to have abandoned him.

There was no honking or yelling or screeching from the midnight traffic outside. It was as if the entire world around him had gone silent, quietly slipping away while he wasn’t looking, leaving him alone to battle his demon.

Yes, the universe somehow sensed that tonight, something dark and sinister was about to unfold.

Outside, the stars appeared to have lost their brightness, opting instead to dull their lights and turn their faces away from the third-floor walk-up, the setting for tonight’s suspenseful thriller.

Lucas swallowed hard as he sat in the darkness… waiting.

He tried to control his breathing, hoping that his courage would not fail him as it had so many times before.

He hated himself for being so weak. He cursed his parents for not raising him to be a tougher man. If they had taught him to stand up for himself and be brave, perhaps he wouldn’t be in this mess.

But that was merely something that people in his situation told themselves, no doubt hoping to regain some of the dignity they had lost over the years.

Lucas was weak. And he knew it.

Today alone, he’d changed his mind at least seven times.

Always so weak . He hated himself.

Sitting on the floor, with his knees pulled tight against his chest, he hoped that this time he’d have the courage to do what needed to be done.

He knew that he would never be happy again. He’d resigned himself to that sad truth.

Love was a myth—a cruel joke that some romance author decided to play on a naive and unsuspecting world.

When one really thought about it, love was the cause of so many tragedies. Murder-suicides, broken hearts, even… domestic abuse.

That last one was strange in theory. When someone loves someone, why would they feel the need to hurt that person? But if you ever ask an abuser why they beat or abused their partners, they will always say that they did it because they loved them.

Was it true love? Or just a desire to maintain control?

As he said, “love” was the cause of so many tragedies.

Lucas knew that his outlook on love was grim, but in retrospect, how many atrocities had been committed in the name of love?

The bedroom door swung open, momentarily blinding him as the light from the hallway assaulted his eyes.

Lucas jumped, startled as the door slammed against the wall.

He must have heard that sound a thousand times, yet each time, it was just as terrifying as the first. It wasn’t the sound he feared, per se, but rather what came next.

Him.

Stumbling into the bedroom, breath smelling like cheap whiskey, his once knight in shining armor reached for the door and steadied himself.

“There ya are, you fuckin’ prick.”

Lucas didn’t look up. Instead, he pulled his knees closer to his chest and began counting the seconds until he would receive his first blow. It was always to the cheek.

For some reason, that appeared to be Darryl’s signature move. One strong blow to the face, followed by a tug on his arm to pull him to his feet.

Right on cue, the first of many stars flashed across Lucas’s eyes as his boyfriend’s knuckles greeted his cheekbone.

Lucas fell to the side. Given that he was already huddled on the floor, his body didn’t have far to travel.

A large, meaty paw grabbed hold of Lucas’s once-soft skin, tightening his grip before yanking him to his feet.

“Why you been hidin’?” the man he had come to loathe snarled before tossing Lucas’s body across the room as if he weighed nothing.

His body struck the bed before bouncing off and landing on the hardwood floor—the site of countless scraped knees and sore jaws.

No. Those were not the pains one enjoyed in the throes of passion; those were the pains one suffered when they allowed a monster into their bedroom.

“Come here. Give me those pretty lips,” Darryl slurred once again, this time using his free hand to tug Lucas’s face toward his manhood.

There had been a period… once upon a time, when Lucas found all this aggression a massive turn-on. But there was a fine line between macho aggression in the bedroom and full-fledged drunken domestic violence.

This, right here, was the latter.

Lucas struggled against Darryl’s pull, knowing that he only had to fight him off for just a few more minutes… hopefully .

The sleeping pills he had dumped into his boyfriend’s bottle of whiskey should have kicked in by now. He had used triple the recommended dosage, taking into account the massive size of Darryl’s body and the hope that the drugs would knock him out as quickly as possible.

Having a boyfriend who was six foot four was hot in theory, but not when that massive body was being used against you… to hurt you, intimidate you, and even prevent you from leaving. Kind of like tonight.

He knew the only way he could ever escape Darryl’s clutches was to vanish into the night while the man was unconscious. Thus, the sleeping pills.

While Lucas might hate the man’s guts, he also didn’t want to kill the abusive bastard.

Cold, wet liquid splashed against Lucas’s cheek as Darryl lifted the bottle to his lips to take another heaving sip.

Drink. Drink up, you fucking bastard. I hope that you pass out and smash your goddamn face against that hideous dresser that you bought from one of your fucked-up friends .

He watched as the bottle slowly slipped from his boyfriend’s fingers. Lucas smiled. Darryl took an uneasy step backward, nearly losing his balance in the process.

“Wow. That was a trippy… bastar…” Darryl placed his hand on the mattress, attempting to steady himself and regain his commanding position over Lucas’s body.

“Come. Boy. Suck my di…”

The words died on his lips.

A second later, Darryl’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his giant body came crashing to the floor.

A moment of panic filled Lucas’s chest.

What if he really did kill the poor bastard?

No. Evil doesn’t die that easily.

It was going to take a lot more than a handful of sleeping pills to end that piece of shit’s life.

No. Tonight was about knocking Darryl out long enough for him to grab his packed bag from the linen closet and disappear into the night.

With Darryl being who he was, this was the only way that Lucas could escape.

Well, there was another way, but there was no way in hell he was going down that path.

Holding his breath, Lucas leaned over Darryl’s body to see if he could feel any breath against his cheek.

Yup. As suspected, the bastard was still alive.

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Gathering all of his courage, Lucas jumped to his feet and ran into the hallway to grab the go bag he had packed earlier in the day. Just a few necessities—some cash, some clothing, his passport—he really wasn’t sure where he was running to.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, all he could hear was the racing beat of his heart in his ears.

This was it. He was finally doing it.

He’s going to be so pissed when he wakes up.

Swallowing the lump of fear, Lucas pulled his duffel bag from the linen closet and ran toward the apartment door.

Go! Don’t think about it! Just run! It’s now or never! Lucas shouted at himself in his head.

He snatched his wallet off the kitchen counter, then shoved his feet into his steel-toed boots.

His heart was pounding so hard; he was amazed that the neighbors hadn’t called to complain.

This was it. There was no turning back now. He needed to get the fuck out while he still had the chance… and the courage.

As he pulled open the apartment door, he stole a final glance over his shoulder and gazed at the life he had once thought he wanted.

How had he been so wrong?

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the hallway and took off like a bat out of hell.

He would continue to run for the next few days. He needed to get as far away from Los Angeles as humanly possible.

He needed to disappear.

Someplace safe.

Someplace where no one knew him.