Page 26 of Scarred Sacrifice (Savage Sisters MC #1)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NYX

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I should have kept my mouth shut.

I could have just sealed my own death, as well as blow the entire mission.

I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ve never said or given away my position since working for Henry.

I worked fucking hard to gain his trust, then fucking Morrigan walks in and it all goes to shit.

I don’t know if they got Henry, and I don’t know if he’s alive, in custody, or dead.

“So, CIA,” Bernie says, perching herself on the bed.

I look at her and nod. “Yeah,” I answer.

“How did you get into that? Family?” she asks.

I frown and shake my head. “No,” I state, not elaborating.

She nods. “You want to know how Morrigan got into this?” she asks.

I look at her, confused as to why she would be willing to divulge this information. “Okay,” I answer sceptically.

“Her mother and me started this back in the 90’s.

We were young, married young, and unfortunately married wrong.

We were beaten, amongst other things,” she says with a sad smile.

“Anyway, we decided enough was enough. Mainly because of Morrigan. Her mother wanted better for her. So we killed our husbands,” she confesses.

My eyes widen and I look at her, stunned that she’s sharing this with me, especially knowing who I work for. “I, fuck.” I pause. “You shouldn’t be telling me this,” I remind her.

She shrugs. “Why? If you are going to arrest Morrigan, then I’m going in with her. I made a promise to her mom that I would always look out for her, and I plan on continuing to do that, even if that means I will be locked up for the rest of my life,” she states firmly.

“I’m not going to report her,” I tell her.

“Ah, that’s good. Tell me about your other operatives that were there. Will they keep quiet too?” she asks, arching her brow.

“How did you know there was more?” I ask.

She smirks, pointing at the lines around her eyes. “See these? These are my creases, my wrinkles; a privilege of growing old. I’ve seen a lot, therefore I know a lot. Like I know when CIA are close to ending their operation, they will make sure there are other agents ready to assist in the sting.”

I go to move my arm, but the metal cuff forces me to stop. The metal clangs against the pipes. “There was only three of us. It was more than a sting to us. It was personal. They won’t be throwing Morrigan under the bus,” I assure her.

Bernie crosses her arms over her chest, her eye assessing me. “Hmmm. Well, we will see. I do think it will be a shame to have to kill the only man Morrigan has ever tolerated,” she adds.

“She tolerates me?” I ask, a chuckle escaping me. “Because I’m pretty sure she hates me,” I add.

Bernie smirks. “Morrigan is fiery, and she doesn’t respond well to water.”

“Water?” I ask, even more confused.

Her grin deepens. “Yes, men that are weak, or wet behind the ears. A man like that is no challenge for her. You, on the other hand, even cuffed to the pipes in her bedroom, challenge her.”

I shake my head. “Look, I can’t deny she’s attractive, but the woman drives me fucking insane.”

She chuckles. “Oh, boy. Listen, I’m going to give you some advice.

This club was made to help, to save women and children.

We do what we can, however we can. The things we’ve seen, the things Morrigan has witnessed at the hands of a man, is extreme.

She has built that barrier around herself so she doesn’t repeat what happened to her mother.

” She sighs sadly, as if reliving the memory of it.

“What happened to her mom?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I will leave that for Morrigan to tell you.”

“So, the advice you’re giving me is…?” I smirk.

“Persistence is key. She will break eventually, I’m sure of it.” She nods before she stands.

“So, be persistent, convince her I won’t report her, and she will let me go?” I ask.

She places her hands on her hips and looks to the ceiling. “Give me strength,” she sighs. “For someone in the CIA, you’re not too bright.” She tuts, shaking her head as she walks towards the door.

“Wait! I thought you were supposed to watch me. I need the bathroom,” I yell after her.

“Morrigan will see to it when she gets back,” she yells over her shoulder before she shuts the door behind her.

I sigh and flop back in the seat.

Eventually, Morrigan came back in. She looked at me with those hard shutters down. She walks towards the table and goes to pick up the glass off of the table. She’s just about to take a sip when I stop her.

“Stop!” She pauses. “That’s not apple juice.” I wince.

She scrunches up her nose in disgust and places it back down. “Fuck! That is disgusting,” she complains, grabbing a napkin and wiping her hands.

“What? You left me cuffed. I’ve been here all night and all morning. I had to go,” I protest.

“You could have asked Bernie,” she points out.

“I did, but she just said to wait for you,” I argue.

She rolls her eyes before she walks to the draw on her bedside table and pulls out a key.

She walks back towards me, leaning over, her body close, the smell of her invading my senses.

She peers down at me through her lashes as she unlocks the cuff.

She stands still, keeping hold of the empty cuff, her eyes on me the entire time as my hand gazes the bare skin of her stomach. I’m enraptured by her.

She gives me a playful grin as a clicking sound breaks the moment. I look down and see that she’s cuffed her wrist in the empty cuff.

“We decided in the meeting that you are not to be trusted, and even though we haven’t come to a final decision on what to do with you yet, this seemed like the best option until we do,” she states.

I slowly and painfully push to my feet, standing in front of her. She makes no attempt to step back as our bodies press close together while I look down on her. “So what? I’m to remain cuffed to you for how long?” I ask.

Her grin deepens, enjoying my misery. “Who knows, but we did decide leaving you cuffed to the pipe was cruel. You pissing in the glass is a reason to back it up.” She grins happily.

“What if I need the bathroom?” I ask.

“I will turn my back to give you privacy.” She nods.

“What if I need a crap?” I counter.

“Then I will cuff you to the towel rail,” she answers.

“What if I want to masturbate?” I press, trying to push her buttons.

“Cuffed or not, you try and do that in my room, I will cut it off,” she bites back.

Man, she riles so easily. “And sleeping arrangements, if this is going to take more than a day?” I ask.

“Then you will sleep next to me, like we did at Henry’s.” She shrugs.

“Fine,” I bite.

“Fine.” She grins.

“I could easily pick you up and carry you out of here and make my escape,” I point out.

I suddenly feel something sharp at my abdomen. I look down to see her pressing a blade to my gut. “And I could easily take your life. Try it and you won’t make it two feet,” she threatens.

I clench my jaw in annoyance. “I guess you’ve thought of everything,” I grit out.

She nods. “Now, strip,” she orders.

I blink. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Remove your clothes. I need to make sure you’re not wearing a wire,” she orders, taking a small step back while keeping the blade aimed at me.

“I’m not wearing a wire,” I defend.

“Don’t believe you,” she bites back.

I exhale. “Fuck it, fine,” I relent, removing my T-shirt and leaving it hanging off our cuffed hands.

I yank on our joined hands to undo my fly, and her fingertips brush along my bare torso as I undo each button.

Her eyes follow the movement as I glide my thumbs under the waistband of my jeans and boxers and yanks them down to mid-thigh.

Standing in front of her completely naked, she blinks, her gaze fixed on my dick.

She clears her throat before looking away.

“Fine, you can cover yourself now.” She gestures for me to pull my boxers and jeans back up.

I do it quickly, leaving the buttons undone. “Now what?” I ask.

She looks up at me. “We wait.”