Page 9

Dante

Rachel, so far, hadn’t said more than a few words to me.

In fact, ever since she had climbed on my bike, she had maintained a radio silence.

Even when I revved the engine – knowing from previous women exactly what the vibrations did to them – she kept her silence.

I toyed with her, revving far more than was necessary, hoping for a gasp, a pant, anything.

Other than the odd stiffening of her body, which could easily have been from the speed, there was no response from her.

I couldn’t tell if that annoyed me or pleased me.

I knew just from looking at her that she was going to be quiet and submissive.

Maybe the odd snarky remark like I had heard earlier.

More to reassure herself she was more than a walking sex doll than any real defiance.

But the complete and utter silence? It was weird.

I had always believed that was exactly what I wanted in an old lady and yet…

it was fucking annoying getting no response from her at all.

I even began wondering if she was all there, if I’m being honest.

She wasn’t showing any signs of being nervous, intimidated, nothing.

Was it even registering with her that I had essentially just kidnapped her, got her fired, and made her homeless?

Where would she go if I decided enough was enough and discarded her?

Was a flicker of emotion out of the realm of possibility?

I had prepared myself for a day or two of hysterics before she settled down into her new life.

It unnerved me to see her so silent, her huge green eyes taking everything in, but never showing a shred of what she was thinking.

She hadn’t even reacted when I told the entire club she belonged to me.

I thought I had seen the smallest of jumps out of the corner of my eye, but I was too preoccupied with the loud-mouth piece of gash to pay attention.

Then, when she hadn’t responded to my brother calling her my old lady, I knew I had been mistaken.

Did she even know what that term meant?

Ahh, fuck it.

I wasn’t looking for a proper partner, anyway. So long as she knew how to suck a dick and was a good mother to Amy, I really didn’t give much of a fuck that she had nothing to say for herself. She was nice to look at, and that would do me.

But that fucking blank stare, man. It was bugging me more than I cared to admit.

I grabbed her arm again and dragged her out of the bar and up the stairs leading to my room.

We lived at the bar, with an entire house behind it.

We had a house in the middle of the village, too, but none of us spent much time there.

In fact, I think the only time Macbeth and I visited was when we had a woman with us, and we wanted a bit of privacy.

Otherwise, we spent all our time here since the bar was open early until late and it’s where most of the club spent their time.

With more force than was needed, I pulled Rachel up the stairs and dragged her down the hallway.

She followed willingly. There was no need for me to be treating her this way.

She didn’t so much as drag her feet. She was half my size and kept up with my stride, even if it meant doing a little jog now and then.

Once again, she showed no emotion, made no noise, and it barely even looked as though she was breathing.

It annoyed me to death. How could she be so blasé about all of this?

As I continued down the hallway to the room my mum had made up for her, I noticed her fiddling around in her handbag, but didn’t pay it much attention.

At least I knew she had the use of her arms. So far, I’d only seen her move her arms to wrap them around me – holding on just as much as necessity demanded, before letting go of me again as though I was poison.

The only other time she had moved was when she was acting as though she was on the fucking catwalk, walking through the pub like a hooker in the red-light district, giving everyone a view of the sexy way her hips moved back and forth.

What annoyed me the most was it didn’t even look as though she was trying to be sexy.

She looked as though she’d had a rare burst of defiance, but sexy wasn’t her goal.

Lord alone knew what she would look like if she were trying.

She ought to pray to whatever deity she believes in that she never let my buddies find out.

There would be hell to pay, and she would be the one paying the ransom.

Not that any of them would touch her now that they knew she was my old lady and not another club whore I had recruited.

But that didn’t stop Rachel from trying, as though one of them would be her saviour from me.

The members of this club were loyal to me, and would tell me in an instant, and she’d be the one on the receiving end of the consequences.

I pushed her through the door to her room and followed after her, pushing my way past her frozen body. I sat on the edge of the bed, noticing that she stayed by the door, her hand still in her bag.

“Do you want to sit?” I asked her, patting the space next to me. She just looked at me with that blank look that was fast becoming the most annoying thing in my life.

I scanned her face, praying there was some sign of emotion, but it was empty.

How the fuck could it be empty? Was she in shock?

It was the only thing I could think of. Most other women would be kicking and screaming at being kidnapped.

They’d be on the verge of fainting if they were locked in a bedroom with their kidnapper.

She had no idea what I had planned for her, and yet she was as calm as she would be if we were taking a romantic stroll on the beach.

In fact, that probably would elicit more emotion from her.

I softened my voice, which annoyed me even more, because I didn’t need to play nice with her, but I also didn’t want to start off on completely the wrong foot.

“So, let me just line things out for you. I’m Dante, as you know.

I live here with my brother and parents.

You’ve met my brother, that was Macbeth back there – his real name is Cole, but he was such a spiteful, jealous bastard growing up, we all called him Macbeth.

It became his club name – you’ll find most everyone here has a club name.

It comes naturally. My dad is Crash - real name, by the way.

My mum is Big Mama. Old ladies don’t usually have club names, but hers was sort of given to her in honour by the rest of the lads.

My dad’s the president, she’s his old lady, and when I take over, they’ll go and live in the main house in the village.

That won’t happen anytime soon, though. My mam likes being the loudmouth behind the bar, knocking heads together when things get too rowdy.

She enjoys it far too much to allow my dad a decent retirement.

” I smiled at her, but there was no response.

“You’ll notice all the men have the club patch on their vest, and if they have a rank, it’ll be there too.

You only really need to know the main men – everyone else you’ll learn with time.

I’ll introduce you to them all tomorrow, rather than overwhelm you with names right now. ”

Nothing

“We’re the main branch of the Devil’s Disciples – you may have heard of us. Most of it is bad, I’m sure. But we’re loyal to those we call our own, and we’ll never do you wrong, so long as you give us the same courtesy.”

Still nothing. Nothing other than that ridiculous fiddling in her bastard bag.

“I have a daughter. She’s five. Her mother died when she was a baby – no, I’m not going into details, so don’t bother asking.

” Unnecessary, as she wasn’t going to ask.

I swear, the bitch wasn’t even blinking.

“She’s called Amy. Thanks for asking,” I muttered the last part under my breath, hating myself for showing my annoyance.

“We all call her Little B – little biker. Or Bee, for short. I don’t think she’d even respond to Amy anymore. ”

Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.

I watched her for a moment, letting her process what I had just said, to see if there was any flicker of recognition as to where this conversation was going.

“Amy needs a mum. And that’s where you come in.

I’ll introduce the two of you in the morning, but all you need to know right now is that, as my old lady, your job will be to raise her.

I don’t believe in nannies or babysitters.

She should be raised by family. And whilst you’re a stranger to her right now, as my old lady, you’ll be a constant in her life from now on.

You do know what an old lady is, don’t you? ”

Nothing.

“Old lady,” I began, getting off the bed and making my way towards her.

She still didn’t move, other than to flick her eyes upwards so she could keep making eye contact with me.

“Means you belong to me. You will cook for me, clean for me, manage the bar, and anything else I deem essential. When I want something, you will be there. I say jump, you say how high. Your life from now on will be making sure mine runs smoothly and keeping your nose out of club business. If I ask for advice, you can give it, otherwise you will be looking after Amy and any other children we have together. Do that well, and we’ll have no issues.

As for the rest of the men – well, respect around here is earned, so you’ll get none from the people down there.

They’ll respect you as mine, but they won’t respect you as a person.

You’ll need to prove yourself first. You’ll do that by keeping me happy.

And I mean happy in every sense of the word, Rachel.

” I warned her, stopping inches away from her.

Still, nothing.