Page 19 of Wild Night (Vicious Reapers MC #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

POSEY

The winery is suspiciously empty as the car careens down the dirt drive. I’m not sure why I expect him to drive up to the tasting room. He doesn’t. He makes his way toward the wine cellar. I’ve only been down there a few times. It wasn’t really part of my job to frequent the large space.

When he stops at the small entrance, Lucian doesn’t even look over at me. Instead, he opens the car door, unfolds from his fancy sedan, then jogs around the front of the car, his gaze pinned on mine and never leaving.

There is no running from him here, and at the same time, I’m afraid that if I go down into that cellar, I will never see the light of day again.

When he opens the door, I reluctantly step out of the car, my entire body trembling as my face aches.

I honestly don’t think I have ever been this terrified in my life.

What the hell did I get myself into?

Lucian grabs my arm again, no doubt leaving a new set of bruises before he drags me behind him. He’s holding on too tightly for me to get away. I know I won’t be able to break free, not unless he gets distracted.

Without speaking, he wrenches the cellar door open. It’s a heavy, solid antique mahogany double door that I was able to snag for the winery for twenty-four thousand dollars. It’s absolutely stunning and fits the style of the rustic yet elegant venue.

Now I am cursing that door because there is no way in fuck I’m going to be able to break out of here unheard—even if I could sneak away unseen.

Lucian pushes me down the stone steps, and my legs start moving so quickly that I almost lose my balance completely and fall. It might be a blessing if I died falling down these steps, but I catch myself by gripping the solid mahogany handrailing.

There are voices in the distance, and I can only hope that one of those voices is going to save me instead of sacrifice me. We move closer and closer and only stop when Lucian curls his fingers in the back of my hair, wrenching me backward.

Closing my eyes, I fight the urge to cry out in pain. I don’t want to give this asshole any satisfaction. Then, as I’m trying to keep from making a noise, I feel him lean closer to me, his lips on the shell of my ear.

“I should have fucked you one more time before I killed you. I have to admit, your cunt was always good.”

Clenching my teeth, I gnash them together, closing my eyes and holding on to my composure by just a single fucking thread. What an asshole . A complete fucking asshole.

“What the fuck?” a familiar voice barks.

When I open my eyes, I come face to face with the owner of the winery.

His name is Montague Castellan, but everyone who works for him affectionately calls him Monty.

I don’t know him well. I’ve only really seen him in passing.

He’s a busy man with things to do… apparently, things that include whatever it is Lucian is involved in.

“I was going to just kill the bitch, but something told me an audience for that would be better,” Lucian says, his last words ending in a sneer.

God, what a complete asshole.

Monty widens his stance, crossing his arms over his chest as he tips his chin slightly and looks down at Lucian. He doesn’t look at me, although I can feel he is very aware of exactly where I am and that Lucian has a tight grip on me.

“What do you want?” Monty asks.

“Everything,” Lucian hisses. “I want it all, or I’m going to the Feds with everything I know.”

Monty snorts as if he finds this boring and hilarious at the same time. I don’t know how to describe it, but I do know that whatever he’s showing, it’s only surface level. His head is working behind those eyes of his, and he is not going to do anything that this man wants.

Which I hope means good things for me.

Because I don’t want Lucian to do anything to me, especially not what he wants to do… in any way whatsoever. In fact, I hope that after today, I’ll never have to see him again… ever.

Except I prefer to be breathing and never see him again, not dead the way he wants. Because I’m with Monty. He’s not getting what he wants from me.

“And you’ll tell the Feds what?” Monty asks, sounding rather cocky, which makes me nervous because Lucian’s grip on my hair tightens at the nonchalant tone Monty puts forth.

Lucian growls, then lets out a chuckle behind me before he speaks. “I’m going to tell them about your whole operation. And they’ll believe me because I’m one of them. I’ve been undercover for four years.”

It’s Monty’s turn to laugh, and I decide to stay not only silent but as still as humanly possible because I’m not sure what’s going to happen when Monty lifts his hand and makes a forward motion.

I hold my breath while my eyes widen as I watch five men move behind Monty and stand in similar positions to him, legs spread, but instead of arms crossed, they hang loosely at their sides.

“You aren’t going to do shit, Lucian. Did you think that we didn’t know who and what you were?

” Monty asks. “I clocked you the second you walked in here sniffing around and asking questions. The complete desperation you had about joining us was pathetic. Did you think you could ever truly be part of our organization?” he asks.

Holy.

Shit.

Organization?

What organization?

But before I can even think about asking, not that I would at this point, Monty jerks his chin toward me. “Release my employee, Lucian. I let you have your fun, let you dig your hole, but it’s time you let Posey go.”

“No,” Lucian snaps.

Monty lifts his hand again, making another motion, and that’s when my breath comes out in a whoosh, and that’s because a woman is brought forward, and she seems confused.

At a deeper look, I notice that she’s got mascara staining her cheeks, and she’s been crying.

She’s a pretty girl, probably around my age, but she is clearly as lost as I am in this situation, maybe even more so.

“Let my wife go,” Lucian snaps.

Monty bursts out laughing, like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Meanwhile, my heart stops beating at Lucian’s word. Granted, I know now that we were never legally married, but I didn’t think he was married to someone else.

She’s blonde, thin, and gorgeous. Stunning, really. And scared out of her freaking brains. I know the look because I have no doubt I’m mirroring the exact same expression.

“Oh, this one is your wife?” Monty asks. “Funny, I thought Posey was your wife. I gave you the winery venue as a wedding gift. I watched the ceremony…”

Monty is correct. All those things happened just like he said. Except for the part where I married Lucian. Because obviously, we aren’t really married. He’s calling this gorgeous woman in front of me his wife.

“I married Ranae ten years ago,” Lucian states.

“Honey, what’s happening?”

This poor woman is beyond confused. She’s me. Because I don’t know exactly what’s happening here, either, although I’m starting to understand what’s going on. It’s something illegal.

The Feds were called, and Lucian was undercover. Now, maybe he isn’t so much undercover because Monty knows exactly what he is, and he’s calling him out, which means there is something else working here. I don’t want to know what any of it is, though. I don’t even want to be here.

IVY

Maverick and Goose are loaded onto their bikes. I feel incredibly guilty that they are doing this. I know it’s not completely for me, but at the same time, it feels like that’s what it’s for—me.

Shocker lifts his hand, giving me a single wave as he climbs onto his trike. He bought it a year ago, said it helps with his knees and back. I don’t blame him. It does look comfortable as fuck. I’m not ready to invest in one yet, but I can definitely understand the appeal.

I watch as they take off, one, two, and then three. When they’re out of sight, I turn back toward the clubhouse. Piggy is leaning against the wall next to the door, his eyes on me. “You good?” he asks.

No.

No, I am not good.

I don’t say that, though. Instead, I just jerk my chin in his direction and move toward the door next to him. Before I can pass, I feel his hand touch the center of my chest.

Dipping my chin, I look down at his hand, then follow his arm until my gaze catches his. Arching a brow, I wait for him to explain to me why the fuck he has his hand on the center of my chest.

“Think about this,” he warns.

“About?” I ask.

He shakes his head once as he watches me for a silent moment, then lets out a breath. “You go in there and fuck a whore; what does Posey say or think about that?”

“You think I’m going to fuck a clubwhore?”

Piggy arches a brow but doesn’t speak immediately. “Brother,” he says, then laughs, “you know that’s what you were going to do.”

He’s right. It is. Well, mostly. “Is a blow job fucking?” I ask.

“To her, it will be.”

“You think I’m going to be monogamous?” I know damn well that when it comes to Posey, that’s exactly what I’ll be.

One hundred fucking percent hers.

And she’ll be mine.

That’s if I can get her ass back here… after I spank her for running away and doing something so fucking stupid. I’m going to take my time spanking her, too. Every fucking square inch of her gorgeous ass. Her pussy, too.

All of her.

And then I’m going to fuck her so hard that she will never be able to run away from me again. Every fucking day until the day we die.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” Piggy states. “That girl is your Dakota. There’s no way around it. She’s fucking yours, and you are hers. Whatever the fuck she’s going through, she comes home, and you fucked some whore, how would that look?”

He’s right. I know Posey would be upset if I fucked one of the girls. She had a strong reaction to them and their purpose here at the clubhouse. So, instead of going into the clubhouse and getting completely lost inside of a woman in an effort to de-stress, I turn around and go home.