CHAINED: A Motorcycle Club Romance (16 page)

Apparently not. "I suppose we could call the others, see if we can get them brought back to your house?" Bucky suggested, glancing over at Cain.

The man's mouth dropped open, but he didn't even have an answer to that. Looking around the room, he estimated that there were at least two dozen girls here, spread out on the thin cots that filled the room. He didn't have nearly enough beds at his house - and besides, what would he do with them?

Yet with Jenna still leaning up against him, her arms still tightly around him, Cain felt powerless to say no to her. He sighed, looking around the room once more, trying to figure out how to handle this unexpected situation.

"All right, let's call the house," he gave in. "Maybe someone there will still be awake."

As Cain pulled out his phone, Bucky sidled closer to Jenna. "Hey, hon, it's great that we were able to rescue you," he began, but then paused, unsure how to continue.

"Yes?"

"Well..." Bucky traced one toe back and forth, feeling very uncomfortable with this question. "Is there any way that I could get my phone back from you?"

For a moment, the girl looked startled. "Well, I can give it back," she began, hurrying back up the corridor. The rest of her words trailed off as she scurried away, but the meaning behind them became clear when she returned with what was left of Bucky's phone.

The biker looked down sadly at the broken glass screen. "Well, thanks anyway," he finally said, shrugging. "At least it died helping someone."

"Shush!" Cain chided them both. "Cheery's still awake."

Chapter twenty-five

"You want to do WHAT!?" the woman screeched, not caring about how the mostly naked man beside her winced and groaned at her near-shout. "Are you crazy?"

Cheery sat up and tossed off the half sheet that covered her, casting about for a robe of some sort to cover herself up. Not finding anything, she gave up, and chose to stomp almost entirely naked out of her bedroom, glaring daggers and squeezing the phone up against her ear so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"Where the hell are we supposed to put them?" she demanded, stalking down the hall to the living room. "Every couch is already full of passed-out biker, most of them with far too much showing!"

In the living room, her grimace deepened as she glanced around the scene. Just as she'd said, bikers were sprawled out everywhere, some still with their conquests clutched in their arms. One couple even appeared to have passed out on an armchair mid-fuck, both of them fully naked and with a condom still dangling off the man's drooping dick.

Cheery sighed as Cain said something else on the other end. "Goddamn, when did you go and turn into such a Good Samaritan?" she sighed, but the anger was already leeching out of her voice. "It's like I don't even know you anymore."

Cain said something else, and Cheery glanced around at the scattered unconscious men. "Most everyone's already passed out," she said dubiously. "I'll see if I can wake up a few more, maybe find someone with a truck, but you might need to take multiple trips to get them all here."

"Handcuffs?" She glanced about for a second. "Yeah, don't you have a pair of bolt cutters out in the garage? That should take care of them."

Cain said something else, and then Cheery lowered the phone from her ear with a sigh. She put her hands on her bare hips as she looked around the room, and then stalked over to one of the men on the couch, laying on his back with his mouth drooped open.

When she put her foot up on his stomach and pressed down, the man woke up with a strangled gasp, sitting up as his eyes shot wide open. His gaze swung around until it settled on Cheery - where it immediately dropped from her face down to her bare tits, and his look of shock was replaced by a sly grin.

Cheery reached out and smacked that grin off of his face. "Close your damn mouth," she snapped. "How drunk are you?"

The man pondered the question for a minute, and then shrugged. "I'm pretty good, actually," he said. "I'm Fisher, one of the prospects, by the way. I don't think I remember you from last night..."

Fisher let the question trail off, clearly hoping for a name in response, but Cheery just maintained her flat glare. "Well, you've got another job to do," she ordered him. "You drive a vehicle out here?"

"Er, no," the young man responded, wisely deducing from the older whore's unforgiving tone that she wasn't looking for any sort of smart answer.

"Of course not. Did any of the prospects?"

Fisher thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think that Vlad did," he said after a few seconds of deliberation. "He's got that big truck of his that he loves, takes it everywhere. He probably brought it out here, too."

"Great," Cheery said, although her tone didn't budge an inch. "Go find him and wake him up. Get him here if he's sober enough to drive, or get his keys off of him if he isn't. And if you're not back here in under ten minutes, I'm going to rip your balls off before you ever make it to a full member of the Skulls."

From the way that Fisher's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, it was clear that he took that threat to heart. He immediately hurried off, nearly tripping over one of the half-naked girls sprawled out across the floor in his haste.

Well, hopefully that would help the men at this warehouse with the issue of transportation, Cheery figured, but she wasn't out of the woods yet. She still had to figure out somewhere to put all these girls they were bringing back. And from the sound of it, these women wouldn't simply be leaving by the next morning, like most of these idiots.

She stopped for a moment as that thought sank in. If she kicked these girls out, turned them away, she realized, they would have nowhere else to go.

This thought elicited another groan, and Cheery reached up and rubbed her forehead, trying to massage all the way into her tired brain. The night had started off so well, she reflected. Cain seemed ready to fuck her, and a romp with that man always left Cheery feeling tired but utterly, orgasmically fulfilled.

Instead, Cain had run off, Jenna had been kidnapped, and then men in masks blew up her kitchen with a rocket. Cheery had jumped in and helped evacuate everyone from the side of the house closest to the gunfire, and once the shots stopped, the party largely resumed. One of the Iron Skulls even drunkenly propositioned her for the rest of the night, and to his amazement, she agreed - and then rode him until his balls were totally drained.

But even while she'd been moaning and thrashing on top of the man's dick, Cheery's thoughts were still elsewhere, with Cain - and Jenna.

The girl was trouble, that much was clear. But it was also equally clear that Cain had somehow fallen head over heels for her - and she definitely reciprocated those feelings. Cheery had never before seen the older biker in love, but the signs were unmistakable.

Love; Cheery had no problem with love.

She just didn't like all the other messy problems that inevitably followed.

Finally, when better ideas failed to materialize, Cheery gathered up as many extra blankets as she could find and stacked them in a pile. She could drag them out to the barn, she figured, and lay them out there. It definitely wouldn't be four-star accommodations, or even one-star, but it would give these girls a place to lay down without banging their heads - and it would also keep them out of the way of the bikers when the Iron Skulls dragged their hungover asses up the next morning.

Halfway through gathering blankets, Fisher returned, this time dragging a shorter and rather chubby fellow along with him. "Vlad?" Cheery snapped, pointing a finger at the heavier young man before he could speak.

Vlad nodded, almost going cross-eyed with the effort of not gaping at the woman's dangling bare breasts.

Cheery smacked him anyway. "And you're sober enough to not crash into a ditch?"

"I, er, yes." The words came out stammered, but they seemed clear enough.

"Great." Cheery pulled out her phone and displayed the address that Cain had texted to her a few minutes prior. "Get in your truck and get over here. There are a bunch of girls who need to be driven back here. When you return, bring them to the barn."

At the mention of girls, she saw Vlad's eyes jump a little. "And if you lay a single finger on those girls, I'm going to make sure you lose it," Cheery threatened, glaring at them both. She reached behind her and picked up the pair of bolt cutters that she'd grabbed from the barn, waving it under the suddenly wide eyes of both Vlad and Fisher. "Trust me, these things can take off a finger - or a cock - just as easily as they can snip a lock."

She tossed the bolt cutters to Fisher, who fumbled and nearly dropped them. "Bring those out with you. Now get going!"

And both the young men scrambled to obey.

Once she heard the sound of a truck driving away down the gravel road, Cheery returned to getting the barn ready. She wheeled some of the half-disassembled choppers off to one side, and did her best to spread straw from some of the corner piles out evenly across the ground. It wasn't one of her better efforts, she reflected as she stood back with her hands critically on her hips, but it would probably be suitable for tonight.

After tonight, of course, she had no idea what she would do with all these girls.

"Men!" she grunted to herself, complaining out loud to the world around her. "Always rushing into things but never thinking them through! They'd lose their damn dicks if the things weren't attached to them."

Chapter twenty-six

The next hour flew by, full of frantic activity.

When Cain, Talon, and Bucky first roused the girls held captive in the warehouse, most of them still seemed too sleepy and disoriented to disagree with anything. Thanks to those bolt cutters from Cheery, it took next to no time to snip the girls free, and the bikers soon had them bundled up in whatever scratchy blankets and ill-fitting clothing was available and carefully helped into either the back of Vlad's truck, or the back of the van that the kidnappers had been driving. A quick search of Bulldog's pockets had turned up the keys.

Once the caravan had hit the road, however, the girls started to notice that something was wrong - and they announced this realization with sobs and wails that quickly spread throughout the group like contagion.

In the back of the van, Jenna quickly raised her own voice. At first, the other girls quieted and shrank back from her mainly due to her sheer volume and emphasis in her tone, but she, through calm words and sheer mental conviction, managed to calm down most of the panic.

In the rear of the truck, however, Fisher didn't do nearly as good of a job. The younger prospect had chosen to at least ride in the back with the girls to keep them from leaping out in a madcap attempt to escape, but he felt hopelessly lost when they began to wail.

"No, it's okay, you're safe now!" he tried to reassure them, but he couldn't even tell if they could understand his words over the roar of the wind as the truck high-tailed it back towards the Iron Skulls' home.

Fisher tried reaching out to pat the women comfortingly, but this approach was foiled on a couple fronts; first, the girls seemed to mostly be wearing little to no clothing, giving him very few places to offer a comforting pat, and second, Fisher was not used to giving out any sort of comforting touch in the first place. Most of his touches to other people came in the form of swinging fists, not soft pats.

Fortunately, at least, the ride wasn't incredibly long. With a sigh of relief, Fisher recognized a few markers indicating that they were drawing close.

"We're almost back now!" he shouted, trying to keep a smile pasted across his face. "Don't worry, you'll be safe at the house!"

Around him, the women didn't look particularly comforted. One girl in particular shot him a look filled with equal parts frustration and distrust.

Fisher couldn't help but look back at that girl. She was shorter than most of the others, busty, with olive colored skin and slanted eyes that betrayed her Asian heritage. Even though she wore little more than a couple rags, revealing a wide expanse of cleavage, hips that momentarily made Fisher completely lose his train of thought, and short but very shapely legs, she also managed to wear that distrust like a cloak wrapped around her shoulders.

She didn't look fearful, however, he realized after a moment. Most of the other girls seemed to be half-paralyzed with fear, but this girl looked as though she was more angry than scared.

He leaned towards her slightly, dropping the smile that he knew wasn't helping him. "I promise, we're rescuing you," he tried again. "We're not going to let... whoever those guys are... take you back."

To be honest, Fisher wasn't entirely clear on who these girls were, or why the Iron Skulls were rescuing them. Cheery managed to be quite frightening when she tried, and her orders had sent him out the door before he'd even thought to ask why, or what was going on.

But as soon as he and Vlad had arrived at the address Cheery gave them, as soon as they'd brought in the heavy set of bolt cutters and had seen the girls handcuffed by the arm or leg to their beds, Fisher and Vlad had both known something was deeply wrong.

That feeling of wrongness grew stronger when, after they'd been cut free from their beds, the girls didn't run. Most of them even stayed on top of the flimsy, dirty mattresses, staring with wide eyes up at their rescuers.