Male voices. Scuffling. A distant whimper. A stale, putrid smell that made her scrunch up her nose and her stomach lurch.

Kiki groaned. She mentally did a body check and couldn’t find one part that didn’t ache or hurt in some way. She could’ve been hit by a tractor trailer and felt the same. Propped up into a seated position on the floor, she was leaning back against something hard—a wall maybe—but she listed to one side. She tried to shift, to straighten, but when she went to put her hand down for leverage, she couldn’t move it.

They must have found rope or something similar since her hands were now bound behind her back. She tried to wiggle her fingers, but couldn’t feel them.

Something warm rolled down her cheek. A tear?

She didn’t have time to cry and feel sorry for herself and the situation they were in. She needed to think. She needed to figure a way out of it.

She forced her swollen eyes open. It took an effort and the moment her eyelids opened to partial slits, the dim light caused pain to shoot through her temple.

Her legs were folded beneath her so she tried to shift again. Shit, her ankles were tied together, too. Her boots were gone. She glanced down as best as she could through her hazy vision. Her white blouse was in tatters and stained. So were her jeans.

Her tears weren’t dripping onto the floor. That was blood. Her blood. She had at least one head wound from the way her head throbbed and her scalp stung.

She painfully swallowed back the bile that threatened to bubble up.

With care, she turned her pounding head and surveyed the room. It appeared the Warriors had taken them to a house, but it was in such rough condition that there was no way anyone lived there. The drywall had holes, the wood framing was exposed, what wallpaper remained was peeling away in large chunks. The floors were filthy and consisted of exposed stained plywood. Not one stick of furniture could be seen. And, of course, being uninhabitable there would be no phone. No way to call for help. No way to let anyone, even Hawk, know where they were.

Kiki wouldn’t doubt the abandoned house sat in the middle of nowhere, too. Somewhere where no one would hear her scream.

She couldn’t even muster up any hope of being found. Not one single hope.

They were going to die here. And before she did, she was sure whatever these outlaw bikers had planned wouldn’t be pleasant.

Unless... they planned on ransoming her and Jazz to the club?

Her heart pounded with the possibility. That would be smart on their part. But then... Kiki couldn’t imagine either of them being intelligent.

She closed her eyes again as heavy footsteps approached. No, two sets of boots.

Grunting. Cursing under their breath. Then something hit the bare wood floor hard. Her eyes opened to barely slits again. She sucked in a breath.

Jazz.

She wasn’t tied up. Even better, she was coming to. Her head rocked back and forth, small mews escaping her lips.

“Just in time. Wakin’ up for the fun.” The taller, older one said, kicking at Jazz’s bare foot.

Oh shit.

A piercing scream filled the air, making all the hair on Kiki’s body stand on end. Jazz was now fully conscious and struggled to sit up. Her arms and legs floundered in different directions as she attempted to get her body to cooperate.

She was truly in fight or flight mode. As one of the Warriors dropped to his knees to grab her ankles, she kicked at him, making contact with his shoulder once and his gut another time. He grunted in pain and cursed at his partner in crime.

Kiki rooted her on silently. Fight, Jazz. Fight!

“Hold her still, goddamn it.”

The prospect dropped to his knees at her head, but instead of planting them on the floor he drilled his knees into her wrists, effectively pinning her down.

Her eyes wild, Jazz cursed at them. “They’re gonna fucking kill you! Kill you all!”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Skin you a-fucking-live. Making the biggest mistake of your fucking life!”

“Shut the fuck up!” the one at her feet shouted, then looked at the prospect, who remained by her head. “Need to gag the bitch.”

The prospect pulled a black bandana from around his neck, nodding in agreement.

“Don’t!” Jazz screamed as the prospect balled the bandana up and jammed it into her mouth.

Jazz coughed and thrashed, but it did no good. Kiki had to do something.

“Stop!” Kiki screamed. “Don’t! Don’t hurt her!”

Their heads swung her direction. “You shut up, too. You’re next.”

“No! No! Take me instead. Leave her alone. Take me, you assholes. Or ransom us. They’ll pay good money to get us back unharmed.”

“Right. Probably dead either way. Might as well enjoy some sweet pussy an’ die happy.”

A muffled scream came from Jazz, her eyes wide as she continued to struggle against the prospect pinning her wrists to the floor.

“Get her shirt off. Wanna see her tits,” the older Warrior barked.

The prospect took two handfuls of Jazz’s baby doll T-shirt and tore it clean in half causing Jazz’s torso to jerk in response.

Fuck!

“Please, please, please,” Kiki begged. “Leave her alone. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

The older Warrior looked her way. “Willingly?”

“Yes! Just... leave her alone.”

He laughed. “Right. Like the fight.” Then he pinned Jazz’s legs down with his shins and grabbed her shorts, ripping them down her legs.

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

She had to do something. Anything. She had to do whatever she could to stop what they were doing. What they planned.

“Fuck you, assholes. You want a fight. I’ll give you a fight. She’s not a challenge. I am. Fuck me instead.”

Once again, the Warrior’s head spun her direction and he studied her for a moment.

Then he glanced back at Jazz, who was now naked from the waist down. She only wore her bra, which the prospect had yanked up, exposing her breasts. Her eyes were now squeezed shut and Kiki could see her visibly shaking. She was saying something over and over but Kiki couldn’t make it out because of the bandana stuffed in her mouth.

Oh, God, someone help us.

“Nah. Fuckin’ want this fresh piece first. Then you.”

Oh, God, someone help that poor girl.

Kiki opened her mouth, sucked in a breath and, pushing past the pain, screamed at the top of her lungs. She didn’t stop screaming until the room went dark once more.

* * *

Hawk hunched low on his bike and pushed her to the limit. Diesel wouldn’t give him the address, but he forced it from Zak. He’d address that snafu with his brother another time. Right now, he had to get to Kiki. He understood why his brother wouldn’t want Hawk showing up, though his reasoning wasn’t good enough.

Zak could understand. He would insist on being involved if Sophie had been successfully snatched by that Warrior all those months ago. Hell, he would’ve been leading the search.

There was no way Hawk was just going to sit around waiting to find out what happened to Kiki. Or Jazz.

No goddamn way.

And if someone was going to have their heads busted in, he wanted a piece of that.

Unfortunately, Diesel and his crew had a head start and would get to the address where Kiki’s phone pinged way before he would. Zak was also heading that direction. The last known location was somewhere out in the country southwest of Shadow Valley close to the West Virginia line. At least on his bike, he could take the winding, hilly backroads with ease and speed.

He slowed down for only a split second as he passed the crumpled mess of Kiki’s Vette in a ditch alongside the road.

His heart thumped wildly and the sight only made him twist the throttle harder.

He was going to extract revenge if it was the last thing he did.

Nobody touched or harmed DAMC property.

Nobody.

* * *

Kiki groaned as she was dragged along the floor by her bound ankles. This time when she tried to open her eyes to assess the situation, it was nearly impossible. Her eyes had swollen so badly that her vision has been reduced to just pinholes. She could no longer breathe through her nose and had to inhale carefully through her mouth. And due to her broken ribs, it was impossible to take a deep breath at all. She no longer knew where the pain began and ended. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t an end. Everything hurt in one way or another. And things were about to get worse.

“Gonna hafta untie her legs.”

“I get a piece of her first this time.”

“Fuck you do. Prospects don’t get shit first.”

“Fuck you, Jack.”

“No, fuck you, Squirrel. Grab your fuckin’ knife.”

Kiki heard rustling around as she assumed the prospect, Squirrel, handed this Jackhole a knife. She listened for any sound from Jazz.

Nothing.

Oh God, she had no idea what condition the girl was in. Alive. Dead. Or even dying. Kiki had no idea how long she’d been knocked unconscious this last time, how long they assaulted Jazz.

She needed to vomit but didn’t even have the strength for that. Instead her guts just churned. When her ankles were cut free, she tried to kick out, but even the slightest movement proved difficult.

She did manage to move her mouth enough to say, “You’re not... going to get... shit for us in... this condition.”

Instead of receiving an answer, the point of the knife jabbed her belly as whoever held it began to slice open her jeans, starting at the waist.

She fought the cloying fear and let anger surge through her instead.

“Dead... You’re... all dead,” she said on a ragged breath.

She’d kill them herself. If she got out of this alive, she’d hunt them down and kill them with her own hands.

Kiki felt the air swirl over her bare thighs and knew it was close to the end for her.

This was it.

They were going to do something that would haunt her forever. Her life would never be the same from this moment on.

And she was weak. Helpless.

She couldn’t fight them even though she wanted to. Oh, God, did she want to.

This time it wasn’t only blood trickling down her cheeks. It was tears. A hot, endless stream squeezing from between her puffy eyelids.

“Wanna see her tits, too. Cut that bloody rag off her. She got bigger tits than that other one.” That was Jackhole making demands. She’d never forget his face or his voice.

Both would be forever burned into her brain. She’d find him.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the prospect leaning over her to slice her blouse and bra open.

“Fuck yeah. Look at—” The prospect’s voice drifted off and both of the Warriors stilled.

Jackhole barked out, “You call anyone?”

“Fuck no, man. Don’t wanna share this pussy any more than I gotta. Bad enough gettin’ second helpin’s.”

“Straight pipes. Someone’s comin’. Gotta split.”

Kiki strained to hear what they did. All she could hear was her heartbeat thumping in her ears.

“We can take ‘im,” the prospect said.

“Stupid fuck. Listen. Ain’t just one.”

Kiki gasped in relief when the one released her legs. “They’re... going to... kill you.”

“Shut the fuck up. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

“Should take ‘em with.”

“Fuck that. Don’t want ‘em followin’ us.”

Suddenly, she couldn’t miss the loud exhaust of the bikes roaring up to the house. To her it sounded like angels singing.

She just hoped it was DAMC and not some other outlaw MC that were rivals of the Shadow Warriors.

Because she was sure that club had plenty of enemies.

She was trying to roll to her side to see where Jazz was when the front door of the house was kicked in. The wooden door shattered into pieces.

“Fuck!” The pissed-off deep voice sounded familiar but with her fuzzy brain she couldn’t place it. “Check the house.”

Heavy footsteps thundered past them, making the floor shake beneath her. “Jazz,” she croaked.

Then she felt a dark presence next to her. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” came the mutter. The second “Jesus fuckin’ Christ” sounded a lot louder. And angrier.

“Out... back,” she struggled to say. She wanted to let whoever it was know that the Warriors escaped out of the back of the house.

“Don’t talk,” the gruff voice said.

“Van. Black primer.”

“Got it.” A second later. “Got that?”

A couple of deep voices shouted out “yeahs” as they rushed back past her and within moments Kiki heard the roar of the bikes again.

“Don’t... leave...”

“Not goin’ anywhere,” the deep voice was closer this time. Then she was rolled gently to one side, her wrists were cut free and something was laid over top of her.

“Who?” she managed to ask.

There was a long hesitation. “Diesel.”

“Thank... you.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “Be back. Gotta check Jazz.”

Jazz.

Oh God.

Then she heard his voice, her savior’s deep voice, from a distance. A one-sided conversation. His words coming low, rapid, and tightly strung.

Then she heard him louder and more clearly. “Sorry, baby. Got nothin’ to cover you up with ‘cept my shirt. Gotta hang on.”

Jazz was alive at least. Which wasn’t much to go on because Kiki didn’t know just how bad she was.

She couldn’t see much, she couldn’t roll over, she couldn’t sit up. She couldn’t even clear her throat enough to ask. But she tried anyway.

“Jazz?” she whispered. But Diesel must not have heard her.

Another loud bike rolled up, easier to hear this time through the broken front door. The air around her swirled with Diesel’s movement as he rushed to the the front of the house.

“Z,” he shouted.

Someone else rushed inside. “Heads up, Hawk’s comin’.”

“Fuck.”

There was a pause, then she recognized Zak’s raised voice. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Fuckin’ motherfuckers!”

“Hawk can’t see this shit,” Diesel grumbled.

“Fuckers are gonna die. That’s for fuckin’ sure.”

“Shouldn’t’ve given Hawk the location.”

“D... Nothin’ would stop you, either.”

“Right,” he grunted.

“5-0 en route?”

“Pained me to do it, but called your pop direct.”

“Fuck,” Zak muttered.

“Yeah. Ain’t callin’ 911. An’ we need an ambulance to transport. This shit ain’t gonna be fixed with a fuckin’ beer an’ a Band-Aid.”

“They’re both breathin’ though, right?” Zak asked, his voice sounding pained.

“Yeah. Thank fuck.”

Kiki hated the fact that she could hear them talking like she wasn’t even there. She called out, “Hawk,” as loudly as she could.

The conversation halted and before she knew it, Zak was kneeling by her side. “On his way, babe.”

“Don’t... want him... to see... me like... this.”

“Fuck. Me neither. Don’t got a choice, babe.”

Diesel’s voice came from above Zak. “He’s gonna fuckin’ blow.”

“Ain’t the half of it,” Zak agreed.

“Fuck, I hear ‘im,” Diesel mumbled.

“Gotta go out an’ tell him to brace.”

“You ain’t gonna be able to hold ‘im back, Z. Call Ace, get ‘im to meet us at the hospital. I’ll go out an’ warn my brother.”

“Got it.”

“Don’t want him... to see me... like this.”

A hand skimmed lightly over her forehead. “Babe, just gonna hafta deal. Gonna be like a bull in a china closet. Ain’t your fault.”

“Call Grizz, too,” Diesel shouted from the doorway before disappearing.

Kiki struggled to take a long, but shallow breath. She was afraid things were about to get worse instead of better.

* * *

The back tire on his bike kicked out as Hawk went from what seemed like a hundred miles an hour to a dead stop. He got it under control and shut her down, kicking the stand down and scrambling off his bike.

His brother was trotting down the steps of a falling down porch. The house didn’t have a front door. Most of the windows were broken or missing. What paint was left on the wood siding was slowly peeling away with time and the weather.

It was a fuckin’ dump. And so off the beaten path that if those dumb fuckers had known better, they would have tossed Kiki’s cell somewhere, left it in his driveway or at least at what was left of the Vette.

Thank fuck they hadn’t.

“Talk to me,” Hawk barked as he met his brother halfway.

“Gotta brace, brother.”

Hawk felt his chest cave as all of the oxygen fled his lungs. He went to push past D but his brother stepped in his way, holding up his hands.

“Brother,” Hawk warned.

“Gotta brace, Hawk,” D said again, more firmly this time.

“She breathin’?”

“Yeah.”

“She gonna live?”

“’Spect so.”

Hawk tried to round his brother but Diesel grabbed his shoulders and held fast. Hawk narrowed his eyes and tightened his jaw. “Don’t make me go through you.”

“Hawk. Ain’t good. Just tellin’ you now. Ain’t good. Jazz is worse. This is the kinda shit neither of ‘em may get over. Just sayin’.”

His heart stopped, squeezed tight and then began to thud in his chest. He closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath. He opened his eyes and held his brother’s concerned gaze. “Gotta go in, D. Gotta. Now, lemme go.”

Diesel removed his hands from Hawk and held his palms out in a show that he would no longer try to stop him from going in. “Gonna be hard to tell, but she’s conscious. She’ll hear anythin’ you’re sayin’.”

Hawk gave him a sharp nod, pushed past him and felt his brother right on his heels as he ran up the steps and through the door, which was splintered into pieces. He stepped over shards of wood and his eyes immediately landed on a figure sprawled on the floor.

Totally unrecognizable. But even from where his feet had frozen in place at the horrific sight he knew who it was.

Grizz’s granddaughter.

Holy motherfuck.

Jazz.

Hawk swallowed hard, trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Her face was not only beyond recognition, both of her arms were twisted in an unnatural way. Her legs were spread wide, a pool of blood between them. She was mostly covered by a T-shirt, probably Diesel’s, since he had come out of the house not wearing anything above his waist.

A movement caught his eye and he looked up to see Z on a cell phone at the opening to another room. The club’s former president lifted a hand and pointed somewhere deeper into the same room Jazz was in.

And like Diesel warned him, he fucking braced.

On legs he couldn’t feel, he shuffled forward, his breath coming quickly as he stepped through the doorway of the room. He forced his eyes to land on the other woman sprawled over the filthy floor.

The other woman.

His woman.

Fuckin’ Kiki.

D said Jazz was worse. Yeah, she was. But not by much.

Her long dark hair was caked with dried blood, her face was swollen and purple, her eyelids puffed out so badly you couldn’t even see her eyes. Blood still trickled slowly from a wound above her forehead.

The remnants of her clothes were peeled away from her, like they were sliced open where she laid.

The only thing covering her battered and bruised body was D’s cut. But it wasn’t enough. He could still see the deep purples, reds, and blues on both sides of her rib cage. Her breath wheezed from between her lips.

He was frozen. Completely frozen solid inside and out as he stared at what remained of the vibrant woman who had shared his bed and who had wormed her way into his heart.

His eyes closed, he sucked in a breath and then dropped to his knees. With both hands holding onto his scalp, he threw back his head and howled.

“Jesus,” D muttered from behind him, planting a hand on his shoulder.

He shoved it off. He wasn’t the one who needed help.

It wasn’t him at all.

It was his woman before him, laying there in a broken heap, that needed all the help they could give her.

As he reached out, Diesel muttered, “Don’t touch her, brother. Ambulance’s on the way. Hear the sirens comin’.”

Hawk jerked his cut off his shoulders and ripped his shirt over his head, gently placing the tee over Kiki’s battered body and D’s cut.

He leaned close to her ear. “Help’s comin’, babe. Gonna take care of you, promise. They’re comin’. I hear ‘em.” He swallowed hard. “You hear me, babe? Gonna take care of you. Hear me? Gonna take care of you. Promise. Gonna...”

D’s hand landed on his shoulder again. “Gonna go out to meet the ambulance.”

“Yeah.”

D turned but stopped when Hawk called out, “D...” Hawk glanced over his shoulder at his brother. “Gotta get ‘em.”

“Got my crew on their tail.”

Hawk nodded. “Keep ‘em breathin’.”

After a slight hesitation, his brother softly said, “Hear ya, brother.” Then with a chin lift he headed out to meet the emergency responders.