Stoney's Property (Devils Riot MC: Originals Book 1) Page 7

  But in my need to protect Luca and Corinne, I refused to listen to what she was saying.

  Good one, Rachel. Could you be any more stupid than to not read between the lines? Might as well pray now because Raynor will kill you.

  “Where are Lucien’s brats, cunt?” Raynor asks as he drags me into the house I’d shared with Lucien.

  “Safe away from the lot of you,” I mutter as he releases his death grip on my arm only to throw a fist to my face. I stagger backward, hitting the back of the door.

  “Bitch, I suggest you learn your place,” Raynor snaps as he steps into my space, caging me with his arms. “Now, tell me where to find those brats you gave birth to.”

  “Like I said, they’re somewhere safe,” I say, hoping the fear that’s raging through me doesn’t give me away. Men like Raynor feed on fear.

  “You’re lucky Lucien isn’t here, Rachel, so I suggest you don’t push me. I have no problem putting you in a cage and shipping you off to Kansas for him to deal with,” he snarls.

  “Then I guess that’s what you’ll have to do. I won’t tell you where Luca and Corinne are,” I snap.

  Raynor lifts back from me as he gives me a sneer. Pulling out his phone, he presses some keys and puts it to his ear. Not even five seconds later, he says, “You were right, the stupid cunt came back here.”

  After a small pause, Raynor smiles and pulls the phone from his ear. “You’re on speaker,” he says.

  “Darlin’, you know, for someone as smart as you are, you are the stupidest fuckin’ bitch I know. Thinking you could run away from me. Told you before, you belong to me. Raynor’s going to take care of you until I get back there to grab your ass. I don’t have time to come after you, but before I get there, I suggest you have my boy with you,” Lucien snarls before disconnecting.

  You’d have thought he wanted to prolong his little speech, taunting me, but nope, he rushed through it and hung up.

  “You’ll have to excuse Lucien’s abruptness due to the fact the day you decided to take off, he couldn’t go after you and his father’s killer at the same time. Told him I’d handle you for him until he avenges his old man’s death,” Raynor sneers.

  “Well, lucky you,” I say snidely.

  “Yeah, lucky me, ‘cause the two of us, we’re gonna have some fun,” he mocks.

  “I don’t think so,” I scoff while I reach my hands behind my back, trying to make it seem like I’m only bracing myself against the door rather than reaching for the gun at my back.

  “Good thing our fun doesn’t require you to think.” He laughs, gripping both my arms and yanking them above my head.

  Raynor presses his front into mine as he grabs hold of both wrists with one hand and uses the other one to slide down my body, making sure to grope my boob as he goes. “You know how hot you are, Rachel? Hot and naïve all in one. Swear, I used to be jealous of Lucien, wishing I’d gotten to you first,” Raynor mutters, sliding his hand further down my side, then my back. “Lucien’s right, though— for a smart bitch, you are stupid as hell. Should have stayed at your cousin’s clubhouse.” I gasp as he grips the handle of the gun I’d planned to use.

  Stepping back, Raynor throws me to the floor as he dangles the Ruger in his hands. “Gotta say, I pegged you for maybe carrying a .22 Special, not an SR9. This shit has a nice little kick to it. I’m surprised you’d know how to use something like this.”

  Swinging the gun in his hand, he grips the handle of the thing and points it at my head. “Maybe I should shoot you with it and teach you a lesson about trying to go against any of us.” He grins.

  I crawl backward, all the while Raynor follows my movements.

  Think, Rachel, think. If you get to the hallway entrance, you might stand a chance to get away from him if you time everything right.

  Crooking his head to the side, Raynor smirks a knowing look and throws the gun on the couch as he steps by it. Right as I make it to the hallway, the asshole pounces like I hoped he would. Lifting my foot, I nail him directly in the balls with all my strength.

  “You bitch,” he growls as he staggers slightly, but it’s enough for me to get to my feet and head to the twins’ bedroom. The window should still be unlocked, but before I get to the bedroom door, Raynor tackles me to the floor and straddles my waist.

  “Get off me,” I scream and throw a punch at him.

  “I don’t think so, you stupid ass fucking cunt,” he snarls, gripping the top my shirt with one hand and slicing it down the middle.

  Tossing his knife to the side, Raynor then grabs hold of my wrists in one hand and pulls his belt off with the other. “You need to finally learn your damn place,” he says as he wraps the belt around my forearms, securing them together.

  With my arms secure, Raynor eyes my body. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous, even with those marks,” he grunts while he runs his hands up and down my front before gripping my nipples and pinching them so hard, I scream in pain. “That’s it, scream for me, baby.”

  I shake my head as I try to buck him off me, but he’s too heavy and barely budges. Panic begins to set in as Raynor leans his head down to capture one of my nipples in his mouth.

  “I suggest you not put your mouth on my ol’ lady.” My eyes widen at the deadly snarl in Stoney’s voice.

  16

  Stoney

  The moment I entered the house, I heard Rachel’s screams, and my blood froze. This is why her ass should have stayed at the clubhouse. On silent feet, I make my way toward the commotion. I stop at the mouth of the hallway and glance around the corner. It takes everything I have not to shoot the fucker who’s straddling my woman’s body.

  “That’s it, scream for me, baby.” The dead man walking chuckles.

  Cocking my gun, I quickly move and place it to the back of the asshole’s head as he gets ready to taste what belongs to me. “I suggest you not put your mouth on my ol’ lady,” I snarl.

  As much as I want to reassure Rachel by meeting her eyes, I don’t. One, I’m still fucking pissed she left the clubhouse, and two, I wasn’t fast enough to get here to stop this from happening.

  The asshole stills at the press of my gun against the back of his head. “Ol’ lady, huh? My, Rachel, you sure move on fast, hopping off one dick to another,” he smirks, not moving yet.

  Grinding my teeth, I grip the fucker off Rachel and into Tracker’s waiting hands. With a quick glance at my woman, I turn to face the man who thinks it's okay to attack women. Scanning the asshole, I realize this isn’t her ex but the Sergeant at Arms of the Lucifer’s Heretics, Raynor.

  “Where’s your VP?” I growl.

  “Takin’ care of business, not that it’s any of your business. Same as that bitch. She belongs to Lucien,” Raynor sneers, trying to rip out of Tracker’s hold.

  Shaking my head, I punch the dipshit hard enough to knock him out. “Fuckin’ pussy,” I mutter as Raynor crumples to the floor when Tracker releases his hold on him. “Find a place to get a rental and bring his ass back to the clubhouse,” I order before turning to face the most insufferable woman I’ve ever seen.

  Leaning down, I grab hold of Rachel under her arms and lift her up off the floor. “You still got clothes here?” I ask as I gather each side of her shirt to cover her tits.

  Instead of answering me, let alone looking into my eyes, she nods her head and turns in the direction of what used to be her bedroom. I follow her, not wanting to let her out of my sight. As I walk through the door, I make sure to close and lock it behind me.

  Leaning against the thing, I give myself a moment to merely watch Rachel as she removes the shredded shirt and tosses it to the floor. “What were you thinking coming here by yourself?” I ask quietly though fury radiates off my words.

  Rachel does nothing but shrug her shoulders as she walks over to her dresser on the far side of the room.

  “You goin’ to answer me,” I demand.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” Rachel mutters.

  “Like hell, you don’
t. Woman, you left the safety of MY clubhouse, where MY brothers were watching over you. I didn’t have time for this bullshit, not when I was dealing with family shit. Yet here the fuck I am handling YOUR shit. So, I suggest you start talking,” I roar as I stalk across the room and crowd her against the wall.

  “I was doing just like you, dealing with family shit. Now, I suggest you back the fuck up,” she yells, putting her hands against my chest to push me away.

  “You were really handling that back there, huh, what with the way that shithead was about to have his mouth on what belongs to me,” I sneer, stepping even closer to her, forcing her to move her hands from my chest.

  “He didn’t touch anything that belonged to you, Stoney. Raynor didn’t do a damn thing to you. It was me he touched, my body that belongs to me. I’m not your property, nor am I someone’s possession,” she seethes.

  “Think again, Doll, because I don’t think you heard me out there. I didn’t call you my property, but you are that as well. Because in my eyes, they’ve always been the same thing. You’re my ol’ lady, and I’ll be damned if you deny it. I know you feel shit for me the way I do for you,” I growl.

  “Even if I did, it doesn’t matter. All I am to anyone is an object that gets pushed around and pulled out when it’s time to fuck.” I swear, I’m gonna strangle this woman.

  “Woman, I don’t know who put that shit in your head, but you can get that shit out now.” I’d laugh at the way she narrows her eyes if I weren’t so damn pissed with her.

  “I can read between the lines, Stoney. You don’t want me for anything other than a bed warmer. That’s what you meant when you claimed me as property. In your eyes, I’m less than those whores at your clubhouse. You’d prefer to have threesomes with other women and those who will come willingly at your beck and call. So back the hell away from me and go fuck your whores and whoever else you have sex with. I’m sure that Boss woman would spread her legs for you again,” she screams.

  My vision blurs at the mention of Boss and the way she said her name. Fuckin’ hell. Clenching my fist, I slam it into the wall right over her head. “Don’t ever say her name again. You don’t know what you’re talking about. And don’t go putting words in my fuckin’ mouth. Now, pack your shit because you’re never coming back here,” I roar before stalking out of her room, slamming the door behind me.

  Walking into the living room, I find Raynor tied to a chair with Shadow standing by him. The man had regained consciousness, and from the shit-eating grin on his face, he heard at least some of the argument.

  “She’ll never be yours,” he chuckles.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I snarl.

  “Hey, I’m just trying to help you out. She’s only been with one man, and he molded her to the way he wanted her, preying off her insecurities. He even told me about the time she confided in him about her high school crush on an older man. My guess— that was you. Well, you lost out on that one. Lucien popped that cherry, planted his kids in her, and tied her to him. And when he gets back, he’ll be coming for you,” Raynor says.

  “Do you ever shut up?” I demand.

  “Just speaking the truth,” he shrugs.

  “Well, keep your fuckin’ opinion to yourself,” I snap as I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Tracker.

  “Yeah,” he says when he answers.

  “Change of plans, grab a moving truck,” I order, then disconnect, not in the mood for conversation.

  Turning to the fucker tied to the chair, I ask, “You know why I’m called Stoney?”

  “‘Cause you like to get stoned off your ass,” he laughs.

  “Nope, it’s because when I knock your ass out, it will feel like you're going through a brick wall as I break your jaw,” I state before slamming my fist right into said jaw. The force of the blow sends Raynor’s head sideways. Another punch to his midsection sends him, and the chair flipping backward.

  “That’s only the beginning for you, motherfucker,” I growl before spitting in the asshole’s face.

  17

  Rachel

  “That’s the last of Rach’s stuff, Prez,” my cousin announces as he closes the back of the moving truck, glancing between Stoney and myself. He hasn’t said anything or even looked at me since the blow-up earlier

  “Good, I’ll meet you all at the clubhouse,” Stoney says, the expression on his face not giving anything away to what he may be feeling.

  “You’re not goin’ to stay with us,” Tracker asks indecisively.

  With a shake of his head, Stoney walks over to his bike and straddles the massive thing. He doesn’t even spare a second glance back, puts his helmet on, and starts his bike. Throttling the motor, Stoney kicks the stand up and takes off.

  “I don’t know what the fuck happened between you two, but you’ve seriously pissed that man off. And that in itself is hard to do. Only a few people have been able to do that.” Tracker glowers at me as soon as we can’t hear Stoney’s bike anymore.

  “I’m not discussing this with you,” I huff. Turning my back to him, I stalk back into the house. I’d wanted to wait until everyone was gone to grab the last thing I would bring with me.

  “Well, you’ll be stuck sitting with me in the front of the moving truck for the next several hours. I suggest you be prepared to discuss this shit and what the fuck you were thinking coming down here by yourself,” Tracker says as he follows me. From the tone of his voice, I can tell he’s pissed with me as well.

  Everyone can just go to hell with their pissed off moods, thinking they can take over my life. All I wanted was for my cousin to watch over my kids for me while I handled my own problems. No one needed to come after me.

  Does it make me sound like an ungrateful bitch? Maybe. Nonetheless, I am thankful they came.

  “Go get in the truck. I’ll be out in a minute,” I say when I get to the room that used to be mine.

  “Nope, you're not leaving my sight until we get back to the clubhouse, and I hand you to your ol’ man,” Tracker declares.

  “He’s not my ol’ man,” I snap.

  “Whatever you say, Rach. Now, come on, I’d like to get home and pass the fuck out,” he says.

  “In a minute,” I mutter as I make my way to the corner of the room near the window and drop to my knees.

  “What are you doing?” he asks as I pick at the edge of the carpet, pulling it away from the baseboard.

  “Don’t worry about what I’m doing. I’m grabbing something that belongs to me,” I retort.

  “I swear you used to be a hell of a lot less of a pain in my ass growing up,” Tracker grumbles.

  I don’t respond to his words as I reveal the hidden compartment I’d made in the floor. Opening the space up, I pull out the photo albums I’d hidden from Lucien. I never told him I was related to Tracker, so I’d kept my albums secured away to keep that secret. The next thing I grab is a cash box that held not only money in it but mementos from growing up.

  By the time I pull the last of my things out of the compartment, Tracker is sitting on the floor next to me, looking through a photo album, one I wish he hadn’t picked up. The one I dedicated to the club from my times being there. I’d always loved photography, so I was constantly taking pictures of the guys, even some of the women who’d come.

  There’s one particular picture in that album that is my absolute favorite.

  “You know, Rach, you’ve always had talent when it came to using your cameras. I never understood why you didn’t stick with it,” he murmurs as his gaze lands on one of him, Blaze, and Stoney. They all had their heads tilted upward while laughing at something. I’m not sure what, but the shot turned out beautifully. The one next to it is my favorite, though. It’s a close-up of Stoney. From the angle of his face and the way I’d captured his chiseled jaw and the glint in his eyes, you’d have thought he was looking directly at you.

  Reaching over, I grab the album and close it. “No reason to discuss this right now,” I mutter. I wasn’t about to te
ll him why I stopped taking pictures. He didn’t need to know. Same as he didn’t need to hear what happened with Stoney.

  I gather all my things into my arms and stand. “We can go now,” I say softly.

  Sighing, Tracker stands on his feet and shakes his head.

  Between Tracker’s constant questions that I did my best to avoid and my thoughts wandering to images of Stoney with other women, laughing about me being nothing to him but his property, and the way his eyes seemed to fill with hate during our argument earlier, I was ready to pull my hair out by the time we made it back to the clubhouse.

  “Rach, we're here,” Tracker says as he pulls up to a house rather than the actual clubhouse.

  “Where are we?” I ask, furrowing my brow in confusion.

  “Your new home.” I want nothing more than to smack the smirk off his face as he climbs out of the driver’s seat.

  “Why am I not staying at the clubhouse anymore?” I demand as I follow his lead and get out of the truck. “My kids are there. I need to go to them.”

  “Stoney doesn’t want you there.” I hope he doesn’t see how I flinch at his words or see my heart sinking to the floor.

  “Fine, but I need to go get my kids,” I snap angrily to cover my pain.

  “Let’s get you inside first,” he states, nodding toward the door as he grabs my arm and all but drags me to the front door. “Don’t be a brat about this. I’m just doing as I was told.”

  “So if you're told to jump off a bridge, you’d do just that?” I demand.

  “Depends what I’m jumping in for,” he shrugs, opening the door. Tracker ushers me inside and closes the door behind us.

  “I don’t see why you had to be the one to tell me Stoney didn’t want me at the clubhouse. He should have had the balls to tell me himself,” I say, doing my best to hide the pain of knowing I was right all along.