Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5) (71 page)

Hawk’s fingers continued to move in and out of her pussy while his cock was halfway in her butt. He bent over, grabbed a breast, and tugged at her nipples. Volts of intense pleasure coursed throughout her body, and Cara gasped at the intensity. As he played with her tits and fucked her pussy, Hawk pushed his length into her ass and rocked back and forth, slowly at first, then increasing his speed. Instinctively, she pushed back into his hardness and took his rod deeper into her.

“Fuck, my cock loves being in your tight ass,” he panted.

He moved in and out of her ass while her tits tingled and his fingers fucked her pussy. The building tension exploded into a series of frenzied spasms, which spread from her clit to her head, and from deep in her throat, she let out a primal scream.

Cara felt Hawk’s balls tighten against her ass cheeks, and when he pulled out, his hot seed spurted over her rounded globes. He panted and grunted as the last of his essence spilled out. Dropping to his side, he cradled Cara to him, and with her back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Fuck, babe, that was awesome,” he said, caressing her neck.

She bent her head back and sought his lips. As she placed her hands over his, he held her close and they drifted to sleep.

*     *     *

Three hours later,
Hawk’s phone alarm pierced the quiet in the room, and he sighed as he turned it off before it woke Cara up. Not moving, the only sound in the room was Cara as she breathed through her nose. As he watched her shadowed form, he brushed his fingers over her cheek then tenderly kissed her left temple. Rolling out of bed, he shuffled to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

The hum of several motorcycle engines woke Cara up, and Hawk’s silhouette against the early morning darkness piqued her curiosity. Propping her head up on her elbow, she yawned. “What’re you doing?”

Striding over to the side of the bed, Hawk leaned over Cara, stroked the side of her face, and said, “Go back to bed, babe. I gotta go. Club business.”

Cara, wide awake after that, sat up in bed, switched on the small lamp, and held the sheet over her bare breasts. “At this hour? Where are you going?”

Hawk kissed her. “Club business,” he said against her lips.

“When will you be back?”

“Don’t know for sure.” Hawk tightened a bandana tied to a large padlock and placed it in his back pocket. The padlock was a weapon of choice for many of the Insurgents; it acted like a blackjack and could knock the hell out of anyone.

“Is everything okay? You’re not in danger, are you?” Her voice carried fear.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll see you later.” When he hugged her close to him, her sheet fell down and her bare tits crushed against him, making his cock jerk. He kissed her then pulled away. On top of his desk, he picked up his kill-light—a large industrial flashlight, and one of his favorite weapons. All the brothers carried a kill-light since it was a legal weapon and the badges couldn’t do shit if they found it on them.

Hawk locked with Cara, and he noticed her bottom lip quiver. He had to get out of there, because if she cried, he’d never be able to leave her.

Going over to her again, he pulled the sheet and blanket around her as he brushed her lips, noticing her chattering teeth vibrated against his mouth. His heart lurched when Cara’s arms encircled his neck and tugged him closer to her. Prying her away, he whispered, “Gotta go, babe.” Opening the door, he said over his shoulder, “Don’t go anywhere. Stay at the clubhouse until I get back. No arguments. Got it?”

Nodding in agreement, she said in a shaky voice, “Be safe.”

Locking the door behind him, Hawk entered the empty hallway and made his way to the parking lot. Outside, the icy air slammed him in the face while puffs of his breath created smoke rings. Looking at the other riders, he jerked his head toward the open road, and the rumble of eleven motorcycles shattered the quietness of the early morning as the riders disappeared into the darkness.

A
s he rode
toward the Nomads’ clubhouse, the freezing wind pelted Hawk’s face.
I’ll teach that motherfucker Viper to mess with my woman.
Since he first learned of it, he’d brooded about Cara’s encounter with the jerk. He couldn’t stand for
any
man to even look at his Cara, let alone a fucking asshole like Viper.

A slow smile spread across his face as Cara entered his mind. They were good together, and the way she writhed and moaned, confirmed she lusted for him as much as he did for her. And she had no problem showing him how much she enjoyed it. His sexy wildcat threatened his heart, and he had no clue if she felt something other than lust for him.

Earlier in the night, when she climbed on top of him and rode his cock, he decided she was more than his favorite fuck—he wanted Cara as a part of his life. Realization had slammed him in the face, and not having her in his life was not an option, but the biggest shock was he craved more than fucking with her. He wanted the whole damn package: conversations, laughing at stupid stuff, knowing she’d be in his room when he came back. As far back as he could remember, he’d never wanted to belong to any one woman—that shit was alien to him. In his life, he had belonged to two things: his troop and the Insurgents. He had never belonged to any woman.

After his mom left him in the hands of his monster dad, he swore off women except for fucking. But then he met Cara, and she did something to him no woman had ever been able to do—she made him care. His wildcat softened the edges of his hard, jagged heart and threatened to break the shell, stirring emotions deep in the caverns of his heart. In the beginning, he’d tried to stay away, but he couldn’t. Cara had already claimed his cock and was going for his heart, and he never saw it coming—
him,
of all people. Figuring he’d be the last one who would ever fall for a woman, the brothers looked at him in amusement, but she had him on her hook.
Damn, look at Cara: her soft skin, her luscious body, her laugh, her sass. Fuck, I never stood a chance
.

The riders started their descent into the canyon which housed the Nomads’ clubhouse, and all eyes were on Hawk as they waited for him to give the gesture to kill their motors and roll their Harleys. Stretching his arm, he signaled them to stop and cut their engines, which lent an eeriness to the night.

“Jax said four fucks drove the truck with the women. The brothers went to intercept them,” Ruben said.

“Good. Are there any women in the house?” He wanted to punish the Nomads, but he didn’t want innocent women hurt or killed.

“As far as we can tell, Viper keeps the women in the basement in separate rooms. There may be some in there,” Ruben answered.

“No one upstairs except the motherfuckers?” Hawk wanted to be sure.

“Don’t think so.”

“I want to air condition the house, but I don’t want anyone to be hurt except the fuckin’ Nomads,” Hawk said.

Air conditioning a rival’s clubhouse meant riddling it with bullets. The Insurgents strove to keep peace, but if someone crossed the line or disrespected them, they had no problem showing their strength.

Hawk nodded at several of the brothers, who took out their AKs and semi-automatics—two of the brothers carried a few grenades in case things went out of control. Armed and ready, the group was on stealth-mode as they approached their target.

A series of pops shattered the still night. Lights flicked on, illuminating the clubhouse and members as they screamed, “What the fuck?” Windows cracked under the assault while wood panels groaned when bullets bore deep into them. Inside the clubhouse, pandemonium broke out, and Nomads ran every which way. Some pulled out their pistols and shot into the inky blackness, but it was obvious the Nomads didn’t know what hit them.

Jax ran toward Hawk, who motioned Jax to come to the clearing to the right of the clubhouse where it was quieter. Jax said, “We intercepted the truck, and we’re going to drive it back to Pinewood Springs. What are we gonna do with the women?”

“Banger doesn’t want them anywhere near the clubhouse. Drop off the truck at the county line then text Doris. She’ll make the call to the officials and they can sort all this out. We don’t want too much involvement with them. You can take care of it, right?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll take Chas with me. We’ll head out now,” Jax said.

Hawk nodded, and Jax took off through the forest of evergreens.

When Hawk came back to the Nomads’ clubhouse, the Insurgents were inside. Jumping up on the porch, his steel-capped boots crunched over the spent bullets. Inside, streaks of red were on the walls, and pools of blood stained the floors. Going to each downed Nomad, Hawk kicked them over, face-up, trying to find Viper. Not seeing him among the casualties, he went upstairs, weapon drawn, and kicked opened the closed doors. No one was there but a petite brunette chained to a bedpost; naked and crying, she bore the angry markings of a beating on her delicate skin. Staring through frightened, swollen eyes, she moved closer to the bedpost as if to make her body as small as possible. With each step Hawk took, the young woman flinched until she cried out when he bent down on his knees next to her.

“It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

As tears rolled down her face, she whimpered and winced when they fell onto her split lip.

Not finding a key to release the chains, Hawk located a bolt cutter under the bed, broke the chains, and freed the woman.

Hawk looked at her.
Fuck, she isn’t more than eighteen years old. Fuck these assholes.
He extended his hand, and the young woman hesitantly placed her hand in his. Helping her to her knees, he gave her the bed sheet to cover her nakedness.

“What the fuck happened?’ he asked.

She shook her head, saying, “No English, no good.”

The woman is no help.
“Who did this to you?” Hawk asked as he pointed to her bruises and bloody lip.

She hung her head down, her small shoulders shaking as sobs overtook her. “Vip do me.”

“Viper?” Hawk clarified.

She nodded. Hawk gestured for her to sit on the bed and wait for him to come back. In the hallway, he saw Ruben. “Have you seen that asshole, Viper?”

Ruben peeked around Hawk’s shoulder. “Who’s the bitch? Is she Viper’s whore?” he asked.

“More like his victim. She doesn’t speak English. He did a number on her. I think she’s one of the women who were smuggled, but I can’t learn anything from her. Where
is
that motherfucker?”

“No Nomads are up here. The brothers found a couple of girls in the basement: one is a cute blonde all prettied up, and the other one is in a cage, naked and wearing a collar and a gag. What do we do with them?”

“We’ll take them with us. We can’t leave them here. Let’s take them to one of the safe houses away from the clubhouse. The less they know, the less they can talk. It’d be too bad to have to dispose of them if they see too much, you know?”

“Okay, Hawk. I’ll take care of it.”

Before going downstairs, Hawk gave Ruben a towel and motioned him to hand it to the terrified woman for her bloody face.

Mayhem greeted Hawk as he approached the main floor. Six of the Nomads were on the premises, and they lay in puddles of blood. Looking at the grim scene, Hawk said, “Let’s take care of this.” The brothers went to work, making sure nothing would trace back to the Insurgents.

Opening a door off the kitchen, Hawk went downstairs to the basement. Entering a large room, he observed the two women Ruben told him about. The blonde was the same one he’d seen the morning before, and he recalled Viper singling her out. Looking closely at her, Hawk noticed she was young and petite, with small tits and blue eyes, and she looked familiar to him. Staring at her, he tried to place her, and her eyes shone with fear and contempt. Sitting on a concrete bench, dressed in a short, gold skirt with a crochet cream top which revealed her lacy gold bra, she looked like a young girl playing dress-up. It was like she decided to be a prostitute for Halloween, and her thick makeup lent a ghoulishness to her delicate features. Turning her eyes away from Hawk’s stare, she focused her gaze on the ground.

Entering the room, Chas and PJ looked at the pretty blonde. “Are there any more women down here?” asked Chas.

“Not sure. I’m gonna check the other rooms. Have any of you seen that sniveling pussy, Viper?” Hawk darted his eyes down the dark basement’s hallways.

Shaking his head, PJ said, “We haven’t come across him. Maybe he’s hiding in the woods like a pussy.”

“Sounds like him. These motherfuckers must’ve had quite a trafficking business going. What a bunch of sick assholes,” Chas said.

Nodding, Hawk walked down the hallway. Behind the basement room doors, the terror the women suffered made Hawk see red. Seething, he went through the rooms looking for Viper. Most of the rooms he entered resembled torture chambers, filled with whips, hooks, pussy lip stretchers, and wall-mounted ankle and wrist shackles. A few of the back rooms, under the stairs, resembled medieval dungeons, complete with steel puppy cages, punishment benches, suspension bars, and stockades. The smell of urine permeated the basement, and Hawk covered his nose with his hand. In all the rooms, dog bowls with water and food were on the floor, and dried blood speckled the walls.