CHAINED: A Motorcycle Club Romance (5 page)

Now, however, the thought of drugs, like so many things, made him feel tired.

Feeling the handlebars of his motorcycle rumble gently in his hands as it rode over the cracks in the road, Cain reflected slightly ruefully on his situation. He felt a bit like a man who, having completed his mission, now had no other cause to motivate him in life.

He'd grown close to the Iron Skulls for years, had helped them build up their organization into a true motorcycle club, a proud member of the one percenters. There wasn't a man in the Skulls who wouldn't choose to lay down his life to help Cain, to stand together.

Cain had a house, now. He had a fine bike, as well as another half-disassembled Harley in the garage that he'd been working to restore. Thanks to his opening the doors of his home, making use of the extra bedrooms, he had no shortage of female companions should he want someone to share his bed, although he seemed to feel those urges less and less frequently these days.

Most men would be thrilled with his circumstances, with the details of his life.

Yet for Cain, he felt little more than a mildly distant form of caring. It all seemed so unimportant. He felt as though he was missing something, but he just couldn't put a finger on what that might be.

He pulled up at the barn, carefully steering the bike back inside, out of the grasp of the elements. But as he cut the engine, he suddenly heard a high-pitched, shrill sound come from the house.

A woman was screaming.

Moving almost without thought, Cain leapt off the bike, wrenching the key out of the ignition as he hopped off. He sprinted out through the barn's open doors, not bothering to drag them closed as he ran for the house.

He burst through the front door of the house, staring around. One of his hands reached out for the baseball bat that he always kept standing right up against the corner in the front hall, in case of an intruder.

However, Cain was most definitely not prepared for the figure that rushed at him, letting out another shrieking scream.

In the instant before the figure collided with him, Cain recognized Jenna's face, looking cleaner and wetter than when he'd last seen it, but with eyes wide with fright. Before he could observe anything more, however, Jenna ran headlong into him, colliding damply with his chest and knocking him backwards off his feet.

Cain instinctively threw his arms around the woman as they both fell backwards, tightening down so that she hit his chest and he absorbed the hard impact with the house's front porch behind the open front door. The hit knocked the wind out of him, doubly so when the woman came down on top of his chest.

"What the hell?" he wheezed as he struggled to lift his head up, staring at Jenna on top of his chest.

The woman stared back at him, her eyes wide. Suddenly, Cain realized that she was shivering, pressing down against him.

"The men," she gasped out, her eyes still filled with panic. "They were there, looking for me. They're going to get me, to take me back, to hurt me again."

Cain stared helplessly back at her. Over Jenna's shoulder, he saw Cheery's face pop up, looking equal parts shocked and amused.

"Cheery, what the hell is going on?" Cain asked, as he slipped his other hand around Jenna to move her down to his legs, so that he could pull himself back up.

As the biker slid Jenna down, he realized suddenly that not only was the girl damp and shivering, but she was also completely naked! For just a moment, he dithered, unable to find a safe place to put his hands, but eventually he just slipped one big hand firmly around her waist and put the other on the middle of her back.

Despite her nakedness, however, Jenna didn't seem eager to forfeit her position up close against the man. She threw her arms around Cain's neck and buried her face in his chest, still shivering. "Please, please," she whispered into the leather jacket he wore.

Helplessly, he rubbed the hand on her back up and down. "Don't worry," he murmured into her hair. "I'll make sure that no one hurts you. I won't let anyone take you away."

Cain meant the words only as a soothing, calming assurance, but as he spoke them, he was astounded to feel a surge of some emotion bloom inside his chest, beneath where Jenna's head rested. Even though he'd barely known this girl for more than a few hours, he felt a surge of... what? Protectiveness? Caring? Closeness, empathy for her fear?

After another moment, he felt the girl's breathing settle a little, dropping to a slightly slower, deeper rhythm. Her hands remained fastened around his neck, however, and she wiggled a little closer up against him. She had long limbs, but she was so thin that she fit all inside Cain's arms like a child, especially when curled up.

Jenna's wiggling on his lap, however, suddenly made Cain aware of another growing sensation. The girl was pushing her little butt down right on his crotch, and each of her movements made him more and more aware of her presence there. Abruptly, he realized that the girl's naked breasts were pressing in against his chest as well, and he fancied that he could feel the little points of her nipples pushing up against him.

Fortunately, Cheery stepped forward. "Jenna, it's okay," she soothed, reaching down and very gently untangling the girl's arms from around Cain's neck. "Now, let's get you back inside, and we can get you dressed."

Cheery's efforts freed Cain from the girl's grip, but Jenna momentarily narrowed her eyes up at the whore. "He comes too," she demanded.

Cheery glanced over at Cain in silent pleading. Cain sighed, but nodded. "Yeah, okay," he grunted. "And you can show me whatever scared you."

Both the biker and the naked girl rose up to their feet, following Cheery back into the house. As they stepped past the open archway that led into the house's large living room, Jenna held up a finger pointing into the room.

"There," she said clearly, her pointing finger not wavering.

Cain followed her finger. There was a large television standing against one wall in the living room; Cain ensured that no one broke it by insisting that he'd sell the bike of any member who laid a finger on the device. Only one man had dared to test him, and Cain had immediately demonstrated that this wasn't an idle threat.

The television was currently turned on, although it was only displaying a news station. "And in other news, James Archon, founder and CEO of Archon Banks, has announced that he's launching a new philanthropic organization, focused on eliminating ringworm diseases in affected regions..." Over the anchor's shoulder, a picture of James Archon, looking regal and commanding in a black suit with his steel gray hair swept back over his head, glared out at the living room.

"James Archon?" Cain asked, tearing his eyes away from the man's commanding gaze to look at Jenna.

She stared back at the picture on the television, once again shivering a little. "I remember him," she whispered, not looking away. "He came in, touched me. Made me hurt. He wants to find me, to take me back."

After another minute, Cheery carefully led the girl away. Cain followed after them, but he lingered for just a moment before looking away from the image of the wealthy businessman and philanthropist displayed on the news program.

Chapter eight

Obediently, Jenna followed after the nice blonde lady, not minding how the blonde lady half-towed her along by holding her hand. This house was big, almost as big as the place she had escaped from, and Jenna didn't want to be lost.

At least this house wasn't like that building otherwise, she thought to herself, shivering again. She still couldn't remember much, but she could recall easily the screams, cries, and whimpers that had filled the air. She remembered how the tattered, ugly curtains that hung across the doorways of rooms did nothing to block the sounds, sometimes wet and organic, that came out from inside those rooms.

Jenna closed her eyes, trying to block the images out of her mind. She hated the blankness that she felt there, her inability to remember, but at the same time she knew that the memories lurking behind that door in her head were filled with terror and fear and pain. Yet like picking at a scab, she couldn't keep her consciousness away from that wall.

"Here we are," the nice blonde lady said, stopping at one of the doors. They'd gone through the kitchen, down another corridor. The blonde lady raised her hand and rapped her knuckles against the door. "Brandy? Are you in there?"

After a moment, during which no response came from the other side of the door, the nice blonde lady grinned at Jenna and Cain, the big strong man behind them. "She must be out - but she said that we could find something that would fit," she told them both.

The blonde lady opened up the door, and Jenna followed her into a small bedroom, cozy but comfortable. Glancing over her shoulder, Jenna saw the big strong man glance off down the corridor, as though he was considering turning and leaving her.

Panic rose up inside Jenna's head. He was the first one to find her, the strongest here! She had to keep him.

She reached out and grabbed the man, Cain's, hand. She tugged him into the room, her eyes beseeching. Cain sighed a little, but he came into the room, looking slightly oversized and uncomfortable in the cozy bedroom.

Cheery, the blonde lady, was already rummaging through a set of drawers up against one wall. "Okay, first is some underwear!" the lady called out, tossing a couple flimsy little garments back at Jenna. "Put these on, and then we'll get you some shorts and a shirt to cover you up."

Obediently, Jenna stepped into the pair of panties, and then tugged the bra around her chest. Glancing over at the bed, she saw that Cain was carefully averting his eyes. Jenna felt puzzled. Why was he looking away? Was he somehow bothered by her nakedness?

From behind that dark door in her mind, Jenna suddenly recalled other men, men who had wanted to see her naked, who had torn cruelly at her clothes and stripped her bare so that they could touch her. She shivered, but managed not to run and flee.

She could control the panic, she said sternly to herself. She was not ruled by the fear. She was someplace different now, someplace safe. Cain would protect her, as would the blonde lady. They wouldn't let that man from the television come and take her.

Once she'd pulled on the underwear, Cain seemed to relax a little. Jenna tried to smile at him, and for just a tiny fraction of a second, she thought that she saw his lips quirk up at the very corners into a returning smile before they returned to neutral blankness.

Cheery was still digging through the wardrobe, and had tossed several outfits aside, onto the bedsheets behind her. Curious, Jenna reached over and picked up one of them, holding it up to examine it. It seemed to be made mostly out of see-through gauzy fabric and black lace, and there didn't appear to be enough material there to cover much of anything. "Is this what Brandy wears?" she asked.

Cheery quickly snatched the garment out of Jenna's hands, but Cain chuckled. "Only when she's lured one of our initiates up here," he commented.

Jenna didn't understand this comment, but Cheery gasped and smacked Cain with the back of one hand. The hit didn't stop the man from chuckling a little more, however.

After another minute or two of rummaging through the drawers, Cheery found a shirt, a v-neck blouse in a bright pink color, and a pair of shorts. "Here, I guess we'll have to go with these," she sighed. "And honestly, Brandy's wardrobe is terrible!"

"Good for what she does," Cain pointed out, which earned him another smack.

Obediently, Jenna pulled on the clothes. They felt unfamiliar, covering up more than anything she'd worn before, at least as far as she could remember. But when she looked up, Cheery was nodding approvingly, and for just another fraction of a second, she spotted another one of those tiny smiles on Cain's face.

"Great!" Cheery clapped her hands together. "She's fed, she's clothed, and I think my work here is done. Cain, my love, I leave her in your surely capable hands."

This time there was no mistaking the look of panic in the biker's eyes. "What? What am I supposed to do with her?"

Cheery shrugged. "I have no idea," she replied, not sounding concerned. "But you better keep her safe, and I'd say that the best way to do so is to start by figuring out where she came from, and why Mr. James Archon might want to get her back and hurt her."

Cain looked as though he wanted to say more, but with a toss of her hair, Cheery bounced past him, out the door.

And a moment later, Jenna and Cain were alone in the bedroom.

For a second, the biker looked at the door, raising one hand as if trying to call the blonde lady back. But she was gone, and he let his hand drop, sighing and glancing down at his lap.

Jenna scooted closer to the man, sitting down beside him on the bed. "I'm sorry," she said, looking down at where the man's hands were now folded on his lap.

He glanced over at her. "Sorry? What are you sorry about?"

"About making you have to look after me. For bothering you. For coming into your house."

The man shook his head, and he leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his arms behind him. "Nah, that's not your fault," he said, although he still didn't look over at her. "There wasn't any other place for you to go."