Fury (2 page)

Chapter
Two

Angelina
had felt that pricking on the back of her neck the entire walk home, but she
felt safe now, better that she was in her home with the doors locked. Was this
shit all in her head? Was her paranoia so pronounced that the more she thought
about what was out there the more she worked herself up?

Rubbing
a hand over her face, she set her purse and jacket on the kitchen table and
went over to the fridge. Wine sounded good right about now, that and a hot
bubble bath. Maybe the alcohol and soaking in the tub would help alleviate some
of her tension?

Angelina
took the bottle and a glass, and headed upstairs. She hated living this life
where she felt like she was on a ledge and the slightest wind would push her
right off and into a bottomless pit. It was par for the course, she supposed,
but Angelina just wanted a normal life. She didn’t want to be known as the
daughter of Sal, a fucked up man that terrorized people, or the sister of a
Cardona that enjoyed torturing his enemies for the sheer fun of hearing them
scream.

Exhaling
and setting the bottle of wine on the counter, she started the water and poured
a capful of bubbles into the tub. She didn’t know how long she stood there, but
the room started to get warm and moist from the humidity in the air, and she
felt beads of perspiration start to dot her forehead. Removing her shirt, she
tossed it in the basket, her mind thick with that worry that she’d never have
the quiet life she’d always wanted. Angelina didn’t want to be anyone that was
known, didn’t want to be anyone at all, in fact.

But,
she supposed it was what it was. Sooner or later she’d be found, because she
couldn’t hide forever, especially if the Cardonas wanted to find her.
 

****

Fury
picked the lock, let himself into Angelina’s place, and shut the door quietly
behind him. He stood there for a second, listening to the sounds in the house,
and hearing the water running in the bathroom. Like clockwork she was in there
bathing. He moved into the kitchen, saw she’d left the cabinet open to the
glasses, and turned to head into the living room. Everything was silent, and he
hadn’t seen that vehicle following her anymore.

His
blood pumped through his veins, and adrenaline and wild energy inside of him
filling his very cells. He anticipated this, had been following her around long
enough, and now was the time he’d get what he came for.

Removing
from his pocket a rag and the small bottle that held chloroform, he looked down
at the glass jar. He’d bought it easily enough from some less than savory
people he knew. Fury had always just used physical violence to make his point,
but he wouldn’t do that with a female.

He
made his way down the hallway, his boots making a soft thud on the carpet.
Stopping when he was right in front of the bathroom door, Fury stood there a
moment, hearing the water fully being turned off. A second later the sound of
her stepping into the tub played out, and he couldn’t help the sudden arousal
that slammed through him. Hell, he was a man, and she was a naked woman on the
other side of the door. There would be plenty of time for playing with her,
though, once he got back to his place.

And
then he heard music playing from behind the bathroom door. It was classical, something
sad sounding, and although maybe he should have felt like a piece of shit for
what he was about to do, he didn’t care. He had to do this for his MC, to get
back at those Cardona fuckers.

When
he grabbed the handle and pushed it inward, the door opened soundlessly. He
stood in the doorway, staring at the bathroom, steam filling the room, and
Angelina with her back to him as she dried off. He looked at her nude body, her
big, rounded ass, and the olive complexion of her skin. She lifted her foot and
braced it on the in the tub, and started drying off her leg. He could see the
side view of her big breasts, the mounds swaying gently as she continued to dry
herself and hum with the music.

He
stood there for several moments, doing nothing but watching her, feeling the
dark arousal move through him, but knowing right now he was here for a job.

She
was unaware of him still, and that would make this go a lot easier.

Taking
the rag and bottle, he poured a generous amount of chloroform on the cloth,
tucked the jar in his back pocket again, and took the few steps it required
getting to her. Once he was right behind her, feeling her body heat, smelling
the scent of lavender come from her, he felt his cock give another hard jerk.
He looked his fill once more. She had curves that went on for fucking miles.

Getting back at her will help get
back at those motherfuckers that hurt the club.

Fury
could admit to being a lowdown motherfucker a lot of the time, but he’d never
kidnapped a woman, or had plans of this magnitude for her. He wasn’t a woman or
child abuser, and sure as fuck wasn’t a rapist. But what he did know was that
he could get this pretty little Italian girl to want him before their time was
up. Yeah, he didn’t doubt she’d want his cock, beg him for it, too.

He
grinned at that thought.

He
saw her body tense, and knew she was aware of him standing right behind her.
She straightened and slowly turned around. For a second she just stared at him,
her eyes wide, her fear clear.

 
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said in a voice that he
knew was deep and dark, and promising a hell of a lot of things she was
terrified of. Fury covered her nose and mouth with the rag. She started to
struggle instantly. Looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes, she fought
him, trying to pry his hands and the rag away. But despite her curves and will
to survive, he outweighed her and overpowered her easily.

Within
a few moments her struggle lessened, her eyes became heavy, and then she was
finally out.

Fury
picked her up before she fell to the ground, grabbed the towel, and covered her
haphazardly with it. For just a second he stared down at her. Her black hair
was matted to her face, the wet strands looking like spilled ink. She looked
peaceful, in a drugged kind of way. He lowered his gaze to her mouth, her lips
full and red, and slightly parted as she breathed evenly.

“Get
it the fuck together,” he said to himself and left the bathroom. Setting her on
the bed, he grabbed a bag from the closet and shoved some clothing in it for
her. He was a bastard for taking her, but at least she could have some of her
shit while he kept her captive.

He
stilled, ran a hand over his hair, and looked at her. Was he really this fucked
up that he’d resorted to drugging and taking a woman just to get back at
someone who fucked with his club? But he shook his head, pushing those thoughts
away. He’d do anything for his club. Anything.

Chapter
Three

Angelina
slowly opened her eyes, the act harder than it should have been. Her head ached
something fierce, and the pain behind her eyes was stinging enough she closed
them once again and breathed through the discomfort. After a few moments she
opened them again. The first thing she realized was she was in a bedroom … that
wasn’t hers.

What happened?

Trying
to remember what exactly happened was hard as hell, but she thought about it,
needing to make sense of it all.

Came home.

Grabbed the wine.

Took a bath.

After
that part she was drawing a blank, and her heart started beating hard and fast.
Had she gotten drunk from the wine? She couldn’t believe she had. And even so
she’d been in
her
apartment soaking
in the tub.

What in the fuck happened?

 
Afraid to sit up just yet because of the
pounding in her head, she looked around the room as best she could. There was a
window across from her. The shades were closed, but she could see the sun
shining through the blinds. There was a dresser off to the left, a door to her
right, and … nothing else. The room was barren of anything else. She tried to
move then, knowing she needed to get up and push past any discomfort to find
answers, but when she realized she was immobile she looked down. Her legs were
bound together, and her hands were above her head, tied to the headboard.

God. What in the hell?

She
struggled to get her hands free, but a gasp of pain left her as the rope that
was used to bind her wrists dug into her flesh even harder, abrading her.

Her
heart was beating so hard it hurt, and sweat lined her brow and between her
breasts. She looked down at herself, breathing out when she realized she was at
least wearing her clothes. But who had put them on her?
 

“Hello?”
She whispered at first, not sure if she should have even said anything for fear
of who’d put her in this room and strung her up.

Silence
greeted her.

She
didn’t know what to do. Maybe screaming wasn’t the best choice given the fact
whoever had put her in this situation didn’t want her to leave. But what if
someone else could hear her, help her?

“Help,”
she screamed out, willing to take that chance. Angelina struggled harder, gritting
her teeth against the pain of the rope tightening around her wrists. She tried
in vain again to recall what in the hell happened after she’d gotten in the
bath, but the more she tried to remember, the more her head hurt. “Help,” she
cried out again. She glanced around the room once more, and even knowing what
was in the room, she looked for another way out.

First you have to get yourself
untied.

And
then, pushing past the pain to get to her memories, it sparked in her brain
like a light bulb coming on. She remembered someone coming up from behind her,
his big body dwarfing hers. He’d been in a dark t-shirt and denim, his face
hard in expression, cold in appearance. He’d held a rag over her mouth and
nose, and she hadn’t been able to help but breathe in. It had been a sickly
sweet odor, one that had made it impossible to fight him back. After that
everything had gone dark.

She’d
been taken by God only knew who, and all she could think about was the shit
that would be done to her. Was this someone getting back at her father, her
family? Was it just some run of the mill psycho? Angelina had been right about
being followed, about having that fear consume her at every turn. She should
have taken better precautions at staying safe.

I should have run.

And
then she heard the sound of heavy boots coming closer to the closed door. She
held her breath, her entire body tensing, her pulse beating hard and frantic.
Sweat started to cover her face and the back of her neck, sliding down the
valley between her breasts.

All
she could think about was what would happen.

Maybe
it wasn’t someone after her father or just a maniac. Maybe it
was
her father. Had she finally been
found? Was it his men that had done this to her? It wasn’t Sal’s normal move,
but it had been months since she’d spoken to her father, and she knew desperate
times made people do twisted things. The Cardonas weren’t known for their level
headed or rational thinking.

She
could hear the thumping of her heart beating wildly, and as she watched the
door handle turn, she felt the rise of fear to a level she’d never envisioned.

Angelina
had lived a life that was filled with violence and danger. She was used to
knowing fear was something that held people in check. But the truth of the
matter was others that wouldn’t let anything happen to her had always
surrounded her. But Angelina had hated that life, and that was why she’d left,
run from it all and was staying low.

And look at where I’m at now.

The
door pushed open, and she felt her eyes widen at the beast of a man standing in
the doorway.

It’s him, from my bathroom, the one
that drugged me.

This
man, who wore a pair of loose fitting worn-in jeans, a dark t-shirt, and a
biker leather vest, was by far the largest man she’d seen. On his vest the name
“Fury” was stitched into a patch on one side of the leather.

He
just stood there, staring at her from the doorway, and the power and strength
that came from him frightened her to the point she felt her hands shake in
their bonds.

He
didn’t say anything for long moments, and that made him all the more
frightening. She licked her lips, not knowing if she should say anything. But
then he brought his bottle of beer to his mouth and took a long drink from it
as he watched her intently.

Angelina
started to hyperventilate when he took a step closer. He walked over to the
dresser and set the bottle on it, watching her the whole time.

“What
do you want? Why am I here?” she finally managed to stutter out. She tried
moving back on the bed, instinct telling her to get away from him, but being
bound only allowed her to bend her knees.

“You’ve
been out for longer than I thought,” he said, his voice deep, serrated like a
rusty knife digging into her flesh. “Glad you came around though. I have a lot
planned for us.” He was at the edge of the bed, his arms crossed, his muscles
bulging.

She
shook her head, not sure why she was doing the act. “Why am I here?” she asked
again.

He
stayed silent for a second before speaking again. “You’re here because of your
father.” His voice was so deep she felt it throughout her whole body. He moved
to the head of the bed, and she couldn’t do anything but look up at him,
knowing her fear was clear in every part of her. He reached out, and she
flinched, not knowing if he’d hit her. But instead he grabbed a lock of her
dark hair and lifted it up, rubbing it between his fingers, staring at the
strands.

She
was frozen as she watched him.

“Your
father fucked up, and you’re the one that will help make this right.”

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered.

He
dropped the strands and looked into her eyes. “No?”

She
shook her head.

He
gave her a half smile, but it was far from amused. “Your father isn’t Sal
Cardona?” He lifted a brow.

Her
throat was closing, her tongue became thick, and her mouth dried. She knew
lying at this point might only make things worse, if that was even possible.

“I
have nothing to do with what my father does or has done. I don’t want anything
to do with him or my family.” He stayed silent, and she licked her dry lips
again. “I haven’t spoken to him or anyone from the Family in months.”

He
held her gaze, his expression unmovable. Yet he still didn’t speak.

“If
you’re trying to get even with him for something he did, I’m the last person
that can help. My father doesn’t want anything to do with me.” That last part
was a lie, because she knew her father wouldn’t let her just leave. She was
blood, in the Family for life, and her running from them had only made things
worse. But she couldn’t turn back, even if she wanted to. She didn’t want that
life, but it seemed even running couldn’t keep away the darkness that
surrounded.

“You
want me to believe you left that all behind?”

She
nodded.

“You
think your father doesn’t know where you’re at?”

She
stilled.

“If
I could find you this easily, the Cardonas have known where you’re at,
Princess.”

Could
he hear the sound of her heart beating so fast and hard? “B-believe me,” she
stuttered the words out. “My father wants nothing to do with me,” she lied
again.

“You’re
not as good a liar as you may think. If Sal’s alive he’ll want something to do
with you, especially after he realizes what I plan on doing.”

If
Sal’s alive?

She
swallowed again, not knowing if that information should have made her happy or
slightly unnerved. Her father was a hard man to kill, and she knew since she’d
witnessed three attempts to take him out.

“What
do you plan on doing with me?” Angelina was afraid to ask, but she found
herself posing the question anyway.

He
smirked again. “Princess, you’re going to help me in a lot of ways.” He winked,
and it made her stomach tightened with fear and apprehension. “Once I find out
all I need from you and your family, you’re what I’ll be using in case shit
goes ugly again with the Cardonas.”

“You’re
wasting your time with me,” she whispered again, the tears threatening to
spill.

“That’s
where you’re wrong.” He looked her up and down, and she saw a spark in his
gaze, a telling sign this wasn’t just about getting in
form
ation
about her family. “And if it’s nothing,” he said almost to himself, and looked
at her face again, a dark smile crossing his features, “then I’ll still have
some fun with you, sweet Angelina.”

She
felt her eyes widen. “Please,” she said and shook her head. “You don’t have to
do this. I don’t know anything.” She felt her tears fall then. “My father never
told me anything. I was just his daughter, not worthy of Family business.” He
had to believe her.

But
his smile faded and he looked pissed. “I deserve my vengeance because your
father and his men hurt something I hold close.”

She
shook her head, thinking of all kinds of frighteningly horrifying things this
man planned on doing with her, to her.

She’d
rather die than let any of that happen.