Brawl (29 page)

Ominously familiar.

He leaves the room and my range of sight as I’m still struggling to place him.

My handbag’s presence means my handgun and my phone are here somewhere. The first burst of real hope I've had since I regained consciousness explodes within me. If I can’t get away right now, I might be able to get to my phone to call Mik, or get to my gun to protect myself.

Duke and the blond guy whose name I haven't learned turn away from the breakfast bar, nodding to Stu in farewell. They pick Cain up by his arms and drag him through the front door, closing it without a word behind them.

My heart leaps when I don’t hear the telltale click of a lock when it engages.

Quickly glancing around for any of the remaining men, hope grows when I don’t see any of them.  Spotting my phone lying on the kitchen counter, I can hear it vibrating. I’d bet everything I own that Mik’s calling me nonstop to see where I am. My man would be home by now, and losing his mind since I’m not there when I told him I was.

Lord, I’d give anything to go back in time and wait at the office for him like he asked.

My addled mind is finding it hard to wrap itself around what’s happening. I take a few steadying, deep breaths, exhaling slowly through my nose to calm myself.

Peeking again, I see that they’re still gone.

It’s now or never to make my run for the front door.

I button my shirt up as well as I can and slip my heels off so I don’t slow myself. My favorite pair of Manolo Blahnik’s are about to be sacrificed for my escape, and my father
will
be replacing them.

Edging around the corner of the hallway, I spare one last glance in their direction before rising from my crouched position and running as fast as I can to the front door.

I make it to the front door without detection, twisting the handle of the door with urgency. My shaking hands make a mess of it, impeding my escape.

“What the hell?” a deep voice exclaims, and someone rushes toward me.

Turning the handle with increasing desperation, I squeal with delight when the door finally flies open. My first step toward freedom is aborted when I’m grabbed around the waist and slung over a large shoulder. My breath leaves me in a rush from the impact.

A large hand swats my ass with a stinging slap, causing me to gasp in shock and pain. The sudden intake of breath forces the cologne from the bedroom to flood my senses. My sedative affected mind finally remembers why the smell made me feel nauseous.

Terror rising within me, I struggle in earnest, kicking my legs and punching my captor in the back with all of my strength.

“Now, now, Lainey. Calm down, darling girl. You don’t want to end up hurting yourself, do you?” His deep, velvety smooth voice mocks me.

Realization dawning, it sinks in that my abduction has nothing to do with the MC, and everything to do with me and the stupid choice I made when I was eighteen.

No. This can't be happening.

My body shakes uncontrollably. Feeling light-headed, I’m afraid I’m going to faint.

My mind races without aim, refusing to accept the truth in front of me.

Brendan’s my worst nightmare. I’ve spent the last four years putting myself back together after escaping this man, and just as I start feeling safe in the life Mik and I’ve been building, he turns up to wreck it all.

“Put me down, Brendan. Please,” I plead in a shaky voice, scrambling to find some much-needed composure. “You’re not supposed to be anywhere near me, you know that. If you let me walk out of here now, I won’t tell the police and your parole will be safe.”

He chuckles at my request, his amusement apparent, and slowly lowers me down his body, thrusting his hard bulge against me when our pelvic areas meet. My feet have barely reached the ground before I’m backing away from him.

It’s fruitless. He won’t let me go.

Grasping the tops of my arms, he pulls me onto his lap as he sits down on the brown leather settee. All fight leaves my body at his touch, my anxious shaking increasing.

Hearing the door locks engage and buttons being pressed on a keypad, I realize that my pleas to leave are going to fall on deaf ears. I’m stuck for now—not only because of the locked door and security system—but because this man scares me to death. I know if I mess up my escape again, he’ll make me pay in a painful and humiliating way.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to your reunion,” Stu says, chuckling as he walks past us and out of sight. I stare, almost with longing after him, willing him to come back and take me with him.

He’s the lesser of the two evils facing me.

Brendan gently grasps my chin, tilting my head until I’m forced to look at him.

He looks exactly the same. His eyes are a warm chocolate brown, his skin lightly tanned, and his lips rosy pink and kissable. The dark chocolate brown hair that sets off his traditionally handsome features is still full, luscious, and wavy.

Jail hasn’t taken any discernible toll on his looks, which annoys me, because I’m certain that Mik arranged for some of the MC’s boys on the inside to visit him a few times. The evil soul that lurks behind his angelically handsome face is still safely hidden from the world.

“Lainey, what’s today’s date?” he asks, purring the words at me with sadistic pleasure.

The voice that was once one of the most pleasant sounds in the world to me now sends slivers of icy fear down my spine.

In a rush I realize the date, and tears of anger and frustration leak from my eyes. I’m angry at myself for dropping my guard. I understand now why Mik didn’t want me to go to work today.

Today is Brendan’s first day off of parole for raping and almost beating me to death just over four years ago. He was sentenced to two years in jail for my assault, with a non-parole period of eighteen months. He’s been out of jail for six months and had left me alone until now, so I’d become complacent in watching my back even if Mik hadn’t.

It’s apparent now that Brendan was waiting to be free and clear of the law before he forced our reunion.

“Ssssh, sweetheart. I'm not here to hurt you,” he soothes, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

He must think I’m crying in fear.

I jerk away from him, his touch making me feel dirty, but he curls his fingers around the tops of my arms and pulls me to his chest. Anger coils within me as I take stock of the fact that the only reason he’s sitting
here
tormenting me
now
is because I only had him charged with assaulting me on one occasion. I never told the authorities—or my family—about his repeated beatings and rapes, or his blackmail. They believe we had a one-off physical fight and that he threatened my family because I was leaving him.

That was bad enough.

There are only three other people who know the full truth of what he did to me, and that’s how I want to keep it. Mik was always adamant that I should’ve made him pay for everything, but I couldn't face the embarrassment and pity that telling the truth would bring. I also couldn't throw Benji under the bus. My reasons seem petty at this moment as I sit unwilling and scared on his lap, wishing that I’d told everyone every horrible detail.

“It’s so good to be able to touch you again, Lainey,” Brendan whispers against my cheek. “I’ve missed touching you more than you could believe. Watching you since I left that hellhole has been torture, especially knowing I had to wait until today to claim you as mine again.”

I gasp at his statement, pulling as far away from him as he’ll let me.

“How have you been watching me? Mik has precautions set up. You haven’t been anywhere near the city or we would’ve known.” The second Mik’s name falls from my lips, I know I’ve made a big mistake. He has a long history of irrational jealousy toward my fiancé.

Brendan’s face changes from loving to irate in a split second.

Letting go of my arms, he stands with calculated abruptness. I topple backward off his lap and onto the carpeted floor. Slapping me across the face twice, splitting my damaged lip further, he unleashes his anger. My face feels like a pulsing, bruised mess.

As I cower, waiting for another slap, he pulls me to my feet by the front of my shirt. I'm barely upright when he grabs my hand and tugs me behind him, through the modern kitchen and into a formal living area. I want to pull my hand from his, but it’s the only thing keeping me upright as he strides in front of me.

There’s a huge telescope pointing toward large bay windows. A room like this should be filled with expensive chaises, televisions, and coffee tables, instead it has three desks, numerous filing cabinets, and a large open gun safe lining the perimeter. The walls have paperwork and photos pinned all over them. A quick glance tells me that I’m the subject of most of the photos.

Brendan shoves me into the chair behind the telescope.

“Have a look,” he grunts. “I have been watching you, making sure that dirty biker doesn’t touch you. I was always coming back for you.
You’re mine
. You always will be, as much as you try to fight it.”

Brendan grabs me by the back of my neck and forces my face toward the eyepiece.

Resistance is futile. I learned this years ago, so I let him position my head where he wants it.

“Given your slutty tendencies, I’m not surprised you ran to him the second I was gone. You will be making up for that and every other damn thing you’ve done to me very soon,” he tells me, certainty coloring his tone.

Attempting to tune out his threats, I peer into the telescope, praying that I'm not about to see what I fear he wants to show me. No such luck since sure enough, just as I feared, the house I share with Mik stares back at me.

There’s a large nature reserve between this house and mine containing a playground, bike track, and public amenities. I can see my car in the driveway with Mik’s Harley parked next to it. Mik is pacing on the front deck, running his hand through his hair in jerky, agitated movements. His phone to his ear, I can make out his mouth moving as he speaks.

Dragging my eyes from my stressed fiancé, I take in the whole view. I can see straight through the open curtains into my living room.

Brendan has been able to see into my home for God knows how long.

The one place I’ve felt safe for the last four years hasn’t been the sanctuary I thought it was. As usual, Brendan’s managed to make my feelings of safety and freedom nothing but a pretty illusion. I didn’t think my heart could sink any further than it already had in this situation, but this revelation completely knocks the wind out of my sails.

Brendan laughs at my appalled expression, his eyes filling with enjoyment when he sees the situation become clear to me. Even though I know rationally that it's the wrong move, I can't stop myself from losing my temper.

Rising to my feet, I swing on my heel to face him.

“What is wrong with you?” I question, pushing him as hard as I can in the chest with both hands. He staggers backward a couple of steps in surprise at my attack. “Why won't you just leave me alone? You need to go away. You’re completely crazy. I’m not yours, and I never will be. I hate you!”

I swing at him, hitting him in the chest and the stomach as I unleash my fears and frustrations. Pulling my right arm back, I punch him as hard as I can in the mouth. Blood bursts from the corner upon impact. I shake my fist out, and swing again.

Five years of fear, anger, and hurt are finally finding the correct outlet.

I’m out of control, and ready to kill him with my bare hands.

I want to hit him, choke him, and humiliate him.

I want him to feel everything he made me feel.

Brendan ducks my follow-up punch and grasps me by the throat, subduing me with little effort. He forces me backward on my tiptoes until my back hits the wall. Then he lifts me until my feet are no longer touching the ground.

A sick sense of déjà vu engulfs me as my consciousness recognizes the position I’m in.

I scratch at the hand he has around my neck with both of mine, two of my fingernails snapping as I try to pull free. Kicking at him with my legs, I attempt to head butt him. I’m fighting for breath, black spots floating through my vision, but I don’t give up. Even lost in my anger, the only thought in my head is that I’m not going to let him hurt me without a fight this time.

He licks the blood from his split lip, before leaning down, and whispering in my ear, “I’ll let you hit me once without punishment, Lainey, because I know I hurt you in the past. Just this once, though. Every time you step out of line from now on, I’m going to punish you. Or one of your family.”

He licks the shell of my ear before he continues with calm menace. “Is Lachie still catching the bus to practice by himself?”

Shocked, my body falls still at his mention of my youngest brother. Brendan must be watching all of my family—not just me—to know that my fifteen-year-old brother is living in Brisbane now and catches the bus to football practice. My entire beautiful, crazy family moved down here after he hurt him for the final time.

I refused to move home, not only due to the terrifying memories they knew nothing about, but because I was determined Brendan wasn’t going to derail my plans for my future entirely.

My mind quickly dismisses his words, and I calm myself.

He doesn’t realize that one of the Club’s Enforcers escorts Lachie everywhere for this exact reason. Everyone was worried Brendan would try to use my family against me when he was freed from jail, so Mik has used the MC to put multiple layers of safety precautions in place. Lachie doesn’t know he’s being protected because of me. He’s just been told “Club business”, which is our dad’s go-to excuse when he doesn’t want to explain something.

Brendan squeezes his hand tighter around my neck and continues to torment me with his words.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Lainey? You're mine, and you're going to stay with
me
this time. The people you love are going to get hurt, one by one, every time you try to leave me.” Brendan leans down and stares at me with feral, glazed eyes. “Now nod if you get what I’m telling you. I’ll let you go when you show that you understand me.”