“Round up the pups.”
“On it,” Bowie muttered, shouldering through the crowd.
The big man had taken no more than half a dozen steps when the crowd shifted and Tyson turned right into Rhys. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Zeke would’ve laughed watching their expressions go from apologetic, to surprise and then straight to hatred in a span of three seconds. Muttering a string of obscenities under his breath, he shouldered his way through the crowd with Reaper on his heels.
A two handed shove to the chest knocked Rhys backward into Mox. The ox didn’t budge giving his brother a solid launching pad to come back at Tyson with a shot that knocked the older man on his ass. Mox stepped forward at the distinctive snap of a blade opening, but Bowie’s big boot stomped down on Tyson’s wrist effectively disarming him. Kicking the knife away, the towering redhead moved in front of the younger Lords even as a swarm of Tarantula’s came to Tyson’s aid.
Scrambling to his feet the former Lord backed into the safety of his new brethren. Eyes lighting on the snarling blonde it only took a moment to recognize those features. He glared at Brawer’s brat and the mammoth men flanking him. He hadn’t placed the kid before, just the cut, but the instant interference from the Lord’s vice president made sense now. Bowie had always taken care of Zeke’s dirty work. His eyes shifted to the mass of muscle on the other side. The Sampson kid had gotten even bigger since last Tyson had seen him.
Lords seemed to materialize out of nowhere. A ripple went through the crowd, a circle clearing around the two clubs. Zeke stepped up with a friendly smirk.
“Tyson.”
“Zeke.”
“Not the time nor the place.”
“Tell your puppy to watch where he’s walking.”
“I know it’s difficult for you, but try to be a man.”
Tyson’s retort was cut short by a sharp chop of his president’s hand through the air in front of them.
“That’s enough. Brawer’s right. This isn’t the time or the place to bring up the past. Enjoy the hog roast, gentlemen.”
Zeke ignored the odd grumble in the Tarantula ranks and the venomous fury of his former brother, shaking the Chapter president’s hand. Offering matching well wishes, he backed into the Lord’s ranks and draped an arm over Rhys’ shoulders before leading them back toward the food tables.
“That’s it? He tried to rape Ma and we walk away?”
“This is a charity ride. All personal beefs are set aside. Besides, we’re not in Trinity, Toto.”
“Cute, but what does that have to do with what he did?”
“It has nothing to do with what he did. He was stripped of his cut and told not to come back to Trinity Falls. This isn’t Trinity Falls.”
Rhys bit back another question, blowing out his breath in frustration. It was obvious from his father and president’s tone there would be no further discussion on the matter. Ducking out from under the restraining arm he went in search of something to help him cool off.
Mox glanced at Zeke and then followed in his brother’s wake.
“Keep an eye on them,” Zeke said with a resigned sigh.
Ginny sipped her mimosa with a satisfied smirk. The girl’s spa weekend was a total success. Everyone looked happy and relaxed.
“You are a genius,” Kat purred beside her as the manicurist massaged her calf muscles.
“This is so much better than crepe paper pacifiers, pastel balloons and the name the baby paraphernalia game. Why didn’t you think of this in time for my twins?”
“With old age comes wisdom and treachery,” Ginny said with a wink, catching the towel Amber threw at her. “Look at it this way. Now we get to enjoy the spa baby shower as friends of the mommy without labor and two o’clock feedings.”
“You’re a wise one,” Amber giggled.
“Some friends you are,” Kat snorted.
“Crux has to do something besides the initial fornicating.”
“True. Think he will buy that I need another spa weekend to recover?”
“It’s worth a shot and don’t forget that it’s not safe to go alone so we all have to come along.”
“I would suggest you spring this on him right around the six week mark. He will be so horny he will agree to anything that makes you happy.”
“I want to be as wise and treacherous as you someday!”
“I notice you didn’t say old.”
Even the staff laughed at the ladies biting banter. The diverse group was a riot.
After their morning pampering the girls gathered in the posh suite Kat and Ginny were sharing for a decadent breakfast and baby presents.
“Please tell me he is one of my gifts,” Kat begged, giving the chef who was preparing crepes in-suite for them a squeeze and tracing a newly manicured nail over his well-defined pecs with a lascivious look at her girlfriends. “All this and he cooks too.”
The poor man blushed, but grinned, dark eyes sparkling.
“You think the guys would notice? Maybe we can share him.”
“I think Reaper would notice a man in his kitchen,” Lee giggled. “Maybe not until after his first cup of coffee, but definitely then.”
“An extra girl we could sneak by him, but another dick Bowie would notice.”
“I knew letting Samuel move in was a bad idea.”
“Well if it’s not Franco here then what did you get me? Let’s get to the presents. It’s all about me!”
“Enjoy that thought while you can. Once that little one gets here it will be all about them.”
“Crux might think he rules the roost now, but once the little one gets here, it’s all over.”
“Look at the way Kennedy wraps Taz around her little pinky.”
“What part of ME are you cheapskates missing out on? Bring on the baby bling!”
“Oh for God’s sake let her open her gifts,” Ginny said, hustling the mommy of honor into an overstuffed chair with a wink.
Kat’s bluster fell away to genuine surprise and embarrassment when the gifts piled up around her chair.
“There is only five of you and one baby on the way. What did you guys do?”
“We haven’t had a baby to buy for in a while. Forgive us if we went a little overboard,” Amber giggled.
“This one is from everyone at The Lantern,” Ginny defended, her hazel eyes sparkling.
“And yet I see multiple other gifts with that special Ginny ribbon work on them.”
“So you’re my employee, club sister, and best friend. Sue me.”
“You girls are too much. Thank you.”
“Open them already!”
Ginny dropped her bag near the hamper and collapsed onto their bed. Why was it that as fun as it was to get away, coming home always felt so good? Gunny nuzzled her knee with a whine and Ginny patted the bed beside her.
“Come on, baby, the big man’s not here,” she whispered to the loyal Mastiff. The big dog leapt up and curled beside her, his square head resting on her belly. Rubbing his ears, she hugged him tight, giving him some loving after being away for the weekend. Finally she nudged him off her, dropping a kiss on top of his brindled head. “I’m going to get a shower and I’ll be right back.”
Freshly showered Ginny pulled one of Zeke’s Harley Davidson t-shirts over her head. Smoothing the soft cotton down her thighs she smiled. Zeke always said his shirts looked a hell of a lot better on her than they did on him. Gunny was still sprawled on the bed. Shutting off the light, she slipped between the sheets. Rolling to her side she draped an arm over her furry companion, missing the man who would be home soon to warm her bed.
Gunny’s snarl and the shift of the King size bed as he launched his hundred and eighty pounds woke Ginny. Muzzle flash blinded her. Twisting franticly for the nightstand drawer her hammering heart broke at Gunny’s pitiful yelp. Her groping fingers closed around the Glock a moment before something heavy slammed against her temple.
Her head pounded, bile burning the back of her throat. Pitch black, she couldn’t see a thing. A stinging slap startled a cry from her. Trying to curl she found arms and legs restrained. Hard plastic cut into her wrists and ankles as she struggled. Hunching a shoulder she tried to rub her face against it and dislodge the blindfold. Another slap snapped her head around and she felt something, maybe blood, trickling from her nose. Fear constricted her throat. What time was it? Where the hell was Zeke?
A brutal fist buried in her gut driving air from her lungs. Her body fought to pull into a fetal position, but the biting restraints allowed little wiggle room. Something hard pressed between her lips and she tried in vain to push it back out with her tongue. He lifted her head securing what she recognized as a ball-gag.
HE
. The word screamed in her mind. She knew it was a man, but who?
A low chuckle sounded in her ear as if he read her mind. Something wet touched her ear tracing the delicate shell. Was it his tongue? She flinched away, rubbing her ear against the pillow with a shudder. Her disgust seemed to anger him. A closed fist glanced off her cheekbone a flash of light exploding behind her closed lids. She struggled to remain conscious, shaking her head weakly.
Blows rained down. Blind she couldn’t even see where the next shot would land. Tears streamed down her face and she screamed for Zeke behind the gag. Her husband’s name on her lips only served to infuriate her captor. A silencing punch to the jaw had Ginny reaching for the comfort of darkness. Something cold and probing between her thighs snapped her back.
“The third time is a charm,” he whispered with a malevolent chuckle.
Bowing off the bed, she pulled at her bonds with all her strength. Her scream was pure fury as she was impaled. Her body protested the monstrous invader that both stretched her and tested the limits of her depth. Hard and unyielding it tore at her insides. Startled to feel the brush of his thighs against hers she realized it had to be a strap-on or sleeve of some type that was ramming into her. Nubs on the thick circumference abraded the tender walls of her tunnel, but she nearly laughed to realize her impotent attacker couldn’t command Zeke’s length even with a toy. She screamed at him, praying her withering insults would be intelligible, wanting to hurt him any way she could.
It seemed to last forever, the pant of his labored breath scalding against her skin. Something trickled between her thighs, pooling in the crack of her ass. Please don’t let it be blood. Her stomach cramped painfully. Thankfully, he was tiring, his thrusts becoming awkward. Showing his frustration he was resorting to grunting lunges. If his hope was getting his rocks off or further hurting her Ginny didn’t know or fucking care. She just wanted the bastard out of her.
A backhand ripped her from the cocoon of her thoughts. She gagged, the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth. Her stomach heaved and she fought frantically not to throw up behind the ball-gag. ‘Please, God, not like this,’ she prayed. She choked on bits of broken tooth, closing her eyes tight behind the blindfold in desperation. Fresh tears coursed down her bruised and swollen cheeks and she tried to hold back a sob as he pushed her t-shirt up. Gloved hands groped her full breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples until her back bowed off the bed in agony. He slapped first one and then the other. The leather gloves sounded loud in the quiet bedroom. Her tits stung and then throbbed as he continued to abuse the tender globes.
A raw scream ripped from her as the next blow was delivered with a closed fist. She hunched her shoulders in, rocking uselessly from side to side in a bid to ease the pain. The punches kept coming, pummeling her chest and face. She thought she heard a crack as her nose flattened. Pain lanced through her. Blood gushed, streaming into her open mouth, draining down her throat as she sputtered helplessly. He was on her chest now. It was so hard to breathe. He was still hitting her. She was afraid he wasn’t going to stop until…
Please don’t let my boys find me.
An uneasy prickle at the nape of his neck made Zeke reach for his Glock. Waving a hand at the boys, he entered the house in an experienced crouch. Clearing the dining room with a sweep of his eyes, he moved through the kitchen to the living room. Everything was in place and yet his gut screamed something was wrong. The master bedroom door was closed and Gunny nowhere in sight. It wasn’t unusual for the loyal pet to sleep in with Gin when he wasn’t home. Walking quickly down the hall he reached for the door handle and froze. A dark smear marred the gleaming brass knob. He nudged the door open and his whole world fell out from underneath him.
The comforter and sheets were wadded in disarray, crimson staining the pale material and the two bodies wrapped in them. Years of training helped him skirt the puddles at his feet, but his hand shook as he peeled back the coverings. Gunny lay half over his mistress, his sleek brindled fur matted and stained. Gin had been beaten so badly even he barely recognized her. Slipping fingers to her throat he felt for a pulse, not even daring to breathe himself as he searched for the tiny flutter of life. He fumbled for his phone. It was weak, but his badass bride was still with him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Zeke sat slumped over his knees, his head in his hands. Cops, club brothers and sisters, and even his kids gathered forgotten around him. Rage warred with fear, thrumming through his powerful body like a Malotov cocktail. Graphic images flashed behind closed eyes. Ginny’s high cheekbones split from heavy blows, her features made nearly unrecognizable by the swelling, bruising and smear of blood, mottled black and blue staining her torso, coloring her golden skin like paisley tattoos. How much of the blood streaking her body was hers and what belonged to Gunny? His hands shook with grief and the need to avenge his wife.
He swallowed the raw lump of agony burning his throat, lips twisting in a caricature of humor. The hell with revenge, he didn’t want to live without Ginny. Marine, decorated detective, club president, even father, none of those compared to being Ginny’s husband. He had never loved anything the way he loved her. He had wanted a lot of women, but she was the only one he wanted forever. Squeezing his eyes closed against the prick of tears, he did something he hadn’t done in years. He prayed.