Property of Drex (Book 1) (Death Chasers MC Series) (10 page)

Chapter 18

EVE

I won’t lie and say a pang of jealousy didn’t hit me hard and painfully at the sight of the girl on his lap when I came back from cleaning up. After just fucking me, he had a stripper in his lap.

It. Sucked.

Drex walks out of the garage—yes, the strip club has a massive storage garage for their bikes—and puts his hand on my back, guiding me to the back of a black SUV as it rolls up beside us. A guy I haven’t met cocks an eyebrow when he sees me climb in. He adjusts in the driver’s seat, turning around and opening his mouth to speak, when Drex cuts him off.

“She’s mine, Levi. Don’t even think about it.”

I’m
his
but he’s not
mine
. Even though he sent the stripper away—just as Sarah said he would—it was still a reminder that I’m letting myself get too close. My twisted mind keeps thinking of this as a relationship instead of the fucked-up-ness that it is.

The guy driving gives me a surprised look, then he frowns as he watches Drex pull me into his lap.

“When’d you take on a stray?” Levi drawls, his eyes raking over me once again. “She looks a little too sweet for you.”

Again, this dress felt so much sexier at the beginning of the night. By comparison to all the women inside the
club
, I really do look like I just escaped a convent.

Drex looks me over, and I pretend to be oblivious to his appraisal.

“She’s definitely sweet,” he says with a smirk I can feel.

I flush from head to toe, but remain silent. He’s irritated that I’m being like this, but I have to keep my distance—emotionally. Physically, he can do anything he wants with my body. It’s something I need to learn to separate—emotional and physical.

His lips find my shoulder as he flips my hair out of the way. Several others join us in the SUV as I lean back against Drex, enjoying the way his lips feel against my skin. His hand starts traveling up my leg, bringing some of the dress with it, and I immediately still, praying he doesn’t fuck me in the car for everyone to see.

He chuckles against my skin before pressing another kiss to my shoulder, acting as though he can read my mind and knows my fears. Fortunately, it’s a quick ride back to their warehouse/garage/short-term apartments, and Drex doesn’t attempt to humiliate me in front of everyone.

As everyone starts climbing out, I shift off Drex’s lap to do the same. Once we’re out, he casually drops an arm around my shoulders as we walk in, and I try not to stumble to a halt when I see tons of new faces inside the massive living area downstairs.

It’s a good thing this place is huge.

I want to ask what’s going on, but I know better.

“Drex,” a guy says, his beard sticking out everywhere as he walks toward us.

Why are all these guys so tall? Is there like a height requirement for bikers in this club or something?

“Jessie, what’s going on?” Drex asks, his voice even as his arm around me tightens.

The tall, bearded, muscled-all-to-hell guy lets his eyes rake over me from head to toe. I almost feel a slime trail in his gaze’s wake when he finally looks back at Drex.

“We have a problem. Cops raided one of our warehouses upstate. They had warrants, but they didn’t find anything. We don’t even know how the fuck they got them without us being tipped off first.”

Drex’s arm drops from me, and he curses while running a hand over his spiked hair, messing it up. There are a lot of men here, a few women, and a lot of eyes are focused this way.

“Get everyone to meet me in the office,” Drex tells the guy, then he turns toward me as the muscled-up creep gives me one last wicked grin before walking away.

I shudder, but I know I don’t have to worry about anything. I’m Drex’s, and he’s made it clear he won’t be sharing me.

“Head up to my room. Don’t come back down. Just wait on me to get done.”

I tilt my head, studying his serious face.

“Everyone’s going to be in the office, so I should be fine, shouldn’t I?”

He almost seems amused by that question.

“When I told him to get everyone, I meant everyone important. So this place will be crawling with people who don’t know you. Most of these guys are from different charters. Pop is probably on his way by now, and his crew will be here, too. Just stay upstairs.”

I nod, suddenly feeling uneasy, but my stomach growls, which draws a frown from Drex.

“I’ll send Axle up with some food. He’ll be finished with this shit before I am.”

He slides his hand down my back, steering me toward the stairs. I try to ignore all the curious eyes and catcalls that emerge behind us. I only catch a glimpse of Mr. Muscle staring at me as he speaks to Mack.

I hate Mack.

Drex slaps my ass, startling me, but he chuckles as he walks away. I practically sprint up to the room.

As soon as I’m inside, I breathe a little easier. Then I lock the door so I can keep breathing easier. It’s obvious Drex doesn’t want me in on the conversations.

It doesn’t take but a few minutes before the music is blaring downstairs. I peek out the door, curious when I hear a lot of loud cheering and roaring applause.

My stomach tilts when I see some of the strippers dancing into the opening below, including
Elise,
who was straddling Drex earlier. I feel like I’m watching life go on from a bird’s nest. But this isn’t the life I envisioned for myself.

The men all seem happy to have the women coming in and dancing on them. Sarah is serving everyone drinks, and no one is messing with her.

I shut the door again, lock it—of course—and I lean against it while staring at the wall across from me. Drex gave me a phone, but I haven’t used it yet. I don’t want them hearing me talk to my mom, and it alerts them every time I make a call.

Or so they say.

I’d rather not risk it and draw attention to her.

Drex will probably be downstairs for a while, so it might be a good idea to go to sleep. If he wants me bad enough, he can wake me. But I have a feeling he might finish what he started with Elise, and I’d rather not be awake for that.

Ice runs through my veins as a thought crosses my mind. What if… What if he wants a threesome?

I’m going to be sick.

A knock sounds at the door, distracting me before I can vomit. I’m not experienced enough for this. Why did I think I could handle being someone’s sex slave?

Expecting Axle and a tray of food I won’t be able to eat, I open the door, but my eyes widen in surprise when I see the muscled meathead instead.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, smirking while the devil dances in his eyes. I stumble backwards when he pushes inside the room, seeming eerily calm and composed.

He’s not carrying a tray of food, that’s for damn sure.

“Well, well, well. We were offered a toy from the Hell Breathers and I’m just finding out?”

I quickly put the length of the room between us, and my heart hammers in my ears when I hear the
click
of the door shutting behind him.

I swallow against the lump in my throat before shakily telling him, “I’m Drex’s. Not the club’s.”

It’s a futile declaration, because he doesn’t seem the least bit deterred.

“No,” he drawls. “You were given to Herrin. He gifted you to Drex. And we all share shit unless it’s our old lady. You, little girl, are Drex’s toy. Not his woman. He won’t mind, I assure you.”

He moves, and I suddenly feel my back against the wall, alerting me to the fact I’ve run out of room to retreat.

“He’s told everyone not to touch me. I’m his, damn it! I’m not a toy.”

I’m a fucking toy, and he knows it, because he smirks to silently tell me as much.

“He’ll be pissed,” I prattle on, not ready to go down without a fight. I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching me. I won’t… I won’t survive this if it happens. I’ll be as damaged and broken as I feared in the beginning.

“He’ll get over it,” the meathead says before diving toward me.

I scream, praying it can be heard over the music as I dart across the bed, hoping I reach the door before he catches me. But a strong, rough hand clamps around my ankle, jerking me back before I can make it to the other side.

I bounce to the bed, and then get dragged backward despite the fight I put up in vain. I kick wildly with my free foot, but it only connects with an impenetrable wall of muscle, forcing streaks of pain to shoot up my leg. My attempts of escape are mocked with rumbled laughter as he easily pins me down, pushing my front side firmly into the mattress.

Struggling to get away, I scream again when his hands clamp down on my hips, jerking me back even more until my knees are touching air and he’s positioning himself between my legs.

“Don’t! Please, don’t!” The choked sob and desperation in my tone only provokes more laughter from the coldhearted son of a bitch.

He pins me with his weight when he drops down on top of me, and I hear the sickening, gut-roiling sensation of his hands moving between us, pushing his jeans down.

The smell of sweat, beer and smoke drench every breath I manage to get under his suffocating weight.

“Calm down, girl. You’ll like it,” he says through laughter.

Hot tears soak my face, and my voice turns into a hoarse cry when hope dims. But just as the sick fuck gets his pants down, the door bursts open, and an angry Axle storms into the room.

Oh no. Not him, too. I can’t… I can’t…

I start hyperventilating, but before I can go into a full-blown panic attack, Axle storms across the room, and his fist collides with the sicko’s face. At least I assume it’s his face.

Something wet splashes on me, as the weight on my back disappears. My lungs greedily suck in the fresh, cleaner air that isn’t tainted by his stench. It almost hurts when I get too much air at once, and I cough while dropping to the floor.

It’s then I realize the wet sensation I felt on my legs was blood spewing.

“You stupid little shit!” Sicko roars, but I don’t look at him. I never want to see him again. “I’ll have your ass for this. You don’t fuck with me!”

“Get the hell out of Drex’s room now! You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t fucking kill you for this, you stupid bastard.”

I hear rustling of movements, but I still can’t look up. I pull my knees to my chest, burying my head in the crook of my arm as I sob uncontrollably, buckling as reality crashes down on me hard.

I hear more talking, possibly yelling, but it all seems to muddle together, forming nothing more than distant white noise. No coherent sound creeps in until I hear the slam of the door, which forces me to jolt and snap my eyes up.

Axle is alone with me, the muscle in his jaw jumping as anger visibly vibrates through him. He stalks toward me, but I whimper and burrow farther into the side of the bed, thumping against the nightstand in the process.

He halts immediately, and a flash of pity crosses his eyes before he takes slow steps backwards. “Sorry, Eve,” he says gently.

I shiver, but words don’t leave my lips. There’s no telling how broken my voice would sound right now.

“Look, I just want to make sure he didn’t do anything. Can you stand?” he asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.

I shake my head, slinking back once again when he takes a step forward. He curses before running a hand through his hair, before turning his back.

He doesn’t say anything else as he leaves me alone in the room, shutting the door on his way out. This time, my sobs come out louder as I fall apart.

Chapter 19

DREX

“Good news is, the feds didn’t find anything,” Pop says while taking a seat at the head of the table.

We’ve already gone over numerous possible scenarios of what would happen if they realized the vehicles were designed to conceal drugs, weapons, or what the hell ever else someone wants to store.

That’s not our concern. We work in the gray area, not buying or selling drugs or weapons, not distributing them or transporting them, but giving them concealment.

I fold my hands together as the wheels turn in my head. “We must have an informant of some kind that’s giving them tips. But apparently the informant doesn’t know what we’re doing, or they’d have known which spots in the warehouse to check. We call them hidden rooms for a reason.”

Pop nods at me, as though he’s already considered the same thing.

“Which means it’s no one in this room.”

I glance around to the fifteen people sitting at the table with us. Rush leans up, propping his elbows up. I hate it when he’s around, and it looks like he’s about to be here on a more permanent basis.

“I think we should lie low for a while,” Rush says. “At least until we find out who is feeding the feds info. It has to be someone low in ranks, or someone we work with in some form.”

We work with too many people to narrow down that list very quickly, but the fed isn’t directly in our outfit. I’d know it. I’m not dumb like Benny who trusts anyone in his inner circle based off a few loyal shows. Hell, I barely trust the ones who have been in our circle since before I was born.

I never trusted Aaron Marks. I liked him, but I didn’t trust him.

“That’ll take ages,” Pop says on a sigh. “We can’t lie low that long, because our clientele will be gone when we decide to return. Not to mention, it’ll make them leery of trusting us if we just pull out when the heat strikes. We just need to snuff out our rat, and keep all our meetings much more discreet than we already do.”

Rush nods, even though he doesn’t seem to particularly agree. A prison term isn’t on his to-do list, so obviously he’s worried.

He’s young—younger than me. The only reason he’s managed to make our circle is because he’s Sledge’s unofficially adopted son, and he’s been a Death Dealer since he was fourteen after running away from his foster family.

“What about your girl?” Rush asks, suddenly looking at me with an I’m-calling-you-out attitude. “She been contacting anyone?”

I really don’t like the accusatory tone in his voice. He’s too cocky with me, acting as though we’re on the same playing field.

We’re not even in the same league.

“She hasn’t made the first call since she’s been here. I’d know it if she had.”

The music thumping outside the doors is almost muted, and it’s not because they aren’t blasting the speakers. It’s because this room is almost soundproofed, assuring we have confidentiality in here.

“You sure?” Rush challenges, cocking an eyebrow at me in a way that has me clenching my fists.

If he wasn’t Sledge’s son… Ah, fuck it.

I stand and he stands at the same time, both of our chairs scraping the floor. We’ve never really gotten along, but he’s never provoked me like this.

“This is my point,” he says, gesturing toward me. “You’ve gotten attached to the girl, because you’re standing here, ready to fight me for insinuating she might be the leak.”

Pop breaks the tension with a riotous outbreak of laughter, and suddenly most of the others are joining in.

“Drex isn’t attached to the damn girl,” Pop says. “Even if he was attached, do you honestly think he’d let her roam freely and speak to whomever? He’s had his eyes on her or his dick inside her the entire time.”

His humor fades toward the end, and Rush drops back down to his chair, chastened. I don’t need my pops fighting my battles for me, but apparently he knew I was about to kick Rush’s ass.

Pop eyes me, letting me know he wants my temper under control. If we were alone, Rush would be a bloody mess on the floor right now.

“The point is, we have a leak somewhere. Find out where. And get your girl some ink,” Pop says, surprising me. “Heard about the scuffle you had in front of the feds tonight. If you don’t want people touching your shit, then you need to have it marked.”

I groan while dropping my head back, but I nod instead of explaining myself.

“We’ll draw up a plan of action, and I’ll see to more discretion within the club here from now on,” I announce, getting the main discussion back on the table.

“Fight!” The exclamation of that word manages to penetrate the almost soundproof room, because several people scream it at once.

Pop looks at me then at the rest of the table, before rolling his eyes and standing up when the chant outside the doors grows louder and louder.

“It’s like a group of fucking kids. You can’t leave them alone for long.”

Sledge laughs at Pop’s comment while standing, and I pretend not to see the way Sledge slaps Rush across the back of the head on his way by. Maybe people wouldn’t act like kids if the old shits didn’t treat everyone like kids.

Pop yanks open the door. I follow behind him and Sledge just in time to see Axle land a fist against Jessie’s side, sending the big ape flailing to the ground.

Axle is half the bulk of Jessie; however, he’s ten times as lethal. But Axle
never
fights unless he’s passed the point of pissed off or someone has touched him. What the hell?

“Let’s try this again,” Axle growls. “Admit you’re a slimy, raping motherfucker, and I might not continue to kick your ass like it’s my sole purpose in life.”

My blood chills in my veins. Axle has severe issues with guy’s forcing themselves on girls. It’s one of the many reasons he rides with me. It’s why he pledged loyalty to me a long time ago, but he refuses to work directly under my father since Pop doesn’t stop his guys from being a stereotype.

“Who the hell did he touch?” Sledge asks, a growl in his voice.

He looks toward Liza immediately, but she shrugs, averting her eyes from mine the second they accidentally find my gaze. That’s when my pulse rattles around in my ears, and I feel heat climbing up my limbs when Liza’s eyes then move toward my closed door at the top of the stairs.

I almost feel like I’m coming out of my skin as I stalk toward Jessie, who is pulling himself off the floor, calling Axle a string of names that don’t even make a damn bit of sense.

Before he can charge Axle, I grab him back by the scruff of his neck, and toss him to the floor like he’s a weak shit instead of a raging bull. He turns, rage seething from him, but the second his eyes reach mine, fear instantly flicks across his features.

“Who did you fucking touch?” I bark, barely keeping myself from reaching for Dash’s gun beside me.

If he fucked her, I’ll kill him. There’s no question about it. I almost want to kill him for thinking of touching her.

“She’s a fucking Marks,” Jessie growls, fear replaced by anger once again as he leaps to his feet, glaring down at me since he has at least a good two inches of height on almost everyone in the room.

I snap. My fist flies and connects with his face, pummeling his cheek so hard that I feel something break under the contact. I’m not sure if it’s my hand or his jaw that just broke, but it doesn’t stop me from landing punch after punch.

Every sound around us drowns down, and Jessie barely manages to connect a few weaker, less strategic hits on me. Either he hits like a bitch, or I’m too pissed to feel anything.

“Enough!” Pop roars, but I’ll be damned if he stops me. This is my warehouse. My club. And that’s my fucking girl in my fucking room.

Hands are suddenly grappling me, hauling me off Jessie as he falls to the floor. His eyes roll back in his head as he passes out. His jaw is definitely broken, but my hand is aching. It’s the only pain I feel.

“We can’t even have a damn meeting without you assholes acting like dumb fucks,” Pop says, shaking his head as his furious gaze turns to me. “And, Drex, what the hell?” he growls.

I glare over at him, and I see Rush has a cocked eyebrow, as if to say, “I fucking told you so.” But I ignore him and Pop’s disappointed face.

“He touched what was mine, and you think I should just let him? I don’t let people disrespect me in my own house.” It’s all I can do to speak. I need to go check on Eve, but I don’t want anyone seeing her as my weakness.

She’s not. At least, she shouldn’t be.

Something about her delicate innocence seems to always make my protective instincts roar to life. And Jessie… That fucker needs to die.

“Get Jessie home,” Pop says on a sigh, talking to one of his men. “And let’s wrap this party up before more testosterone is flying. We’ll resume this meeting at another time.”

I shrug off the assholes holding me, and I walk over to Axle who is still glaring at Jessie like he wants him dead as badly as I do.

“What’d he do?” I demand.

Axle’s jaw tenses before he looks at me. “I don’t know. She’s terrified right now, and she freaked out when I tried to talk to her. I came up to find out what she wanted to eat since the girls brought so much food, but I found him behind her, her dress raised up, and his pants down.”

My stomach lurches, and he pauses, bracing himself for me to explode. Somehow I rein it in, and he continues.

“I didn’t see much before I was on him, knocking him off her. She’s not speaking.”

Fuck!

I turn, ready to finish off Jessie, but Pop is right there, pushing me back as though he was expecting it.

“I’ll handle Jessie. He’s mine. You go check on the girl; make sure she’s not broken.”

For the first time in my life, I actually want to punch my own father. None of my guys would have tried this shit because I don’t allow it. I don’t tolerate that fucking shit.

Instead of trying deal with Pop while I’m still fuming, I turn around and jog toward the stairs. I take three steps at a time, hurtling myself toward the room.

The second the door opens, I hear a whimper, and my stomach sinks when I see her tear-streaked cheeks, red-rimmed eyes, and bruised arms. The need to fucking hit something almost strangles me, and I have to fight off the vibrating fury that is racing through my veins.

She’s huddled in the corner, making herself as small as possible, and acting as though she can’t see me. As I walk into the room and shut the door, she burrows her head against her arm, slinking back as far as she can. Another whimper escapes her, and I’m forced to swallow a lump in my throat.

I almost sprint toward her, but the second I touch her, she squeals and tries to wrench away.

“Fuck. Eve, it’s me. It’s Drex,” I tell her, keeping my voice low, not expecting it to matter.

But it does.

The second she hears my voice, her head pops up, and those watery green eyes meet mine with so much relief. A small piece of something inside my chest breaks free, and an ache instantly forms.

Rarely ever does someone look relieved to see me, and those protective instincts are suddenly on high alert.

She throws her arms around my neck, almost knocking me backward since I’m off balance in this kneeling position.

As I stand, she practically climbs up me until her legs are firmly strapped around my waist, and she’s shivering like it’s subzero temperatures in here.

“I’ve got you,” I soothe, rubbing her back.

She clings to me, digging her nails in as though she’s a cat in water, and it’s the only thing keeping me from going downstairs and blowing out Jessie’s brains right now.

I don’t give a damn who her father is, she doesn’t deserve this. There’s no doubt in my mind that Eve had no clue about her dad’s dealings with us, just based on how terrified and unversed she is with the club.

Even if she did know, even if she was a spy sent to take us down, I still wouldn’t allow something like this to happen to her. Fucking bastards.

“What’d he do?” I ask, wondering if I can even allow myself to hear it.

“He didn’t… He tried… Axle stopped him before he could,” she whispers, her voice tremulous and almost too quiet to be heard, and the words break until she can’t speak any longer.

But I almost sag in relief. He didn’t get to touch her.

Mentally, I remind myself to thank Axle later. Jessie should thank him too. As of right now, he’s the only reason Jessie is still breathing.

“I have to get out of this. It smells like him.” The disgust and brokenness of her tone has my rage once again brewing close to the surface.

She slides down my body, and I feel more anger surge through me when her eyes flick to the door, as though she’s worried someone else might be in here. Her nails dig into my forearms as she presses her shaking body against me.

“I can promise no one is stupid enough to come in here.”

Slowly, her eyes meet mine, and she blows out another relieved breath. Her hands are shaking so bad that she keeps dropping the hem of her dress, so I reach down and tug it over her head.

I expect that to be enough, but it’s not. She immediately starts fumbling with her bra, and I reach around, undoing it with one hand to help her out.