Riding Hot

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

Riding Hot copyright @ 2014 by Kay Perry. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

RIDING HOT

The shed was dark, and the floor was made of rough c
ement. In one corner was a man, blindfolded and bound with rope, huddled up into a ball as Lila walked in. There was no light in the shed, so she kept the door propped open with a rock, letting in a sliver of light to see what she was doing.

In fact, she didn't really
know
what she was doing. Of all the things her father had ordered her to do for the Red Angels MC, he'd never forced her to kill someone before. Apparently, this loser tied up in the corner like a pig ready for slaughter had pissed off the president of the Red Angels enough to die. Worse, he'd ordered his daughter to kill the guy herself.

But for the first time ever, Lila had been given an order that really made her stomach turn. She'd done everything for the legendary President Black; she'd sacrificed most of her life to do daddy's bidding, and all to further the interests of the club. She'd chafed under her father's controlling grip on her life, and had always ended up yielding to his wishes—but murder was a step too far for her.

What was this guy's crime, anyway? He'd ripped off the club for a crate of gun parts. Why not just kick the crap out of him and send him on his way? The cynical answer sprouted in Lila's head: control. President Connor Black knew his daughter had been getting difficult about her lack of freedom under the club's influence, so he wanted her to get her hands dirty—dirty enough to stay close to him and the club forever. He wanted her to kill this man so she'd never consider running away. Murder: one last gruesome act to bind Lila to the Red Angels and keep her from having a normal life, one last chain to forge around her neck so she could never escape. And it was the one thing she simply couldn't bring herself to do. Then and there, Lila made her decision: she turned around and left.

As Lila stormed out of the shed, Spike, her father's right hand man who was waiting for her outside, stopped her.

"I didn't hear a gunshot, sweetie pie," he said as he grabbed her arm.

Without warning, Lila wheeled round and clocked Spike over the head with the butt of the gun. As her handler lay unconscious on the ground, Lila decided to take his phone and the bag of cash they'd confiscated from the prisoner she'd just spared. She was going on the run, and she needed both money and time.

***

Lucas Grant sat alone at the bar, quietly drinking a beer. The Iron Sons clubhouse was a dismal place these days, with most of its members busy taking care of little "chores" in and out of town to keep the club afloat.

Another biker pulled up a stool next to Lucas and sat down, the word "president" emblazoned in capital letters on the back of his jacket.

"This place looks more like a dump every day," the Iron Sons president remarked.

"We'll bounce back," Lucas replied as he finished the last of his beer. "We always do."

"And, thanks to a little tipoff, we may have a way to do just that."

"Who do you need me to take care of?" Lucas asked without hesitation.

"Nobody," the president replied. "The club needs this package in pristine condition. You remember the Red Angels MC, right?"

"Those amateur pricks that muscled us out of last month's deal?" said Lucas disdainfully, "How could I forget?"

"Apparently, President Black's daughter just walked out on the Red Angels MC and hasn't been seen since this afternoon."

"Black's little girl just upped and ran?" Lucas asked in disbelief.

"That’s what we know so far," the president said. He pulled out a photograph and put it on the bar counter. "But she ain't little anymore."

The clandestine picture showed a twenty–something-year-old woman in full biker-chick gear speeding down a highway with shoulder length, red hair billowing in the wind.

"The 'red angel'?" said Lucas with a laugh after looking at the photo. "Cheesy as fuck."

"That little bitch's daddy has been pressing us way too hard for way too long," the Iron Sons president continued. "If you can get Black's little girl back here unscathed, we can use her as leverage to get the Red Angels MC to back the fuck off."

"Sounds good," Lucas answered. "How am I supposed to find her?"

"I made some calls around the area; Marty said she checked into his motel an hour ago."

"I'll get right on it," Lucas said. He got down from his stool to leave.

"Take the club van," said the Iron Sons president as he tossed Lucas a set of keys. "You'll need the extra storage space."

"Sure."

"Hey, Lucas! One more thing." Lucas stopped to hear his boss's last instructions: "We need the girl brought back here unspoiled. So don't even think about tapping her."

"Understood."

***

Lila shut the door to her motel room, locked it, and bolted it before tossing the cash-filled satchel onto the bed. She went to the bathroom and emptied the contents of her shopping bag into the sink. Lila had used some of the cash she'd taken to buy a bunch of different hair dyes, some hair gel, and a pair of scissors—enough to disguise herself and get out of the state before her father's lackeys caught up to her. She'd already gotten rid of her own cell phone so he couldn't call her. If her plan worked, she'd never have to see or hear from him again.

What the fuck was her plan, anyway? After years of being a loyal member of the Red Angels, virtually chained under her father's shadow, she'd finally just run away. Her plan was to escape President Black and his goons in the Red Angels MC. Beyond that, she didn't really have any kind of plan.

Lila looked up at her reflection. Most girls joined a motorcycle club because it was the cool and rebellious thing to do, not to mention the chance to hook up with an outlaw, daredevil biker. Lila had joined the Red Angels MC because she'd been expected to join the family business. She'd even dyed her shoulder-length hair red years ago when she'd first started doing little errands for the club. Now it was just a sick joke and she'd become the "red angel" of the club who'd been daddy's loyal puppy since her early teens. So loyal she'd even modeled her appearance for the club. One more reason to change her hair color.

A knock at the door came just as she was reaching for one of the hair dyes. She ignored it. It was probably some drunk who had couldn't remember his room number.

Another knock came, louder and more insistent.

"Fuck off!" Lila called out indignantly as she read the instructions for the hair dye.

A third knock, this time more like a pounding. Lila cursed and dropped the dye bottle in the sink and stormed over to the door. In her irritation, she didn't think to take her gun with her. She unbolted the door and opened it.

As soon as Lila had opened the door a crack, the person on the other side kicked it all the way open. Lila fell backwards onto the floor as a biker entered the room, pointing a handgun straight at her head.

"Don't move or squeal," the biker said menacingly. He shut the door behind him and locked it, keeping the gun pointed squarely at Lila's head.

Lila's body was buzzing with adrenaline, and her instincts screamed for her to make a dash for her own gun. But if she did that, she knew she was as good as dead. Against the surging tide of panic and rage, she complied with the intruder.

The man who'd stormed into her motel room was powerfully built, with a moustache and goatee that made him look oddly refined and rugged at the same time. He certainly wasn't a Red Angel. She knew every member of her father's MC, as well as most of the club's outside contacts, and he wasn't any of them. Weirder still, there were no patches on his jacket to identify which club he belonged to. If he was some kind of bounty hunter sent by her father, it begged the question why he wouldn't send his own men after her.

"Roll onto your stomach," the mystery intruder demanded.

Slowly Lila did as she was told, placing her hands behind her head. She still considered hitting the guy or making a run for it, but face down on the ground wasn't the best position to be in for either of those things. The gunman squatted down on top of her and took her wrists in his hands, binding them with a set of flexi-cuffs.

"So I'm guessing you're not a cop," Lila said as her captor lifted her to her feet.

"Did you see a badge on me?" he replied gruffly.

"Well, who do you work for then? You're obviously not a Red Angel."

"Just shut up and get on the bed."

Lila complied, sitting down on the bed as her captor searched through the bag full of cash and confiscated her gun.

"So where are you gonna take me?" Lila pressed for answers.

"I said be quiet," he replied bluntly.

"Or what?" Lila challenged him. "I'm no use to you dead or injured."

"That doesn't mean I won't hit you to shut you up."

"So who do you work for?" Lila ignored the threat and kept prying.

"I told you to be quiet!" Her captor snapped at her.

Lila suddenly brought her foot up and kicked the gun out of her captor's hand, sending it clattering across the floor. Deprived of his weapon, he lunged at Lila, who scooted backwards across the bed until she hit the wall. She tried to kick him as he approached, but he grabbed her feet and forced them out of the way. Before she knew it, her captor was lodged between her legs, pinning her thighs in place so she couldn't move.

Lila waited tensely as the man bore down on her, asserting his physical dominance. Her hands were still bound behind her back, and now his entire bodyweight, with his groin pressed against her own, compelled her submission. And yet there was something strangely arousing about her situation. In the past, she'd kicked the ass of anyone who tried to put their hands on her, and the Red Angels knew better than to hit on the boss's daughter; but being pinned so roughly in place in such a vulnerable position by this man, stirred something inside her.

Lila's captor didn't move for the longest time. Slowly, however, he started to run a hand across her thigh, then up to her waistline. Lila shivered when his fingers wormed their way gently underneath her shirt and touched the skin of her belly. Whether the shiver was due to the coldness of his hand, squirming at being touched by a stranger, or pleasure at being desired by this beast, Lila couldn't tell. Being so powerless was infuriating for her, and was made worse by the fact that her body seemed to want it even though her mind didn't.

"What's your name, stranger?" Lila asked.

"…Lucas," her captor replied after a hesitant pause.

"Well, Lucas, are you gonna fuck me before taking me to your boss?"

Since Lila was physically powerless to free herself from Lucas, she had to find some way to play with her captor's mind. As much as it galled her to use her body this way, playing on Lucas's obvious desire for her wasn't a bad start.

"No." Lucas suddenly hardened his tone. "It's time for us to go."

He slipped his hands behind Lila's back and hoisted her off the bed and onto his shoulder.

"No, wait! You can't take me away, please!" Lila said in a panic.

"I have to, sweetheart," Lucas replied in a businesslike tone. "I've got orders to follow."

"Put me down you son of a bitch!" Lila shouted. She kicked and struggled as hard as she could whilst her captor tightened his grip on her thighs.

Once Lucas had retrieved his gun and the bag full of cash, he carried his kicking and screaming package past the front desk and out to the van. Fighting against her struggles, Lucas put another set of flexi-cuffs around her ankles and applied a chloroform-soaked cloth to her mouth to silence her increasingly annoying shrieks. In any case, she was wasting her breath. The guy at the front desk had good dealings with the Iron Sons MC, and had even given them the initial tipoff about the Red Angels' runaway golden girl. Plus, there was no one around for miles to hear Lucas's captive's cries for help. In no time, they were on the road again for the long drive back to the Irons Sons' clubhouse.