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Cursing her desire to finish the last details on her clandestine report, Ivy carefully stowed the printed page in the desk and grabbed her purse and coat to leave. She was still trying to prove to the bank president that he hadn’t made a mistake in hiring a twenty-eight-year-old as the bank manager. The interior of the building was eerily quiet with only a few lights on inside as she walked to the back door. Cautiously, she looked out the security peephole before dashing outside and pushing the door closed behind her.
They were on her before she stepped forward. Two, maybe three men slammed her against the bricks before grabbing her arms behind her back. A scream burst from her lips and echoed against the surrounding buildings. One powerful hand held her head restrained from looking at them with a painful yank on her ponytail.
Tears burst into her eyes, and Ivy tried to blink them away. “You’re on security cam. I don’t know what you mean to do, but facial recognition will have you identified in a flash. Let me go and I won’t say a thing.”
“Right…” One deep voice drew out that word sarcastically.
Damn, that didn’t work. Would her scream bring anyone? She could hear faint wisps of music from The Hangout, about three blocks away.
“You’re going to tell us the bank codes to get in and then you’ll walk us inside to collect access to a few accounts for us,” another voice informed her with clipped military precision.
“The bank is on a time lock. Once the last person leaves, it won’t open until tomorrow morning when the bank opens,” she told them quickly, making up an excuse to keep them from forcing her back into bank.
“And I’m sure, Ms. Bank Manager, you have the skills to override that.”
“I don’t. I’m just the manager. I do the paperwork. The bank president can do that, but not me,” she rushed to correct them.
“Tell us the door code and we’ll just wander around inside to see what we find,” the first voice instructed.
“I can’t do that. I’ll lose my job,” she protested. The yank to her hair informed her they didn’t care. “Besides, I just changed the code. I don’t remember it.”
Another vicious jerk on her ponytail brought more tears to her eyes. “I think it’s time to teach this bitch a lesson. We have just become your worst nightmare. You’re going to work for us, Ms. Bank Manager, from now on. That is, if you survive this lesson of what we’re capable of.”
Strong hands jerked her wrists harder behind her and tied them tightly with a rope. She bit her lip as the rough fibers bit into her skin. A ripping sound came from behind her, and a large hand reached in front of her to slap a piece of duct tape over her mouth. Her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest.
She panicked as rough fabric draped over her face. Thrashing her body from side to side, Ivy felt her hair tearing from her scalp. Scared beyond thought, she wet herself.
“Get her legs tied.”
They lifted Ivy effortlessly, flipping her horizontally and lowering her to the cement. She landed with a thud, and the air flooded out of her nostrils when they dropped her several inches. While she recovered her breath, they stripped her shoes off and bound her feet close to her hands.
“Pissed all over herself,” one guy said, sounding divided between pride and disdain as he finished pulling the bag around her body.
When it pulled together below her knees, Ivy knew they’d knotted the burlap around her. She prayed as they lifted her and dropped her into the back of a vehicle with a thud. The door slamming down felt like her coffin closing.
***
Pushing back his chair, Steele rose to his feet. “I’m headed back to the compound. Anyone else ready to leave?”
Just as he thought, his MC brothers refused his invitation to ride back together. They were having way too much fun at The Hangout, Shadowridge’s local roadhouse. The establishment was always good for a round of drinks when they showed up. Having the motorcycle club roll up added an edgy feel to the place that made everyone thirsty.
And the twenty-somethings? They loved flirting with the guys they considered the ultimate bad boys in town.
Steele shook his head at the girls already ensconced on a few laps. No wonder no one was ready to go.
“Hey. You’re not leaving, are you?” a cute blonde asked, daringly tracing the black tattoo on his forearm.
“Yes.”
“You… You could stay for a while. Maybe dance with me?” She stuttered at first but gained confidence as she spoke.
“Not this time.”
Turning, he heard Talon call, “I’m a much better dancer, baby,” to tempt the blonde to change her target.
Without changing his trajectory, Steele flipped the smartass off and exited with the laughter of his motorcycle brethren following him out. He headed around the side of the building to where they had reserved parking. The raucous music from The Hangout wasn’t quite as loud back here.
He scowled at the sight of two men standing way too close to the bikes. Approaching, Steele said, “Can I do something for you?”
“Just admiring the bikes. I like riding too. How do I get into the Shadowridge Guardians?” the older one asked.
“Invitation only. Go to our website and apply,” he growled. The Guardians definitely weren’t online.
A rhythmic banging sound caught his attention and Steele scanned the area, trying to zero in on its location. There! Steele stalked forward. It seemed to come from the dumpster.
“Hey, thanks. I’m Bill, by the way.”
Ignoring the men he’d now dismissed as zero threats, Steele laid his hand on the metal dumpster and felt the vibration. Damn it! Someone had dropped an animal inside like they were trash.
Jumping to stand on the
lower rim of the opening, he steadied himself from tumbling into the mess inside. Dark shadows hid in the corners as he studied the debris from the roadhouse slopped inside. A movement caught his eye, and he shifted forward, testing each step as he moved to the edge of the pile. One end of a burlap bag jerked, striking the metal wall of the dumpster.
Grabbing a hold of the material, Steele hauled it up through the muck that partially covered it. It was heavier than he expected. Not puppies, but definitely something alive. Maybe a big dog. It shook, obviously petrified by the sudden movement.
“It’s okay, buddy. I’ve got you now. Hold still. I’ll get us out of this before I track down the asshole who put you in here,” Steele reassured the creature.
“Did you find something in there?”
Steele struggled to remember his name and gave up. “Come, take this so I won’t hurt it getting out.”
“There’s something alive in there?”
“Here.” Steele maneuvered the bundle out the entrance and fumed when the men stepped back from the filth coating it. Like they could be MC brothers. Bracing the sack on the opening, he jumped down and lowered it to the ground, unaided.
Holding the material away from the wiggling contents, Steele flicked his blade open and sliced through the top. A mass of dark hair popped into view. It was contained in a blue scrunchie. “Fuck!” This wasn’t a dog. He sliced faster.
Realizing he needed some help, he swung the arm holding the knife around to point at the two men still gawking nearby. “You! Go find my guys. Tell them Bikes.”
“That’s all you want me to say?” the guy with what’s-his-name asked.
“Bikes!” Steele roared at him and watched both men stumble back and race inside.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can trust me. I’ll get you out of here.”
He watched her head continue to move to the side to bang against the metal of the dumpster. Steele knew her mind had checked out a while ago, but her survival instinct kept her doing the only thing she could
to make noise. He freed her hands and feet from the rope that hogtied her. Wiping the filth off his hands on his shirt under his cut, Steele cradled her face. He ripped the duct tape quickly from her mouth, knowing a slow movement would just prolong the pain. She gasped for air as the Shadowridge Guardians flowed into the area.
“Call 911. We need an ambulance and the cops,” Steele directed, running his free hand over her extremities to make sure nothing was broken. “Someone dumped her in the trash.”
Kade dialed without asking any other questions. The grimace of anger on the Enforcer’s face rivaled the other men as they pieced together what had happened. And the fate that had awaited her. The sanitation workers came early Sunday morning to dump the remains of the Saturday party crowd. The compactor would have crushed her.
Pushing those thoughts from his mind, Steele picked her up, cradling her against him. She was coated with leftover beer, cocktails, and the greasy bar food that The Hangout specialized in. It had seeped through the burlap bag, plastering the tailored suit to her body. A faint smell of urine clung to her, fueling his anger. They’d scared her into losing control.
“Here, Steele.” The chaplain held a soft, stuffed bear close.
“Thanks, Gabriel.” He tucked it into her arms. The stuffie didn’t care if she wasn’t clean.
As he watched, she lifted the bear to her face and buried her nose in the plush. Her banging movement ceased as she seemed to take comfort in the soft companion. He felt a tug on his vest and looked down to see her fingers gripping the edge of his cut. Steele hugged her against his chest. “It’s going to be okay, Little girl. I promise. Can you tell me your name?”
Her eyelids opened for the first time, allowing him to see the brilliant green eyes they had hidden.
“Hey, Emerald Eyes. Can you tell me your name? I’m Steele.”
This time, she seemed to focus on him, but didn’t answer. Her gaze fastened on his face as if she were memorizing his features. He continued to talk to her as the police and ambulance pulled up.
“Here come the good guys. They’re going to take care of you and find whoever did this to you.”
“What’s going on?” the senior patrolman asked, as he tried to size up the threatening crowd.
“I found her in the dumpster. She was bound and tied in that sack,” Steele said, beckoning the medics forward.
“We’ll take good care of her,” one paramedic assured Steele as he reached forward to take the woman from his arms.
“Steele,” she croaked, holding on to him with one hand locked like a death grip
on his vest.
“Baby, they need to check you over. I know you’ve hurt your head.” Steele talked to her quietly as the paramedics watched.
Almost immediately, her head banging started again. Steele cupped her jaw, preventing her from hitting herself against his chest. ...
