Page 4 of Raiden

“For the love of…” I leave the door open so Reckless can see I’m not torturing my husband. If he’s poisoned, he did it to himself. There’s a brief smirk from Reckless, then his face turns stony again.

I don’t ask for help, and none is offered so I drag Raiden upright and slap him hard. He mumbles something, his big hands coming down to clamp fiercely on my thighs. The electric tingle that shoots through my body is entirely unwelcome. He grinds his back against the wall, barely conscious, but clinging to my thighs like a motherfucker. I look down where his fingers are gripping hard enough to bruise.

“Careful,Ray.” I use his sister and Gray’s pet name for him. Like magic, that sobers him enough to focus on my face with brutal intensity. “You’re in danger of seducing your own self right now.”

A few inches more and his hands would be in places they have no business touching. Another wave of heat bubbles up from my belly, cutting off further harsh words. His hands don’t feel awful. They’re rough, warm, and solid. He stares back at me, and I tell myself it’s just the alcohol dilating his pupils. It’s not exactly news that getting drunk makes people horny. At themoment, he can’t separate the feel of my skin from the fact that I stand for everything he hates.

I tear away, stumbling back. It feels wrong being here in his room. I’ve heard it mentioned he has a house in town, but with the threat my dad’s club represents, most of the men are sticking close to the clubhouse.

Raiden’s room is spotless. The queen bed is made up with military precision, the folds crisp and square, the white blanket uncreased. I guess those five years in prison really did a number on him. There’s not much in here other than two wooden dressers, a bookshelf with various books on accounting and financial theory—which briefly cause me to raise an eyebrow, a floor lamp, and a black nightstand with a lamp on there.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” I find a yellow plastic cup in the small bathroom, toss out the toothbrush, and fill it with water.

He’s practically comatose, but I set the water beside him and nudge his shit kicker with my pointy boot. “Love the digs, hubs. You’ve worked wonders with your new room. I especially appreciate your choice in artwork.” I point to the blank walls.

I can literally see my mom in my mind, frowning at me. She told me my sass was a great thing but using it like a weapon would get me into trouble. That, from a former club whore and all around badass in her own right.

“Raiden.” I nudge his foot harder. He makes a gurgling noise and nearly tips forward. “Fuck! Reckless?” Even though he’s posted at Gray’s door, he steps into the room. He was probably listening and watching the whole exchange anyway. “You should get him upright. Make sure he doesn’t choke if he pukes.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

This time, I don’t even try to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Whatever. Let your VP potentially die then. What do you think your prez would have to say about that? Maybe you should go ask him. Wait. He wouldn’t like getting interrupted while he’s plowing his woman in there, so you should probably just suck it up and use common sense, yeah?”

That’s the wrong thing to say in every way, but I’m not the least bit intimidated when he strides across the room and gets up in my face.

The force of the big man’s anger rolls through the room. “You’re so high on your own importance. You’re nothing but a little girl who things she’s better than she is, trying to be big time.”

“That so?” I spit back, unsheathing my claws even though my mom would tell me to be the bigger person. Wait. No she fucking wouldn’t when it comes to a man trying to intimidate and demean. “At least I don’t go around stabbing my former prez in the back instead of working things out to his face. If anyone’s high on anything, it’s all of you, on your own so-called goodness. I think you all need to get over yourself and stop worrying about being little Sunday school bikers and get real. If any of you owned a set of testicles that descended at the rate of a real man, I wouldn’t even be here now, but I am. So… deal.”

I give Raiden’s boot another nudge and whirl around, ready to make a dignified exit, but Reckless isn’t finished with me. “I can’t wait until Raiden throws you over his knees and takes his hand to you to teach you some manners, you mouthy little cunt.”

Like I’m a woman in the world and I’ve never heard that word before.

Still. It’s a clear as fuck challenge that I’m not going to let slide.

I turn very slowly and give my best death glare, which is quite effective on regular people, but never did anything but make my father’s men laugh. Usually, I’d laugh too, and we’d make a joke of it that we could all enjoy. Humor is far more effective than anger. I should do it here too, but for the life of me, I can’t think of a single retort.

Fact is, if Raiden or any other man touches me against my will or in force, they’re dead. I’m above making threats, and Reckless didn’t say he was going to do it himself. He left the disciplining of the recalcitrant wife to the husband, like it’s Victorian times.

“Watch yourself, darlin’,” I sass back, flipping my long hair over my shoulder like his words didn’t wrap their thorns around me. “This mouthy little cunt likes to spank back.”

“I’m not watching him and anyone who’s not on guard duty tonight is too drunk. That’s your honor.” Maybe Reckless isn’t so bad, because as he brushes past me, he actually winks. “Ma’am Dominatrix.”

Well, shit.

It’s harder to get put in your place if you don’t get proper ammunition for it. That nickname will probably be all over the club by morning. Bikers have a rough sense of humor, and they won’t use it to hurt Raiden, just to rankle me. It’s better than Widow, that was the name my father’s men gave me. My real name is Ella, but it’s been years since anyone called me that.

I flop down on Raiden’s immaculate bed, satisfied with the ass-sized imprint I make in it, mussing up the perfection.

Everything about this place and everyone else can go to hell and while it’s sinking and burning, I’ll be out of here, living the damn good life I was trying to build for myself before I came here, and it all went to shit once again.

Chapter 2

Raiden

On opening my heavy eyes to a pounding head and a foul mouth, aching from head to fucking toes and the hard floor beneath me, the first thing I think is that I’m backthere.

The claustrophobia hits hard, suffocating my lungs, but there are no bars here. Just a puddle of drool dribbled down the front of me, a trashcan in my lap, and the wall at my back. There’s sunlight coming in through the blinds at the small window.

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