Page 9 of Devil to Pay: Cutter

“Shut up,” he yells back.

This is going to be a long ride, no matter how long or short it is.

Eventually, we veer off the highway we were on to merge with another heading north into Kentucky.

More hours pass before he takes another smaller exit to a smaller highway. I still don’t know where the hell we’re going until eventually, he leaves the highway for a small town called Bentley. If it were lighter out, I’d take in the streets and buildings, especially when we head into an old downtown area.

He turns onto a road that takes us up a mountain. No more than ten minutes later, we’re turning onto a large property enclosed by chain-link fencing.

“The clubhouse,” I whisper. There’s a large lot filled with bikes. The lot is flooded with light from the large fixtures attached to the building, which looks to be constructed from block and corrugated metal.

“Let’s go,” he says after he’s parked and pushed off the bike. He’s not being nice, but he’s not exactly being mean, either. And he’s yet to put a hand on me in anger.

The brothers surround me, like they think I’m going to mount an escape. Please. I know when I’ve been beat. He’s won. At least for now.

Cutter pulls open the wood and glass-paneled door.

When we step inside, all eyes turn to us.

A whole room of large, angry bikers.

Shit.

4

CUTTER

Imagine my surprise at finding the woman we’d been hunting walking down the side of the goddamn highway. Best sex of my life. I’m caught between wanting to fuck her again and wring her skinny neck. But she gave me back the cash right away.

What kind of woman has the audacity to steal from a biker? That’s just courting danger. Everyone is staring. The room has gone quiet.

“Cut,” Vlad, my president, calls as he approaches our group. The man’s imposing and intimidating at the best of times, at least to those not his lieutenants, and this isn’t one of the best of times seeing as he hasn’t turned his glare from Aja since he came to greet me. He’s a couple inches taller than me but has almost twice the muscle mass that I have in his chest and shoulders. All of it covered in tats. I can blend. It’s one of my jobs for the club. Vlad always stands out.

“Vlad.” I nod.

“This the bitch who stole from you?” he asks, his tone sharp. Aja’s trying to look cool and unaffected with the way she stands and the tilt of her head, but there’s a delicate sheen of sweat above her upper lip and across her forehead. That, and I can see as her eyes casually roam the room. She’s looking for an escape. I can’t help but feel a little proud of her. The woman’s a fighter. Shit.

“She is.”

“Fuck, I can’t believe you found her,” he says then, laughing, he shakes his head.

“Sarge’s men are good friends to have,” I return.

“Make her comfortable.” That’s an order. He hardens his face as he gives it. She might have stolen from me and he’s obviously pissed about it, but we live by a code now, how we treat women. It’s sure as hell not how clubs like the Death Bringers treat them. She’s damn lucky it was me she stole from and not one of them.

I nod, shoving lightly on her back to get her moving.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, and fuck, if there’s not a quaver to her voice.

“Not going to hurt you.”

We move past the bar to the hallway off the main room, I turn her to the left. We walk the seven rooms down to my room. It has a lock on the outside. She won’t escape. I press on her back again to get her moving inside and then close the door.

“TV. Got several streaming channels—just use the remote. Bathroom’s over there.” I point to the bathroom door.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Damn her. I Drop my hands to my hips, laughing sarcastically, and shake my head. “Oh, sonowyou want my company?” The woman can’t be serious.

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