Title: Brothers in Arms
Series: Kings of Mayhem #2
Author: Penny Dee
Genre: MC Romance/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 26, 2019
Someone is going to pay.
They took someone from me.
And I’m going to make them pay.
But before I can do that, I have to make sure my girl is safe.
And I will do whatever I have to, even break my own heart, to make sure she survives.
Because she is my queen.
His grief is overwhelming and I can feel the gap widening between us.
Someone is coming after the Kings of Mayhem MC.
And we are trapped as they play out their evil scheme.
Because under the cover of darkness, they are coming for each of us, one by one, to play out their own twisted vendetta.
And no one is safe.
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When I opened my eyes, the door to the bathroom opened and Cade stepped in, his face and hair soaked with rain.
I watched him pull his shirt over his head, remove his boots, and the rest of his clothes. When he was completely naked, he stepped into the shower, and without a word, took me in his arms and pressed his mouth to mine. My body immediately responded and I melted against him, seeking comfort and pleasure in his hard body as it commanded me backwards until my back was against the wet, tiled wall. His big hands moved up to my face while his mouth moved fiercely over mine until his kiss left me breathless.
But his kiss petered out as his emotion overtook him. I looked up into his tormented face. Pain and grief were like shadows in his eyes. His face was stiff and I could feel his heartbreak radiating from him with every beat of his heart. He dropped his forehead to mine.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said, his voice deep and strong, but at the same time, pained and heartbroken.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered.
He drew in a deep breath, his hooded eyes fixed to mine. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you . . .” His voice broke and his thumbs found the slick skin of my lower lip, his eyes intensely focused on it. I had only seen Cade cry once. When he was eighteen and he’d ridden all the way to Seattle to beg me to come back to him after we had broken up. Otherwise, he was fiercely stoic. But now, standing in the steam, he was barely in control.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I replied.
His anguish was deep. I watched him squeeze his eyes shut and felt the slow exhale of breath as he opened them again. Droplets of water fell in rivulets down his beautiful face and dripped onto his parted lips.
His brows drew together.
“It hurts,” he whispered.
I nodded. “I know.”
He tried to kiss me but his lips trembled against mine and he pulled away. He slapped his palms against the tiled wall and took a moment. Water poured over his head and down his broad, muscular back. His face crumpled and he slowly sank to his knees, burying his face in my stomach.
I had blacked out again. I’m not sure when, or why. But when I woke up, morning light slid into the room via the small window on the far wall. My body was stiff and my wrists stung from the bindings. I was also dying to pee.
I tried calling out, but my throat was so dry I barely made a sound. As if on cue, the door to the room opened and I felt the same familiar male presence as before. I braced myself, waiting for another attack.
“I need to pee,” I croaked, now fully aware of my aching bladder. “And if you don’t want me making a mess of your sheets . . .”
He said nothing. He simply made sure my blindfold was secure before leaning down to undo my wrist binds.
I took the moment to try to work out who he was. Was that a familiar smell? Did I recognize it?
Yes, he smelled familiar.
“Get up,” he said gruffly when I was free.
Not sure if he was going to hit me again, I cautiously sat up. My head spun with pain and the blood whirling in my ears, and I had to bite back my fear as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Gingerly, I felt for the floor with my feet.
Where was I?
A pair of hands pulled me to my feet and then settled on my shoulders. With a shove, he pushed me across the room and through a doorway. Placing his hands back on my shoulders he hustled me along a corridor. I pushed my hands out in front of me, feeling in the air for anything I might walk into. My breathing was heavy and my pulse thumped wildly in my neck. Keep calm. Keep calm. Take in your surroundings. When my palms hit the doorframe in front of me, my captor shoved me again so I stumbled into the bathroom and fell.
When I climbed to my feet, he was right behind me.
“Don’t try anything stupid,” he whispered in my ear. I felt the unmistakable coolness of a blade against my throat. “Or I might have to get creative when I catch you.”
The door closed and I took a moment to calm myself. When I was sure I was alone I quickly ripped off my blindfold. Light stung my eyes as I looked around me. I was dressed in nothing but my tank top and a pair of panties. My legs were cold and I was desperate for a drink, but I was more desperate to escape. I swung around, checking for a window to escape through, but the only window in the room was bolted closed.
Right. If escape wasn’t an option, then I needed to arm myself. I scanned the room for anything I could use as a weapon. Anything. But the room was sparse. I went to the medicine cabinet, hoping for a razor blade, a pair of scissors—something! But apart from a cake of soap, a tube of antiseptic cream, and some kind of body balm, there was nothing.
I closed the mirrored cabinet door and felt suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. My head dropped to my hands. I had to find something to protect myself with because this might be the only chance I got. Who knew what hell waited for me when I left this room?
Lifting my head, I stared at my gaunt reflection in the tarnished mirrored door. The wound to my lip had been deep but it had scabbed over. Blood from the pounding I had taken to my nose had caked beneath my nostrils. Both my eyes were black and I was already showing signs of dehydration.
I turned on the faucet and bent down so I could hungrily gulp back mouthfuls of cool water until I was breathless. Straightening, I wiped the water from my chin and tried to steady my nerves. I lifted my eyes to look at myself in the mirror.
You have to get out of here.
You have to fight.
My gaze shifted to the dirty hand towel hanging by the basin and a plan quickly formed in my mind. Grabbing it, I wrapped it around my arm before I took aim at the mirrored door with my elbow. I had no idea if this would work, or if it would alert my capturer to the fact I was disobeying his don’t try anything stupid demand. But I had to try.
I coincided a well-timed cough with smacking my elbow into the mirror. Pain shot up my arm to my jaw, and for a moment I saw stars, but my reward was the muffled crack of glass. Thankfully, it didn’t shatter into pieces and simply cracked at the point of contact.
With fingers caked in dried blood, I loosened a shard out of the mirror and rolled it about in my hand, getting a feel for it. Granted, it wasn’t a knife. Or a gun. But it could mean the difference between me surviving, or me dying.
Taking care of my need to pee, I considered my plan. As soon as my captor was close enough, I would stick the shard straight into his neck and run for my life. But I only had one chance, so I had to get it right. I would aim for the jugular and I wouldn’t miss. It would be quick and it would be lethal.
When I finished peeing, I stood up and headed for the door.
I drew in a deep breath. I didn’t know what waited for me on the other side, but whatever it was, I wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Okay, you son of a bitch, let’s do this,” I whispered.
I opened the door slowly, inch by inch, holding my breath as I waited for it to be ripped open by my kidnapper. But as the second-story landing slowly came into view, I realized he wasn’t there.
I was alone.
I stood there for a moment, barely able to breathe, barely able to control my pounding heart. My eyes scanned my surroundings. I was on the second floor landing of what used to be a family home. But there was something old, faded, and unloved about the place. Pictures were missing off the walls and everything seemed yellowed and dusty in the dim light. It seemed lonely.
This is a trap.
To the right of me, a stairway led down to the second level.
Probably straight to the front door.
I strained to listen, trying to work out if my kidnapper was nearby, but the house was still and quiet.
Careful not to make a noise, I crept along the landing, gripping the makeshift shiv firmly in my hand, ready to use it. Taking each step with caution, I slowly made my way down the stairs, my knees weak and my heart pounding like it would beat out of my chest at any given second. I was almost at the bottom of the stairs and the front door was in sight. Two more steps and I could make a break for it—for freedom. The front door was glass and I was more than game to crash through it if it was locked.
As soon as my feet slapped the tiles, I made a run for the door and reached for the handle.
That’s when I heard him. His voice came from behind me.
“Nice of you to finally join me.”
I spun around and felt my brain tilt. My knees weakened and I dropped the shard of glass in my hands.
“You,” I breathed with disbelief.
#1 Kings of Mayhem
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Penny Dee writes contemporary romance about rockstars, bikers, hockey players and everyone in-between. She believes true love never runs smoothly, and her characters realize this too, with a boatload of drama and a whole lot of steam.
She found her happily ever after in Australia where she lives with her husband, daughter and a dog named Bindi.
Kings of Mayhem MC Series Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/TheKingsofMayhemMC