The Implosion Read online

  Small fists pummeled his back, barely making an impact. She was a small package, insignificant in his life. He had bigger demons breathing down his back.

  "Let. Me." She walloped him again. "Go."

  He turned around and grabbed her upper arms, putting a stop to her physical attack. Her head whipped back and forth. Held prisoner by the blue eyes staring up at him, his body locked down. He lifted her to her toes.

  Her gasp and rapid breaths covered him. Aware of her breasts squished against his chest, her thighs pressed against the front of his leg, her mouth open and seductive, his grip on her tightened.

  She winced, refusing to back down.

  He admired her strength as much as he laughed at her foolishness. She couldn't stop him from snapping her like a twig.

  She bared her teeth. "I hate you."

  "Everybody does." He lifted her higher, lowering his head.

  A soft puff of air caressed his face. He pressed his lips against her mouth to shut her up. At one time, he craved a high that let him escape the world around him. He would've done anything to feel good.

  Until that high wasn't enough.

  He thrust his tongue into her open mouth. Tasting her was a euphoric behavior he could get addicted to. Once he started, he wanted more.

  A sharp, violent pain filled his mouth. He jerked his mouth off Grace, tasting the metallic flavored fluid of his blood.

  Grace's eyes rounded, and she rocked back on the heels of her feet. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and swallowed. She'd bit his fucking tongue.

  "Please." Her brows pinched. "Let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone what you've done. I just want to go home."

  He tested his tongue. She hadn't done much damage. He could still shove it down her throat if he wanted.

  "You think I care what others think about me?" he asked.

  She shook her head and whispered, "You don't care about me."

  He squinted. There was never a time in his life when he cared about anyone. The Alpha Bio Project had stolen all his emotions and numbed him from reacting to others. But, he remembered what it was like to try and make himself happy.

  He also remembered what it was like to make someone hurt.

  Twenty years ago, he woke up every morning wanting to create more damage on anyone who got in his way. To inflict more pain than he lived with every waking moment. To witness someone else going through the same hell he'd gone through.

  Wrapped up in a self-destructive state, he'd done what he thought was irreversible damage to his body, his mind. Something he couldn't promise wouldn't happen again if Grace kept pestering him about leaving.

  "I'll let you go when I say you can go. Not a minute sooner." He stepped around her and went to the fridge.

  Seeing beer stocked in the door, he took out every bottle, every can, and tossed them in the trash. His hands shook, and he hid the movement from Grace. Tomorrow, he'd find a fully enhanced member to watch over her while he handled club business.

  He stuck his head under the faucet, washing the blood out of his mouth. As he watched the pink-tinged water circle the drain, he already wanted the taste of her back on his tongue.

  Why her?

  He could ride through town and take any of the women who regularly visited the members looking for sex. But since Grace rode up to the cabin like an angel coming to rescue him, he found himself drawn to her when he wasn't pissed off that she'd witnessed him at his lowest.

  She had no idea how low he could go. He turned around. She'd left the room.

  Going to find her, he understood that to keep her; he'd need to make the house more secure. But, she was a woman who would find a way out if given time.

  Halfway down the hall, he stopped and tilted his head. The familiar shift of a motorcycle engine alerted him to someone coming. He found Grace locked behind the bathroom door. Knowing there was no window for her to escape through, he headed in the opposite direction to find out which member of AFMC was visiting him.

  At the window, he spotted Trip riding faster than the posted speed limit. He moved to the door, dug the key out of his pocket, and worked the lock.

  Trip should be halfway up the mountain and headed to the cabin with Speeder by now. Having him still in town wasn't good.

  As he stepped outside, he frowned at Trip taking the turn into the driveway, leaving rubber in his wake.

  Trip toed the kickstand and jumped off the motorcycle, striding toward him. Instantly aware of Trip's urgency signaling the switch was happening faster than he'd predicted, he realized he'd been wrong about his timeframe.

  He'd missed a week of his life—the time from the cave to finding himself on the mountain.

  "You need to help me, man." Trip grabbed the front of Keenan's vest. "Bonnie won't let me go."

  "She can't stop you."

  Trip pushed him, falling away and grabbing his head. "It's not her."

  "What's not her?"

  "She's not mine. Those kids aren't mine." Trip's gaze swung around, and his body tensed. "I'm not supposed to be with her or the boys."

  "They're yours," said Keenan softly. "They're with you."

  "No, there's another family. I had a family." Trip lowered his voice. "I remember."

  "Listen to me." He grabbed Trip, holding him in place. "Don't go there. It's your mind playing tricks on you."

  "I get..." Trip closed his eyes and winced. "Bits and pieces. I can see her. I held the baby."

  The memories would come back. Sometimes faster than a person could understand. Other times, slower than he'd wanted.

  The anger he'd gone through as he fought a battle with an invisible enemy had pushed him to the brink of insanity. There were still times, he believed he'd go crazy.

  Over eighteen years of his life spent within an organization that'd tortured, drugged, and held him prisoner. All for his loyalty. His ability to kill. His fearless pathway to ending his life.

  No one would believe what he'd gone through. What every member of Avery Falls Motorcycle Club lived through, day in and day out.

  They sure in the fuck wouldn't understand his past before the project.

  Sworn loyalty or not, nobody would accept a man like him.

  He had to face reality. As soon as the other originals became switched, he'd lose them in his life. They'd all look at each other differently. The level of trust would be contaminated.

  And that pissed him off.

  Hatred toward those in control of the Alpha Bio Project grew inside of him daily. He was sick of others taking what was rightfully his and having no say in what happened to him.

  They had no right to keep him alive.

  "It'll all make sense...afterward." He led Trip back to his Harley. "Get speeder, and then the both of you get the fuck out of town. Don't go home. Whatever you do, don't go around Bonnie and the boys."

  "I love Bonnie. I do." Trip straddled the bike. "This will destroy her."

  "You won't let that happen," he whispered.

  "How can I stop it?"

  He shook his head. Answers weren't going to help his MC brother now.

  Standing in the driveway, he watched Trip until he rode out of sight, assuming he was going to gather Speeder and get the hell out of Avery Falls before each of them put their family in danger.

  The day's events weighed heavily on him. Through it all, he hadn't forgotten about Grace.

  At the moment, she was sneaking out of the house, keeping cover behind the bushes that grew in front of the living room window because he'd left the front door open. He could hear her heart race. Whether in fear or hope, he would never know.

  He inhaled deeply and turned around. She couldn't outrun him.

  Chapter Ten

  Grace's fingertips throbbed. She held them under the stream of cold water coming out of the kitchen faucet and hung her head. Having worked on the framing around the front door for the last four hours, all she'd managed to do was remove a piece of molding.

  She still needed to br
eak the sheetrock off the studs and somehow manage to remove the lock mechanism, holding the door shut. The amount of pain from only using her hands made escaping seem like an impossible task.

  Behind her, the back door opened and shut. She stiffened, not even looking behind her.

  Keenan came and went when he wanted, locking her in the house. He no longer left a biker outside. It was as if he, too, believed it was impossible for her to escape.

  "What happened?" He approached her.

  The warmth of his body heated her back, thanks to the thin t-shirt she'd stolen out of his dresser. She was tired of wearing the same clothes every day.

  That morning, it had become clear to her that she'd lost track of how many days he'd kept her at the house.

  He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. Dripping water on the floor, she stood while he inspected her fingernails.

  Without any tools, she'd used her bare hands to pry the wood. There wasn't a knife left in the house. He'd removed them all. The spoons and forks had bent when she'd tried to use them.

  "Come on." He held her wrists and led her to the door going into the garage.

  Stepping down onto the concrete floor, she ignored the coldness on the bottom of her bare feet. It was the first time he'd taken her out of the main part of the house.

  She gazed around, studying everything in the two-car space. There were tools galore. Bike parts stacked on top of each other. Even shovels, rakes, and a snowblower. Any of those things would've broken down the front door.

  Keenan pulled her through the walk-through door at the back of the garage. She stepped out onto the grass in the backyard. It was the first time she'd had a look at the house. She gazed over her shoulder. It was a nice house. Nothing fancy or upscale but a sturdy single-story with rock halfway up the sides of the building.

  She ran into Keenan's back and braced herself as her body wobbled to find balance.

  Keenan removed a key from his pocket and opened a door to the front of the pole building. Once inside, he turned on the lights and let go of her. Afraid he'd change his mind and take her back to the house with no way of escaping, she refrained from questioning him.

  If she was patient. If she was smart. If she could see a way out, she'd run.

  The beat of her heart echoed inside her body at the expanse of space inside. She blinked, not understanding what she was seeing. There was a pool and weights—many weights like the kind you see at a fitness center. Large ropes hung from the ceiling in the corner. On the wall to her right, there were several machine guns or rifles or shotguns. She couldn't tell the difference between the weapons even if she could think properly.

  Instantly, she thought of grabbing one of the weapons and shooting her way to freedom.

  Against the bottom of the wall were several wooden crates. She could only guess what they contained. She suspected they were filled with ammunition for the thirty or so guns he'd collected.

  Energized at the possibilities, she quickly scanned the entire room. To her surprise, there was a swimming pool on the other side. Going by the size and style of the house, she never would've imagined he had such a fancy gym in his backyard.

  "Get in the hot tub while I swim." He pulled her toward the pool. "You can't leave, so don't even try."

  Stripping off his leather vest, he folded it in half and dropped it on the concrete floor. She stared at the way he flexed his limbs. The oddness and surprise of the building left her incapable of moving.

  He had hidden a fitness center/bug-out room under the disguise of a pole building in his backyard. If she hadn't of come in with him, she would never have thought to look inside.

  Keenan stripped off his shirt. His pectoral muscles flexed, dancing in front of her.

  His broad chest, covered in tattoos, reminded her of when she'd walked up to the cabin, and he'd kidnapped her. He'd been naked that day.

  She shivered, hating herself for finding his body attractive when she despised him. His perfect body and confidence roused her. She was tired of fighting and thinking and crying and worrying every second of the day and night.

  He dropped his jeans. The material puddled at his feet, stopped only by his boots.

  She lowered her gaze as if she looked forward to getting another glimpse of his massive cock. She. Definitely. Did. Not.

  So what if he was an anomaly? Her profession dealt with animals, often going extinct. Not humans.

  He toed the back of his boots, pulling his feet out of the shoes. "Get undressed."

  She shook her head, dragging her gaze up. His eyes flared with awareness of her watching him, sending a shiver down her spine.

  "Do it, or I'll do it for you." He raked his fingers through his bushy beard, then lingered with his hand on his chest.

  She swallowed. The ease at which he could walk around nude fascinated her as much as scared her. While he carried no gun, no knife, no stick, no weapon to hurt her. His dick was a lethal weapon. His hands were dangerous.

  And as she'd found out, his mouth had the ability to wound her.

  He stalked forward. She backed up. Under all those whiskers, his mouth thinned until it disappeared in his beard. She turned and lunged for the door, looking for a way to escape him.

  His hands landed on the door, slamming it shut and tearing the knob out of her hand. He pressed his body against her back, plastering her against the door. Panic swept through her.

  Keenan put his lips on her ear. "Just remember, I gave you a choice."

  His hand landed on her hip. She stiffened, realizing his intent.

  "Please. Don't," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as he shoved her shorts off her waist and down her legs.

  Air hit her ass at the same time he pulled her shirt over her head. Then, with deft fingers, he unclasped her bra, and her breasts fell free.

  He growled in her ear. "Now, get in the spa and wait for me to finish."

  When she remained pressed against the door, he smacked her ass, making her jump. She quickly covered her breasts and squeezed her thighs together.

  He motioned with his chin. She marched forward, aware of his gaze wandering over her naked body. She clamped her teeth together. If he were comparing his perfectly fit body to her softer body, he would find her lacking.

  Her thighs were squeezable and jiggled when she ran. While her waist indented, she had a roll when she sat. Her breasts were too large for her frame, and thanks to puberty making them grow at a fast rate, she had slim white stretchmarks near her armpits. She wasn't perfect, and she never pretended to be.

  Her body flushed, knowing he could see all the imperfections that she chalked up to her unique DNA, but he probably couldn't see that.

  Never in her life had she felt the level of hate she had toward him.

  At the end of the pool, she stepped down into the partitioned hot tub and dipped until her shoulders were below the surface of the water. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of ogling her.

  She lifted her head to find out if he was looking and caught him diving headfirst into the pool. For several minutes, he remained below the surface, only his arms breaking above the water.

  She hoped he'd drown.

  Pushing off the molded seat and the restraints of the water, she stood. Naked or not, she would run down the main street of town to get attention to what was happening to her.

  She stepped up on the seat and grabbed the edge of the pool. Adrenaline flowed through her, urging her to hurry.

  "Sit."

  She looked over her shoulder. Keenan's head bobbed above the water. She'd acted too slow. Once he'd gone underwater, she should've run for the door and taken the chance that he was going to stay under the surface.

  Now it was too late.

  She slipped, splashing back into the seat in defeat. Keenan, keeping his gaze on her, continued his long strokes, doing another lap. And another. All while watching her.

  The heat from the spa overheated her, taking the chill from her bones. The rise in bo
dy heat turned her stomach.

  As she reached the verge of passing out, Keenan pulled himself over the edge of the pool and shook the water out of his hair and beard, much like a dog after a bath. Every muscle on his body quivered, constricting harder.

  His cock, now rock hard, jutted from his body in a warning for her not to try and escape again.

  He stopped behind her. She stayed sitting in the water. The threat of boiling to death after she passed from the heat was the lesser evil than being around him with his clothes off.

  Hands slid under her arms. He lifted her out of the spa. The cooler air washed over her overheated body. Placed on shaking legs, she had no strength to cover her body with her hands. It was useless fighting against him.

  Everything she tried, she lost. He always won.

  If he planned to abuse her, she'd need to find the inner strength to live. Her sister was waiting for her. Probably worried sick.

  Coming to Avery Falls was supposed to better her life. The extra money from the job would go toward her and Amelia purchasing a house and getting them out of the condo.

  She had no idea coming to Avery Falls could be the end of her life.

  Keenan led her over to a wooden bench and pushed her down until she sat. Her clothes were ten feet away on the floor, yet she had no desire to get up and put them on.

  He moved away, picked up two dumbbells, and started lifting the weights. She stared in disinterest. The strength of his body no longer fascinated her.

  She closed her eyes, using the time to rest.

  The next thing she became aware of was Keenan picking her up, cradling her in his arms. The swaying motion made it impossible to open her eyes. She pressed her cheek against warm skin.

  If he was going to kill her, she rather not see it coming.

  Chapter Eleven

  Prez paced the length of the living room. Keenan barred the door, keeping him inside the house. It was a different experience witnessing someone else go through the switch, and Prez was only at the beginning of the change.

  Tomorrow would be bad.

  The day after, even worse.