Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(6)
So, she was smart as well as pretty. “You ever kill someone, darlin’?” The more he talked the worse he sounded. Hoarse, rough. So unlike himself. But then all he’d used his voice for over the last three months was screaming.
“No.” Naiya paled, looked away, her hesitation belying her bravado. “I just … read about it. And study it. Death, I mean. And crimes leading to death. So really, it’s just theoretical. And I was just thinking about wounding him, not killing him.”
His tension eased the tiniest bit. Okay, maybe she wasn’t crazy, but she wasn’t living in the real world if all she did was read and study about death, or if she thought she’d have enough control to stab an enraged man without killing him. She certainly didn’t have the life experience to put her plan into action.
“Can’t let you do it.” Holt tightened his grip on the dagger. “If it goes wrong, you’ll never get over it.”
“You’ve done it? Killed someone?”
“Yeah.” Holt shrugged, feeling neither shame nor remorse. Like her, he’d done what it took to survive. First as a member of a street gang in Laredo, Texas, and then as a full patch brother in the Sinner’s Tribe. He didn’t enjoy killing. But if it came down to his life or the lives of his brothers, he had no hesitation pulling the trigger. “And I’ll do it again.” He gritted his teeth when his legs trembled, protesting their use after so many months of inactivity. “You gonna scream and give us away?”
“Do I look like a screamer?” Naiya let out an irritated breath. “I just offered to stab the guy. I’m not about to start jumping around and waving my hands in the air whimpering that I can’t deal with the sight of blood. I lived in Black Jack party central from when I was nine years old. I saw all the things parents are terrified their kids will see. You name it, I was there. I just can’t handle the dark. But other than that, I don’t even scream when I see spiders or mice. In fact, I keep them as pets.”
“Pets?”
“I’m messing with you, Holt.” Her lips turned up at the corners. “Defense mechanism. Inappropriate humor. Maybe ’cause we’re in Viper’s dungeon and he’s about to send his brothers down to kill you and chain me to his bed. And you’re weak and beaten down and can’t stand, and even if we get out, we still have to get through the yard and away from the clubhouse without a vehicle. But at least we have a plan. Things could be worse.”
“Worse?”
“We could be naked.”
He couldn’t help it. His gaze travelled down her body, drinking in her curves, the crescents of her breasts beneath her black tank top, her narrow waist, full hips, and long lean legs. He imagined her naked, soft creamy skin beneath his palms, dusky rose nipples begging for his touch. His cock stirred, and for the first time he wondered if Viper hadn’t broken him after all.
Naiya swallowed hard and dipped her head, and her sudden shyness aroused him even more. “Definitely worse,” she mumbled.
He heard footsteps outside the door, the rattle of keys.
The door opened. Just a crack, and then wider.
TWO
“Let me out of here.” Naiya threw herself at the guard, beating his chest to distract him from Holt who was leaning against the wall behind the door with the knife in his hand.
Dammit. Why didn’t he move?
She grabbed the guard’s cut and shook him, doing her best to feign terror. “I can’t take it. I’m afraid of the dark. I’ll do anything. Tell Viper. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Jesus. Fuck. Get off me.” The guard swatted at her, but Naiya held on, keeping his back to Holt.
Still, Holt didn’t move. What the hell was he waiting for? An invitation? Goddamnit. This was what happened when you didn’t have a plan. Clutching the guard’s cut, she slammed her knee into his groin. He doubled over with a grunt and she caught a blur of motion behind him. Holt’s knife flashed and the guard dropped like a stone, blood dripping from his neck onto the concrete floor.
Holt stumbled to the side and Naiya caught him before he fell.
“I was worried for a moment there. Thought you might not be up to the task.” She felt curiously unmoved by the guard’s death. Maybe because his wasn’t the first violent death she’d witnessed—by the time she turned eleven years old, she’d seen two stabbings, a shooting, and a strangling, all in her mother’s apartment. Maybe she was in shock. She hadn’t really expected Holt to kill him, just slow him down. Or maybe it was because the guard was one of the Jacks who had held her down in Viper’s office that terrible night and part of her believed he deserved what he got.
Holt snorted, wiped the knife on his jeans. “It’s about timing. Knowing when to act. Rolling with the punches.”
“I’ll remember that next time I have to slit someone’s throat.” Nausea finally roiled in her belly, and she pushed the sick feeling away. They had taken a life. And although she wasn’t the one who had wielded the knife, she was complicit in the crime. A wave of panic washed through her, and she was profoundly grateful Holt had taken on the burden himself. For all that she studied death and spent her free time reading suspense novels and watching crime shows, and for all the violence she’d witnessed in her life, she was pretty sure, when it came down to it, she couldn’t have done the job.