Three ruthless bikers : one temptation

"Stop shaking, Lena. You’re ruining the line of the silk."

My mother’s hand snapped out, pinning my shoulder against the dressing room mirror. She didn’t look at my face; she was too busy obsessing over the lace sleeves.

"I think I’m going to be sick," I said. My voice sounded thin, like it belonged to someone else.

Margaret finally looked at me. Her eyes weren't kind. They were calculating. "You’re not getting sick. You’re getting married. Do you have any idea what happens if you walk out there and make a scene? Edmund didn't pay two million dollars to your father’s estate for a girl who 'feels sick.'"

"He bought me," I whispered. "That’s what this is. A sale."

Margaret slapped me.

The sound echoed in the small room. My cheek stung, the heat blooming across my skin.

"He saved us," Margaret hissed, leaning in close. I could smell her expensive perfume, it smelled like a trap. "You should be thanking God that a man like Edmund Hale even looked at a useless girl like you. Now, put on the veil. Smile. And don't you dare embarrass me."

Ten minutes later, I was standing at the back of the church.

The music started.

The doors opened.

It felt like I was walking toward a cliff.

Edmund was waiting at the end of the aisle. He was seventy-two, with thin, pale hair and a smile that made my skin crawl. He looked at me the way a man looks at a new car he’s about to take for a drive.

When I reached him, he took my hand. His fingers were cold and damp. I wanted to scream, but I just stood there, staring at a small crack in the marble floor.

"Do you, Edmund Charles Hale, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he said. He sounded so proud of himself.

The priest turned to me. "And do you, Lena Marie Graves, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

The silence stretched. I looked up. I saw my mother in the front row, her eyes narrowed into a threat. I looked at Edmund.

He was leaning in, already acting like he owned the air I breathed.

"No," I said.

The priest blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said no." I pulled my hand back like his touch had burned me. "I won't do it. I’m not a piece of property."

"Lena, sit down and finish this!" Margaret shouted from the pew.

"Go to hell, Margaret," I snapped.

I didn't wait for a reaction. I grabbed the heavy skirts of my dress, turned around, and ran. I heard people gasping, heard Edmund yelling for his security, but I didn't stop. I burst through the doors and hit the street.

I ran until my feet bled. I threw my heels into a bush and kept going, my breath hitching in my chest. I scrambled toward the highway, desperate to get away before the black cars found me.

I was halfway across the old bridge when I heard the roar of an engine.

A massive black motorcycle came screaming around the bend. I didn't even have time to jump out of the way. The rider slammed on the brakes, the bike sliding sideways and coming to a stop just inches from my legs.

He ripped his helmet off. He had dark hair, a jagged scar near his eyebrow, and a look of pure annoyance. His leather vest had a patch: IRON GRAVE MC.

"You trying to die, Princess?" he barked. "Or did you just get lost on the way to the castle?"

I was shaking so hard I could barely speak. In the distance, I saw the black SUVs. Edmund’s men.

"Please," I choked out, grabbing his arm. "I need to get out of here. They’re going to catch me."

He looked at my dress, then at the cars speeding toward us. He let out a low whistle. "A runaway bride. That’s a new one."

"Take me with you. Please. I’ll do whatever you want."

The guy, his name tag said AXEL, looked me up and down. A slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. "Whatever I want? That’s a big promise, "

"Just drive!"

He didn't ask twice. He kicked the bike into gear. "Hold on tight."

I wrapped my arms around his waist and we took off, the wind tearing my veil away. For the first time in my life, I felt like I could breathe.

But the feeling didn't last.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a massive compound surrounded by high concrete walls and barbed wire. Huge iron gates groaned open, and Axel drove us straight into the middle of a courtyard filled with men who looked like they’d killed people for less than a wedding dress.

Axel killed the engine. "We're here."

I slid off the bike, my legs wobbling. A man stepped out from the main building. He was huge, with tattoos crawling up his neck and eyes that looked like they were made of flint. The word PRESIDENT was stitched on his chest.

"Axel," the man said, his voice deep and cold. "Why is there a girl in a wedding dress in my yard?"

"She’s a runner, Ghost," Axel said, leaning back on his bike. "Said she’d do anything if we hid her."

Ghost walked up to me. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off him. He didn't look impressed. He looked like I was a problem he was about to throw in the trash.

"Anything?" Ghost asked. He reached out and grabbed a handful of my white silk dress, his eyes locking onto mine. "We don't do 'charity' here, . If you stay, you belong to the club. All of us. You understand?"

I looked at the gate closing behind me. I looked at the five men now circling us like wolves.

"I understand," I whispered.

Ghost leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "Good. Because if you lie to me, the old man you ran from will be the least of your worries."

He turned to Axel.

"Take her to the basement," Ghost ordered. "And someone get me a price on how much that dress is worth.

We might need to sell it to pay for the trouble she just brought to our door."