บททั้งหมดของ Daddies Underground MC Club: บทที่ 241 - บทที่ 250

Echo’s POVI’m taking her. I decided last night, somewhere between her screaming my name and me coming so hard I saw stars. She’s mine, and today’s the day I make it official. I’m parked across the street, engine off, helmet dangling like a trophy, eyes locked on her front door. The bike makes it trickier, can’t exactly stuff her in a saddlebag, but she loves me. Why else would she use that toy, moan my name like a prayer, come apart knowing I was watching? Come on.I’m patient. Very fucking patient. But this waiting is killing me, slow and torturous, like a hangover without the fun part. She lost her job, my doing, indirectly, thanks to Evan’s face meeting my fist, so she has to leave the house eventually. I made sure of it. Slipped in at dawn, tipped out her coffee like a good boyfriend providing motivation. No caffeine,

Echo’s POVI lock the door with a savage twist and storm back through into the bar like a hurricane with a grudge. I don’t stop, don’t even glance at the peanut gallery. I round the bar, snatch a bottle of Jack, and plant my ass on a stool. Fuck the glass. I rip the cap off with my teeth and chug like it’s holy water and I’m possessed.“Echo.”“Not now, Knoxie,” I grumble, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.“Yes now,” Ghost snaps, slamming a meaty paw on the bar hard enough to rattle bottles. “What the fuck? You kidnapped someone. I thought the stalking was peak psycho, but kidnapping?”Knox jumps in his face red. “What happens now, genius? She reports you, you get another restraining order, or

Echo’s POVI glare across at her like she’s a glitch in the matrix. She’s fucking smiling. Anyone else would be screaming, clawing at the walls, plotting their escape via the air vents. But no. She’s lounging on the barstool like it’s a beach chair in Cancun, sipping whiskey and looking relaxed. Relaxed! I’m naked except for the bunny helmet, and she’s acting like this is a casual Tuesday.“Echo, can you get some clothes on?” Ghost mutters, rubbing his temples like I’m giving him a migraine.I don’t trust her not to bolt the second I turn around. Hell, she’d probably shank me with a pool cue and skip out humming. “As soon as she goes back in that room,” I say, pointing at her like she’s a feral raccoon.She glares back, hard enough to melt steel.

Davina’s POVThe guys here are nice, strangely nice, like they’ve been trained not to leer or grab, which is weird for a biker den that smells like whiskey and regret. Knox offers to drive me home since Psycho McBunny took my car keys. Tempting. Real tempting. But that’s exactly what Echo expects, me running like a scared little rabbit. So I stay. Planted on a barstool, sipping the whiskey he tried to confiscate, smirking into the glass like I own the place.I overhear them talking, Echo left his phone behind. Perfect. When they set it on the bar like it’s community property, I snatch it smooth as silk, tucking it into the pocket of his oversized T-shirt. He took my phone. I’m taking his. And I’m gonna make him pay.An hour drags by. No Echo. No Theo. Just the low hum of biker chatt

Davina’s POVOne minute I’m teasing the camera propped on the side unit, voice all honey and sin, the next I’m flipped onto my stomach, face smashed into the mattress, screaming in shock. My head whips around, and I see… fluffy white. Pink ears. A fucking bunny suit.Echo. What the actual fuck? He’s a six-foot psycho in a plush onesie, and I’m so stunned by the sheer absurdity that I don’t even register my wrists are tied to the headboard until I yank and they don’t budge.“Let me go!” I snarl, kicking out hard. My heel connects with something solid, his thigh, maybe, but he catches my ankle mid-swing as I try to kick him again, grip like iron.“You wanna call him Sir?” he growls, voice raw and unhinged, the bunny helmet