All Chapters of The Devil's Viking (The Road Devils MC 3): Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Well, well,” Gideon said in a drawl that struck terror into the men’s hearts. “Here I’ve lost a woman-servant and gained two dedicated, honest, servile men in her place. Pretty good deal. Unless…”Both men literally stopped breathing.“Unless, of course, one of my oh-so-honest Guardians, men who I trust with my life and values and property, actually helped my woman-servant escape.”Thunderstruck, Jonah and Michael forgot themselves; in unison and without permission, they raised their heads to stare at Gideon’s hard, handsome face. Was he actually saying that one of them had risked their necks to get a pathetic whore out and away? And then they voluntarily stuck around the morning after?“Master,” Jonah faltered as Michael made inarticulate sounds of pure fear. “Please – I didn’t –”“You didn’t?” The silken blade was back. “Really?”“No. I mean yes, really! I mean no, Master, I’d never –”“You were the last in the women’s dormitory, were you not, Guardian Jonah?” Now the blade was a

Viking pulled into the Road Devil’s parking lot and let out a sigh of mixed happiness and exhaustion. It was just past eleven o’clock in the morning, and he was going on almost two full days of zero sleep. He hoped that the guys at the Garage had the coffee on, but in a pinch, he’d meander over to Satan’s Bar and see if Rebel would maybe open the kitchen an hour early. He needed to get that order of french fries soon anyway, or he’d pass out where he stood.He was just stretching out his back when the guys started appearing from the various Road Devils businesses: his fellow Blue Dragon Ink workers, Arrow and Saint, were coming out of the tattoo parlour as Dux and Drake, the twins, walked out from the Garage. By the time he’d greeted them all, Wolf, Scars and Ice had joined the group, wearing matching grim expressions.Viking exchanged looks with the three of them, loaded and meaningful looks. After all, he’d hauled ass out to Utah with a dead body on the say-so of the motorcycle club

She was standing there in a white nightgown and men’s boots and not much else. It was obvious now that she was a woman – she didn’t have much in the way of breasts, but the thin gown left exactly nothing to the imagination. Anyone with eyes would see that she was no man, not even a teenaged boy.Iris had nothing left to lose anymore; she was as trapped and helpless as she’d been when she was drugged into compliance by Gideon and his monster Guardians. That same crazed courage that got her up and out of the compound, and told her to give the camera the finger, and pushed her to hide in the back of a stranger’s van, rose up in her again, making her feel that odd combination of reckless and invincible.Ignoring the man’s order to wait, she ripped the scarf from her face and then raised her head and stood in front of them, fully exposed for who and what she was. She was at the mercy of these men now, and she knew it. All she could hope was that whatever they did to her, it wasn’t as bad a

“OK, well.” Ice paused. “Starting with the good thoughts: in terms of all the shit with Jo’s ex, I’m actually not worried about Crusher Alcott and his Hellions. I’m not even worried that Fielding was actually staying here in Denver with Dawson Kinney and his Blood Crew, and that there’s a connection closer to us through them. Yeah, by now they’ll all have noticed that Fielding is gone, and yeah, they’ll wonder why. For about ten minutes. Then they’ll either figure that he fled the country to get away from the federal investigation into him, or that he’s dead, maybe courtesy of us. Either way, they won’t worry about any of it too much.”“But blackmail?” Scars asked. “Isn’t this something they could hold over our heads, that Fielding went missing right at the time he was looking to hurt Jo?”“Why would they?” Ice said sensibly. “Blackmail is useless without leverage and whatever leverage that exists is scattered all over fucking Utah. Viking is a damn good body man – how many people did

Iris sat on what was apparently her bed, in what was now apparently her bedroom. The dark-haired, dark-eyed bartender had handed her a bunch of towels as the tall, gorgeous, blonde woman named Zoe had led her through the bar and up some stairs under a large sign marked ‘Private’.She’d followed Zoe and her sky-high legs to the very end of the hallway, then followed her into a small space, barely big enough for a bed and a dresser and an armchair. Despite it being cramped by normal standards, Iris was sitting staring around her, still astounded at the space, at the sheer luxury of having space of her own. She’d forgotten what it was like to be alone. For the past year, eyes had been on her all at almost all times; her skin had constantly prickled with the awareness that someone, somewhere, was watching her.Zoe had given her some sweaters and leggings, and they were hanging off her all over the place. Zoe was slim, but Iris was tiny, and so she’d rolled the sleeves up three times and t