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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Dark Curves (Dangerous Curves 6): Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

95 Kabanata

Prologue 1

Jackson Taylor was just climbing into bed when his cell phone went off. Not his personal phone, though, and not his phone for King’s Men. No, it was his third phone, the one that Jack used for the specific purpose of staying in contact with Ace Cuddy. Right away, Jack’s whole body went into high-alert mode. Code Red, man, and no lie.He grabbed the phone, stared at the number for a second. Yeah, it was Ace – which was good, Jack supposed – but everything else about this call was potentially bad.The arrangement was that Jack called Ace, never the other way around. Ace stuck to texts, and they never said more than ‘OK’ as Ace agreed to a meeting time and place that Jack proposed.Also? How did Jack know for sure that it was Ace at the other end of the line? Maybe his cover had been blown, his phone taken… and the voice that would come out into Jack’s ear would belong to one of Ace’s Fallen Angels MC brothers, looking to see who the hell their President had been talking to secretly.If

Prologue 2

Privately, Jack thought that was pretty sad. But then again, it’s not like he’d spent Christmas trimming the tree and opening presents with a smiling wife and a few overexcited kids. Maybe he needed to dial down the judgment just a bit.“The second you can, you call me,” Jack said now. “Tell me what the hell.”“I will.”“And as soon as you move her, you leave Warren with her as guard, OK? Alone, if you can. Just like we discussed.”“Yeah. Just like we discussed.”Without another word, Jack disconnected the call, as far from sleep now as it was possible to be. The thought that an innocent woman had gotten caught up in all this shit made his stomach clench up, hard. Shay was taking the fall for something that she’d had nothing to do with: she’d been taken because Ace had been passing intel on to Jack, who’d in turn passed it on to King. From there, King had mobilized his team of ex-special-ops types, known collectively as King’s Men. With the local cops and the feds, they’d busted seve

Chapter One

Warren ‘Derby’ Kane stared at the woman in front of him, his face carefully arranged in a cold, hard expression. Over the past eight months, he’d practiced the look in front of a mirror for hours on end, and now he could just slip it on at will.She tossed her blonde hair over her slim shoulder, hitched her barely-there skirt high enough to flash her bare pussy, gave Warren a smoldering, sexy little glance. One that clearly said, ‘Come fuck me.’ One that should have had him hard enough to pound nails. One that was every teenaged boy and grown man’s wet dream.He couldn’t have been less interested.All he wanted was to get the hell out of there. Away from the blonde missing her panties, away from this biker bar, away from his fellow MC members. Away from his whole damn life.Eight months ago, Warren had taken a wrong turn. He’d set foot on a road without really understanding what he was doing, and that had led him to some horrible, horrifying places. He’d beaten people up, he’d burned

Chapter Two

The blonde was losing patience with him now, he was relieved to see. She made one last-ditch effort, though, and he hardened his face even more as she shimmied on up to him, climbed on to his lap.“Hey, Derby,” she purred.“Hey, Lisa,” he responded, keeping his hands on the table.She gyrated on him now, so slow and sexy, but his cock didn’t so much as twitch. Yeah, he liked blondes, but he didn’t like one-night-stands. The one small victory that he’d managed to claim and hold onto in these nightmare eight months was that he hadn’t had sex with any of the women who got passed around the club like goddamn bottles of ketchup. Not that they were bad people, some of them. A few of them were actually incredibly sweet girls, and Warren didn’t know why they’d hang around The Fallen Angels, sucking and fucking the men on demand. On the pool tables, under the bar, in the back rooms – if a guy asked, some woman would happily deliver.Warren had never asked, never would ask. But that didn’t mea

Chapter Three

Four hours later, Warren slammed the button on his alarm clock, rolled over with a groan. Jesus God, he was tired. He’d slept badly, far worse than usual, and his sheets were a tangled mess all around him.He forced his ass up, forced his ass into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, took in his eyes all bloodshot from lack of sleep, his tousled dark-blond hair, his muscular chest covered in tattoos. He ran his hand over his beard, briefly considered giving it a trim, decided against it. Of all the ways that he’d changed over the past eight months, there were only two that he actually liked. The first was the ink, though he hated that the large one on his upper back was the official Fallen Angels tattoo. It made him feel marked and dirty, but at least it was behind him, so he didn’t have to look at it. The second was his beard.Warren was almost twenty-six years old, but he’d always looked way younger. He knew now that it had partly been a naturally youthful appearance,

Chapter Four

Warren entered the clubhouse at ten to eight and followed the smell of coffee. He poured a huge mug of the stuff, ignored the milk and sugar. It was an unspoken rule that real men drank black coffee, and although he hated the bitter taste, he needed the caffeine. Badly.He leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee, and surveyed the large main room. It was a disaster area, naturally, as it always was first thing in the morning, and before the underpaid cleaning ladies arrived. Broken glass and cigarette butts covered the floor, empty bottles and dishes and articles of women’s clothing were strewn around all over the damn place, and the women themselves were naked and draped over the furniture, passed out cold.He averted his eyes from the miles of flesh on display, hoped hard that none of the girls had been forced the night before. Nobody had ever complained, but then again, this wasn’t the kind of place where a sexual assault claim would be taken all that seriously. “Derby.”Warren

Chapter Five

The woman sobbed once more, and Joker took a menacing step towards her.“I just said –” he growled, his arm raised to backhand her.“Hold up,” Ace said, stopping Joker. “Nobody touches her. Kirk’s orders. He wants her unharmed until negotiations begin, in case we have to provide proof of life.”At the mention of Kirk’s name, Joker backed up, and Warren quietly exhaled in relief. He was happy that beating a woman around didn’t appear to be in his job description, since he had no stomach for that at all. Having said that, he wasn’t totally delighted that this woman somehow had ties to Kirk Jensen. Warren made a point of staying away from him as much as possible, and had managed to avoid so much as making direct eye contact with the man. But if this woman was on Kirk’s shit list, and Warren was involved with her in some way, then his luck had just run out. He stared at her now, his face as blank as he knew how to make it, giving away none of his annoyance and unease. His first thought

Chapter Six

Three hours later, Warren shut and locked the door behind Ace and Joker. And there he was: all alone in a remote cabin, way up high in the Rocky Mountains, with a woman that he now knew to be Shay Alcott. A woman that he now knew to be a hostage, a bargaining chip, a hopeful ace-in-the-hole. A messy, worrying, dangerous headache.Goddammit.Warren sighed, turned to face her. This whole time, she’d been sitting on the sofa bound and gagged. As Ace had filled him in, Warren had studied her closely, watching her reactions. She’d look stunned as what was going on had become clear to her, then she had started to cry again, without making a sound. Her shoulders had shaken, though, and he’d felt her terror from six feet away.He approached her now, and she pushed herself against the sofa back. He stood over her, and she stared down at the floor, avoiding his gaze.“Hey,” he said, his deep voice coming out way harsher than he’d intended. She flinched as though he’d struck her, and he cleared

Chapter Seven

Shay took a deep breath, then another one. Warren watched her lick her lips, and realized that she’d been without food or water for hours. How many hours, he wondered. God, maybe as many as fourteen. That was no damn good: the last thing he needed was her passing out on him from hunger or dehydration.Abruptly, without a word, he spun around, stalked over to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, put it on the island.“C’mere,” he said roughly. “Drink.”Shay hesitated, still hugging herself.“Come. Here.” His voice was pure steel now. “Don’t make me come over there and get you, girl. You won’t like it if that happens.”She gave a small gasp, stumbled to her feet. He watched as she swayed for a few seconds, and he had the uneasy thought that she’d pass out almost for certain. God knows, she’d been through a lot, and if she felt dizzy or faint, he wouldn’t be surprised.Shay gritted her teeth, and seemed to give herself a mental shake. Her first steps were slow, but

Chapter Eight

“Yeah, you’ll be doing all the cooking,” he informed her, playing the macho idiot to the hilt. “I hope you don’t have a problem with that, girl.”She shook her head, her hair glowing in the winter sunlight.“Good.” He settled on to a stool, waved his hand. “Get to it. And no touching the knives, you hear me? I got ‘em locked up, and if you need one, I’ll get it.”“Yes,” she said softly, then she looked embarrassed. “Can I just –” Her voice broke off, and she blushed a bright red.“Can you what?” he said. “Can I…ummmm. Can I freshen up?”“Yeah.” He stood up again, jerked his head. “This way, down the hall. You go first.”She walked down the hallway slowly, keeping her eyes down. She saw the tile floor, paused, glanced up.Warren knew that there was nothing at all in the bathroom for him to worry about, in terms of weapons or an escape attempt. The cleaning supplies were under lock-and-key in the linen closet, there were no glass bottles anywhere, there was no window, and his razors we

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