Motorcycle Daddy's Captive: An Age Play DDLG Motorcycle Club Romance by Daisy March

Author:Daisy March [March, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-09T18:00:00+00:00

12

Slater

Slater dreamed of the day Nancy died. He was there this time, watching as she was led into the woods where her body would later be found.

He called out to her but no sound came out. She was smiling, like she thought it was a game.

That damned drug.

He tried to run to her, to drag her away but he was attached to a tree like glue, his hands stuck to it.

All he could was watch as she vanished from sight with those three. Zeke, Abraham, and Grant. The names he would never forget. The reason his body was crisscrossed with scars.

He didn’t know it was a dream but it didn’t make sense. The three of them were right there, smoking and laughing with each other, high-fiving as they led her away.

He’d killed them. They couldn’t be alive. He’d not used guns either. He’d challenged them to take him on, three to one. All he had was his hands. They had their blades in hand.

He had walked away covered in blood and feeling that although he couldn’t bring her back, at least he had revenge for what they’d done.

It was a hollow victory. She was still dead.

But she wasn’t dead. She was just over there. Someone banged on the tree next to him. The noise was a dull thud. Then louder. Louder still.

He sat up in bed. The noise was someone knocking on his front door.

He climbed out, glancing down at Beth. She was still fast asleep, curled up on her side, her thumb in her mouth. For a horrifying moment he thought she was dead, she was so still.

Then she stirred, rolling onto her back and he sighed with relief. He’d already lost one woman he loved. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

He would die protecting her if that was what it took to keep her safe.

Another thud on the front door as he threw on a pair of boxer shorts, heading out into the lounge.

“All right,” he growled, pulling the door open, wincing as the bright sunlight stabbed at his eyes.

“Hungover?” a man’s voice said as he blinked in the light.

“Not this time,” he replied. “Mouser, tell me you got something.”

“Not out here,” Mouser said, glancing around him. “Anyone could be listening.”

“It’s the compound,” Slater replied. “The Backwoods Boys aren’t going to be sneaking around here.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about.”

“You better come inside.”

Mouser followed him in, looking like he hadn’t slept.

“Coffee?” Slater asked.

“Make sure it’s got a shit-ton of sugar in it.”

“I’m on it. Keep your voice down though.”

“Why?” Mouser glanced toward the closed bedroom door. “You got yourself a guest?”

Slater nodded as he began to prepare the coffee. When it was done he took two mugs over to the table, sliding one toward Mouser who had placed the memory card in front of him.

“You cracked it?” Slater asked, sipping at his drink.

“A double hash military grade encryption.”

“That supposed to mean something to me?”

“Only that it takes a genius to crack that kind of thing.”

“Spare me the details. Did you crack it?”

“You don’t pay me for my company and good looks, do you?”

“Good work.

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