Sold to the Biker: A Dark MC Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Sold to the Biker

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  ANOTHER STORY YOU MAY LIKE

  Biker Outlaw’s Virgin Princess

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Table of Contents

  Sold to the Biker

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  ANOTHER STORY YOU MAY LIKE

  Biker Outlaw’s Virgin Princess

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sold to the Biker:

  A Dark MC Romance

  By Bella Rose

  All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2017 Bella Rose.

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  Chapter One

  The throaty rumble of more than a dozen motorcycles rattled the front windows of Chester’s Bike Shop. The old cash register vibrated on the counter, and Lena could hardly hear herself think. She peeked out the front windows and felt her gut tighten in dread. The small gravel parking area in front of the shop was now lined with motorcycles. Riders were climbing off their bikes, which gave her a prime view of the distinctive skull emblem on the backs of their jackets.

  The Road Rashers.

  The small showroom space at Chester’s only had a few bikes on display. There was little to no chance the men were here to peruse the merchandise unless they needed coolant, batteries, or other sundries.

  “Dad!” Lena called over her shoulder. There was no answer. She knew her father—Chester of Chester’s—was in the office. “Dad!”

  “What?” He finally appeared in the doorway. “I’m in the middle of something.”

  Lena snorted. “Online poker is not ‘in the middle of something.’ Did you make the payment?”

  “What?” Her father rubbed the back of his neck looking uncomfortable. “Why?”

  “Dad!” Lena’s unease was turning to panic. “You paid Rocko, right?”

  “There was this horse, Lena.” He was actually whining. “It was a sure thing.”

  “You bet the rent money on a horse race?” Lena thought she might actually lose her breakfast right there on the counter. The Road Rashers owned this building. “How could you?” She stabbed a finger toward the front door. “The Road Rashers are here! Dad, we can’t keep doing this! It’s been months since we paid on time…”

  She stopped talking. There was no point. Her father was shaking his head. The few spindly white hairs on his scalp were greasy, and his eyes were sunken as though he hadn’t slept in days. He probably hadn’t. He was quickly running up mountains of credit card debt with his online poker. She had long ago faced the fact that her father was a hard core gambling addict. He could not hang onto a penny if there was a slot machine anywhere in the vicinity. And since they lived in backwoods Nevada, there were plenty of slot machines to be had.

  Lena paced back and forth behind the counter. Why were the men just standing by their bikes outside? Why didn’t they come in? They were just making it worse. She could hardly stand the anticipation as it was. She had worked so hard to save up enough to pay two months’ rent. That was nowhere near enough to clear their debt to the Road Rashers’ leader—Rocko Trapp—but it would have been enough to buy some goodwill. At least she’d hoped it would be.

  “Dad,” Lena whimpered. “Don’t you see what’s happening?”

  But the dead look in her father’s eyes told Lena that he was beyond reaching.

  Still, he was her father and the only family she had left.

  “They’re going to kill me,” Chester muttered. Then he made a strange whimpering noise like a dog. “I don’t want to die, Lena. I don’t!”

  “Shut up!” She hissed. “Get in the office and close the door. And for shit’s sake, stay off the computer!”

  The office door clicked shut just as the bell over the front door jangled. Lena swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. “Good morning, gentleman. What can I do for you all?”

  The Road Rashers filed into the store wearing their jackets, trademark black denim jeans, and heavy boots. Their leering, angry glares were enough to curl her hair. She clenched her hands together to keep them from shaking.

  “Where’s Mr. Trapp this morning?” Lena asked in what she hoped was a steady voice.

  No answer. This was not getting better. Then the door clanged again and another man walked in. She recognized Stone instantly. He was the second in command over the Road Rashers, and his personality was comparable to a hostile badger’s. He curled his lip at Lena and then made a point of reaching for the first line of shelves just inside the door where they kept the oil filters, oil, and fluids for customers to purchase.

  Stone put his hand behind the first container of oil and flipped it off the shelf. The plastic container shattered. The sound made the other gang members turn to stare. Then they all laughed. As if they’d planned every move, they all grabbed something off a shelf and threw it to the tile floor. Lena felt her breath catch. They were destroying everything!

  “Please don’t!” Lena cried out. “Please?”

  Stone pointed and laughed. “Shut your mouth, bitch. You’re too uppity for your own good anyway. And this is what we do to liars and thieves.”

  “We didn’t steal!” Lena protested. She started out from behind the counter, but then decided against it. “Please stop!”

  But they didn’t stop. The floor ran red and amber with fluids. Mashed up pasteboard boxes from parts soaked in the muck, and a pile of T-shirts and bandanas were stomped into the middle of the floor. Tears burned Lena’s eyes as she tried not to think about the thousands of dollars in damage.

  “We’ll pay the rent!” she shouted. “We will!”

  “Your good for nothing daddy won’t ever hang onto that much mo
ney and you know it!” Stone marched toward her, hands held loose and low at his sides.

  Lena took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped behind the counter. She thought of all the times Stone had asked her out and she’d refused him. If she’d said yes, would it have made him more merciful now?

  Her stomach revolted at the thought. The man was narrower than most of the gang. His thin face was pockmarked and etched with cruelty. Something hard in his eyes always made her more than uneasy. It was like he was unhinged or something. But if she could have saved her father’s store, she would have done anything he asked, even if it meant giving up her body for the safety and well being of her only family.

  ***

  Rocko stretched and threw a leg over his bike. He’d sent Stone inside ahead of him since the two of them couldn’t seem to agree on how to handle the problem of Chester’s. The bike shop should have been making money. They did good business, but Chester gambled away the profits. Since Rocko was the one who owned the building, he seemed to be the only one left to care that the rent wasn’t getting paid.

  This sort of thing was not Rocko’s preference. The Road Rashers had much more lucrative business interests elsewhere. They’d just managed to acquire a small casino on the outskirts of town that saw a lot of tourist traffic. Along with the bar, those two things were pretty much the only moneymakers Rocko saw any use for. This being a landlord crap was too much of a pain in the ass.

  Rocko raised his hands over his head and stretched his shoulders before shoving his way through the front door of Chester’s. He immediately spotted Chester’s very attractive daughter behind the counter. Her face was ashen, and she looked ready to be sick. Chester didn’t appear to be in. Where was the little shit anyway? Had he really left his daughter to deal with his problems? That was low. Rocko turned to look for Chester just in time to see Stone shove a brand new Indian motorcycle over onto the ground. It made a horrific clatter.

  Suddenly a door behind Lena opened. Chester charged out with an angry expression on his face. The man looked bad. His skin was slack, and he seemed to be shrinking. The once robust mechanic and motorcycle salesman looked like a hobo. Sometimes it was really hard to believe that Lena’s willowy form, long cinnamon-colored hair, and green eyes had come from Chester’s gene pool.

  “What’s going on out here?” Chester roared. “You can’t come in here and destroy my shop!”

  “Actually,” Rocko argued. “We can. One, because you owe me a lot of money. And two, because you can’t do a damn thing about it.”

  “Asshole!” Chester snatched a shotgun from underneath the counter. He raised it and aimed right at Rocko. “I’ll blow you to bits right here. Don’t you think I won’t!”

  Adrenaline flooded Rocko’s veins. He sensed his men starting to close in. He put out his hands to tell them to back off.

  “You don’t want to do that,” he told Chester. “You murder me, and my men will rip you to pieces. Then God knows what they’ll do to Lena. Don’t you think you’ve given that girl enough grief?”

  From the corner of his eye he saw Lena take a breath as though she were going to insert herself into this scenario. He willed her to shut up. Now was not the time. His fingers crept closer to the knife he kept near his right hip beneath his jacket.

  “You’re a disease!” Chester snarled. “You take and you take. We can’t pay you!”

  “Chester, you’re my tenant,” Rocko said drily. He felt the hilt of the knife against his palm and closed his fingers. “You owe me rent. That’s all I ever wanted. You gamble. You steal. And you gamble some more. You’re the one with the disease.”

  “Fuck you!” Chester was actually crying. It was pathetic. “You don’t know what it’s like! I was so close! So close, and I would have gotten it all back and more!”

  Oh yeah, Rocko knew that song and dance. He’d heard that same line from his own father time and time again. But it was just that...a line.

  Before Chester could do anything else stupid, Rocko launched the knife in one fluid movement. He began the throw from his hip and sent the blade straight into Chester’s shoulder.

  The old man squealed like a pig and dropped the shotgun. The weapon discharged. Rocko’s men hit the deck. Rocko managed to throw himself to one side as birdshot peppered the shop’s ceiling. Rocko’s eardrums crackled at the boom echoing around the inside of the building.

  “Everyone all right?” Rocko turned to look at his men. There were nods all around, but the sour expression on Stone’s face did not bode well for the rest of this encounter. Stone was more than done dealing with Chester.

  “Dad?” Lena was kneeling beside her worthless father. “Oh my God, you—you knifed him!”

  Rocko moved closer and knelt by Chester’s side. The man had toppled to the ground when the knife had entered his shoulder. Now Rocko grabbed the hilt and yanked the blade free. He knew the man was in pain because he felt the blade grate against bone on the way out. It didn’t matter. The old man needed to learn a lesson.

  “I could kill you,” Rocko told Chester. He placed his blade against the old man’s neck.

  Lena whimpered. “No! Don’t hurt him. He’s all I have left!”

  “He’s not worth your concern.” Rocko knew he was being cruel, but at this point he didn’t care.

  “Take me instead.”

  Rocko raised his eyebrows. What on earth was the girl talking about? “Take you where?”

  “Instead of my father,” she explained. “Just take me. Do whatever you want with me. I’ll be your slave if you want. Just don’t hurt him.”

  “You want to be my slave.” Rocko could not hide his distaste for the notion.

  Lena looked embarrassed. “I know I’m not much, but surely you can find something for me to do to pay off the debt.” Her gaze darted past him at his men, and her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “But...only for you. No one else.”

  So she thought he found her inadequate? That probably made this easier. If nothing else, he could get her out of this hellhole. Maybe she’d get a fucking clue and realize that her father was nothing but a gambling addict who would disappoint her over and over again. Not that he’d ever really understood that himself until it was far too late.

  The look of desperation on her face hit him hard. He remembered feeling that way. She deserved better. He could help her. He had that power. And maybe in helping her there was a part of him that hoped to redeem himself just a little. If that was possible.

  “Fine,” Rocko agreed. “You give yourself to me, and only me, for thirty days, and I’ll let this worthless piece of shit live.” Rocko reached down and smacked the side of Chester’s face. “Did you hear that, you old loser? Your daughter just paid for your life with her body. Don’t fuck up this last chance, or she’ll pay the price. Got it?”

  Chapter Two

  Lena was too stunned to move. But her father had no such handicap. As Rocko and his gang filed out of the shop, Chester toddled behind. He was still grabbing his injured shoulder, his steps uneven and faltering. The way his clothes hung on his body made him seem like a scarecrow come to life.

  “Wait!” Chester shouted. “You can’t do that! It’s illegal. It’s—it’s just wrong.”

  Lena moved toward the doorway, wondering what Rocko’s response would be. Surely a man like that wouldn’t care one bit what was legal. Gangs didn’t worry about the law. They probably prided themselves on breaking it.

  Rocko threw one leg over his big black motorcycle. The chrome pipes gleamed in the hot Nevada sun. He looked at Chester as though he was examining a bug he might not even care to squash. “You’re standing there lecturing me about what’s right and wrong? What kind of man lets his daughter take the heat for his own mistakes? Think about that. She’s your kid. You protect a kid. You love her. You take care of her.” Rocko made a derisive noise and gestured toward Lena’s father. “But your gambling addiction is more powerful than anything you feel for her. So don’t tell me what I�
��m doing is wrong. I’m doing that girl a favor.”

  Lena bit her lip. Was that really how Rocko saw her? Some pathetic waif who needed saving? She felt her temper rise to the bait. She would show him. She wasn’t some helpless girl.

  “Hey!” she shouted.

  His unnerving gaze slid in her direction. “What?”

  “How will I find you?”

  “I’ll come for you.” The corner of his mouth twisted into what might have been considered a smile. To Lena it just looked frightening. “Two hours. Have your stuff ready to go.”

  Lena was taken aback by his lackadaisical manner. He was basically taking her on as an indentured servant, and yet it was a lark to him. Then he started his bike, and the roar of his engine and his men’s motorcycles drowned out anything else Lena might have wanted to say.

  The Road Rashers left in a hail of gravel and dust. They were long down the two lane road before Lena stopped choking on the dirt hanging in the air. She watched them go. Her father had already run back into the store. She could hear him muttering and throwing stuff around. With a sigh, she went back inside.

  “Get your stuff!” Chester told her tersely. He was spinning a slow circle inside the store. His hands were glued to the top of his head as though he thought he needed to hold it on. There was a look of such confusion on his face that Lena was almost afraid. “Hurry! We’ve got to get out of here. We’ll just leave town.”

  He ran to the cash register and popped it open. Stuffing bills into his pockets, he waved her toward the back of the store where they had a little airstream trailer that had been home for nearly all her life.

  Lena shook her head. “Where would we go?” She had to shout to be heard over Chester’s muttering and slamming stuff around. He had moved into the office where they had a small floor safe for cash drops—if there were any.

  “What?” Her father reappeared in the office doorway. “What are you talking about? It doesn’t matter where we go. I have a friend. He’s out by the track. We’ll go there.”

  “So you can go hang out at the horse track every day gambling and feeling sorry for yourself?” The sting of tears made Lena blink furiously. She could not cry. Not now. It wouldn’t help. “Dad, there’s nothing to be done. You’re the one in the wrong here.”