Bred By the MC Prez by Sam Crescent Page 0,7

Forge made people disappear, that he had no conscience to speak of.

He twisted slightly to the side to get a look at her. “You’re not the only one looking for something you’ve never been given. Maybe one day you won’t see me as the monster who buys girls from their fathers.”

Once he finished dressing, he sat on a chair facing her and pulled on a pair of black shitkickers. He was the devil personified. So why did she crave his lips on hers?

He got up to leave and a rush of panic made her heart race. “Where are you going?”

“Do I answer to you now, Ms. Peterson?” He raised an eyebrow, one hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t call me that. Please.”

“It’s your name, no?”

“It’s my father’s name, so I want no part of it.”

Forge smiled. “Good girl.” He held out his hand, beckoning her to come.

Her cheeks flushed hot as excitement trickled through her veins. Beth approached him with caution.

“You want to come with me?”

She nodded without hesitation. The thought of sitting in his room, wondering who’d come in and find her there was a terrifying prospect. She only felt safe with Forge, and even that didn’t make sense.

“Stay close to me.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Beth followed right behind him as he walked down the long hallway. Every step he took screamed authority. Anyone would be a fool to stand up to a man like Forge. He was tall, his shoulders impossibly broad.

And she knew what he looked like without the shirt on.

There were a few men at the bottom of a staircase. The smell of smoke made her nose wrinkle. They stared at her like she had two heads. It was unnerving. If it weren’t for Forge, she would have run the other way.

“Hound fill you in about my girl?”

A couple of them shook their heads. “Haven’t seen him yet today,” said the biggest of the three. He nodded toward her. “She the one we picked up yesterday? What are we supposed to know?”

“She’ll be staying at the club on a permanent basis. I’m keeping her, and I’m going to get real fucking petty if one of you can’t keep your eyes or hands to themselves. Understand?”

“Sure, boss. Not a problem.”

The men didn’t look afraid, but it was also clear they wouldn’t dare disobey Forge.

“She has full protection of the club, too. Until we make things official, spread the word,” said Forge.

Beth hadn’t realized she’d balled the back of his shirt into her fists until he turned to look at her.

“You ready to go?”

She nodded, sticking to him like glue as they passed the thugs in the stairwell.

Beth took a deep breath of fresh air once they emerged outside from the main level. She hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings yesterday. It had been dark and she’d been terrified beyond measure. Now she had a chance to look around. They were far off the grid, and the scent of pine infused in the air. She’d only ever lived in the core of the city, so this was different.

“So many trees,” she muttered.

“Over the years, I’ve learned that trees are a lot easier to live with than people. All I’ve ever needed was my club.”

She wanted to be included in the equation, not just his club. There was a broken darkness in Forge, and she felt connected to him because of it.

“Where are we going?”

Forge ignored her question until he reached a Harley parked at the side of the clubhouse. It was separate from the others, and he immediately slung his leg over the side and sat down. He glanced over at her standing there on the sidelines. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart?”

Chapter Three

Beth had never ridden bikes before coming here. She’d never gone to the park to enjoy life, nor had she ever had any fun. Her father had always dominated her life. He’d been there to keep her in line and tell her what to do. There was never a time when she could be her own person. He was always there, waiting, ordering her around, telling her what to do. His word had been law.

She didn’t have a choice in the matter. She had to follow his instructions, his rules for as long as she could remember. No matter how much she hated him, he’d tried to beat her into submission. In a way, she’d followed him for fear of the pain, but that had been as far as she’d been willing to

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