Page 6 of Carver's Obsession
Carver tilted his head to the side. “Why are you sorry, Babe?”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve disrupted your lives, and I didn’t intend to do that. I swear.”
“Why were you crying?” another man asked.
Erica turned toward him. She couldn’t decide who was the scariest. “It’s …what girls do that sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”
One of the men started picking up her sleeping bag and another her backpack. She tried to reach for it, but the man who held her tightened his grip.
“Can I have my things?” she asked.
“Later. Let’s get to the office. It’s never a good thing to keep the prez waiting,” Carver said and started to half-carry, half-drag her along. She appreciated the support because she didn’t think she’d be able to walk on her own.
Chapter Four
“Can I ask a favor?”
Carver nodded.
“Can you just kill me now? I don’t want to have men … you know. If you won’t let me leave, I just don’t want any more pain. I know it’s asking a lot.”
“You think we’re going to rape and kill you?” another guy asked.
Erica didn’t know what to think. “I don’t know you, and what I’ve heard about biker clubs was never good.”
“Babe, we have sluts if we want to fuck. We don’t need to rape anyone,” Carver said.
“Sluts? What does that mean?” she asked.
“We’ll answer all your questions later,” Carver said.
She stumbled when he pulled her through the doorway, but thankfully caught her.
“I’m sorry,” she told him.
“Stop saying that,” Carver growled.
“Okay. I’m sor…”
The look on his face stopped her from talking.
They walked through a huge kitchen that looked amazingly clean. When he led her through a doorway into what looked like an office, every thought and drop of blood in her head drained away. Carver grabbed onto her when she swayed.
Carver pointed. “That’s Striker behind the desk. He’s our prez. The one on the corner is Feral, and he’s the vice-prez.”
The men looked even scarier in the light, and the one behind the desk was the worst of all. The way he stared made her think he could kill her with just the look.
Erica tried to lock her knees to keep them from trembling. She knew she looked pathetic. She hadn’t had water or food for a few days. Sleep had been tough because every sound made her jerk awake. She also hadn’t bathed for several days or even brushed her hair. Fortunately, she was able to braid her hair to keep it kind of clean and out of her face. She didn’t need to make herself look worse by dropping to the floor.
“Boss, she’s going to faint here pretty soon,” Carver said.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” Striker said.
“I … I’m Erica, and I only want to drop off an envelope to Jana and then leave.” She swallowed as she waited for him to talk.
“How do you know Jana?”
“Oh, well, we used to be sisters.”