CHAINED: A Motorcycle Club Romance Read Online Free Page B
Author: Samantha Westlake
pulling in like a turtle retreating into its shell. Those eyes, however, remained defiantly on Cheery, refusing to drop and look away.
"Escaped?" Cheery risked a glance at Cain. The man gave his head a subtle little shake. He couldn't think of anywhere nearby from which someone might escape - no jails, psychiatric facilities, anything like that.
Jenna nodded. "Yeah. From the van."
Another glance at Cain revealed that the Iron Skull was just as confused as Cheery. "The van? Where did this van come from?"
"It came from..." Jenna's voice trailed off, and Cheery saw the girl start to shake. "It came from, from, from someplace scary. I don't remember - but I won't go back! I'll die first!"
Tears were pouring down the girl's face, and she was shaking like a leaf in a storm. Cheery started to move around the counter to put her arms around the girl, just as much to catch her as to comfort her, but Cain was closer, and he beat her to it.
For a moment, as the biker's big arm settled around her, Jenna froze, every muscle in her body snapping and going tense. But then, a fraction of a second later, she collapsed in against Cain's side, sobbing and clinging furiously to the man.
"Shh," Cain murmured, keeping his arm around the weeping girl. But over Jenna's head, he shot a helpless, impotent glance at Cheery. This is all your fault, and I don't want to be dealing with it, that glance said, as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud. Help me out of this, or I'm going to find some way to push it back onto you.
"Dear, come here, it's okay," Cheery murmured, sliding her own arms in around Jenna, carefully tugging her away from Cain. "Here, I know what will help you feel better. How about a nice, hot shower? It will get some of that dirt off of you, out of your hair, and it always makes me feel way better."
Jenna was still sniffling, but she glanced up at Cheery. The whore knew that the girl was on the fence, so she pressed a little more. "And I've got some lovely shampoo that will make your hair feel amazing," she insisted, carefully lifting the girl up from her seat on her stool. "And I bet I can find some nice, clean clothes that will fit you. Brandy's probably about your size."
Cain, now that he was free of the girl's clutches, started to stand up, but Cheery fixed him in place with one last glare. "And you," she ordered, even as she started to lead Jenna out of the kitchen and towards the largest of the bathrooms.
"What?"
Cheery nodded towards the girl clutching her. "Figure out what the hell is going on," she told Cain. "I know you hate mysteries, but you'd better be the one to get to the bottom of this, unless you want this to become the normal state of affairs!"
For just a moment, Cheery wondered if she'd pushed too far. Cain didn't exactly have a short temper; it wasn't as if he angrily lashed out or got into fights. But beneath a very thin veneer of quiet thoughtfulness, the man was pure iron. Cheery had almost never heard him raise his voice, but when anyone pushed him too hard, he simply shut down and refused, and no amount of threats or cajoling could move him.
Even after years of living in the man's house, Cheery still sometimes wasn't sure that she knew where that line lay. And most of the time, she made sure to keep a safe distance, worried about how Cain might respond if she tried to push too hard.
Now, trying not to show any concern, she still held her breath as Cain frowned. Was he going to tell her no, to use that calm, scarily emotionless voice of his to order her to get her things and haul her ass out of his house?
But then, after what felt like an eternity, Cain dropped his eyes and nodded. Just once, briefly, but it was a nod nonetheless. "I'll see," he allowed.
"Thank you." Cheery really meant it.
Then, before Cain could add anything else, or her mouth could drop her into any more hot water, Cheery returned her attention back to the thin girl clinging to her side. "Now, let's see about getting you nice and
"Escaped?" Cheery risked a glance at Cain. The man gave his head a subtle little shake. He couldn't think of anywhere nearby from which someone might escape - no jails, psychiatric facilities, anything like that.
Jenna nodded. "Yeah. From the van."
Another glance at Cain revealed that the Iron Skull was just as confused as Cheery. "The van? Where did this van come from?"
"It came from..." Jenna's voice trailed off, and Cheery saw the girl start to shake. "It came from, from, from someplace scary. I don't remember - but I won't go back! I'll die first!"
Tears were pouring down the girl's face, and she was shaking like a leaf in a storm. Cheery started to move around the counter to put her arms around the girl, just as much to catch her as to comfort her, but Cain was closer, and he beat her to it.
For a moment, as the biker's big arm settled around her, Jenna froze, every muscle in her body snapping and going tense. But then, a fraction of a second later, she collapsed in against Cain's side, sobbing and clinging furiously to the man.
"Shh," Cain murmured, keeping his arm around the weeping girl. But over Jenna's head, he shot a helpless, impotent glance at Cheery. This is all your fault, and I don't want to be dealing with it, that glance said, as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud. Help me out of this, or I'm going to find some way to push it back onto you.
"Dear, come here, it's okay," Cheery murmured, sliding her own arms in around Jenna, carefully tugging her away from Cain. "Here, I know what will help you feel better. How about a nice, hot shower? It will get some of that dirt off of you, out of your hair, and it always makes me feel way better."
Jenna was still sniffling, but she glanced up at Cheery. The whore knew that the girl was on the fence, so she pressed a little more. "And I've got some lovely shampoo that will make your hair feel amazing," she insisted, carefully lifting the girl up from her seat on her stool. "And I bet I can find some nice, clean clothes that will fit you. Brandy's probably about your size."
Cain, now that he was free of the girl's clutches, started to stand up, but Cheery fixed him in place with one last glare. "And you," she ordered, even as she started to lead Jenna out of the kitchen and towards the largest of the bathrooms.
"What?"
Cheery nodded towards the girl clutching her. "Figure out what the hell is going on," she told Cain. "I know you hate mysteries, but you'd better be the one to get to the bottom of this, unless you want this to become the normal state of affairs!"
For just a moment, Cheery wondered if she'd pushed too far. Cain didn't exactly have a short temper; it wasn't as if he angrily lashed out or got into fights. But beneath a very thin veneer of quiet thoughtfulness, the man was pure iron. Cheery had almost never heard him raise his voice, but when anyone pushed him too hard, he simply shut down and refused, and no amount of threats or cajoling could move him.
Even after years of living in the man's house, Cheery still sometimes wasn't sure that she knew where that line lay. And most of the time, she made sure to keep a safe distance, worried about how Cain might respond if she tried to push too hard.
Now, trying not to show any concern, she still held her breath as Cain frowned. Was he going to tell her no, to use that calm, scarily emotionless voice of his to order her to get her things and haul her ass out of his house?
But then, after what felt like an eternity, Cain dropped his eyes and nodded. Just once, briefly, but it was a nod nonetheless. "I'll see," he allowed.
"Thank you." Cheery really meant it.
Then, before Cain could add anything else, or her mouth could drop her into any more hot water, Cheery returned her attention back to the thin girl clinging to her side. "Now, let's see about getting you nice and
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