Firefight: The Soul Scorchers MC (The Scorched Souls Serial-series Book 2) Read Free

money. And so what if she’d insulted me behind my back. It wasn’t the first time someone had made cheap shots at me when they thought I wasn’t listening; it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.
    Now, because of my scheming, she’d turned my world upside down and inside out. How one woman could cause such a tornado of turmoil was beyond me. It seemed for now, I’d have to bunker down and survive the storm.
    Olympia
    I gasped for air and struggled to escape the flames.
    Thrashing to free myself, I realized I wasn’t engulfed by flames, but tangled in a silky sheet. Forcing myself to breathe, I opened my eyes.
    It was dark, but I could see the dimmest glow beyond the door that separated me from whatever waited just out of sight. Ajar about an inch, the light filtered in. Low voices drifted back to where I remained on the bed, trying to get my bearings.
    Boone was the one waiting for me on the other side of the door. That much I remembered.
    He had dragged me from our temporary home at the clubhouse, to an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere. We’d left our kids behind in the care of another biker, the one who resembled a scary serial killer and refused to shave. I cringed at the thought, though my boys seemed to find him far less frightening than I did. For all I knew, he was the Mother Teresa of bikers, but if I had to guess, I’d say more like Jack the Ripper.
    Swinging my legs around, my feet found the floor. I noticed then that Boone had removed my jeans and shoes, leaving me wearing a snug T-shirt and a pair of skimpy panties. I glanced around the room, but failed to spot my jeans. Oh well. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me naked and in every possible position last night.
    Speaking of which, my ass was sore from his spanking; my pussy ached like it had been impaled with a baseball bat, and my neck was tender from his grip. I had no doubt if I looked in a mirror, I would see light bruises that matched his fingertips, dotting my throat. They’d been visible this morning, to anyone sharing the kitchen with me.
    But despite the lingering pain, I wanted him again. Now.
    Like he’d told me, more than once, I used to be a big time slut; it appeared I still was a slut to want more punishment in my current condition. He’d also made sure to point out I’d been pregnant with our oldest son at fifteen, and that I’d gone as far to question his paternity.
    How many lovers did a fifteen year old girl have, for goodness sake?
    As a couple, we evidently had an open relationship. He’d mentioned that disgusting fact several times too. Again, more evidence of my slut-hood.
    Pushing those claims aside, I considered his gentler ministrations.
    He’d been so attentive following our rough sex play, massaging me with soothing ointment and even bathing me. Everything had been perfect, and I’d finally started to feel secure, until Twila attempted to stir up shit with her accusations. If that had been the only problem, I could have dealt with it. But adding to my confusion was our sudden flight from what was supposed to be an impenetrable, underground compound.
    What made the whole escape to this place even stranger was the fact that we had left behind our family and friends to avoid the ATF. That didn’t make any sense, not to me anyway.
    It seemed that a government organization equipped to deal with arsonists would be the ideal agency for us to turn to in light of my recent fire ordeal, but not according to Boone. My husband or ‘old man’ insisted he was the only one able to protect me from harm.
    Something didn’t add up. Actually, nothing was adding up right.
    I didn’t remember who I was or even a small piece of my life prior to Boone rescuing me in the woods. I’d had one lone memory, so far, showcasing Boone watching me at what had to be our swimming pool – pre-fire. But other than that brief vision, nothing, nada, zip. I was clueless.
    That needed to change.
    It was time for Boone to spill his secrets. I