Claiming Crusher (Savage Brothers MC #4)

He leans down closer to me, so that his lips are beside my ear. He’s wearing some expensive cologne, which might smell great on another man, but the scent is what I associate with Michael and it makes my stomach burn in revulsion.

“I must play nice while you’re in here my dear, but I thought you would need a reminder of why you shouldn’t try to upset me.”

“A reminder?” The fear is thick in my voice. I hate it.

“Oh yes, Melinda”

He holds his phone in front of me. I’m relieved, because I thought he was getting ready to beat me again. I honestly don’t think I can survive another beating. Then he pushes a button and a video plays on his phone.

Ms. Martens is tied and in a porcelain bathtub, gagged. Her large, eyes are wide with fear. I know, because it is an expression that is permanently worn by me. My heart kicks up in denial and a moan of sadness escapes me. My hand goes to my mouth to keep from screaming, as I watch Donald place her fingers in this metal tool and with one push of a lever a finger is cut off. Donald continues, one by one with such a perfect, cold precision until all that is left is her hand from the knuckle down and blood is everywhere. I gag and try to turn away, but Michael grabs my hair and pulls my face back around and it gets worse. I watch as he stabs her, slowly and shallowly at first and then with more vehemence. I watch as the life drains from her eyes. I don’t cry. I want to. I don’t scream. I need to. Instead, I let the weight and truth settle upon my shoulders. I am the reason this woman died.

Michael says more words. I have no idea what they are. I am in shock. I don’t even react when he puts pressure on my chin and forces my lips and gives me his cold kiss. He leaves and I’m sitting in the bed, listening to the beeps of the machines around me and crying. That’s how I am when the orderly comes in. His voice works through the haze surrounding my brain.

“He’ll kill you next time. You need to leave.”

I look at him. He’s older, late forties maybe? His dark hair is definitely more salt than pepper and he has kind green eyes. But, then what do I know of kind?

“I know.” I whisper, because I do. I just don’t care anymore.

“You have to get away.”

“I’ve tried. He always finds me.”

“Do you have any friends to help you? To help you leave the state?”

“I’ve left the state, he finds me,” I answer, tired of this conversation already.

“What about friends he doesn’t know you talk to? Is there somewhere you can go that he’d never suspect you would pick? A way for you to get lost?”

My mind immediately goes to the only two friends I really have in the world, Ray and Nicole. I don’t want to get them involved. I couldn’t live with getting them hurt…or worse. I just couldn’t…Could I?

“He wouldn’t stop hunting me down…”

“Unless he thought you were dead.”

I look up at this stranger’s words. They give me hope. It’s a strange feeling…an odd feeling.

“How? He would never believe it.”

“Make him think you died trying to get away from him.”

My mind goes over his words. Ray would be able to help. He was bragging just last month about dating a hacker. He could help me…Can I do this? Can I risk my friends and put them in danger to do this? Would they be in danger if we succeed in making Michael think I am dead?

My palms are sweaty, my heart rate is crazy and I feel like I’m on the edge of a cliff. The orderly hands me his cell phone. Briefly, I worry he is setting me up. Then I stare at the phone like it might bite me. I have two choices. I can stay here and die—let Michael kill me. Or, I can call Ray and get his and Nic’s help. I hesitate and can feel fear crawl all around me—surrounding me. I can’t let it win…not this time.

I wrap my hands around the phone, dial Ray’s number and pray I’m doing the right thing.





Chapter 1




Dani


Arrival in London, Kentucky

I’ve not had much happiness in my life, but the last year I have managed it. Living with Nicole and Ray was the best thing to ever happen to me. They helped me rebuild my life. Ray helped me burn down the house Michael made my prison. Then, with his help and that of the orderly, we got a Jane Doe from the hospital morgue. We made it appear I had been released from the hospital, came home against doctor’s orders, only to perish in a fire. They did it all, I couldn’t help. I was in such bad shape, I couldn’t even walk. I had to finish my recovery in Ray’s tiny apartment while his boyfriend fixed up my new identity. With a camera, some major league hacking and forged documents, Dani Smith was born.