Текст книги "Wrenched"

Автор книги: Emma James

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WRENCHED

Copyright © 2015 by Emma James

Published by Emma James.

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. Except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For permission requests, email the author at [email protected]

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places are incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy of each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Cover Design & POV Images: Jemina Venter

Editing: Hot Tree Editing

Formatting: Max Henry at Max Effect

 

I'm just not sure if I can express how much I loved this book. I was concerned going into this read that I would have trouble separating this type of writing from Emma’s previous work (which I also loved) but it wasn't even a problem. The storyline was clear and there were times I was right on the edge of my seat. I find with a lot of stories, after a few chapters I can kind of piece together a rough idea of what is going to happen.... not in this case. I read the entire thing in one sitting I just couldn't stop and put it down!! -Jessica Cullen

WOW! This is not your normal MC read! Wrenched is dark, twisted and utterly fantastic. Right from the first I was hooked and could not put this book down. – United Indie Book Blog, Raychel Shannon-Faulkner

WOW... I'm not one for a dark read but holy S$%t, this story had me hooked from start to finish.... the stress of the unknown, wanting Whisper who has never had anything good to get some peace. – Raelene Barns

Emma you have turned me into an addict once again! Your books are amazing and this one is no different!

Dark, edgy, sexy and exciting is what this book is! Whisper is an amazing character who is working through everything she has been through along with learning things about herself that she never thought possible! Then comes Edge! He's built, sexy as sin and a biker that holds no bar! – Book Boyfriend Hangover Maria York

I honestly had no emotional control reading this story. None at all. And damn it if I don't prefer dark stories – it's my thing. With Wrenched, your emotions get hijacked, are never returned and you can't help but feel like you won’t be the same person once you finish with the story... the pacing of the story and the characters specific perspectives were amazingly well crafted. – Jelena Bosh

5 HUGE THRILLING DARK STARS!! You're not going to want to put this one down!!! Give yourself a few hours, this is DEFINITELY a one sitting read!!! – Mommy’s Naughty Playground, Missy Harton

I really enjoyed the story and as always the author’s descriptions keep you completely enthralled with the plot. Such extremes in the character’s personalities it was fascinating to see how she brought it all together. – Book Boyfriends Rock, Karen Lee

I am going to start my review by saying GET.THIS.BOOK.NOW. Pre-order or one-click, whatever you have to do to get this book on your reading device ASAP.

Wrenched is a complex, dark tale, written from multiple POV. This is a writing style Ms James seems to have mastered. I enjoyed the depth of story created by being able to get different perspectives. – Tina Louise

Emma has taken on a dark romance and has blown me away with this story. Her characters had me reeled in the story is full of suspense and has you guessing what's happening next. – Debb Lynn

Emma James wrote with such detail and depth that you simply couldn't be anything other than drawn to every page turned. An absolutely captivating, hard core, highly emotional read that has so many twists which you will never see coming. – BFDU, Bloggers From Down Under

Beta read. This has just started another addiction for another series of books. Awesome plot and brilliant characters. I loved it xxx – Hot Tree Editing, Andrea

This is very easy to get into, enjoying the author’s easy flow writing style, her use of words, how straight away you start inhaling what's written. – Kitty Kats Crazy About Books, Kat Fenton

Awesome storyline, awesome writing and a bit scary and freaky, but so worth the read. I cannot wait for the next book to come out! Emma James you ROCK! – Flavs is Mrs David Gandy

Emma James has created a darkly wonderful piece of art. Gritty, poignant and beautiful, I couldn’t put it down! – Author Cherry Shephard

Wow!!!! Great book.... With a twisted line up on characters and story. – Nicole Feichtl

Emma James is a new author to me and I loved her spin on the genre. From the first chapter I was hooked and by the last page I was shocked. – Jezabell Girl & friends, Luc

Emma has given so much detail in so few words, and she has you hanging on each word right to the very end. Trust me, you will never guess where the story goes, as there are curve balls throughout. – Kasey Crees

I was given an Arc of Wrenched by Emma James and holy hell I'm I glad to have been given this opportunity to read it. This book hooked me from the first page it is dark intense and not for the faint hearted. – Tracey Supple

Absolutely awesome book!! – Cassie Hess-Dean

I'm in love with Emma's writing style. I enjoy the many different POV she uses in her books. Although it's a dark read, which usually takes me a couple of chapters to get in to, it draws you in from page one. There's so much happening, you can feel it at every page turning. I could just imagine how Whisper's first chapter played out. So detailed in her writing. – Jolene Hendriks

Holy hotness I'm unsure where to start. Wrenched will take you on a roller coaster ride , you'll be covering your eyes not wanting to read on yet opening your fingers to peer to find out more . – Page Flipperz, Katrina

I truly loved this story, and I recommend it to anyone that loves their stories dark and a little wicked. It's bound to get the heart racing, in more ways than one. ^_^ – Sassy Book Lovers, Stacey Clifford

This story was everything I love in a book: hot, dark, violent, suspenseful, and packed with twists and turns. I loved the complexity of the story, and the way the characters were unknowingly interconnected with each other. Whisper and Edge are two people that come from different worlds and are thrown together due to circumstance. – Samantha Baker

HOLY HOT HELL'S BASTARD!!!! – Sam Shemeld

I'm into MC books, rough, raw and biker men that are sexy as hell! This book was a bit atypical from my normal MC books that I read, it has some major suspense and very dark moments. It definitely kept me on the edge of my seat biting my nails, and turning pages as fast as my fingers would go. – Jen

Hot Damn!!!! Wrenched is such a refreshing change from the books I have read of late and I cannot rave enough about it. This may have an MC character in it but it is not an 'MC' book, but the aspects add that level or danger all the same. Emma James has a distinct style of writing and it is an incredible gift. She allows us access to numerous characters as she builds her story, both of which speak volumes of how much she puts into her work. Not only that, she also has a way of introducing plot twists that you cannot see coming. That is another gift and why I will be a fan of her for a long time to come. – Sarez Tomoan

Oh my goodness, this book was just amazing! I don't even know what to say or where to begin. This book started off with a bang and continued through the whole book. I couldn't put it down until I finished it and let me tell you now I'm depressed! MAJOR CLIFFHANGER! It was to be expected though. The way this author wrote this story was just amazing. At every turn I was surprised of a new revelation. – Genice Cassidy

Once again Emma has done it. She has drawn me into a book that I couldn't put down. Wrenched is a story of revenge but not the type we are all use too. I'm not one to often read dark romance but I loved this one. – Two Peas In A Pod, Donna Miller

HOLY SHHHH....CRAP.

Honestly that was an intense read and I can say without bias because I'm not much of a reader of dark romance that I still enjoyed the action and tense moments in the book. – Janet

OMG Shhhhhhhhsh it got hot and steamy – by the end I wanted more. – Selena

Ok this book is not for the faint hearted if you’re looking for a typical MC love story this isn't it. – Adriana

I am blown away by this book by Emma James. She is one of those authors who can do multiple POVs and do it well. – Jaime

Wrenched is brilliantly written, dark, shocking, gritty, intense, raw, twisted, thought provoking, addictive... it is everything. It's edgy and will have you hanging on the edge of your seat. Emma James has created an amazing story that grabs you in the prologue and has you turning the pages to see how the story develops. You are captivated, intrigued, consumed, and mystified. – Cheryl Graham Petit

Omg this book is totally awesome love each and every character. Once again Emma you've done it again, very well written love the story so much, can't wait to get the next part. – Mischelly Velasquez

Emma, Emma, Emma what have you done, I'll tell you what you've done. You have just got yourself a new life long fan. This story is dark, twisted and hot I'm going to take a while to forgive you for what you have done to me it's going to be a very long wait till the next book and I may or may not hound you about it. – Chrissy Van Der Laan

I absolutely loved this story I got so sucked in I finished in 3hrs. You will love this read! I kept going NO Way, wait what??? OMG run lol! – Kristina Ehrler

A read where the darkness pulled me in with a crack of light, but still in the dark. – Rebecca Paterson

This book is a dark read but I simply couldn't put this book down or recommend enough. – Cally Boyd

It is a dark and twisted story of a few awesome characters. It keeps you guessing what will come next so I would recommend it to readers loving a dark story with hot sex. – Bev Baglione

I'm usually not a fan of cliffhangers, but this one was intriguing and sucked me in. I want the next book and I want it now! – Suzy

Emma James has written a dark, gritty romance that keeps you guessing through out the book. My heart was racing with the suspense! I can't wait for the sequel, Warped, to be released! – Laura Colson

Wrenched was not what I expected when I first received this book. Its very dark but utterly amazing. The characters show strength; a depth that most would never be able to achieve. – Cherie Hocking

Men of Ocean Beach Series

A Little Faith

Hope Is Lost

Hell’s Bastards Series

Wrenched

CONTENTS

Also by Emma

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Acknowledgements

About the Author

 

This story is a dark romance, it contains uncomfortable situations. It’s twisted and sexy and it’s a rollercoaster of a ride. All is not dark, there is light.

Please note there is a cliffhanger ending. Dark romances rarely come without one, it is part of their makeup. Answers will always come as the storyline advances over the series.

There will be three to five books in this series.

If you would like to join Emma’s Book Ends closed group where you can meet other readers and be a part of exclusive news you can do so here.

Join Emma’s newsletter subscription here so you can be the first to know of upcoming releases and other information. Newsletters will be sent every couple months.

 

February 28th

I’m Dallas ‘Edge’ Masson, the Soulless Bastards MC’s enforcer. I’m a killer, and I’m fucking good at it. I make no bones about that. If you are on my radar, or the Soulless Bastards’, then you’d better start praying.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not hard to get along with. I’m a fair man. I can be an asshole; I can be wrong. I can also be the guy who’ll be your friend for life and never turn on you.

And I can be your fucking savior.

But if you fuck me, my brothers, or what’s ours over, and it’s deemed your shit’s worth an eye for an eye, then you’re going on our retribution list. You better start running and hope never to be found, because I’ll be coming for you and I’ll be your judge, jury, and executioner.

There is a whole set of different rules in my world. We live differently. We all understand this. We’re not civilians, so their rules don’t apply to us.

The Soulless Bastards and the Lion’s Den have an alliance. Something big went down last year and we covered each other’s ass, or else we both would have lost a lot of men. Now we’ve got one another’s backs if called upon.

Drill and I have just finished up a job, which affected both clubs, so it was settled that a member from the Lion’s Den MC would assist me in what started out as a shakedown for information, but escalated into two dead bodies we needed to dispose of.

The two dickwads, whose souls we evicted off the planet earlier, weren’t going to give up the information we needed. Whoever had these two nomad bikers on their payroll, chose them because they were dispensable.

Nomad one and two didn’t belong to a club. They were on their own, making their own decisions, with no protection—a very dangerous place to be in our world. They were responsible for their own actions and lives.

These two hung on to their information like a safe that could not be cracked, which only made me amp up my ingenuity because I can normally make the person on my shit list sing loudly, and pretty quickly, but tonight dragged on and on.

A girl from each of our clubs went missing.

Poof!

Gone.

Completely vanished without a trace, we’re talking a beam-me-up-Scotty type of vanishing.

These nomads were our first real lead.

The girls had been missing for nearly two weeks now. It wasn’t until Ruby had up and vanished seventy-two hours after Santana, that we started to think maybe the girls were in danger. Santana had been talking about leaving and going back to college, according to word from the Lion’s Den just before she vanished, so alarms weren’t raised. Ruby, though…she enjoyed stripping. She was good at it, and she made good money. Two girls disappearing without a word from two different clubs, so close in time, had us sitting up and taking notice.

Each girl was under the protection of her respective club, and we look after our own, so we started digging for information. We were all on alert with our remaining girls and taking precautions to keep them safe, but we just couldn’t get a lead on where Ruby and Santana had disappeared to. It was a fucking enigma.

We had received an anonymous tip earlier in the day, and it was all we had to go on, so we had to check it out.

Drill and I had been holed up inside the nomads' isolated, beat up, old house in Socorro, about an hour’s drive from our club, waiting for them to come back. We gave them quite the welcome home reception. We’d left the bikes hidden and legged it a short distance.

They certainly weren’t expecting us, with their oh-fuck-me-this-ain’t-gonna-end-well, surprised looks on their faces as we took each down, knocking them out cold so we could truss them up, and be ready to get some answers.

We got lucky. We’d already done a thorough sweep of the shit box and found both the girls’ handbags hidden in a false floor inside a cabinet—pretty damning evidence—which raised the stakes from shakedown to dead-men-walking, and it didn’t look good for the girls still being alive.

An eye for an eye.

Time for No Mercy, my aptly named little black bag of tricks, to come out, and I started working my artistry on them. I had plenty of ideas up my sleeve. I don’t need a big bag because it’s often the small things, placed in the right places, which can inflict the most damage.

I have no problem using a melon baller to gouge out your eyeball. Why lug around a hammer, when I could be so much more imaginative with a corkscrew or a pair of chopsticks shoved into the right cavity?

I’m a creative son of a bastard.

It became clear that no matter what I did to them, they weren’t gonna run their mouths. It was either because they were too scared to admit to us what went down, or they were more frightened of a higher entity. I should’ve just been done with them and let Drill shoot them, but I couldn’t stop.

They were two of the most insane bikers I’ve ever come across. They had to have been, to let me go through sliding razor blades under their fingernails and tying a wire garrotte around their balls, tightening it until they were sliced clean off their bodies. But still, those fuckers never sang, and that takes balls—pun intended.

Torture is a bitch made up of a whole lot of karma.

We gave them the opportunity to sing for their souls. Theirs would have been quick and painless deaths—a bullet between the eyes...done and dusted—but they chose to fuck around because they sure as hell were hiding something pretty big.

As far as both clubs knew, we hadn’t pissed anybody off that would warrant our girls being taken, and we can’t have any fucker coming along and stealing our girls without deadly repercussions.

You don’t cross the Soulless Bastards MC and get a slap on the wrist.

Fuck with us.

Pay in full.

The last words one of them croaked, with a fucked up grin on his face, while he spat blood at my feet were, ‘Warped fucker.’

Well, my methods might be a little warped, but usually they got the job done. My ego is dented just a little, but I’ll get over it. I could have just put them down like dogs in the end, but I had a perfect record for getting people to talk. I honestly thought they would spill in the end; they had nothing to lose and they were dead anyway. You play in our world, be prepared to pay the ferryman.

Now their bodies are buried deep in the forest...minus their balls and a few other things, and both clubs are still none the wiser. God knows what’s been done to Ruby and Santana. They were only twenty-one years old, just trying to get by in life.

Chances are the girls are both dead because it seems like they’ve just disappeared off the face of the earth. It’s been two weeks, and their handbags with their money and ID were with the nomads, which means they’d probably disposed of the girls’ bodies when they were done with them and were too dumb to get rid of their handbags. Hell, maybe they liked to keep tokens of their crimes.

We have nothing more to go on at the moment but assumptions, and they are not enough. We will keep searching for answers. Some fucker will pay for this. I did my best and, this time, I’d failed, and it’s a jagged pill to swallow.

Drill and I are gonna go get cleaned up, and then we are gonna pay Cyn a visit on the way home because torture and interrogation are both mentally and physically demanding. I have to replace what just went down with an after-job hard fuck. You can’t go through what we did and then just have a quiet beer or catch a few z’s. That shit has to be worked out of our systems.

 

The first thing I noticed when I came back to myself was the searing pain in my wrists and arms. My flesh felt raw, my shoulders were still locked straight above my head, and I was in complete darkness, still hanging far enough off the ground to cause me immense pain.

I was used to having my face slapped around to help speed up my come back from the spaced-out land I had to endure, and then cut down like a side of beef to fall naked onto the hard wooden floor. My hands would then be sliced free and my sight returned while the drug he used to take my mind to another place left my system and I could eventually have the strength to get up.

But this time, I was still bound, hanging, and unable to see.

Something was wrong.

I am far more alert. I can’t hear his breathing; the house is deathly quiet. He’s normally close by, observing me, waiting for me to resurface from the inky black depths of my mind.

“Master William?” I whisper, but the house doesn’t breathe a word. “Master William?” I whisper with more volume as a shiver vibrates through my body.

Nothing.

I lift my head slowly. My neck is stiff and it hurts to move it, another sign I’ve been hanging like a dead weight for too long. My shoulders protest the small movement as I hesitate a little longer.

“Master William!” I raise my voice as loud as I dare, risking being punished for my insolence.

Still, no response.

Why am I still bound?

I need to be able to see. “Master William, I would like to remove my face mask, please, Sir.”

I wait. The silence is deafening.

I receive no orders to keep it on, so I start rubbing my face against my shoulder, trying to remove the thick, black eye mask he puts on me. I rub harder, working to nudge it above my eyes, while the movement has me bouncing against the staircase, pain attacking my body.

I can finally move the mask enough to see, while my eyes start blinking, trying to adjust to the late afternoon light streaming through the windows.

Where has the bastard gone?

“Master William!” I yell out as loud as I have dared to speak. I’ve never heard myself talk this loudly before.

Ever.

I spend so much time in my head shouting, but never out loud.

I wait.

Another shiver wracks my body. I fear being left here, more than the punishment that will come later for speaking out, but still, the walls are silent.

I focus on myself and notice my dress hasn’t been cut from my body. I’m fully clothed.

He hasn’t touched me yet.

I can’t even rejoice in this knowledge because I’m afraid of what this all means for me today. I don’t understand. Master William never deviates from his pattern.

I twist my body so I can see to my right, biting down on my bottom lip as pain assaults my shoulders while I wrench them, trying to take in my predicament.

Then, I see him.

He’s lying in a tumbled heap at the bottom of the staircase, which I hang from the side of.

Is he dead?

Please, if there is a God, please make him be dead.

What if he is dead? What does this mean for me?

Reality hits me like a thunderbolt because he hasn’t responded to my calls, I’m hanging bound by my wrists, and nobody knows I exist.

Nobody is coming to save me.

I shut my eyes and let my head slump forward as I try to calm myself so I can think clearly about the unbelievable situation I find myself in. The pain’s getting unbearable, and I can take a lot of pain.

I dare another look at the body, and it’s still unmoving and as still as the walls holding up this house, while I’m trussed up like a pig.

I have to get myself down from here.

I look up as high as I can. Even though my head bangs against the side of the staircase, it’s protected by the thick Rapunzel braid he’s roped my hair into, the same as always. It’s not that far to get to the banister.

I take note of what I can use to rescue myself, then I tick off the list of things I need to do in my mind to get out of this predicament.

First thing I have to do is get myself facing the side of the staircase, then I can use my feet to push up on the brass doorknob that opens the always locked storage room underneath it, which is currently pushing into my lower back.

Today, this doorknob might save my life. I try not to panic, afraid he will wake up at any moment. Hurrying will only lead to mistakes.

I take a deep breath and center myself.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I can do this.

I test my legs first by giving them a shake. I have mobility, so I swing my lower body and twist as hard as I can. I flip around, pain hitting my belly where the brass knob’s now pushing into it, while this sudden movement awakens a new pain in my wrists from the rope rubbing my flesh.

I’m panting from the strain on my body. My neck’s now tucked in tight as I clear my mind and concentrate on grabbing a hold of the rope with what little movement my fingers have. I wriggle them a little and grasp the rope as best I can, visualizing what I need to do.

I take another deep breath because this is really going to hurt like a bitch, and I lift both legs up as high as I can, using what core strength I can find. My bare feet hit out at the brass knob as I get traction with one foot and push up with all my strength, grunting as I claw with my fingers up the rope at the same time.

Every part of my body is working together as a team to get to the goal of me standing on the brass doorknob, while busy fingers are creeping up the rope like spiders to take some of my weight and help my legs out.

I manage to take in nervous, quick glances at the body, for fear of seeing it move as I work to raise myself up. I’m making barely audible grunts from the exertion as sweat dribbles down my face. I rub my head again on the side of my arm in annoyance of the face mask, dislodging it and giving my head a little shake when it finally falls away.

I forget any pain and keep clawing my way a little closer to freedom as I push up with my feet. My thighs are burning from the awkward angle until I’m standing with one foot on the knob and I have both hands holding onto the bottom of one of the railing’s carved wooden posts.

I rest my head for a few seconds from the strain on my body and roll my shoulders, trying to loosen them up a little. At least my arms are no longer pulled tight above my head. There’s a small relief in my joints, but I have a long way to go still to get out of this mess I’m in.

Master William still hasn’t moved.

I reach up as high as I can, with my hands locked around the banister post, the sculpted wood giving me something firm to grip onto. I swing my other leg up until it hits the bottom of one of the lower stairs, the sole of my bare foot sliding in between the posts. I use that leg to bend and hoist me a little higher, and my hands work together, clawing their way up the post they are latched onto. My other foot pushes off the brass knob with as much spring as I can muster, so my knee can leverage against the side of the staircase and I can try to push off with it. Any part of my body I can use to gain height is worth a shot.

I’m now at an awkward angle as I tell my brain to get with the program and move what needs to be moved to get the job done. Arms, legs, and fingers are battling for the end result. I grapple my way farther up the banister post until I can get my knee onto the step between two posts. I move the rest of my body over to be in line with it, and pull myself up until I’m standing.

Holy shit. I did it.

I hang over the railing, panting, trying to catch my breath for several heartbeats, and then I swing my tired body over, landing on the hard, jutting steps in a clumsy heap, forcing an, “Oomph!” out of me. Bruises will be inevitable.

I lay in an awkward mess with my limbs hurting, and notice the rope wrapped tightly around my wrists has turned a dirty red. It’s a small price to pay to no longer be hanging there.

I give myself a couple minutes to recharge until I have enough strength to get up and start working the knot, which holds me prisoner. My fingers are sore from gripping the rope, but they know their job is not quite done. They continue to work together, pulling and loosening where they can to get the knot undone. Master William has a padded piece of suede wrapped under the rope, so it didn’t damage his precious railing.

Without my weight pulling it tight, it only takes a few moments to slacken the knot and get the rope off the rail. I drop it onto the steps, where it will just have to drag along behind me.

Victory!

There’s no time to celebrate. If he’s still alive, this is my opportunity to kill the bastard while he’s knocked out.

But can I do that?

Am I a killer?

I already know the answer to that.

I need something sharp to cut the rope binding my wrists, then I will be free to make the next decision.

I get to the bottom of the stairs and freeze.

I’m afraid to move past him in case this is some cruel joke and he’s testing me, so I sit down on the bottom step, his splayed body just a couple feet away from me, and hope this whole scene is not set up to catch me out and see if I’ll run.

He’s wearing that horrible midnight black, satin shirt without buttons with the hood attached. It’s the one he always wears when he comes for me, paired with the loose black pants. The hood’s always up, but it has folded back from the fall, revealing the back of his head.

“Master William,” I whisper. “Can you hear me?”

I wait a beat.

He appears lifeless and I’m frozen on the bottom step, nervous he’s going to jump up and attack me, making sure to beat the shit out of me.

So I wait another couple moments.

“Master William!” My voice carries throughout the silent house on a determined echo.

Nothing.

He’s lying on his stomach. I feel braver and stand up, giving him a good solid kick to his leg to wake him...but he doesn’t.

I watch his back as I inhale and exhale slowly, waiting to see if it rises and falls with my breathing. I’m counting in my head slowly, One thousand...two thousand...three thousand...four thousand.

There’s no movement.

I have to know, so I take the plunge, leaning down to fist a handful of his hair between my bound wrists and lift his head. I cock my head to the side so I can see him properly. His eyes are staring vacantly back at me. His nose has bled; it looks bent out of shape, and that’s when I realize how wobbly his head feels. I give it a little wriggle. It feels loosey-goosey on his shoulders, and his facial expression is frozen in place.