Nitro's Torment (Sydney Storm MC #1)

  Nitro’s Torment

  Nina Levine

  Contents

  Dedication

  1. Nitro

  2. Tatum

  3. Nitro

  4. Tatum

  5. Nitro

  6. Tatum

  7. Nitro

  8. Tatum

  9. Nitro

  10. Tatum

  11. Nitro

  12. Tatum

  13. Nitro

  14. Tatum

  15. Nitro

  16. Tatum

  17. Nitro

  18. Tatum

  19. Nitro

  20. Tatum

  21. Nitro

  22. Tatum

  23. Nitro

  24. Tatum

  25. Nitro

  26. Tatum

  27. Nitro

  28. Tatum

  29. Nitro

  30. Tatum

  31. Nitro

  32. Tatum

  33. Nitro

  34. Tatum

  35. Nitro

  36. Tatum

  37. Nitro

  38. Tatum

  39. Nitro

  40. Tatum

  41. Nitro

  42. Tatum

  43. Nitro

  44. Tatum

  45. Nitro

  46. Tatum

  47. Nitro

  Epilogue - Tatum

  Copyright

  Also By Nina Levine

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Dedication

  To those of us still searching for home

  to love

  gentle self-care

  opening ourselves up

  trusting

  so much trusting

  believing in someone

  that they will hold our heart in their palm

  and cherish it

  cherish us

  to finding our home

  that place where our souls can breathe

  where our hearts can smile

  to finding the person who can give us that

  love & home

  1

  Nitro

  “The Hammer’s Coming Down” by Nickelback

  Scanning the busy casino floor, my gaze locked onto the guy I’d come here for. You’re mine, fucker. I stalked in his direction, pushing people out of the way. Being Saturday night, a crowd was in residence. That would only help my mission. Less chance of anyone involving themself in what was going down.

  About ten steps from my goal, a leggy blonde ran into me. I stopped and attempted to move swiftly around her. However, she had other ideas.

  Turning to face me, the glare on her face said it all, but she insisted on wasting my time with her words. With an arch of her brows, she said, “Do you give a shit that I just twisted my ankle in these heels because you weren’t watching where you were walking?”

  My eyes held hers. “You wanna back that up and get your facts straight?”

  “My facts are straight, asshole. You’re the one who was barrelling through here, not me.”

  My gaze flicked quickly to the guy I was after. Still at the table, thank fuck. Eyeing her again, I barked, “I don’t give a fuck who was doing what. You need to move out of my way.” If the casino wasn’t so damn packed, I wouldn’t even bother to argue with her, I’d just continue on my way. As it was, I couldn’t move either side of her.

  “Does that usually work for you?”

  I raked my fingers through my hair, keeping an eye on my target. “Yeah, it does.” I drew my attention back to her and lowered my face. “Now, get the fuck out of my way before I physically move you myself.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Men like you don’t scare me. Just so you know.” With that, she stepped aside and I strode away from her without a second glance.

  A few minutes later, I stared into the eyes of the man I believed was able to give me the information my club had been after for weeks. “You need to stand and leave with me now.”

  Hatred bled from him as he glared at me. “I don’t need to fucking do anything.”

  “You do. Because if you don’t, that tight cunt waiting for you at home won’t be breathing when you get there.”

  He scowled. “You’re full of shit.”

  I clenched my jaw and shoved my face closer to his. “You wanna fucking test that theory? I can phone my boys waiting outside your place if you want. Have them send over a photo.”

  He shoved his chair back. “This isn’t going down how you think it is, Nitro.”

  I pushed him. “Start fucking walking and shut your mouth. The only way this is going down is how I say.”

  Neither of us would be leaving until I knew who was responsible for all the pain dealt to some of our club’s family members over the last few months.

  * * *

  “Today’s not your day, motherfucker.” I grunted the words out as I reached for his throat. Gripping him hard, I squeezed until he could no longer suck air down into his lungs. “You wanna fuck with my family, you’re gonna deal with me. And I don’t give second chances.”

  Clawing at my fingers, he attempted to struggle out of my hold, but it was a fruitless battle. Pathetic sounds came from his throat, the kind of noises that only fuelled my bloodlust. Those sounds rolled through the back alley we were in, lingering in the same way the putrid smells out there did. Thunder cracked overhead and lightning cut through the black sky. It was only a matter of time before rain fell, but I didn’t care if we spent the rest of the night getting drenched; I would get what I came for.

  I ripped my hand from his throat to fist my fingers in his hair. Yanking his head back, I roared, “Give me the fucking name!”

  His lips curled up in a snarl. “Go to hell. I don’t rat on my club.”

  Anger blurred my vision as I spun him around and shoved him headfirst into the brick wall in front of us. His scream of agony as he smashed into the bricks and crumpled to the ground rushed through my veins like a hit of cocaine. This was the kind of high I craved and I clenched my fists, ready to keep going. My boots thudded on the bitumen as I moved to stand over him. Blood covered his face, pouring from the deep gash I’d inflicted on his forehead.

  Wrenching him up by his shirt, I backed him against the wall, slamming his body hard. “By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll rat on anyone I fucking want you to.”

  Drawing long, ragged breaths, he shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with a punch to his cheek. Blood flew through the air as his head snapped to the side from the impact.

  I knew his type, so I knew he honestly thought he wouldn’t rat on his club. But it was only a matter of time before he would be in a world of pain and begging me to stop. After that, it wouldn’t take long to drag the information I needed from him.

  Pulling my knife from its sheath attached to my belt, I dragged the tip of it across the base of his throat, pressing hard enough to draw a few drops of blood. The determination in his eyes wavered. “It’s been a long day, asshole, and I don’t feel like shooting the shit with you for hours. Let’s hurry this the fuck along.”

  “I’m not a fucking snitch,” he snarled.

  “Tonight you are. Or else you’re dead.”

  His lips pressed together, a signal that he needed further encouragement. I ran the knife down his chest to his crotch. “But first we’ll start with your dick. Ever seen one cut off?”

  He flinched and I knew I had him. Even if I had to cut into his skin some more, he’d sing before he’d lose his dick or his life.

  When he didn’t respond, I took hold of his shirt and ripped it open. Buttons rained down onto the ground before his shirt joined them.

  My eyes met his. “Changed
my mind. First we’ll start with this.” I squeezed one of his nipples, and swiftly sliced it off.

  “Motherfucker!” His scream of pain echoed around us as his body jerked.

  I blocked his attempt to fight back by smashing him against the brick wall again. “Yeah, I am. You ready to lose the other one?” As the words left my mouth, I grabbed his other nipple, ready to make good on my threat. Patience was not one of my virtues.

  He gritted his teeth through heavy breaths. “Fuck you!”

  Blood streamed down his chest and stomach when I slashed his other nipple off. I hardly processed his string of expletives; I was completely focused on my next move.

  Gripping the waistband of his jeans, I tore the button off and zip down. I then yanked them and his briefs down. He stood in front of me, naked with his pants around his ankles, anger and fear rolling off him in equal parts.

  And then he really started fighting for his life.

  Bring it the fuck on.

  His punch clocked my cheek as I straightened from lowering his pants. I’d expected it and retaliated by dropping my head and ramming it into his chest while wrapping my arms around his torso. Using all my strength, I swung him around and barrelled him to the ground. He landed so hard I was concerned I’d knocked him out, which was not my intention. But, his body writhed under mine telling me he was still in this fight.

  Legs and arms kicked and clawed at me in his attempt to escape. I had to have fifty pounds on him, though, so he was no match.

  Pressing my lower body down on his, restraining his legs, I took hold of his wrists and pinned him to the ground, pushing my chest up off his. “You wanna fight? I can guarantee that you won’t win.”

  “I’ll fucking die before I’ll tell you anything,” he spat.

  I stared down at him, wondering just how long I’d have to draw this shit out. As much as I could inflict pain all night long, I was aware the cops had increased their nightly sweeps of the city in the last week, so I needed to move this along.

  I moved his hands above his head so I could pin both of them to the ground with one of mine rather than both, and then reached into my pocket for my phone.

  Pulling Devil’s number up, I dialled him. “Get me that photo of his bitch. And draw some fucking blood for it.”

  “On it.” The line went dead and he left to take care of my request.

  I met the asshole’s eyes again. “You might be willing to die, but let’s see if you’re ready to let us chop your old lady up.”

  His hard eyes held mine, probably calculating his options. They then narrowed and he said, “You’re full of shit. You do that or kill me, my club only escalates this further, and your club is down so many members you wouldn’t be able to win that battle.”

  His club, the Silver Hell MC, had spent the last three months exacting revenge on ours for King, our president, killing one of their members. King had killed him because he’d hurt King’s sister. But their revenge had involved far more than simply going after King or our members. They’d also gone after our families, hurting them any way they could. The truce they’d called for last week wasn’t one we were interested in.

  I hissed. “What you’re failing to realise here is that King declared war today. You thought we’d accept your truce? No fucking way. You’ve no idea who he’s called in, but I’ll tell you now that our numbers have been more than replenished. And one other thing… you should have known that no one fucks with King and gets away with it.”

  I let go of his hands and slid myself down his body so I could grab his dick. I then scored my blade along the length of it. Not deep, just enough for blood to pool.

  “Fuck!” he roared, trying unsuccessfully to fight me. “King doesn’t give a shit about you. He’s built that club full of members who do his dirty work, and it’s all for his own gain. When are you going to wake up and see that?”

  I cut into his dick again. His body jerked underneath me while he continued to battle me for control. “When are you going to wake the fuck up and see that King gets his hands dirtier than any of us could ever dream of? And what he’s built is an army of soldiers, willing to fight to the fucking end.”

  My phone buzzed with a text and I smiled when I saw the photo Devil had sent.

  Blood and tits all wrapped up in extreme terror. This guy didn’t need to know we’d never make good on our threat to harm his woman. He also didn’t need to know the amount of blood in the photo was exaggerated by Devil smearing a small cut worth of blood over her skin.

  The end justifies the means.

  I leaned forward, pushed my hand against his chest to keep him down and shoved the phone in his face. “You ready to lose that?”

  His chest heaved with heavy breath after heavy breath. Finally, he broke. “Room 1242.” Regret and fury spewed out of his mouth along with his tip-off.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  “That’s the room he’s staying in tonight.”

  “Where?”

  “Here.”

  Fuck, so close.

  I stared at him and saw the moment he realised where this was heading. Sitting calmly atop of him, I moved my knife from his dick, ready to rid his club of another member.

  He thrashed under me, trying like hell to buck me off.

  It was that fight I loved the most.

  That last ditch attempt to cling to life while I took his last breath.

  2

  Tatum

  “When I Go” by Keaton Simons

  Numbers.

  My days drifted past in a sea of numbers.

  14004.

  My bank balance.

  6.

  The number of meals I should eat a day.

  3.

  The number of people in my life who looked out for me.

  5.

  The number of flights I took to visit my mother while she was dying last year.

  4.

  The number of men I’d slept with over the past twelve months.

  90000.

  The amount of cash it took to crash my life to the ground.

  8.

  The number of years I lived a lie.

  My days drifted past in a sea of numbers while I numbed my pain by disconnecting from life as much as I could.

  As the guy I’d been watching in the casino all night slipped me his room key and said, “Room 1242,” I knew I’d be using that key.

  I might have given up on a lot, but I never gave up on revenge.

  Especially when it involved the opportunity to seek vengeance against the man I thought murdered my brother.

  * * *

  His greedy eyes trailed a path over my body after he let me into his room. I felt nothing but disgust and had to work hard not to vomit.

  You can do this.

  For Chris.

  I flinched when his palm roughly connected with my breast.

  “You came here to fuck me, right?” He watched me, waiting for my answer, his hand squeezing my nipple through my clothes.

  Swallowing down my nerves, I nodded.

  Fuck, Tatum, get your shit together. It’s not like you don’t deal with these kinds of men every damn day.

  He kept his hand on my breast while his other one gripped my hip and pulled me hard against his body.

  Against his erection.

  He ground his dick against me as his gaze dropped to my neck. “Those are some tattoos you’re rocking. Who’s your guy?”

  No way was I giving him my girl’s name.

  “Dane Shepherd,” I lied.

  His brows pulled together. “Haven’t heard of him.”

  I reached my hand around his neck. “Are we gonna fuck or are we gonna stand here and talk shit all night?”

  Heat flashed in his eyes and his fingers dug into my waist. “You’ve got a fucking mouth on you, bitch. How about you get on your knees and show me what it’s capable of.”

  No way was my mouth going anywhere his nasty dick. “I’ve got a better idea. How about I give you
a show you’ll never forget? And then I’ll suck your dick.”

  “I don’t need a show. I just need you to blow me and then get your tits out before I fuck you.”

  I tilted my head and hit him with a sexy smile. “Everyone needs a Billy-Jones-worthy show.”

  He whistled low and his expression quickly turned from disinterested to intrigued. “You’re one of Billy’s girls?”

  I nodded. “I do things for Billy that none of his other girls do.” Not a lie. Just a little creative storytelling.

  He took a step back, dropping his eyes to my body. “Okay, but you better make this worth my while. I’ve got shit to do after I get my dick wet.”

  It was time to give the performance of my life.

  It was time to dance with the devil himself.

  I placed my palm against his chest and nudged him backwards. “Sit on the edge of the bed.”

  His brow raised at my order, but he did as I said. Once he settled there, I raised my arms over my head and linked my fingers before slowly gyrating my hips. I’d worn a tight black strapless dress that hit me midthigh with the express purpose of distracting him. It appeared to be working. His eyes were all over me; he didn’t seem to know where to look first.

  “Fuck, I need to see those tits,” he muttered as he unzipped his pants to free his cock. Pumping himself, he groaned. “Show me.”

  I shook my head and continued working my hips while I rotated on the spot so he could catch a glimpse of my ass as well. “All in good time. We don’t give up the goods that fast. If you know Billy’s, you know that.”

  “Bitch, I give no fucks what you usually do, I want those tits out and in my fucking mouth right now.”

  I stared at him, weighing up my options. I knew he was a man without a conscience, who would kill you just as soon as he’d show you an ounce of compassion, so I had to tread carefully. But I’d watched him for long enough to also know he had a thing for blondes and tits. I just had to play my cards right.

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”