Page 77 of Cruel Biker

She made her way near the back door that led into the kitchen, and she sunk into the darkness, as she glanced toward the stove to see several of the pots boiling. There was no time to grab one.

Staying perfectly still, she tried not to flinch as she saw the reflection of the man in the back door. She heard nothing from Bolt. All she could hope for was that he was okay and able to take care of himself.

Her heart pounded inside her chest. She felt sick to her stomach. This was not good. Tonight, she could die, and she never got to tell Venom how she felt. Not that he cared. Her feelings didn’t matter.

The man smashed the window of her kitchen door, and that pissed her off immensely. She felt that loneliness and pain being morphed into anger. She let it completely flow over her, building up, threatening to spill, and then two people came into the house, both carrying heavy-looking guns.

Her dad taught a lesson about guns, but she pretty much zoned out until it came to the part she got to shoot them. Now that was fun. She would gladly shoot any gun her father put into her hand.

This was different, though. The fear gripped her, and as they moved around the kitchen, at one point, they looked in her direction but she knew they couldn’t see her. Not unless they had night vision goggles. They didn’t make a sound. No conversation. Just silence.

Once they turned off the stove and shook their heads, they made their way out of the kitchen, and that was when she struck. Two pans of boiling water, one in each hand, and going behind them, she tossed them at the men and quickly ran for it. The guns went off, and she knew they were firing in her direction. More chaos ensued, and Morwenna knew Bolt was on the attack.

She was going to be sick, but she swallowed it down and grabbed a couple of knives. A third man was coming into the kitchen, and he was not expecting her, so she launched herself at him, thrusting the sharp kitchen blades into his flesh, the exposed parts, as they were wearing bulletproof vests.

This time, with him down, bleeding out, looking shocked and scared, she grabbed his gun. Again, she didn’t have a clue on the make, nor the model, but she knew this one fired a lot of bullets. This was one her father didn’t let her play with, nor Bolt.

She never questioned why he had it. Her father always said he was a gun collector, whereas now, she was starting to believe there was an entirely different reason for it, one she’d never considered before.

Bolt let out a grunt, and Morwenna rushed into the hallway to see one of the men on the floor, and another thrusting a blade into Bolt’s stomach. She shot the gun, taking the man out as she fired into his head. Bolt looked at her, and she rushed forward and pulled him into her arms.

“Fuck, this hurts,” Bolt said. “This is not good.”

“Shut up, don’t say that. Come on, we’ve got to get upstairs.”

She gritted her teeth and helped take Bolt upstairs, shoving open a door and laying him on one of the beds. She rushed into the bathroom, grabbing towels and quickly pressing them on his wound. There had to be at least three.

“You can’t die,” she said.

“Why? Would you miss me?” he asked, and coughed.

She wanted to slap him right now, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. She felt tears in her eyes, and she felt so sick. Pressing down on the wound, she tried not to panic, but then she looked behind her as she heard movement downstairs.

“Shit, Morwenna.”

“I’ve got to go. I’ve got to stop them from getting upstairs.”

“I can’t lose you,” he said.

Morwenna didn’t want to point out that he already had lost her.

“Press down on the wound. Let me take care of this, and then we’ll get you to the hospital.” She shoved her hair out of the way, knowing she was getting blood all over herself.

There was no way she could crawl under the bed and hide until it was over. Holding the gun firmly within her grip, she started to move out of the room, and she held the gun that she hoped still had bullets.

Even though every fiber of her being was begging for this to be over, and for her to run and hide, she rounded the staircase, aimed her gun, and at the same time, someone grabbed the man who was coming toward her from behind and twisted. Someone literally broke the man’s neck with his bare hands.

The body dropped, and Morwenna looked into Venom’s eyes.

Chapter Eighteen

“I know I fucked up,” Bolt said.

“You took drugs. You left the clubhouse. You nearly got yourself killed, not to mention fucking Morwenna.”

“I had no idea she was ... I didn’t think.”

“No, of course you didn’t think, that would have been easy,” Maverick said.