Losing It All Read online

  Losing It All

  Kati Wilde

  Copyright © 2020 by Kati Wilde

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Content Warning (w/Mild Spoilers)

  Disturbing Violence: The situation my hero/heroine are in (the Cage) is bad enough, but one of the fighters is especially horrible. I try not to go into gory detail about what happens, but some detail is there, and the implication about the rest is clear enough.

  Sexual violence/rape: The heroine lives under a constant threat of rape, and is assaulted in an attempted rape (we saw part of this attempt in Breaking It All). Rapes also occur during the story—one is off-page (but the rapist gloats about it on-page) and the other is on-page but non-explicit. Neither the hero nor the heroine is raped.

  Consent: In a very narrow sense, all of the interactions between my hero/heroine are consensual. More broadly, their situation adds clear noncon and dubcon aspects. SPOILERS: For the noncon, the heroine is ordered to perform oral sex on the hero after a traumatizing event. Under non-Cage circumstances, neither one would object to the act itself/being sexual with each other, but they object to the situation. She eventually agrees because the alternative is horrid. He initially says ‘no’, then agrees when he realizes what the consequences for her might be. Later in the book, the hero holds her prisoner in a cabin while he gets his payback; although she enthusiastically consents, obviously the situation adds a dubious aspect.

  “Good guy” character deaths: The hero & heroine live, of course, but usually in my books only the bad guys are killed. That is not true in this book.

  Grief & trauma: All of the above means that the hero and heroine have considerable grief and trauma to work through.

  Contents

  Content Warning

  Dedication

  Losing It All

  I. The Cage

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  II. The Ranch

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  III. The Road

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  IV. The Grave

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  V. The Club

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by Kati Wilde

  Newsletter

  CONTENT WARNING

  Hello, book lovers! If you’re familiar with my motorcycle club series, you know I often include violence on par with action-movie violence: fighting, shooting bad guys, etc. This book, however, is darker than my usual. I personally wouldn’t put it in the “dark romance” category (at least not as “dark romances” are defined today) but a few elements skirt in that direction, and every reader has a different level of sensitivity and definition of “dark.”

  So if you would like more information about content, please turn back to the copyright page (located after the cover/title page and before the dedication.) I have added more specific — and not too spoilery — details regarding the darker aspects of this work.

  To DiscoDollyDeb

  and every other reader who hung in there over the years. I wouldn’t still be here without readers like you. Thank you for every Kati Wilde book you’ve taken a chance on, thank you for every time you’ve recommended my work, and thank you so much for your patience.

  * * *

  To my girls, Ruby and Ella, who began this journey with me so long ago. You’re the most amazing of friends and I am the luckiest woman to have found you both in this huge and crazy online world. To Mel and Lea, who really really really want Jack & Lily to have that baby…I might have to write another epilogue again.

  Losing It All

  A Hellfire Riders Romance

  The Hellfire Riders’ enforcer, Stone Wall, has just three weaknesses.

  Dogs.

  Little kids.

  Damsels in distress.

  But this time, the damsel isn’t in distress. She’s bait, luring him in with haunted eyes and a sad smile. And Stone should have known better, but he couldn’t resist those soft, sweet lips. One kiss put him in a cage, fighting for his life. Fighting not to let winning rip his soul apart…and losing that fight.

  So he played the hero. That’s over with. The moment he’s free, that damsel in distress is going to give him his pound of flesh. Kiss by kiss. Lick by lick.

  It’s payback time.

  * * *

  Author’s note: Though this is the seventh story in the Hellfire Riders series, it’s been several years since the last release and so I’ve written this book to stand alone as much as possible. If you are a new reader (or haven’t read any Hellfire Riders for a long time) you should be fine! If you’d like a quickie, comic-style recap of the books that led up to this one, however, they are available on my site to read there or to download free to your reading device.

  I

  The Cage

  1

  Every night, after I’m imprisoned in my stall, the sound I dread most is the soft clunk of the electronic lock releasing. Fear of an unlocked door might seem stupid, considering that I want nothing more than to escape this nightmare that I’m trapped in. But since I’m not free yet, the only place I feel safe is behind that steel-reinforced door—until six a.m., when the door opens and my daily duties begin.

  So when the clunk wakes me just after midnight, terror instantly freezes me in place, lying on my side and with my back to the door. Two months ago, that emotion might have been hope instead of terror. Even a month ago, my first thought might have been The FBI finally found us! or Matt took the guards by surprise and he’s busting us out of here.

  But after three months in this hellhole, hope is hard to hold onto. So instead I lie motionless in bed and think that one of the guards must have gotten tired of jacking off in the control booth and decided to help himself to some forbidden pussy. Now I’ll have to let him rape me or I’ll have to fight him off, and both options are a death sentence.

  Because I’ve only got a few rules to follow. Number one is, “Do as you’re told.” Number two is, “Keep your cherry”—at least until Papa decides to give it away.

  No one ever explicitly said that I can’t keep a scalpel under my pillow, but I don’t have to be told that it’s an unspoken rule. Having a weapon—especially one that I stole from a locked cabinet in the medical room—will get me in trouble. And around here, ‘trouble’ doesn’t merit a hand-slapping. It means a bullet to the head. But only after I’ve been passed around to all the guards and other prisoners. So what’s worse—one rape, or a few dozen rapes foll
owed by death?

  I know what’s worse. But as footsteps stealthily approach my narrow bunk, I pretend to sleep…and my right hand creeps beneath my pillow.

  My fingers curl around the scalpel’s handle just as an urgent whisper hisses through the dark.

  “Cherry, are you awake? Did Lissa get locked in here with you?”

  It’s Bravo. One of the guards. And he’s looking for Lissa?

  My mind races with the implications of that until he grips my shoulder and gives me a hard shake. “Cherry!”

  I let go of the scalpel and simulate waking up, blinking heavily, looking at him in confusion. In the dark, the expression on Bravo’s face is hard to make out, but the suppressed panic in his tone is easy to hear.

  “Have you seen Lissa?”

  “Not since she went into her stall at ten,” I tell him in a drowsy voice, as if still not fully awake.

  “She went in there before it was locked? You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” And I am. Every night it’s the same. Her quarters are across from mine and, just before the lights go out, we wish each other goodnight through the small windows in our doors. “Why?”

  Bravo doesn’t answer. Instead he mutters a curse and hightails it out of my room. The door automatically locks behind him.

  I sit up, my body thrumming with tension, my heart racing. Lissa’s gone. And Bravo’s panicking because he’s the one who unlocked her stall.

  I know all about their hookups. The guards aren’t supposed to touch either of us, but Lissa isn’t forbidden for the same reason that I am. My virginity will be a prize to some lucky fighter in the stable—if any of them are ever lucky enough to make it through ten bouts in the Cage. But Lissa is the sexual bait they use to abduct those fighters in the first place, so the guards aren’t interested in protecting her chastity. And when Papa decides that one of the fighters or a guard deserves a reward, she’s the one to give it. Sometimes a blow job, sometimes more. But unless it’s been sanctioned by Papa, the guards aren’t supposed to fool around with her—because the guard in charge, Victor, runs a strict operation and he claims pussy is a dangerous distraction.

  Victor’s not wrong. Distracting a guard is exactly why Lissa began flirting with Bravo. He’s younger than the others—not a boy, because none of the guards are—but probably not much older than me. Maybe around twenty-five or so.

  My brother, Matt, thinks the guards are probably a local militia that turned mercenary. He believes that some of them—like Victor—were actually in the military at one point. But the others either washed out of basic training and have something to prove, or they just like to strut around and play soldier. I’m not sure which of those Bravo is, because they’re careful not to tell us any personal information, but he has the ‘strutting around’ part down pat. He’s always swinging his dick around, the kind of guy who thinks nailing a chick makes him more of a man and who can’t bear anyone questioning his masculinity. So all Lissa had to do was coo at him and say that she loved the size of his cock, and Bravo was more than willing to risk unlocking her door so she could slip out and meet up with him.

  Their hookups have been going on a few weeks now. Soon she plans to bite off his dick or whack him over the head or rip out his throat. Whatever it takes to incapacitate him and get away.

  But apparently she didn’t even meet up with him tonight. So after he unlocked the stall door—which can only be done from the control booth near the barn’s main entrance—she must have found an opportunity to slip away. And if a bloviating prick like Bravo can’t conceal the panic in his voice, then he must be fucking terrified.

  Good.

  I listen in the dark, trying to hear what’s going on outside. Are the guards going from stall to stall, searching for her? If so, they’re being quiet about it.

  Sliding out of bed, I tiptoe to the door and peer through the small window. This building used to be a horse barn, and the original layout is mostly still intact. A wide aisle separates the rows of stalls where the fighters are imprisoned. The stalls all have sliding doors that are solid wood on the lower half, but with narrow bars on the upper half that can swing open independently of the bottom. My stall at the far end of the barn is different; my walls are all wood, not made partially of bars, and my door is just a regular door—as if the space originally served a different purpose than holding a horse. Maybe a tack room, maybe something else. It doesn’t matter. The only purpose this room has now is to lock me up at night.

  Lissa’s stall is the same—but she’s not locked up in there. And as far as I can tell, Bravo hasn’t raised the alarm yet.

  Probably hoping that he can cover his ass. Maybe thinking that when the questions start, he can pretend not to know how or when she escaped.

  Which would give Lissa a six-hour head start before they begin looking for her.

  Six hours.

  A full-body shiver wracks through me, but it’s not all cold. I am cold. The tight nurse’s uniform that I wear during the day is the only clothing these assholes have given me. So I took a hospital gown from the medical supplies my first week here, but the thin fabric offers little protection against the freezing November air.

  I hardly feel the chill, though. Excitement quivers through my tense form, and I strain to hear anything, anything at all.

  There’s nothing.

  I watch for a few more minutes before slipping back into bed, but I know sleeping again will be impossible. Not while I’m filled with so much hope and anticipation, and mentally sending all my strength and courage to wherever Lissa is right now. Because if she escapes, this nightmare will soon be over.

  2

  Exactly at six a.m., Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock” begins playing on the loudspeakers installed throughout the barn. When my door buzzes open a few seconds later, I’m already dressed and ready to begin my duties. I emerge from my stall sporting a full face of makeup and blown-out hair, along with the ridiculous outfit I’m required to wear, which looks as if it was bought during a Halloween sale. Not because my clothes are scary, but because it has that “adult female costume” look which turns every character into the sexy pinup version.

  Since I fulfill the role of nurse around here—making sure the fighters receive proper nutrition and exercise, and monitoring their overall health—I’ve got the corresponding costume. Comfortable scrubs are out, because Papa prefers “women to look like women should.” To him, that means a tight white shirtdress barely long enough to cover my ass cheeks, white thigh-high stockings fastened with suspenders, and black Mary Janes with three-inch heels.

  And a smile. I can’t forget to wear my beautiful, womanly smile.

  This morning, that smile isn’t as hard to fake. Lissa’s been gone for almost six hours. And although the barn is in the middle of nowhere, she’s left the property often enough that she knows where to go for help and how far away it is. If not for her, I wouldn’t have any clue where we were, because I arrived blindfolded in the back of a van and haven’t gone anywhere since then. But she shared the info with me, drawing a map and making me memorize our location, just in case I was the one to escape. We’ve discussed the best way to reach the nearest highway without being spotted. After that, the plan is to hunker down until a semi-truck drives past. Only a semi-truck, because anyone on a motorcycle or in a car might be heading here to the stables, and we’d be screwed if we flagged down the wrong person. But a trucker is likely just passing through.

  If Lissa moved at a quick pace throughout the night, she should be reaching that highway…right about now. That’s what I’m thinking of when Victor meets me outside the door to the doc’s medical office, which means my cheery “Good morning, sir” isn’t as forced as it usually is.

  Like the other guards, Victor wears black army fatigues tucked into ankle-high boots and a black T-shirt as a uniform. He’s got the same high-and-tight as the others do, his dark hair buzzed close to the scalp at the sides and slightly longer on top. That’s where the similarities end, tho
ugh. They’re all in good shape, some bulky and some lean, though none exude the same strength that Victor does. But that impression of strength doesn’t have anything to do with Victor’s physicality, not really. Instead it’s in the way he holds himself, like a trap waiting to be sprung. It’s the way he looks at you, as if there’s nothing you can hide from him. Line all the guards up, and anyone could pick out Victor as the smartest and most dangerous of them all.

  The door to the medical office buzzes open, courtesy of a guard in the control booth, who’s watching us through the cameras mounted along the central aisle. I notice Victor glance toward Lissa’s door—she should have come out at the same time I did—and I quickly sweep inside the office, knowing that Victor will follow me in. He does, then unlocks the cabinet where all of the vitamins and medications are kept. Silently he stands watch as I prepare the individualized doses for the nine fighters in this barn, showing him each bottle of medication so he can check the label before I take any pills from it. They aren’t going to risk that I’ll poison one of their cash cows.