Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book One
Recently escaped from the only home she's ever known, Letha moves out to Las Vegas to start a new life away from the people who sought to ruin her. Broke and jobless, with no employers calling her back...
*We're nearing the end, you guys! I love you all so much! I'm in such awe at how amazing all my readers are. Some days I look at the read count on this story and I cannot believe how many of you have chosen to pick this book up. I want to thank each and every one of you. You make me happy and I love you all.*
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•Letha•
I don't remember anything after being knocked out outside of the hotel I was supposed to meet Dmitri at.
One second I was panicking that I was too late and the next, well, everything was dark after that.
Until now.
A brightness shines over my head and I slowly open my eyes to see the rectangular light above the rear view mirror in a car beaming down on me.
My head spins when I try to sit up and a wave of nausea hits me, causing me to double over and release the contents of my stomach, yet again, onto the floor of the vehicle.
I'm surprised there was even anything left to vomit.
"Disgusting," growls an irate voice from beside me, causing me to jump back and hit my head against the passenger side window, a small yelp escaping my lips.
I blink rapidly to clear my vision and see Dmitri leaned back comfortably in the drivers seat, a half-empty bottle of vodka perched between his thighs and a line of cocaine on a sheet of glass balanced on his knee.
"Where the fuck am I?" I demand, attempting to scoot as far from him as I can without getting out of the car. I could try, but I know the door would be locked.
He leans forward and snorts two lines of the white powder with a rolled up hundred before collapsing backwards, his eyes closing and his mouth hanging agape.
For a second, he doesn't stir and I pray that the drug has stopped his heart, but my hopes fall as soon as his cold grey eyes flicker open once again.
He sniffs a few times then takes a long pull from the bottle of vodka.
I use that time to look around me, knowing he isn't actually going to tell me where we are.
From what I can tell, there are no paved roads nearby. Just the long expanse of the desert and a semi-marked road leading up to this warehouse-looking building that could double as a residence if you didn't mind living in such a strange structure.
Cars and motorcycles surround the building that has very few windows and several guards posted all around it.
Men wearing black leather vests - like Blade and the club's - are carrying rifles walk back and forth, a few sending looks our way every now and then.
I shiver when a man with long greying hair makes eye contact with me, his lips twisting up into a sadistic smirk before blowing me a kiss and nudging one of his buddies to look my way.
