Chapter Four.

By the time Demon got back to the motel Lacy was gone, he wasn't surprised that she hadn't stuck around. More than likely she had watched him leave to meet Wolf and made her escape then, he was more pissed then worried about it. He would always be able to find her, that wasn't the issue. The problem was that he had no idea what in the hell he was going to do once he caught her or how he would ever get her to answer his questions.

It was starting to get dark and he didn't even know when the last time was he'd ate something, some sleep and a shower couldn't hurt either. He could pick up her trail tomorrow, she obviously wasn't planning on leaving town altogether or she'd have done so by now.

He headed towards a small local bar that the club frequented. He liked the silence and the atmosphere, he liked that he could blend in at the bar and just be alone with his thoughts. A cold beer and a hot burger is what he needed.

He walked into the bar and took a seat near the door, he ordered his burger and beer. The bartender hurried to comply and he flipped open his phone, studying the buttons that he knew so well. The number that he dialed the most was evident by the worn buttons. What the hell?

He dialed her number, knowing she probably wouldn't answer. It rang a few times then went straight to voicemail, he took a deep breath and paused before he spoke.

"Lacy, it's me. I don't know what's going on, but if you'd just talk to me. I just want to know what happened. Call me, don't make me come find you."

He hung up and tossed his phone down onto the bar, picking up his beer and taking a long slow drink. For the first time in as long as he'd known her, he couldn't figure our what Lacy was thinking.

A red head slid onto the stool next to him, crossing her legs in her too-short skirt. She flipped her hair and looked at him with sultry eyes, he glanced at her but barely took notice.

"Having a fight with you girlfriend?" She asked.

"No."

"That's what it sounded like to me."

"It's rude to eavesdrop."

"I can make you forget all about her," She offered, placing a hand on his thigh.

"No, thanks."

"I promise I'm worth every penny," She said leaning closer.

"I'm sure you are, but I'll pass."

She shrugged, her silky red hair slipping off her shoulder. She slid from the stool and sauntered across the room, looking for someone else to take her home.

His food came but when it arrived he realized he wasn't as hungry as he thought he was. He picked at a few french fries, replaying the past few days in his mind.

The one thing that he kept coming back to, the one part that replayed in his head the most was that Lacy was too good to make so many mistakes.

He had spent years training her not only on how to track someone, but also how to run if she had to and yet he had no problem tracking her down. Other than him and Zeke, she was the best shot in the club yet every time she fired at him she missed by a mere inch or two. She had knocked him out but left him unharmed.

Whatever Lacy was doing, whatever was going on one thing was clear to him. She wanted him to find her and she didn't want to kill him.

He forced himself to eat half of the cheeseburger, he needed to eat something. Once he had ate he realized how tired he really was, his muscles and bones felt almost liquidess, his head foggy.

"Do you know of any motels nearby? I need a place to crash." He asked the bartender.

"I rent the rooms above the bar," The bartender offered.

"Any available?"

"All three are empty."

"How much?"

"Sixty bucks a night."

Demon reached for his wallet and then tossed down a couple of hundred.

"I want the entire floor to myself for one night, is that okay?"

The bartender counted the money then gave a slight nod.

"I think that will be fine."

The bartender walked away and he picked up his bar, he needed to sleep. He leaned his head against his fore arm, letting his eyes slip closed.

Seven Years Earlier..................................................................

"Are you sure you've got the stomach for this?" He asked Lacy.

"I'm sure."

He shrugged and turned back to the man laying on the floor, he was stripped to his underwear his hand and feet bound tightly and laying on the cheap clear plastic that Demon always used to prevent evidence.

He kicked the man swiftly in the ribs and he awoke, he glanced from Demon to Lacy. He probably would have screamed had it not been for the duct tape. Demon couldn't deny the thrill that ran in his veins as the man came fully awake.

Demon was a lot of thing, a biker, a club member, a brother, a friend, an assassin but one thing that nobody knew about Demon. His deepest secret, Demon was a sadist and he loved his job.

"Now, we're going to ask some questions and you're going to answer them."

The man gave a fearful nod and Demon glanced at Lacy, she had slid to the edge of the metal chair. Her eyes wide, drinking everything in like a sponge.

Demon tore off the duct tape and tossed it aside.

"Where are the Knights keeping the shipment?"

"I don't know."

With a quick twist Demon snapped his pinky finger, the man screamed and tried to squirm away.

"Where?!"

"I don't know!"

Snap, the ring finger.

Lacy let out a noise, a barely audible gasp and Demons head snapped up to look at her. He waited for her to be repulsed, for her to pass out, to turn white at the sight of torture and run from the room.

So far he'd tried to find a partner and several of the toughest men had declined, six threw up, two passed out and one had left the club all together.

It wasn't horror, it wasn't disgust he saw in her eyes. Her porcelain skin was no whiter than usual but her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink, her pupils dilated and her breath coming in short gasps, she liked it.

"You okay?" He asked.

Her head snapped up from looking at the man to make eye contact with Demon, he saw it in her eyes. That feeling he always had but could never name, the rush from having control and power over another human being. The joy of hearing bones break, the relief of seeing blood run, the pure seducing power of torture.

In that singular moment he knew, he had a partner now.

Present day.................................

He lifted his head from the bar and slid from his stool, he started for his room and it was then he caught a glimpse of the woman near the jukebox. Young, but not too young with white blonde hair and a leather skirt.

He changed direction to approach her and she smiled at him.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"Twenty six."

"How much?" He asked, not caring if he was being blunt.

"For you? A hundred."

"Fine."

He grabbed her wrist in a grip that was probably a little bit too tight. She stumbled to keep up but he didn't care if she tripped. He went up the stairs picked a room at random and stepped inside dragging her with him, he kicked the door closed.

"What's your name?" She asked, turning towards him.

Her hands went to the buttons on her shirt and his own went to his belt. He pulled his belt from his pants and tossed it roughly aside, he had no intentions of answering her questions. There was no reason for this to be anything other than what it was.

"Leave the shirt on," he demanded.

"Okay, sure. It's your money."

There was a desk in the corner of the room and he roughly shoved her against it, moving behind her he gripped the back of her neck. Forcing her to bend at the waist and bend over the desk, he fumbled with his zipper with the other hand.

"You need some help?" she asked, trying to look over her shoulder.

"Shut up and don't look at me."

He forced her head onto the desk, his hand moving to clench in her white-blonde curls. He didn't want to hear her voice, he didn't want to see her face. Not tonight, not now. Usually he wasn't this rough with women unless they asked him to be, usually he tried to be somewhat of a gentleman but there was nothing gentle left in him.

He was rough with her, he pulled her hair until he was sure some strands would be pulled out. He drove for his own pleasure not hers, not caring if it hurt or if she could walk when she left. She didn't complain, didn't fight him and didn't try to speak again. She stayed there silent and unmoving, just as he demanded.

He allowed his baser instincts to take over, his mind to go to the dark places it longed to be. To a different woman with white-blonde curls and a broken desire to be saved.

He didn't ask the woman's name, but as he came down from his high and collapsed boneless on top of her a name still escaped his lips.

"Lacy."