Smolder: Satan’s Blazes MC, #2

By Sophia Gray

Smolder is book 2 of the Satan's Blazes MC trilogy. Book 3, Burn, is available everywhere now!

HE TOOK ME FOR MY SAFETY. BUT HE KEPT ME FOR HIS PLEASURE.

I never had a choice.
He says this is for my own good.
That I'd be dead without him.

At first, I believed him.
But then I learned who he really was…

And I can't get out.

I'm trapped in this killer's house.
And he's just turned his sights on me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sopris Page Press
• Release date: Feb 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386560562

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Smolder: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Satan’s Blazes MC Book 2)

By Sophia Gray

HE TOOK ME FOR MY SAFETY. BUT HE KEPT ME FOR HIS PLEASURE.

Inever had a choice .

He says this is for my own good.

That I’d be dead without him.

At first, I believed him.

But then I learned who he really was...

And I can’t get out.

I’m trapped in this killer’s house.

And he’s just turned his sights on me.

Chapter 1

Abby

Abby jumped out of the car as soon as it slid to a stop, bolting toward the black hunk of brick that used to be her home. Somebody yelled out her name, one of the neighbors, but she ignored it, heading for the open archway at the front of the building. My money , she thought as she ran inside the building. My fucking money . Before she could make it to the crumbled remains of the stairway, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her chest and yanked her backwards, back out into the smoky night.

Fuck—let me go! she screamed, kicking her legs to try to shake herself free. It was no use. Whoever was holding her was too strong.

It’s not safe yet. There’s nothing left in there. I looked, the man holding her said softly into her ear. Jagger. Of course. That fucking asshole telling her what to do. Abby kicked her legs a few more times, hoping he’d get the message and let her go, but he kept walking backwards, taking her back with him until he put her down on the hood of his car.

I checked, Abby, Jagger said, letting go of her once she stopped squirming in his strong arms. There’s nothing.

So, everything’s gone, Abby said, her voice coming out dull and hard, devoid of any emotion, even though her blood rushed through her veins.

Jagger nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the pavement, as if he were afraid to look at her. He should be, Abby thought angrily, wanting to feel tough and scary rather than small and meek, which was the truth of the situation. She was hopeless. She was useless. Everything she owned had been taken away from her and there was nothing she could do about it.

At least I have my mother’s necklace, she thought sadly, patting the pocket in her pants to make sure the little wooden box was still secure. If I have that, I can be strong. I can be tough. I can survive.

So, I don’t imagine this was some weird freak coincidence, huh? Abby said with a bitter laugh, finally getting Jagger to look up from the ground and meet her eyes.

The most obvious answer is usually the correct one, Jagger said, his eyes sad and deep and dark. Abby wanted him to look away from her again, the honest raw emotion in his eyes was too much to take, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away either.

Right, Abby replied, sniffling a little. She couldn’t tell if she was coming down with a cold or if her body was holding back tears without even trying. Abby had lots of practice doing that nowadays. So, any clues or...?

Don’t worry about that, Jagger said, offering Abby a sad smile.

Abby just scoffed and stood up straighter, stretching up to her full height. It was still several inches shy of Jagger’s eyes, so she had to keep staring up at him, feeling ridiculously tiny in comparison. How can you say that to me? she said, and embarrassingly the question came out sounding more hurt than accusatory. She set her jaw and forced herself to look and sound tougher than she really felt. I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just sit back and wait for you to bring the guy in?

Jagger shifted his weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms in front of his body. He was clearly uncomfortable, but he cleared his throat and said, "Well, what else can you do?"

I can fucking help, asshole! Abby said, her voice coming out high and shrill. She knew she sounded hysterical, but at this point she really didn’t give a shit. Her entire life had just been burnt down to a crisp, the cherry on top of the worst year she’d ever experienced, and now this asshole who barely knew her was telling her that there was nothing she could do about it. How the hell was she supposed to react? I’m not going to sit back like a good little girl and let you do all the heavy lifting. I’m helping. End of story.

Jagger shook his head, and his expression changed from sad and sympathetic to exasperated. You can’t. It’s too dangerous. Just leave it to me. I can handle it. I’ll take care of it for you. I promise.

He sounded so fucking sincere and sweet, but it only made Abby madder. She felt like one of her patients, being talked down to by an arrogant doctor. She didn’t want to be comforted. She didn’t want to be placated, having her anger contained and regulated and controlled. She wanted to let it loose, send it out flying into the night sky like a projectile weapon, aimed right at anyone who’d ever hurt her. Instead, Abby grumbled under her breath, not even saying words but just mumbling noises that felt good to say, letting Jagger imagine the meanest thing he could think of rather than coming up with anything herself.

Look, you’ve had a hard couple of days— Jagger started to say, but Abby cut him off.

Yeah, you can say that again, she said with another harsh, humorless laugh. She knew she was being a bitch, but she just didn’t have the energy to care.

I know, Jagger said softly, stepping a little closer to her and dropping his voice when he spoke again. Look, I know you’ve been through so much lately. It’s not fair. You deserve better.

Abby could feel herself glaring at him, incapable of softening her eyes even if she wanted to.

Jagger kept talking. I know you want to help, but it’ll go better if you let me handle things. I’m a professional. I know what I’m doing here.

Abby clicked her teeth and laughed a little, but it came out more like a frustrated huff of air. Yeah, right. And that’s why there have been a dozen fires now, and you still haven’t found the guy who did it.

Silence fell between them, the air crackling with the weight of what Abby had just said. She kept her eyes trained on Jagger’s, refusing to look away or show any sign of weakness, preventing herself from even blinking once. Jagger returned the action, staring deeply into her eyes, his expression stony and unreadable. Abby wondered if she finally crossed a line and used up all Jagger’s patience with her. She knew she wasn’t easy to even tolerate, let alone be kind to, when she was pissed off. She wasn’t always this way. Back in the day she was nice to everyone, not just her patients. After she got sick and especially after the debacle with her ex, she just didn’t have the ability to be compassionate and sweet and light anymore. It had been taken from her, just like her money, just like her favorite patient, just like her home. She had nothing left except her anger, and she was going to use it as well as she could.

Jagger finally tore his eyes away from her, looking back at the burned apartment building. You’re right, he said a moment later, still not looking at her. I have fucked up. I should have handled this by now. I know things about this guy that I didn’t before. He fucked up somewhere, and he knows it. If he hadn’t... Jagger trailed off for a second, sighing deeply. He sounded so tired that Abby felt a little glimmer of sympathy for him spark up in her mind before she shut it down, not wanting to feel anything but the hard bitterness that kept her going. "If he hadn’t targeted you, I wouldn’t know anything about him, except that he apparently hates Satan’s Blazes. Robert must have known the guy, known him pretty well, to figure out where you lived. Even if he’s just been following you