Inferno Souls MC: The Debt of the Forbidden Four

Distracting Thoughts

## Chapter 2: Distracting Thoughts

The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out, replaced by a heavy, suffocating pressure that made my lungs ache. I kept my gaze fixed on the scuffed wooden floorboards, counting the grains in the wood just to keep my mind from fracturing. But no matter how hard I stared at the ground, I couldn't ignore the man standing less than three feet away from me. His presence was a physical weight, a dark sun that pulled everything into its orbit.

**Ozias.** Just thinking his name felt like a betrayal of the life I had tried so hard to build over the last five years. To the rest of the world, he was Karma—the lethal, uncompromising president of the Inferno’s Demons MC. He was the man who held the keys to this city, the one people whispered about in dark corners, fearing his shadow. But to me, he was the ghost of a childhood I had tried to set on fire. He was the boy who used to share his secret stashes of candy with me behind the clubhouse, the one who swore on his life that he’d never let the grime of the biker world touch me.

Now, he *was* the grime. He was the darkness. And he was standing in my sanctuary, looking at me with eyes that were colder than the rain lashing against the windowpanes.

“You're going to have to look at me eventually, Princess,” he said.

His voice had changed. It was deeper now, a gravelly baritone that vibrated in my chest and sent a frantic shiver racing down my spine. It wasn't the voice of the boy who used to comfort me after a nightmare; it was the voice of a man who created them. I finally forced my chin up, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was staggering. There was a flicker of something there—rage, perhaps, or maybe a twisted longing—but it was quickly masked by a stone-cold resolve.

My mind was a chaotic mess of distracting thoughts. I should have been planning my next escape. I should have been looking for a weapon, or at least a way out of this room. Instead, I was cataloging the changes in him. The way his shoulders had broadened, the thick cords of muscle in his neck, and the intricate tattoos that spilled out from under the sleeves of his leather vest and crawled up his throat. He was a masterpiece of violence and power.

“Why am I here, Ozias?” I asked. My voice sounded thin and brittle, like dry leaves being crushed underfoot. I used his real name on purpose. I wanted to see him flinch. I wanted to remind him that before the patches and the blood, there was a boy who loved me.

He didn't flinch. If anything, his expression grew harder. “You're here because you were careless. You've been living in my territory, breathing my air, and thinking you were invisible. Did you really think I wouldn't find you?”

“I'm not part of your world anymore,” I spat, a spark of my old defiance finally flickering to life. “I haven't been for a long time. You and the others made sure of that. You were one of the five, Ozias. You were one of my protectors. And you watched as I was handed over to a monster. You let my mother trade me like a piece of property to avoid 'club drama.' So don't come in here and act like I owe you anything.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Outside, the thunder rolled, a low growl that seemed to echo the tension in the room. Karma stepped closer, and this time, I couldn't stop myself from taking a step back until my shoulders hit the wall. He didn't stop until he was inches away, his heat radiating off him in waves. He smelled of woodsmoke, expensive leather, and the ozone of the storm.

“You think you know what happened that night?” he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. He reached out, his gloved hand coming up to rest on the wall beside my head, effectively pinning me in place. “You think we just stood by and let you go because it was easy? You have no idea what we went through to find you. You have no idea what I had to do just to get the information on where that bastard took you.”

“And yet, you never came,” I whispered, my eyes stinging with tears I refused to shed. “Five years, Ozias. Five years of hell. I was beaten. I was broken. I was turned into a shadow. And not once did a single member of the Inferno’s demons come through that door to save me. I had to save myself.”

His thumb grazed my jawline, a touch so light it was almost a ghost, yet it felt like a brand. “I’m here now,” he said, his eyes darkening to a shade of midnight. “And I’m the only thing standing between you and the men who are currently scouring this city for you. Your husband hasn't stopped looking, Princess. And your 'sperm donor' of a father? He’s already made a deal with a rival club to bring you back. You’re a prize again. A debt to be collected.”

The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold despite his heat. The safety I thought I had found in my quiet, lonely life was a delusion. The nightmare hadn't ended; it had just been hitting the snooze button.

“So what now?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Are you going to be the one to hand me back this time? Is that the debt? You protect me for a few days and then sell me to the highest bidder?”

Karma let out a dark, humorless laugh that sent a fresh wave of dread through me. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from my ear. “I don't sell what’s mine,” he growled. “And make no mistake, you are mine. You’ve always been mine. The debt you owe me isn't in money, and it isn't in favors. It’s in loyalty. You’re going to stay right here, under my protection, until I decide what to do with you.”

I felt a sob rise in my throat, but I choked it back. I had spent so long fighting for my freedom, only to find myself back in a cage—even if this cage was lined with leather and smelled of the man I used to love. The distracting thoughts were becoming a whirlwind now. I thought of my mother’s betrayal, the cold look in my protectors' eyes as I was driven away, and the way my heart had shattered into a million pieces on that day five years ago.

“I won't be your prisoner,” I said, trying to push past him.

He didn't move. He was an immovable object, a mountain of muscle and stubbornness. “You're not a prisoner, Princess. You're a guest. But if you try to leave this clubhouse, I'll have you chained to my bed before you hit the parking lot. Do I make myself clear?”

I stared at him, searching for even a glimpse of the boy I once knew. But he was gone. In his place was a king who ruled with an iron fist, and I was just another subject in his kingdom. Or worse, a trophy.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

Karma didn't flinch. He just leaned back, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. “Good,” he said. “Hate is a strong emotion. It’ll keep you sharp. Now, get some rest. We have a lot to discuss tomorrow, and you’re going to need your strength for the drama that's coming.”

He turned and walked toward the door, his heavy boots thudding against the wood. At the threshold, he paused, looking back over his shoulder. “And Princess? Don't even think about the window. There are three guards outside who would love an excuse to put their hands on you. Only I get to touch you. Remember that.”

With that, he stepped out and closed the door, the click of the lock echoing like a gunshot in the quiet room. I collapsed onto the bed, the “distracting thoughts” finally winning as I buried my face in the pillow, smelling the faint, lingering scent of him. I was back in the lions' den, and this time, there was no one left to save me but the lion himself.