The Devil's Ride

His Payment

Rachel’s POV

I tried to steady my breathing while Scar fixed his pants, my eyes drifting to his hands before I could stop myself. I wondered what he was working with down there, and the thought made heat crawl back into my skin.

It was f****d up. I knew that. Letting a man I barely knew finger me like that in a club bathroom should have scared me. It should have made me regret everything.

But it didn’t.

He caught me staring.

My gaze dropped instantly to the floor, my face burning as I tried to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks.

“Let’s f*****g go,” he said. “It’s time to tell your lovely mother what I want in return for helping her ass.”

Before I could react, his hand wrapped around my arm.

“Hey,” I started, but he was already unlocking the door.

He dragged me out of the bathroom and into the noise of the club, his grip firm and unyielding, like he had already decided I wasn’t going anywhere without him.

Instead of taking me back into the club, Scar dragged me down a narrow hallway and straight into his office.

My mother was already there.

She sat stiffly in one of the chairs across from his desk, her hands clasped together, with Ace standing near the wall like a shadow watching over her. The sight of them made my stomach drop.

Scar released my arm and moved around his desk, sitting down like he owned the world. He slipped a cigarette between his lips, lighting it slowly. The image of his mouth brought an unwanted shiver over me, and I hated myself for it.

Ace leaned down and whispered something to him. They both looked at me.

I lowered myself into the chair beside my mother, my heart pounding. As long as I could go home after this, I didn’t care what he wanted from her. I just wanted out.

My mother cleared her throat.

“Scar,” she said quietly. “What do you want?”

He leaned back in his chair, smoke curling around his face, a slow smile spreading across his mouth.

“Well, Mo,” he said, “I’ve decided what I want as my f*****g payment.”

I felt the room tighten around me.

“I want your daughter.”

My head snapped up.

“You f*****g what?”

His eyes locked on mine.

“I want you,” he said calmly. “I need a wife and I need a child as soon as possible. And you’ll do just fine.”

My jaw dropped. I shook my head, disbelief crashing into rage.

“No f*****g way,” I said. “You have to be joking.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he replied. “Not even a little.”

“f**k you.”

Silence fell over the room.

Then my mother spoke.

“If this gets me out of this mess,” she said, her voice flat, “then fine. Marry her. She’s yours.”

The words hit me harder than any slap ever could.

I turned to her, my chest burning.

“You didn’t even argue,” I said. “Are you serious?”

She wouldn’t look at me.

Even Scar looked surprised just for a second. Then his face hardened again.

“Very well,” he said. “You’re free to go, Mo.”

My mother stood up immediately.

“But your daughter stays.”

She walked to the door without looking back.

“Mom,” I cried, my voice breaking. “Mom!”

She didn’t stop.

The door closed behind her, and just like that, she was gone.

I sat there shaking, tears blurring my vision, unable to breathe, unable to speak.

Scar stood up slowly and stepped toward me.

“Looks like you’re mine now, Spitfire,” he said.

Did my mother really just hand me over like that?

I sat frozen in the chair, staring at the door she had walked out of, my chest tight and burning. My ears rang like I had been slapped. One minute she was begging for help, the next she was gone, leaving me behind with a man who looked at me like I was already his.

Scar leaned back against the edge of his desk, watching me quietly. He looked relaxed, almost amused, like this was all going exactly the way he wanted.

“You know,” he said casually, “I could have you sign a document and get this marriage s**t done tonight.”

My head snapped up.

“But,” he continued, tilting his head slightly, “because I like you, I’ll let you have a real wedding. Dress... Guests... All that pretty bullshit. If that’s your thing.”

My stomach twisted.

“f**k you,” I said. My voice shook, but I didn’t care. “I’m not staying here with you. Who the f**k do you think you are?”

A low, cold laugh rolled out of him. It wasn’t loud, but it filled the room anyway. He turned his head slightly toward Ace and shook it once.

“You got yourself a joker, Scar,” Ace said, smirking.

“I’m not joking,” I snapped. “I won’t stay here. You can’t make me.”

Scar’s attention snapped back to me fully. His eyes dragged over my face slowly, like he was studying me, memorizing me.

“You’re a f*****g adorable girl, Spitfire,” he said. His voice dropped, slow and deliberate. “Now you and I are going back to my place.”

Something sick and confusing curled in my stomach. I hated him. I hated the way he talked. I hated that my body reacted anyway, heat creeping into my skin even as my mind screamed no.

He straightened, reaching for the helmet on his desk. He didn’t look at me when he spoke again.

“Let’s go. It’s late, and I need my beauty sleep.”

I didn’t move.

I stayed seated, my hands gripping the arms of the chair, my feet flat against the floor like I could anchor myself there.

Scar walked past me toward the door, slow and unhurried. He stopped just short of it. His back stayed to me as he bowed his head slightly, letting out a long breath when he realized I hadn’t followed.

The room suddenly felt smaller and tighter.

“Either you get the f**k up and walk,” he said calmly, “or I’ll make the decision for you.”

I leaned back harder in the chair, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.

“I’m not moving,” I said. “I already told you that.”

He turned his head just enough for me to see his profile.

“One…” he said.

I stayed still.

“Two…”

I watched his jaw tighten, the muscle jumping as he clenched his teeth. His patience was thinning, and it showed.

“Three.”

He finally turned fully, his gaze locking onto mine.

“Ace,” he said evenly. “Help her up.”

Ace snatched me up from the chair and literally threw me into Scar's open arms with a little bit of force. Then, Scar threw me over his shoulder roughly and smacked me hard on my ass, leaving a sharp stinging sensation behind.

“Ouch!” I yelled.

“I f*****g warned you. And a little slap on you is nothing compared to what I normally do. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Is this what you call lucky?” I shot back. “Lucky?”

Of course, he ignores me as he opens his office door and carries me out with Ace grinning at me from behind Scar.

I'm going to kill my mother for doing this s**t to me.