Bullied Mate Of The Biker Brothers

{LUMIRA} "Get her!" I never thought Christmas Day would be the day my life would take an even darker turn. Tears rolled from my tired eyes as my bare, bruised feet scraped against gritty sand, jagged pebbles, and dried leaves. The Moscow were fast on my trail, relentless hunters fueled by rage, all because my husband had struck a deal with the devil. According to them, Conan had taken a loan and had refused to pay even after the stipulated date was extended twice. Now, they intend to show no mercy. "You are going to be dead meat when we catch you!" Another impassive voice rang behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I knew that wasn't an empty threat. The Moscow never issues empty threats. Countless times, news of how they clobbered their victims spread rapidly like wildfire. Not once did I think I would face the same fate, especially not in the wee hours of Christmas. "You better halt right now, woman!" Every part of me knew what would happen the second I stopped. My blood would be drained out of my body, made into a cold drink used to quench their bloody thirst. So I kept running. My heart consumed by an indescribable pain that made my chest constrict painfully. Life with Conan had been a terrible nightmare. Not once had there been a reason for laughter, only tears, depression, and emotional ruin. He would leave the house as though he were heading to a reputable firm, only to end up at the casino; gambling, smoking, and drinking away his life with his doomed cohorts. At night, when he returned, the atmosphere would turn sour. He'd always demand meals, yet he had never given me money to prepare any. As soon as he was done eating, I became an object to satisfy his lustful desires. "You are here to f**k me, clean after me, and cook for me." These were his usual taunts. There was a time I decided to rebel. The incessant pain and suffering morphed into courage, and I chose not to prepare a meal for him. When he got home, he gave my face a makeover. Purple, blue, and black bruises smeared my petite face like concealer. Since then, I became timid and never tried that again. You might ask why I never left this calamitous marriage. Well, I attempted to flee...once. Within ten hours, Conan traced me to the train station two cities away from Stormfield, our Pack, accompanied by some thugs. He beat me to a pulp at the station, bleeding in full view of onlookers too frightened to intervene. Being with Conan left my life, dreams, and visions discarded like a spoiled cabbage, and it was all because of my father, Theron. Another man with a gambling addiction. Since my mother died ten years ago, Greg, my older brother, and I have had to put up with our father's hedonistic lifestyle and frivolous spending. Don't get me wrong, my father never works. He's as lazy as a sloth, yet he spends every penny we make from our shifts. Fortunately for Greg, he found a mate and moved out of the house, leaving me to the fangs of the money-sucking wastrel. Without remorse, he would steal the savings I painstakingly gathered to become a seamstress, and then gamble it away. Then one day, I discovered he sold me off to Conan because of a debt he couldn't pay off. Now at the age of twenty, three months pregnant with Conan's child...my life sucked even worse. "Stop right there, we are warning you!" I ran around a corner and dashed toward the outskirts of the Pack. The metallic taste of fear clawed at my tongue, and tears streamed relentlessly down my cheeks. What would happen to me? To my unborn baby? Despite Conan being an asshole, I wouldn't want anything happening to my precious jewel. The only ray of hope I've managed to cling to for the past three months. At this point, my soles stung so badly and were blistered from pebbles that had punctured my skin. Every step was agony, yet I scrambled forward, driven by the single thought of protecting my unborn child. At last, the faint glow of the highway appeared ahead, a slender thread of light in the suffocating darkness. For the first time in hours, a flicker of hope ignited in my chest. Just as my feet pressed forward, craving to find someone who would yank me away from this moment of misery, a savage force swept my feet, hurling me to the ground. "Oww!" I groaned weakly, my face against shrubs and dried leaves scattered at the curb before the road. Pain radiated in my legs as I tried to scramble forward, but it was useless. Five shadows loomed over me, their smirks cruel, their movements coordinated like predators circling their prey. I swallowed hard, pressing my lips together and dreading whatever they intended to do with me. The rhythm of my heartbeat doubled. "You thought you could outrun us?" Asked one of them, a sly grin plastered on his lips. "We needed to tire you out because we intend to f**k you mercilessly for the hassle you put us through." "Please," I begged, my hands pressed in front of me, fresh tears clouding my vision. "Please I'm pregnant." For a brief second of silence, shock flashed through their eyes only to be masked by the next second with indifference. They suddenly burst out laughing, as though being pregnant was comical. One of them crouched in front of me. His jaw was tight, veins standing out on his neck, and his stare burned straight through me. "Where is your husband?" Bile formed in my throat as I opened my mouth to speak. "I—I don't know." Fear made me a stuttering mess. By now, other men had stopped laughing. "What do you mean you don't know?" demanded another, his voice sharp and frightful. "Didn't he come home last night?" I inclined my head in agreement. "Yes, he did." "And?" "A—hem." I cleared my throat, my gut plummeting with dread. "He did, but I swear to you. I didn't know how he vanished before dawn." Four of them chuckled, but the one in front of me, held a frown. "She is covering up for her devious husband." Added a dirty-blond, cloaked in a greasy brown leather jacket. "I swear I'm not!" I screamed, desperation latching at my throat. "I am not covering for him." "Yes, you are." The one crouching in front of me said assertively. "You're pregnant. You wouldn't want us to murder the father of your unborn child in cold blood now, would you?" His predatory eyes demanded answers. I was at a crossroads. Of course, Conan had never been a good husband, but that doesn't mean he might be a bad father. But as for me, I'd preferred if he died. Maybe then, this series of humiliation, nightmares, and abuse would come to an end. "We shouldn't waste much time." Said a brown-haired. "I'm horny. Let's have our way with her and let her bleed to death." "Or we could pluck her eyes out after f*****g her mercilessly." "I'd rather we tear her apart flesh by flesh, then dump the pound of flesh in her apartment for that piece of s**t she calls a husband to meet when he returns." I forced another saliva down. They were debating about my life as if I weren't there. Like I was a mannequin or it meant nothing to rip apart a pregnant woman. In a minute, the one in front of me yanked up my dress, exposing my bare thighs to their lecherous view. Their lustful eyes pinned down my body, sizing me up. "Please don't do this." I cried, my voice croaky with moisture. "Please I have never spent a dime out of the money he borrowed. All my life, I've worked for everything I own. Please pity me, I'm begging you." "We don't do pity." One spat nonchalantly, his voice laced with venom. Ignoring my pleas, he forcefully yanked both of my arms above my head, pressed his knee into my bone, confining me. "Get on with it, boys." "No, please!" I yelled at the top of my lungs as if my pleas would make them have a change of heart. "Please, I can work for the money and pay it back. Just don't hurt me and my child. Please!" Snort dripped out of my nose amid my predicament. They began to unbuckle their belts synchronously, and as one of them violently yanked my legs apart, another settled between my thighs. "No, please, no!" "Stop fussing!" A slap landed right on my mouth, hard. It stung so bad, shutting me up for a brief second but I instantly began to yell again. That was when all hell broke loose. Sharp claws began to tear at my skin...my arm, my stomach, my neck, my legs. They no longer seemed interested in taking advantage of me, they were brutally mauling my body instead. I screamed from the pain tearing at my flesh, begging and wishing it would stop, but it never did. Their snickers flashing vividly in my face in the midst of an assault. Suddenly, like a miracle, the distant growl of engines punctured the air. The sound grew louder, rolling through the dark, vibrating the ground beneath my cheek. Someone paused amongst them. "Those bikes. Could those be Storm Brothers?" Horror flashed in his eyes as though he remembered a cruel encounter with them. "They wouldn't notice us." Another shut down his worries while the assault rained on me. A fist crashed into my ribs, knocking the air from my lungs and I tasted blood. With anguish, I attempted to reach for my stomach, but my hand was pulled roughly to the side, dislocating my joint. I wish for someone to save me. Anyone. And as if the universe was finally hearkening to my prayers, the bikes rolled to a halt a few steps away, and then intimidating voices followed. "You'd better have a good reason for this." "Wait, is that a woman?" Giving no time for the Moscow to react, bodies began to fly across the air. Soon, the assault stopped, but the pain and trauma never did. "Five of you against a woman?!" A voice barked from the shadows. I couldn't move an inch. Though I could feel every bit of blood spurting out of the inflicted wounds on my body. Despite my pain, despite my tears, the only thing I kept wishing for, was for my baby to be saved. I'd give the universe anything as long as my baby was unharmed. Loud scuffles followed by grunts unfolded in the background, yet I remained in my spot, feeling life draining out of me bit by bit. My teary eyes stared blankly at the muted sky above me, its dark blue haze swimming as my vision blurred, the last traces of night pressing down while my strength quietly ebbed away. Just then, a face slipped into my line of sight, blocking the sky. A voice followed low and urgent. "Hey...are you okay?" How could I be okay after five men nearly tried to take advantage of me for the money I didn't spend? How could I be okay after they harassed me and then brutally assaulted me? Emotions clawed my throat as I managed to speak with tears falling down my face. "My baby...please save my baby." The face above me blurred. The world grew quiet. My strength gave out and darkness pulled me under.