Read Online Firetrap: The Soul Scorchers MC (The Scorched Souls Serial-series Book 1) by C.L. Riley - Free Book Online
Authors: C.L. Riley
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already dead, had my gut churning. Why she affected me the way she did was beyond insane. Yes, I was pissed about her comments yesterday, but not enough to wish her harm. Unless, of course, I was the one doing the harming, and it wouldn’t be harm in the traditional sense, more like a little humiliation prior to inflicting the punishing pleasure we both would enjoy, if my intuition about her was correct.
As feisty and in control as Olympia Olsen presented herself, underneath she was a submissive waiting to be dominated.
I quickly banished the thoughts, disgusted by my line of thinking considering the circumstances.
Ready to turn back and join the search team, I spotted something pink further up the ridge. What the hell?
Eager to investigate, I was forced to halt and slipped behind a cluster of trees, delayed by heavy footsteps and lowered voices that silenced the usual forest symphony.
With practiced precision, I pulled my Glock from the underarm holster I wore when hiking. Never leave home without your 9mm was my motto, a habit that had saved my life more than once, and would likely save it again right now.
“I doubt she made it this far,” a hooded man announced, making no effort to lower his voice. “She had to be pretty fucked up after that fire. I bet she’s dead or dying.”
“Pyro said not to come back without her,” his accomplice shot back. “It’s not a good idea to piss off Pyro.”
I strained to see, but couldn’t get a good look at either of them without revealing my location. One wore a navy hoodie, the other a black stocking cap. Both appeared to be of average build and about six feet tall. Not much to go on.
“That search team will be out here soon. We need to be gone. Pyro said that too, remember?”
I shook my head, tempted to shoot them both. They were idiots, unprofessional and untrained. Whoever the mysterious Pyro was, he was an amateur when it came to delegating. If he was the one setting the fires, he at least had that particular task mastered. To go this long without being caught, was a testament to his skills.
“Let’s go. She’s not out here. We should have started further south.”
Amazed, I watched as the duo disappeared into the brush, failing to notice the glaring pink fabric.
When I was sure they were out of earshot, I made my way to what I now suspected was Olympia’s body.
I arrived just in time. Two scrawny coyotes were nosing around her feet, preparing to make a meal from her corpse. Dead or not, she didn’t deserve to be torn to shreds.
Reaching for my weapon, I hesitated. If I fired a shot at them, I’d bring ‘Dumb’ and ‘Dumber’ back. Not to mention, I risked alerting the gathering searchers and ATF. Instead, I waved my arms and lunged. Like any sensible adversary faced with someone my size, they backed away, growling. I stomped my foot and they fled, tails between their legs.
Dropping to my knees by Olympia, I brushed a ratted and filthy mass of hair from her soot-covered face. Anger and anguish battled for control inside me. I wanted to kill whoever had done this to her; and at the same time, I was ready to shed tears, something I hadn’t done even when Rita died. Holy Fuck.
I checked her pulse and stared at her chest, willing her to breathe.
“Come on, Olympia. You’re a fighter,” I urged.
I lifted my hands; ready to start CPR on the off chance she could be revived.
She whimpered. Her chest rattled and she coughed. “Thirsty.”
“Fuck yes. That’s my girl.” Scooping her up, I held her to my chest. Fumbling, I found my water bottle and brought it to her lips. “Easy. Just a little.”
She latched on like a baby to a breast, sucking down the water so fast she choked, sputtered, but resumed drinking until she emptied what was left.
“That’s all there is. You might need an IV.” I had no doubt she needed one, and I knew what I had to do. It was a good thing I was strong. I lifted her into my arms, relieved by how light she
As feisty and in control as Olympia Olsen presented herself, underneath she was a submissive waiting to be dominated.
I quickly banished the thoughts, disgusted by my line of thinking considering the circumstances.
Ready to turn back and join the search team, I spotted something pink further up the ridge. What the hell?
Eager to investigate, I was forced to halt and slipped behind a cluster of trees, delayed by heavy footsteps and lowered voices that silenced the usual forest symphony.
With practiced precision, I pulled my Glock from the underarm holster I wore when hiking. Never leave home without your 9mm was my motto, a habit that had saved my life more than once, and would likely save it again right now.
“I doubt she made it this far,” a hooded man announced, making no effort to lower his voice. “She had to be pretty fucked up after that fire. I bet she’s dead or dying.”
“Pyro said not to come back without her,” his accomplice shot back. “It’s not a good idea to piss off Pyro.”
I strained to see, but couldn’t get a good look at either of them without revealing my location. One wore a navy hoodie, the other a black stocking cap. Both appeared to be of average build and about six feet tall. Not much to go on.
“That search team will be out here soon. We need to be gone. Pyro said that too, remember?”
I shook my head, tempted to shoot them both. They were idiots, unprofessional and untrained. Whoever the mysterious Pyro was, he was an amateur when it came to delegating. If he was the one setting the fires, he at least had that particular task mastered. To go this long without being caught, was a testament to his skills.
“Let’s go. She’s not out here. We should have started further south.”
Amazed, I watched as the duo disappeared into the brush, failing to notice the glaring pink fabric.
When I was sure they were out of earshot, I made my way to what I now suspected was Olympia’s body.
I arrived just in time. Two scrawny coyotes were nosing around her feet, preparing to make a meal from her corpse. Dead or not, she didn’t deserve to be torn to shreds.
Reaching for my weapon, I hesitated. If I fired a shot at them, I’d bring ‘Dumb’ and ‘Dumber’ back. Not to mention, I risked alerting the gathering searchers and ATF. Instead, I waved my arms and lunged. Like any sensible adversary faced with someone my size, they backed away, growling. I stomped my foot and they fled, tails between their legs.
Dropping to my knees by Olympia, I brushed a ratted and filthy mass of hair from her soot-covered face. Anger and anguish battled for control inside me. I wanted to kill whoever had done this to her; and at the same time, I was ready to shed tears, something I hadn’t done even when Rita died. Holy Fuck.
I checked her pulse and stared at her chest, willing her to breathe.
“Come on, Olympia. You’re a fighter,” I urged.
I lifted my hands; ready to start CPR on the off chance she could be revived.
She whimpered. Her chest rattled and she coughed. “Thirsty.”
“Fuck yes. That’s my girl.” Scooping her up, I held her to my chest. Fumbling, I found my water bottle and brought it to her lips. “Easy. Just a little.”
She latched on like a baby to a breast, sucking down the water so fast she choked, sputtered, but resumed drinking until she emptied what was left.
“That’s all there is. You might need an IV.” I had no doubt she needed one, and I knew what I had to do. It was a good thing I was strong. I lifted her into my arms, relieved by how light she
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