Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) by MariaLisa deMora Read Free Book Online Page A

thoughtfully. It was a beautiful evening, the air soft and chilly, but not quite cold against her skin. The weather was fairly nice for a Chicago November, and these cozy neighborhoods were filled with the sounds of families and couples winding down from their frantic career race into the pleasant stillness of home.
    She turned to cut down an alley shortcut, and Mica was rehearsing lines in her head for what she could say later tonight. She wanted to be ready for when Michael came banging on her door with his drunken apologies as she knew he would. She knew she needed to stand her ground this time and make sure he understood that she was done. She was simply done putting up with his shit, finally. He needed somewhere else to call home. “Home,” she scoffed, because it had become more like a battleground in the months he had lived there, no longer the sanctuary it once was.
    A sound from up the alley caught her attention, and she whipped her head up to see two men in front of her. They were stepping away from the walls, walking to the center of the alley from the sides. Stopping quickly, she backed up a step and turned to run back the way she had come, only to see two more men at that end of the alley.
    Oh, shit. Okay, put a good face on it ; this is no worse than the cowboys at home. No doubt. Just breathe, Mica. I’m sure they’re just playing around. Yeah…that’s right , she thought. Straightening her shoulders and gripping her purse strap a little more tightly, she reversed her direction and strode forward again, angling to the right of the first two men. “Excuse me,” she said politely as she moved to the side to pass them courteously.
    Her head hurt unexpectedly, ears buzzing deafeningly. Her eyes were watering, but through the blur, she could see she’d been spun around into the brick wall. The pain was from smashing the back of her head against the hard surface where she was being held. Instinctively, she brought up her arm, using her elbow to break the man’s hold on her upper arm, clipping his chin hard as she twisted sideways.
    “Bag, bitch,” a muffled voice croaked in her ear, “be fucking still.” A heavy body pulled her out and then pushed her face-first into the wall, smacking her head against the bricks again. She rose onto her toes as her right arm was twisted high behind her back, her shoulder hurting brutally as the joint gave abruptly, popping out of socket with a sickening snap. Mica screamed breathlessly in pain, but she kept fighting both against her attacker and the waves of dizziness and nausea assaulting her body. She used the sudden leverage given to her from her attacker’s change in grip to bring her head back into his face, feeling a sickening rush of warm fluid down her back as his nose broke.
    A rasping voice called from behind her, “Bitch, fucking bitch, give me the fucking bag. Dammit, get her down boys. Get control.” She twisted and kicked out blindly, putting her hip into the wall to give the kick greater force. Remembering a tip from a defense lesson, she threw her purse far across the alley.
    Two men lay at her feet, looking up at her with anger twisting their features as they moved to stand again. Please, God, let them go for the bag. Let them go for it, let them go for it, go for it , she thought. She shifted against the wall, compacting her stance and preparing to run if the purse was what they wanted and they gave her an opening.
    Her ears had started working a little again, and she heard a rumble of noise. It was a wave really, and came down the alley towards them from one end. Scanning the other way, she saw a car had pulled into the other end of the alley, disgorging its driver at a dead run towards the knot of men and Mica.
    Still crouching slightly, she closely watched her assailants to see what this meant for a continued attack. Keeping her dislocated arm as still as she could, she angled it straight down by her side, but the pain kept everything going in