Outlaw's Ride: An MC Romance

by Carter Steele

  My restlessness mixed with the dawn light warming my sparse room and forcing me out of bed. I could have stayed there all morning just thinking, but last night Patrick told me to meet him downstairs in the laundromat this morning at eight and to come dressed to go out. I had no idea what he had in store for me, but it didn’t matter. It never mattered. It wasn’t like I ever had a say in anything he decided. There was only one real decision I could ever make. Stay or leave. And with no actual security preventing me from walking out the doors it was the most difficult decision in my life. It was also the easiest. If I left there was no telling what he’d do to my mom and brother.

  So I stayed despite whatever he made me do.

  After making a cup of instant coffee and getting dressed I made my way down the stairs. The weather had warmed up and was looking like it was going to be a beautifully sunny day. Despite everything a warm day always tickled a sense of optimism in me. It made me feel like there was more to the world than my own personal hell. Maybe, just maybe, someday I’d even be able to experience it.

  Catching my reflection in the mirror at the bottom of the stairs dulled that comforting feeling. I rewrapped my drooping purple scarf so as to hide the marks and scars around my neck then apprehensively waited for Patrick’s arrival.

  Was he going to have me listen in on a shady business meeting so I could find a way for him to destroy them later, or was he going to offer me up like some prize pig for slaughter to secure a new partnership? I could never begin to even guess what was in store so I tried not to think about it at all, instead letting my thoughts drift back to Wreck’s dark eyes and strong arms.

  It was the closest thing to a happy place I had had in a long, long time.

  The door was unlocked and thrust open. Patrick stormed in texting something furiously on his phone, probably some business deal gone wrong. Whatever it was, the anger was written all over his face. His bad mood didn’t bode well for me. He set down a laptop case and typed on, not bothering to acknowledge my presence in any way. He didn’t have to check to see if I’d be there waiting when he already knew that I would. I’d only ever openly disobeyed him once, then never again.

  “Give me your scarf,” Patrick said without looking up.

  I froze.

  When he finally looked at me I started quickly signing questions and excuses. It was him that gave it to me originally and told me never to take it off so as not to disturb the clients. He’d never asked for it before. Why did he want it now?

  Instead of answering he pulled his gun out of the back of his pants and laid it on the washing machines next to him. His expectations were clear. He wasn’t going to ask again.

  My worried gaze drifted to the floor as I began to unwrap the fabric. The air nipped at my newly exposed skin and my building nerves threatened to make my hands begin trembling. It wasn’t that I cared about exposing myself to him, not that I ever relished the idea. Years of being a whore stole that particular modesty from me, besides he intimately knew what my scars looked like.

  It was giving up my scarf that frightened me. I had so many mixed feelings about my scarf. It hid the only irrefutable evidence of what happened to me. It was a ball and chain, and to some degree my armor. For better or worse it isolated me from the other girls like a pariah enough that I could almost believe that I wasn’t one of them. It reminded me of the good I tried to do once upon a time and my biggest failure.

  I was only able to keep firm until I extended my arm offering the garment to Patrick. The hope that he might not find what was hidden in there drained from me like the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. My time had finally run out.

  He didn’t take it right away; instead he studied the marks on my neck. I swallowed hard under his stare, my eyes flitting back to the floor.

  When he snapped the scarf away I sucked in a sharp violent breath as if bracing myself for a punch. It took him almost no time at all to find the memory stick I’d sewn into my scarf and to tear the threading enough to pull it out.

  How? I was so, so careful! How did he find out?

  “What?” Did you think I wouldn’t know about this?” Patrick could easily read my dread and disbelief.

  What was the point of even trying to hide it now? My body shook with terrified little tremors. What was coming next would be far worse than any beating I’d ever received. The darkest part of me even looked forward to it. If he killed me then this would all at least end. Never a thought I would’ve had before coming to this place, before Patrick came into my life.

  God… I had changed so much since then.

  “Who do you think gave Monica the memory stick to give to you?” Patrick said. He exuded more confidence and control than anger at betrayal.

  “Why?” I mouthed the word, hot tears rolling down my cold cheeks.

  “I wasn’t stupid enough to think you weren’t going to try to escape, blackmail me or foolishly try to have me arrested again.” He chuckled darkly at the absurd thought, then pointed the memory stick at me accusingly. “Giving you this was a means to control your desperation, rage, idiotic hope that you could pull the wool over my eyes.”

  He took out a lighter and burned the memory stick in front of me then dropped it and stomped the melted wreckage with his boot utterly destroying years worth of research and evidence. It might as well have been my heart.

  “Kill me,” I signed.

  “There might be time for that later.” He laughed without a care in the world, then swept his hand toward the floor where the memory stick bits were. “You’ll soon see that this… This was a good thing. A very good thing. It shows me you’re not broken yet. You still want your freedom even after all this time. You’d do anything to get it.

  “Here.” He placed a cell phone on a countertop predominately used for folding clothes. “Familiarize yourself with the audio and video recording functionality.”

  I took the phone hesitantly, having no idea what to expect anymore. He’d never allowed me anything like this in the past. My mind raced with questions. Squeezing the side of the phone and waking it up I was met with a pin lock screen. I put the phone back down for him to unlock it but he made no motion to grab it.

  “The code is the first four digits of your brother’s birthday,” he said.

  Patrick studied me to see how I’d react. My heart sank at the mention of Jeffy. Anger began to smolder within me and at this point I didn’t care to hide it anymore. Why not? What did I really have to lose now?

  For the longest time I put up the façade that I was his broken, little slave. Nothing more. I needed him to think I was harmless then. But now that I’d been found out I realized he’d been playing me all this time, exploiting my emotions.

  “Your boyfriend will be here in ten minutes. For now you won’t take on any other clients or sit for any meetings. You’re his property at least until I say otherwise. Do what he says. Please his every need.”

  My boyfriend?

  Did he mean Wreck? I made no attempt to hide the outright confusion on my face. What the hell was going on?

  “For some twisted reason he’s taken a liking to you. Exploit that. Make him fall in love with you. I want him wrapped around your finger.” He took on a dismissive air about my betrayal and whatever this new game was that he was playing with me, then continued to type things out on his phone. He was always careful not to show me or anyone else what was on his screen so I could only guess what business could possibly be more important than this.

  His indifference made me feel so insignificant, like I was nothing.

  Then there was the nagging certainty that Patrick was always planning something that also worried me. My face twisted slightly. Despite how tough Wreck’s MC might have been I didn’t think they’d ever dealt with someone like Patrick before. They might see the ruthless, conniving, selfish, petty bastard Patrick was, but did they truly know just how dangerous he was?

  My stomach knotted at the very real possibility that Wreck and his crew might not m
ake it out of all this alive.

  “You are going to get me every shred of data on Wreck and his MC. What each member is like personally, what their plans are, and most importantly where they’re based out of.” Patrick gave me his full attention. “They’re no longer staying at motels with the exception of you and him at the Holiday Inn last night. I’ve sent people to follow them but they always seem to slip away.”

  He knew where we stayed last night? Part of me wasn’t that surprised. Patrick was the most paranoid person I’d ever met and with good reason. Having been intimately involved in his business dealings for so long I knew that I was far from the only enemy he had.

  Patrick took the phone from me, typed in Jeffy’s birthday to unlock it then started demonstrating the features he wanted me to use.

  “All your selfies with him will have GPS-assisted location tags so take as many as possible. When Wreck or his MC inevitably start talking about anything important push the button twice on the side. The screen will stay dark but the audio recording will turn on. Lastly there’s a note section that deletes after a message is sent or an incoming text is read, that’s how we’ll communicate. All social media apps, and emergency calling features have been disabled and I’ll get live updates of all your internet searches.” He narrowed his eyes and slapped it roughly into my hand. “Don’t lose this phone or let anyone else use it. Understand?”

  I nodded slowly, pulling my hand away from his.

  “You hate me,” he said abruptly, snatching my wrist and pulling me close to him. His breath smelled of bitter coffee and acrid sugars of pastry remnants. The dismissive tone he’d been using during this interaction became darker, quieter and somehow more intimate.

  I didn’t know how to answer that so I kept as neutral of an expression as possible despite being startled by the shift in his demeanor. I was used to almost business-like instructions from him, but this felt personal. It made me extremely uncomfortable. Frightened.

  “I know you do,” he said. The glasses’ magnification made his eyes appear unnaturally large despite them narrowing at me. He wanted me to fully understand that my life was at his whim. That he had all the power. Only after he was sure I took that as a stone-cold fact did he let go of me.

  I pulled back a step and rubbed my wrist.

  “It’s good that you hate me. You can’t hate something you don’t respect, or at least fear. That respect was something you had to learn the hard way.” He smiled, and I fought the urge to touch my suddenly itchy and hot neck. “How long has it been now that you’ve worked for me? I guess it doesn’t matter. Not really. It must feel like a lifetime.”

  “I’m sure you must have given thought to how all this ends. You and me. This…arrangement we have. Probably even more so now that I found your little memory stick.” Patrick walked around the room not heading anywhere in particular. He moved just to move, slowly pacing and thinking out loud. Finally he turned back to look at me.

  The intenseness of the words sent a shiver up my spine.

  “Do this and do it well. And that’s it. When this is all over and the MC is gone you’re free to go…” He paused, scratched his chin then continued. “Free to go home. I won’t need you anymore. Or them for that matter.”

  My eyes flared wide. I couldn’t keep the emotion and surprise from my face. Did I hear that right? Did he really mean that?

  I’d always thought one day I might slip away, sneak out of the country or at least head to one of the coasts and disappear. Even if I somehow managed to sneak out the evidence I’d been accumulating I didn’t think really think it would all end happily. Realistically I just assumed he’d eventually kill me.

  The hope at least was always that when I was gone he’d leave my family alone.

  Even in my wildest dreams I never thought I’d ever actually see my family again.

  “Them? My family?” I repeated his words through sign, not understanding what he meant by that cryptic remark.

  “Why do you think I married your mother? Do you think I love her or that little welp of a boy?” Patrick scoffed darkly. “You did that to me. You forced my hand.”

  Me? Startled, I took a step back and hip checked a washing machine hard.

  “You just had to stick your fucking nose into my business, didn’t you?” He folded his arms thoughtfully as he reflected back on the last ten years of his life. “I couldn’t let you ruin everything I was trying to build. But to my surprise you proved too useful to kill so I married your mother to keep everything and everyone in line. Call it a long term insurance policy.”

  You tried to kill me, I screamed at him in my mind, and when that didn’t work you made sure I’d never say another bad word against you for the rest of my life. As far as the rest of the world, and more importantly- my family, was concerned I had died in a drunk driving accident coming home from a party.

  “The sooner I’m rid of that brood the better,” he added.

  You won’t hurt them?” I signed slowly, still unsure how real this all was. Worrying about my family made my blood cool to the point of freezing. I was helpless to stop him from doing anything to them. Patrick had so many resources these days that he could make it look like they died in a car accident…just like me…

  “No, I won’t hurt them, you idiot. How would it help me to get the police involved in covering that up?” He scowled. “I would divorce her. Tie everything up all nice and legal and let her and her snot-nosed kid live out their tiny, unimportant lives in irrelevance.”

  This was the most he’d ever said to me outside of commands. Patrick expected blind obedience so he never felt the need to explain himself. I never really knew why he did any of the things he did. I thought it was just hate, some twisted way of getting back at me for trying to get him arrested.

  This was a lot to process.

  The low rumble of a distant engine growing louder pulled me out of deep thought. Wreck pulled up a minute later.

  “That’s enough family bonding. You know what I want, and you know what I’m prepared to offer you.” Patrick said, his demeanor sliding back into typical dismissiveness. After picking up the bits of the memory stick he threw the scarf onto a countertop near me. “Calm your emotions, put on a nice face and don’t disappoint me. He then made his way upstairs to his office, not wanting to be around when Wreck walked through the front doors.

  I nodded slowly in response despite Patrick not being around to see it, then carefully put my scarf back on as if nothing ever happened. I wiped my eyes and took several deep breaths so as not to show Wreck just how crazy it had been in here. I was confident I could hide my emotions from Wreck, after all I had years and years of practice. The last thing I wanted was for him to worry.

  Patrick was right. I knew what I had to do and as awful as it was, to be free, truly free, I was prepared to do it. I liked Wreck a lot more than I ever imagined I would, but compared to almost a decade of solitude and abuse, what did I really owe a man I’d just met?

  Patrick would give me my life back and all it would cost me is my soul.

  The bell behind the cashier counter rang a few minutes later as the door was pushed open. Wreck walked in with his hair down, riffled by the breeze and his rings glinting in the warm sunshine. He wore jeans, boots and his leather MC cut over a black t-shirt.

  “Goddamn, this place is depressing as shit.” He pulled off his sunglasses, and looked around the room before letting his dark eyes fall on me. “What say we get the hell out of here?”

  I tucked the phone Patrick gave me into my pocket and walked over to Wreck.

  “Patrick told me he was letting you off your leash.” Wreck’s voice was deep, and smooth like caramel or whiskey. “So now that you’re free what do you want to do today?”

  I took out the small pad I kept in my pocket and scribbled out a short note. A pang of guilt rang through me but I smiled through it and showed him what I wrote. “Whatever you want.”

  13

  Wreck

  “Wel
l, hell. That was better than it had any right to be,” I grunted, chewing and swallowing the last of my meat-soaked Kaiser roll. The spicy horseradish sauce made my nasal cavities crackle in a way I hadn’t felt since the last time we were all in Texas. “Pit beef sandwich, huh? I’ll have to let the guys know. What else is good around here?”

  To say that this place was a hole in the wall was giving it more credit than it deserved. The building, if you could call it that, looked like it was once a large tool shed someone converted into a food stand. There were no signs aside from the words Hot Food painted on a piece of plywood on the ground leaning against the front wall. I had no idea what the name of the place was, but it didn’t matter. The Hot Food they served was fucking delicious!

  Sarah held up a finger as she took a few big gulps of milk. Her eyes watered from the spicy meal, but she was able to blink most of the tears away before they ran down her face. After steadying herself with a few deep breaths she started scribbling down a bunch of local favorites.

  I watched her write admiring the way her brown hair framed her light skin. She was a beautiful girl on the worst of days, but she had this glow about her whenever she let her guard down and focused on a task she enjoyed. Watching her draw was my favorite, but seeing her engrossed in writing out all the local hotspots was nice too. She’d scribble furiously then pause and scrunch up her face as the name or location of a place eluded her only to eventually remember and light up again and start writing.

  Her hand slowed to a crawl as she eventually realized I was staring at her and looked up shyly. “What,” she flipped to the back of the pad and pointed to one of her already written and most used words.

  “Nothing,” I lied staring at her, a cracked smile creasing half my face. Standing up from the barstool I stood over her letting my gaze linger, taking her in. How small she was, delicate, but so incredibly strong. I brushed my thumb across her lips and rubbed off some spicy sauce off the corner of her mouth that she missed. Sucking my thumb I caught that familiar heat that would now always remind me of her. She immediately wiped her mouth with a napkin. Sarah wilted, embarrassed, letting her chin drop shyly.