The Ties That Bind 1

by D. A. Young

  “Dios!”

  Angrily she removed the now burnt pieces of pork from the cast-iron skillet and transferred them to a plate covered with paper towels. Claudia surveyed them with a scowl. Now, she’d have to start over because she couldn’t very well serve Slade a meal that wasn’t perfect.

  “Shit, Claudia, you didn’t fuck up breakfast, did you?”

  The complaint was issued in a voice rough from years of a pack-a-day habit. She looked up to find her husband of twenty-five years standing in the doorway. He was wearing a white tank top and a pair of worn Levi’s, stroking his chest-length beard. Even though it wasn’t even ten in the morning, he held a beer bottle in his beefy hand and a cigarette dangled from his lips.

  “I was looking forward to grubbing down after last night.”

  As always, her heart swelled with love for her man, and she smiled at Slade lovingly. At the age of forty-four, he was still a fine-looking man. Where she and the boys were dark-haired with green eyes, Slade was a representation of his Scandinavian ancestors with his blonde hair, now heavily lined with silver and fjord-blue eyes.

  “Relax, mi esposo. I’m cooking more. Have a seat,” Claudia purred, blowing him a kiss and gesturing toward the bar-high counter top. “Bout time you woke up, old man.”

  “Thanks, babe. Man, that barbecue gets better every year!” Slade removed the cigarette from his lips as he approached the table, yawning loudly. It was accompanied by a wide stretch of his big, barrel arms that caused his tank to lift, exposing his six-pack. “I could barely get my ass outta bed this morning. The boys get back okay?”

  With a smile, Claudia glanced over her shoulder, intending to tease him about his age. She froze at the shape of the garish neon pink marks on his navel. They were a direct threat to all she held sacred. Lipstick kisses but not given by her. She only wore Revlon’s “Fire Engine Red”. Claudia’s heart belly-flopped painfully with the incriminating evidence that Slade was up to his old tricks again.

  Why couldn’t her love for him ever be enough? Had she not proven herself more than worthy of his love? Claudia’s pain was replaced by the rage that quickly overtook her body, not just at him but herself as well. How much more could her corazón endure? That was all she worried about now. Fuck her pride; it was long gone where Slade was concerned.

  Damn him to hell.

  She was a good woman.

  Because of their lifestyle, she worked harder to be an excellent wife and mother, not just for their family but also for all the motherfuckers in the club. Through Slade, they were her familia. Against her parents’ wishes, she’d married the biker because he was what her corazón wanted above all else. The days of being a good God-fearing girl were now memories as she beat bitches back over her man.

  “Babe, is breakfast comin’ or what?” Slade barked. He leaned over the bar counter and flicked his cigarette ashes into the sink, a habit he knew she detested. “I don’t want to eat none of that burnt shit, Claudia! And why the hell is this racket always on? He can’t sing worth a damn. Sounds like his balls haven’t dropped yet,” he joked, unaware of the perilous storm brewing within his woman.

  She barely heard him over the pressure thundering in her ears. Claudia clenched the spatula tightly in her fist and turned back around, staring blindly at the hot grease in the skillet. Dimly, she could hear him calling to her as the liquid turned hotter and the acrid, smoky stench pervaded the air. Her eyes drifted to her left hand. Instead of the rock on her finger, Claudia was focused on the thin, jagged white scar running diagonally across the back of it. A self-defense wound from one of Slade’s putas. She was so fucking tired of his disrespectful ass.

  A lesson needed to be administered.

  One Slade would not soon forget.

  “Claudia!”

  The irate shouting of her name triggered Claudia, and she succumbed to her volatile emotions. Grabbing the handle of the hot skillet, she spun around and flung its contents directly at Slade.

  Ransom lit a cigarette on his way to the barracks, where most of the single members and prospects stayed. It had suited his needs between breaks from college, but lately, he’d been thinking of getting his own space. As much as he loved his brothers, listening to them beating up pussy all night got old, real quick.

  He could hear noises coming from an open window on the second floor that he knew to be his brother’s room. They were easily identified as bedsprings squeaking vigorously.

  “Stop! Please! I can’t take anymore! Leave me alone!” an unfamiliar female voice begged.

  Her shrill screams were accompanied by malicious, male laughter. The high-pitched frenzied yowls made the hair on Ransom’s arms stand up and his protective instincts kicked in.

  “This motherfucker!” he muttered furiously, realizing that it was Harley’s. Only he wasn’t alone with the girl.

  “Tell her just like I told you!” Harley ordered. “Let her know who’s in charge!”

  “Open up wider! Bite me and you won’t make it out of this room alive, cunt.”

  Ransom frowned at that unrecognizable voice. Was it Pitch? Suddenly, he remembered that asshole was out of town for his grandmother’s funeral. Then who the fuck was that? The unmistakable sounds of someone in pain were suddenly muffled as the rhythmic tempo of the bedsprings increased. He threw his smoke down, ground it out with his boot, and rushed into the building. Ransom took the stairs, two at a time, to the second floor and ran down the hallway to the last door on the left. He stormed through it in time to see his identical twin brother pull his dick out of some girl and ejaculate all over her back with an animalistic grunt.

  Harley stretched before falling back on the bed with a satisfied yawn. “Whooooo, baby!”

  A prospect by the name of Digger, who was barely legal, held the girl in place by a handful of her red hair while he continued to happily thrust his cock into her mouth. His small, thin body jerked and stiffened before he abruptly pulled out. Grabbing his dick, he sprayed her face with his release. Digger threw himself on the other side of her, effectively trapping her between them. Neither he nor Harley showed an inkling of concern for the girl.

  Ransom’s stomach coiled in revulsion as he considered her predicament. He’d never set eyes on her before this moment. Too scared to move, she stayed on her hands and knees submissively, her bedraggled, titan curls limp around her bowed head. Tremors racked her pale body as she silently cried. Slowly, she raised her head and through her hair, Ransom could make out the terror in her exhausted blue eyes as she wiped her face clean with a shaking hand. They were pleading for him to be her savior.

  His gaze fell to the floor, landing on an expensive leather handbag and equally nice shoes. Alongside it was an emerald green silk dress. The outfit screamed money. Fuck. She wasn’t a biker groupie looking for a thrill, and this wasn’t some role-playing bullshit. The room reeked of sex and weed. Ransom suspected they’d been going at it for a while now.

  “The fuck Harley?!” He pointed a finger at Digger and roared, “You! Get the fuck out! Now!”

  Under Ransom’s fury, the prospect fell out of bed and scrambled to his feet. Head hung with shame, Digger grabbed his clothes and hauled it toward the door.

  Ransom grabbed him as he attempted to pass and slammed him like a ragdoll against the wall. Digger’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He winced as Ransom forcibly repeated the action.

  “If you wanna live to get patched in, I better not find you in some shit like this again! Am. I. Clear?!” he snarled, pressing his forehead against the prospect’s. This close up, he could see the kid’s jittery pupils and knew he was on something stronger than weed.

  “Y-y-yessir!” Digger stuttered. Not satisfied with the answer by a longshot, Ransom grabbed him by his hair and flung him at the door.

  Laughing maniacally, Harley watched as he stumbled out the door. He slapped the naked girl across the ass, and she finally collapsed. Despite or because of his victim’s apparent pain and discomfort, Harley’s green eyes sho
ne with excitement.

  “Chill, brother! You’re looking at our newest house mouse. Janet, this is my brother Ransom. You see to his every need! Got it, bitch?”

  The last part was said in a tone so sinister that the she shrank into the mattress as if trying to make herself invisible.

  He snorted with disgust at her discomfort and confronted Ransom belligerently. “Since when do we just bust into each other’s space like that, little brother? You want a shot at her then you need to wait your turn.”

  “You and I both know that if I saw something I wanted, I’d take it, and there wouldn’t be shit you could do about it,” Ransom challenged him.

  Harley cut his eyes at his twin and grabbed a small pink garment from the floor. He used it to wipe his bare cock clean. Once done, he tossed it at the back of the girl’s head before getting off the bed and pulling his boxers and jeans up.

  Ransom shook his head, marveling in disbelief at his brother’s stupidity. “Harley, you gotta wrap your dick up! Don’t you know you can catch all kinds of shit going bareback?! You think you can’t get AIDS, HIV, or some other STD if you don’t use protection? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  His concerns fell on deaf ears when Harley waved him off. He put a clean white tank on and his cut over it. “Relax, brother. The bitch was a virgin. She ain’t got nothin’. But if she lied…”

  Ransom forced himself not to react when Harley snatched his gun up from the nightstand and yanked the girl up by her hair, putting the weapon to her temple. Ransom knew his brother well enough to know that Harley lived for an audience. Indifference would make him lose interest and soon he would be off looking for his next fucked up adventure.

  ‘Red’ tried to jerk away, tears streaming down her face, but his hold tightened spitefully. “You were my first! I’m clean, Harley! I swear to God!”

  Ransom took in her body, equipped with decent tits, wide hips, and lastly, her slim thighs that were smeared with dried blood on the inside. Her torso was covered with bite marks, and hand-shaped bruises marred her thighs and throat. She’d been worked over thoroughly. Ransom didn’t even want to think about what else happened in this room while he was laid up in Tawny’s pussy all night.

  “Let her go, Harley. We got church in less than an hour, so grab yourself something to eat,” Ransom reminded him coolly, striving for indifference.

  “Well, shit, why didn’t you say that, brother?” Harley shoved her aside, reholstered his weapon, and headed for the door. “Can’t keep our almighty Prez waiting,” he added sarcastically. “See ya, Janet! Keep that pussy tight for me and the boys. Get plenty of rest, too. Once they hear what you’ve got between them thighs, you’ll be getting no rest tonight.”

  Whistling cheerfully, he left without a backward glance, missing the loathing on Ransom’s face.

  Harley was getting more and more out of control.

  Behind him, the girl mumbled something unintelligible. Ransom faced her, watching dispassionately as she tried to dress herself. She held up the now soiled, crumpled pink garment that Harley had used and began crying in earnest. Head hanging with despair, ‘Red’ debated putting the panties back on. In the end, she tossed them back on the floor.

  “What was that?”

  “I said my name is Angela!” she shouted bitterly, lifting her head to glare defiantly at him. “Bastard couldn’t even get it right.”

  “How old are you, Angela? And where are you from?” Ransom questioned, pivoting away to give her privacy. “We don’t get plenty of girls with your hair color around here. I would have noticed a redhead before.”

  “I’m twenty. My sister, cousin, and I were passing through, returning from a wedding in Louisiana. We stopped in Albuquerque last night. They’re probably losing their minds wondering where I am!”

  Ransom’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline. “So, what are you doing here? You’re about twenty-five miles south of there.”

  “I-I-I met Harley when we hit town yesterday evening. We had a few drinks at a bar and one thing led to another. He was so charming and sweet that when he invited me back to his place, I didn’t think twice about it and accepted. I was just looking to blow off steam before heading home. I don’t know what kind of girl he was expecting, but I never agreed to audition for any position!”

  She definitely got more than she bargained for, Ransom thought, wishing he could un-see the image of Digger’s jizz exploding on her face. There was a rustling of clothes and he heard her moving around.

  “I’m decent now.”

  Ransom looked heavenward, silently cursing himself for what he was about to do, knowing that he should stay out of it. Except, he no longer had a choice. He rotated back around to find her applying makeup of all things.

  “Listen to me!”

  Angela stilled at his harsh command, her heart paralyzed with fear at his swift approach. Oh God, she’d made another mistake. She’d underestimated the lack of hostility in his eyes as being friendly.

  Would she never learn???

  Last night had started out with great promise and she’d found it hard to believe that someone as gorgeous as Harley was interested in her. He’d said all the right things to get her to go with him. Angela could blame no one but herself for getting sloppy drunk and leaving with him. Gripping Harley tightly around the waist, she’d ridden with him, likening herself to a romance novel heroine. They’d kissed and stumbled up the stairs to his room where he shut the door and locked it. Then right before her eyes, Harley had transformed into a sadistically evil monster. Her sex and nipples still stung painfully from the way he’d bitten them. But her suffering hadn’t stopped him from taking her repeatedly and then inviting his friend to join in. Her terrified screams only made him more insatiable.

  Harley got off on her pain.

  Quickly, she rolled to the other side of the bed, distancing herself. Angela picked up the empty beer bottle on the nightstand and shook it threateningly. “Stay away from me! If you touch me, I’ll—”

  She halted when Ransom drew his gun on her with a bored expression. A feeling of hopelessness came over her. They both knew that if he wanted to have his way with her, there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Are you finished, sweetheart?” he asked politely. Numbly, she nodded and he surprised Angela by reholstering his weapon.

  “Good; now get your shit and be quick about it! My name’s Ransom, and I’m going to take you back to your family. Then y’all are gonna get the fuck out of New Mexico. You don’t say shit to anyone about this to anyone. Got it?”

  Instead of answering him, Angela hastened to get her shoes on and grabbed her purse. “I’m ready!”

  Ransom exited the room without responding. Angela quickly followed him down the hallway, limping and wincing along the way. Every move she made was a reminder of the torture Harley had inflicted on her body. Once outside, she glanced around fearfully, expecting that devil to jump out at her and drag her back to hell. When that didn’t occur, Angela kept her head lowered and cautiously tried to observe her surroundings. It was a compound of sorts, surrounded by a tall concrete wall with a tower from which two guards stood lookout.

  A large, one-story building was in the middle of the compound. On opposite sides of it, two smaller dwellings. Parked in double rows in front of the main building and looping around one side were various makes, colors, and models of motorcycles, their hardware and chrome gleaming under the sun’s morning glare. There were several more structures like the one they’d just exited along with rows of trailer homes. A few kids ran around, playing in the clay-dirt roads. Scattered around were women conversing. They seemed to be divided into two groups. Some were skimpily dressed and the others more modestly attired and wearing leather vests. Like oil and water, the two didn’t mix and seemed to be giving each other a wide berth. Angela shifted her head away when everyone turned to stare at them.

  “What is this place?”

  “This is home sweet home, doll,” Ransom answere
d sardonically.

  Ignoring the stares, he headed for his baby, a black Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail with silver and white flame detailing along the sides. Tension was mounting at his decision to usurp his brother, triggering guilt and a headache, except, Ransom couldn’t bring himself to give a shit anymore. Wrong was flat out fucking wrong when it came to hurting women. Some bitches liked that shit, but when they said no, it meant motherfucking no. What happened to this girl didn’t sit well with him at all. That his brother was behind it really fucked with Ransom’s psyche.

  He grabbed his black lid and strapped it on. Then he grabbed another helmet from the bike next to his. Ransom tossed it to Angela, but recognizing it, she stepped back with a hostile expression. It hit the dirt between them with a soft thud.

  “That’s your brother’s. I won’t wear it,” she informed him staunchly, rubbing the back of her neck and pressing a hand to her stomach. The thought of associating with anything of Harley’s made her nauseous. “I-I trust you to get us there in one piece.”

  Exhaling on a harsh breath, Ransom swung his leg over the bike seat, settled in, and put his black sunglasses on.

  “Put it on. Maybe you want to play roulette with your life, but I’m not interested in anyone being an organ donor on my watch! If you don’t, then you don’t ride. Look, Angela, I got a ton of shit to do today. Babysitting you ain’t one of them,” Ransom informed her impatiently.

  He gripped his handlebars and kicked the stand up. “If you choose not to wear it, I’ll be on my way, and you’ll be meeting the rest of your potential bedmates…all one hundred of ‘em.”

  Ransom hated the way her face drained of color, making her eyes appear huge with horror. However, it was crucial she understood what her immediate future was looking like. “You ever seen what a bitch that’s been ridden all night looks like?”

  Angela pressed her lips together and refused to answer as her eyes welled with crocodile tears. Ignoring them, Ransom cruelly continued, “She’s so far gone that she don’t know whether she’s comin’ or goin’, but that don’t mean the ride stops. There’s no reprieve. You could be plugged full, taking three brothers at once. Or maybe you secretly liked what Harley and Digger were giving you? It makes no difference to me what you choose to do…”