by Skyla Madi
I blink repeatedly, clearing away the blur that has covered my eyes. My heart pounds in my ears.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Yes, I do.
My opponent is on the other side of the circle, chatting to friends with all of the confidence in the world, like he knows he’s already won. I force myself to my feet, ignoring the ring of leather and denim-clad assholes that yell at me. If I lose, what happens? That’s a risk I can’t take.
Growling, I clench my fist and launch forward, swinging with brute force. My opponent, Curtis, barely has time to turn around, and I slam my fist into the side of his face, tossing him out of the circle and into his group. They catch him and howl with laughter. He stepped out of the circle. I win.
I gasp for air and hunch forward, planting my hands on my knee. Is that it? Surely, that’s it.
In the distance, Joker shouts, and another man steps into the circle. He’s bigger than the last. I groan, straightening my posture and lifting my fists.
He swallows the distance before I have time to react and knocks me to the ground; he wraps his arms tightly around my waist and digs his shoulder into my stomach. Grunting, I grab his head and pull it in close. He swears under his breath and flicks his leg over my hip, straddling me. I flick my hips and release his head, throwing him off of me. Adrenaline pumps through my body, and it’s enough to get me going again. I scramble on my hands and knees until I have enough space to push myself back to my feet.
“You gotta do better than that if you want in, Stone,” my opponent sneers. “If you can’t put me to sleep, you can’t join.”
Put him to sleep? I’m half dead! How the hell am I going to put him to sleep? He dives at me again, and I dip low, dodging the gigantic fist he attempts to slam into my head. Growling, I hit him in his ribs, forcefully expelling the air from his lungs. He recoils, clenching his body. That’s when I notice the lazy smile on his face, the light sheen of sweat above his lip, and the slight sway in his step. He’s drunk. Just my luck.
“It’s afternoon somewhere, right?” I say.
He grins. “I could be completely wasted and I’d still flatten you.”
Gritting my teeth, I dive at him. He swings hard, clipping me on the jaw. It throws me, but I recover quickly, slamming my fist into his ribs. I work his sides over and over until he can no longer absorb my punches. He grabs at me, trying to clench me, but I shove him back before he can get a good grip on my shirt. Releasing me, he stumbles backwards, and I kick his ankle out from underneath him. He crashes to the concrete, and I dive on top of him. Clenching my teeth until my jaw aches, I drive my fists into his face relentlessly until he completely gives up on defending himself. With a pathetic squeak, he lifts his hands to shield his face, but I smash through them. When his eyes are swollen shut and his nose no longer has shape, I climb off of him, grab him by the scruff, and drag him out of the circle. I dump him there and turn to Joker and Crow, who watch from the top of their bar. If they send out someone else, I’ll kill everyone in this fucking room.
Crow mutters to Joker before dropping off the edge of the bar and disappearing down the hall. Joker smiles at me, his thin lips pulling tightly.
“Welcome to the fray, brother.”
Six
Emily
Almost Free
I wrap the sheets around each other one last time and tighten the knot. Exhaling, I wipe the sweat off of my forehead. Skull has been gone for an hour, and he’s locked me inside the room. I don’t know how much time I have left, but it can’t be long.
I push myself to my feet and reach for the toilet. Holding my breath, I knock the seat down and climb onto it.
Skull might’ve locked every other window in the room, but the small one high above the toilet remains unlocked.
I smooth my hand down the pair of black leggings that I found in the third drawer of the massive walk-in wardrobe. It was clear to me that they belong to a female not much different in size than I am. Maybe they belong to the girl that was here last night.
I put the edge of my makeshift rope in my mouth and plant my bare foot on the top of the toilet. Carefully, I stretch up and grab onto the ledge. I pause for a second, a desperate―and failed―attempt at calming my nerves. What if I fall? I shake my head. I’m not going to let a thought like that stop me from getting out of here. If I fall, I fall. At least I tried.
Holding myself up, I shove the sheets I tied together out the window until most of them are gone. With what’s remaining, I tie it around the toilet seat and around the base. I don’t need the sheets to hold my weight for long, just until I reach the next ledge or, preferably the ground. What am I going to do once I’m out? Well, I don’t know much about Skull’s compound, but there has to be a place for me to slip out somewhere. If there’s not, I’ll make one.
I grab the ledge of the windowsill again, this time with both hands. Before I climbed up here, before I even made my rope, I thought about how I could get out without falling face first to my death. I figured if I get on top of the toilet, grab onto the shower frame, stuff my legs out the window and go down backwards it should be as easy as pie. But now, as I grip onto the shower frame and have both my legs out the tight window, I realize it’s easier said than done.
Gasping, I shimmy back, until the kink in the sill digs into my hips. I kick my legs and they tap against the wall. I swing them, shake them, until I feel the blanket rope. Somehow, I twist my ankle and wrap it around the blanket, using it as a step.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. My lungs fill up, empty themselves, and then fill up again, much too quickly for me to properly catch my breath. My heart is light in my chest, like it’s filled with helium, as I hang out of the window. Holding my breath, I wiggle further out until one foot wrapped in a blanket is all that’s supporting my weight. Straining, the blanket rope stretches and creaks as the fabric is tested.
I glance down at the ground. It seems like it’s miles away. If I fall now, I’m definitely going to break something.
“Don’t look down, you idiot,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut.
The muscles in my forearms and biceps tremor; my core burns as I slowly lower myself down the blanket. The white concrete walls of Skull’s compound scratch the skin off my knees, and it fucking hurts, but I keep going. I put my whole faith in the dodgy rope I made as I pass the window of the first floor…and lose it all on the next shuffle. As I move over the red knot and onto the white, the fabric tears. Where it tears exactly, I don’t know; and it’s the last thing on my mind as my organs are forced into my throat while I fall. I squeal, a natural reaction, before slamming into the ground, back first. Air is forced from my lungs, and my head hits hard, shooting pain over my skull. It throbs relentlessly and all I can do is clench my ribs and wait for my diaphragm to stop spasming.
After a minute―that feels more like an eternity―has passed, I roll onto my side. By some miracle, nothing feels broken. Then again, adrenaline is still tearing through my veins. Once it wears off, I’m sure I’ll be singing a different tune.
Grunting, I push myself to my feet and hobble close to the house, sticking to its walls. My best chance at an escape is to go through the backyard and out into the forest. Since Jai wasn’t at the lake house, maybe he’s waiting for me at the spot I last saw him.
I press my back against the concrete wall and move swiftly to the edge. I peer around the corner, and twenty yards ahead is Skull’s pool. The workers that were there repairing the tiles earlier are nowhere to be seen. They’re probably on lunch.
I take my chances and step out from behind the wall, then pause.
Silence.
Nothing but the rapid thrum of my heart.
I push my hobble into a walk, my walk into a jog, my jog into a sprint. I run without care, without caution, desperate to get as far away from Skull as I possibly can.
BANG!
I scream and duck as a bullet whips by my head. My skin buzzes as the atmosphere crackles with danger
and hostility. Panting, I dive behind a broken stone and pull my knees into my chest.
“Get Skull! Now!”
Oh, fuck no. I scramble out from behind the stone and run like my life depends on it. I guess it does.
Another bang, another bullet. I duck and dodge, but I don’t stop.
“Don’t shoot her, you fucking idiot!” an unknown curses.
I run alongside the pool.
BANG!
I hear the sound of the bullet passing through flesh before I feel the pain of it. I scream, and my leg seizes up, making me lose my balance. I stumble, trying to clench my thigh, and trip over a loose tile. My heart sinks the second I’m weightless, and it remains sunk, throbbing in the bullet hole in my thigh as I crash into the recently filled pool.
I hold my breath and purse my lips as I kick my legs. Clenching my jaw, I stop. Bubbles escape my lips with a sob. I can’t kick my legs. It hurts too much.
Already, I find myself running out of oxygen. Normally, I’d boast about my epic breath holding times, but my lungs are still too jaded to try.
No one jumps in after me…
Is this my end? Is this how I’m supposed to die? Drowning like a meaningless penny at the bottom of a pool? It’s better than being another rape and murder statistic in Skull’s file, I suppose. In the blissful silence of the water, I can finally gather my thoughts. My lackluster life turned out pretty damn exciting, you know. I think of Jai and, despite myself, despite my predicament, I actually smile.
Seven
Jai
Time
*Days later*
If I have to sit through one more party I will slaughter everyone in this damn house. How many more days are going to pass by before Joker helps me like he promised?
I lift my sixth bottle of beer to my lips and tip it down the hatch, finishing the last mouthful. Joker claims there are more important matters for the club to deal with before they attack Skull.
Bullshit. I don’t give a shit about the club or their problems. I’m here to help myself.
“Hey, handsome.”
I turn my head as a leggy blonde settles on my left, resting a petite elbow on my table. I glance at her Ferrari red nail polish and the gold bracelet on her wrist. Already I know she isn’t my type.
“Need company?”
“No, thanks.” I don’t look at her face…or at least I don’t until she chuckles at me. “Are you always the life of the party?”
Sarcasm. I simper. Cute. “Apparently so.”
She smiles, exposing her perfect, white teeth. Swiping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, she extends her hand. “I’m Holly.”
She’s nice enough, I suppose. Exhaling, I put my hand in hers. “Jai.”
“Ah, the new recruit.” Holly’s leather vest squeaks as she leans forward. “Word going around is…you’re not playing nice with your new brothers and sisters.”
Brothers and sisters? Nah. These assholes aren’t family. They haven’t earned it. I pluck the metal cap of my beer between my thumb and index finger. “Is that so?”
“Mm.” She grins. “Me? I don’t mind it so much. I like a mean boy.”
I laugh. She’s wasting her time hitting on me. Sure, she’s pretty with her large green eyes, sassy smile, and killer rack, but she is barking up the wrong tree.
“I prefer brunettes,” I tell her, flicking the cap off the table.
She shrugs. “So we turn the lights off.”
At least she gets points for trying. “Perhaps I wasn’t specific enough. I’m into a brunette. One in particular.”
“Let me guess, it’s the Emily I’ve been hearing so much about.”
The sound of Emily’s name sobers me. What the fuck am I doing here? Why haven’t I got her back yet? “Yeah. Emily. That’s the one.”
Holly leans in close, her long, blonde locks spilling onto the table. “You know, I spent a short amount of time with Skull once.”
Consider my interest piqued. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods. “He fucked me so good I still felt the aftershocks the next day. Chances are, he’s fucking Emily too. While you sit here sad and alone, I can almost guarantee that she isn’t thinking of you. Not one bit.”
I frown as Holly’s words sink like stones to the pit of my stomach. I want to cut her tongue out of her mouth. I clench my jaw as mental images of Skull and Emily assault my brain. If Skull lays a finger on her while I’m sitting here wasting time, Joker will pay with his life. All of these fuckers will pay with their lives.
“What’s your problem?” I snap, knocking over my empty beer bottle.
Close bystanders pause their conversation to snoop in on the drama. I peer over Holly’s shoulder to see Joel closing the distance, his face pinched in concern. He’s been on me for days, shutting down my temper whenever I get too heated. We’re in the middle of a hornet’s nest, he’d say. Simmer down before they put a bullet in your skull. His calming technique is doing more harm than good. Second by second, minute by minute, day by day, my anger piles up, and soon someone is going to pay the price.
Her thin red lips pull up at the corners. “What’s my problem?”
“That’s what I asked.”
“I don’t have a problem.”
I hate her impish smile and dark, glistening eyes. I hate the way she stands, like she knows I’m going to sleep with her. Confidence is sexy, but it has an ugly twin and her name is Arrogance. On occasion, like now, Arrogance likes to dress up and call herself Confidence, but she rarely fools anyone.
“I think you have a big fucking problem,” I tell her.
“Hey,” Joel cheers, sliding onto the wooden stool on my right. He places his glass of bourbon down on the table and lowers his arm, leaving room for Monique to slip onto his lap. She also sets a glass of bourbon on the table. “What’s going on?”
“I think your brother is a closet homo,” Holly states simply.
I scoff, shaking my head. Hilarious.
“Maybe your basic ass just doesn’t measure up to his standards, sweetheart.” Quirking a brow, I turn to Monique, who glares at Holly, her soft pink lips pursed into a thin line.
Joel curses under his breath and grabs his drink.
“And who the hell are you?”
Monique leans her elbow on the table, pinning Holly with her angry glare. “I’m the girl who’s gonna stomp you out if you keep talking shit.”
Holly laughs as she pulls herself off of the table and straightens her spine. “I’d drag your weak ass over this table and punch you in your pretty face if I didn’t have this moral thing about hitting children.”
Monique smiles. “Or maybe you’re scared you’re going to get your ass handed to you.”
Holly chuckles and turns her body in my direction. Exhaling, she presses a finger to my bicep and drags it up along my shoulder. “When you’re done playing with little girls, I’ll be in the corner, hanging with the grown women.”
With an arrogant sway, Holly saunters from the table and melts into the crowd. Good riddance. I turn toward Monique, who totally had my back just now.
“Who are you?” I ask incredulously, making her laugh.
“She’s not just a pretty face,” Joel points out, sitting back on his stool. “She runs her mouth more than you do.”
Monique rolls her eyes. Obviously, he doesn’t approve of her smart mouth, which makes their union all the more baffling. There are three attributes Joel looks for in a woman, ones that he holds above all others.
Intelligence.
Loyalty.
Obedience.
You know, the same attributes you look for in a dog. I roll my eyes. It’s almost comical that he’s fallen in love with a girl like Monique—a girl I’ve obviously misread.
I grab Monique’s glass and slam back her bourbon and Coke.
“Thanks,” I tell her, setting the glass on the table. “Maybe Papa Joel will let you stay up past your bedtime tonight for being a good girl.”
She flips me off
. “Fuck you, Jai.”
I laugh as I turn and slip off of my stool. I like her.
“Where are you going?” Joel shouts from behind me.
I wave him off. “To see Joker.”
I squeeze between bikers wearing leather and tables dripping in booze. I smooth my hands over my black Twisted Sons hoodie as I step out of the common area and onto the long porch.
It’s dark outside. The moon is hidden by dense clouds, and if it weren’t for the hanging lanterns every ten feet, I wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing.
Last I saw, Joker was around the corner having a private conversation with Crow. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me dropping by to ask him what’s up. If he gives me another piss poor excuse though, we’re going to have problems.
Behind me, Joel barrels out of the house, alone, his hoodie and black jeans matching mine. “You can’t keep harassing, Joker, Jai,” he warns, and I stop, sighing dramatically as I turn around.
Joel bends low to tie up the lace of his boots.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s going to lose it.”
“I don’t care. He promised he’d help me get her back, Joel.”
He stands up. “I know he did.”
“Then why the fuck are we still here?”
“He might need more time.”
“We don’t have time,” I bite out in a harsh whisper. “Emily doesn’t have time.”
“Now that you’ve sold your soul to him, we don’t have a choice but to wait.”
I flinch. Sold my soul? Is that how deep he thinks I am in Joker’s game? These people mean nothing to me. They don’t own me; they don’t control me. As soon as I get what I want, I’m out of this country, and Joker won’t be able to touch me.
“Look,” Joel exhales. “Talk to Joker if you want. Just don’t get us killed, all right?”
He whirls on his heel and re-enters the house. I sigh. What am I doing?
“I had a brother once.” I startle at the sound of Joker’s voice as it penetrates my skin. I drag fresh, crisp air in through my nose and hold it in my lungs as I slowly turn around. Joker leans against a thick, wooden pole, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. “I absorbed him in the womb…apparently.”