by L. Wilder
I would be coming for them, and when I found them, I would bring my wrath of vengeance like they’d never seen before.
Remington
It felt like I was swimming in a deep fog. I had this gnawing sense that I should wake up, that something was terribly wrong. I needed to wake up, but the haze of my slumber weighed down on me, making it impossible to reach the surface. I could actually feel my body trembling, which only made my throbbing headache that much worse, and if that wasn’t enough, it hurt to breathe. The pain in my side felt like a thousand knives were jabbing me all at once, making me wonder if it’d be better to just give in to the pain. I heard my long, tortured groan echo throughout the room, soon followed by the faint sound of footsteps coming in my direction. When I felt someone’s hand on my head, I panicked and forced my one eye open.
My vision was somewhat blurry, but I could tell that it was a man standing next to me. He was tall, broad, and muscular with shaggy dark hair and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I was certain I’d seen him before. He was there the night Madeline and I had gone to look for Chuck, her ex-boyfriend, at some strip club. I was so enamored with him that night. He’d rescued me from the jerk who wouldn’t leave me alone, and … oh God, I loved the way he looked at me like he wanted claim me—body and soul. I had no doubt he was the same man, but something was different about him now. I don’t know if it was the leather vest he wore or the fierce expression on his face, but it made me feel uneasy. I was gazing in his direction and mumbled, “It’s you.”
“You remember, huh?”
I nodded. My heart started racing so fast I thought it might explode in my chest. “Where am I?”
“Don’t worry about that right now. Just know that you’re okay.”
Everything in me screamed to either run or prepare to fight, but I couldn’t move. Every inch of my body was in excruciating pain. I quickly glanced around the room, noting that I was in a strange place I’d never seen before. It was some kind of make-shift hospital room filled with medical equipment, which entirely freaked me out. “Did you do this to me?”
“Fuck, no,” he growled, startling me even more. “I’d never do something like this.”
“I want to go home.”
“I know you’re scared, but you’re okay.” He ran his hand gently over my head. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
I tried to concentrate and remember what had happened to me, but it was all a blur. I had no idea how I’d gotten hurt or how I’d ended up in this room with him, and I certainly didn’t know why I was there. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No,” he scoffed. “Wouldn’t have taken the time to patch you up if we were going to kill you.”
Every word seemed to come slowly like I was forcing them out of my mouth. “Then, what am I doing here?”
“I was hoping you could help me figure that out.” He removed his hand from my head and took a step back. “You got a name?”
“Remington. Remington Taylor.”
“Okay, Remington.” He crossed his arms as he looked down at me with a fierce expression, sending a cold chill along my spine. “Can you tell me how you ended up in our club’s dumpster last night?”
“What?” Surprised by his question, I inhaled a quick breath, causing me to wince as I answered, “I d-don’t...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were attacked last night.” The intense look in his eyes only grew when he said, “I was hoping you could tell me who’d done this to you.”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. Everything’s so...” My eyes were burning and I was exhausted. I tried to remember what had happened to me, but nothing was coming to mind. Not that it mattered. I didn’t want to know how I’d been hurt or who’d done it. I was in too much pain to even think about it. All I wanted was to curl up into a ball and wait for someone to come and save me. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. Lying here completely alone, no one had a clue as to where I was—not even me. I tried to sit up, and a choked cry forced its way up my throat. I dropped my head back on the pillow and groaned, “I just want to go home. Please just let me go.”
“Why? So they can finish what they started?” His tone was harsh and unforgiving as he spat, “I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to stay here for a while. It’s the only way we can keep you safe.”
“None of this makes any sense.”
“Well, let me explain it to ya. If the people who hurt you...the ones who stabbed you twice and left you for dead in that fucking dumpster find out that you’re alive, they’ll do whatever it takes to hunt you down.” His expression softened as he added, “So, there’s no headin’ home for you, at least not until we know what the fuck is going on.”
If I could simply pull the sheet over my head and close my eyes, then maybe I’d wake up from this nightmare, and it’d all be over. Knowing that wasn’t going to happen, I shook my head and started to sob. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, but there’s clearly someone out there who wants you dead, and I’m gonna need to know why. It’s the only way I can stop them from coming after you again.”
“But I’ve already told you. I don’t know.” While I couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, I knew in my heart at least part of what he’d said was true; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been lying here in such complete agony. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“Well, you best be figuring it out—and fast—because time is not on your side.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Before today, the only thing I had to worry about was if I’d remembered to go to the grocery or if I had enough gas in my tank to make it to work. Now, my life was in actual danger, and I had no idea why. That realization had my level of panic rising to a new plateau. My mind was racing, and I was on the verge of having a full breakdown when the back door opened, and an older man came into the room. I was relieved to see that he seemed friendly and hadn’t come to finish me off. He had a short beard that was more gray than black and soulful, kind eyes that immediately set me at ease. With a warm smile, he looked over to me and said, “Well, look who’s awake!”
“She came to a few minutes ago.”
“Good. Maybe that concussion wasn’t as bad as I thought.” He walked over to the edge of the bed and smiled. “How you feeling, doll?”
“Been better.”
“I imagine so. You were pretty bad off when they brought you in last night.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Doc.” He reached for my wrist to check my pulse. “I’m the one who fixed you up.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” I tried to shift my position but quickly stopped when it hurt too badly. With a grimace, I told him, “Appreciate … it.”
“No need to thank me. I was glad to do it.”
The other man glared down at me as he grumbled, “I told you we were trying to help you.”
“Ah, I guess you’ve met our boy, Shotgun.”
“Shotgun?” I glanced over at the man whose name he just mentioned and asked, “Oh, geez. What kind of name is that?”
“The kind you’d be wise not to forget.” Doc chuckled as he leaned forward and whispered, “He can be a little rough around the edges sometimes.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“I hope he hasn’t been too hard on ya.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Give him time.” He snickered. “He has a way of getting under people’s skin.”
“I’m sure he does.” After Doc finished taking my pulse, he stepped over to the counter to grab some bandages. Feeling chilly, I pulled at the sheet and blanket. Noting a strange sensation, I glanced down and realized I was naked. Horrified, I leaned up and groaned. “Um ... Where’re my clothes?”
“Unlike you, they didn’t make it.” He chuckled under his breath. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you something to put on. We’ll also move you to a more comfortable room where it’s a little wa
rmer. It can get a little cool in here at times.”
When he reached over and started to connect a drip to my IV, I got nervous it might be something harmful and asked, “Wait a minute. What’s that?”
“Moving’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but these pain meds will help.” As he reached for the second injection, he said, “I’m also giving you an antibiotic to hopefully prevent any infection.”
He was busy administering the medications when a third man walked into the room. I’d thought that Shotgun looked intimidating, but he had nothing on this guy. Even though he was much older, he was built like the freaking Hulk with tattoos covering his arms and a menacing look in his eyes. I could feel the power radiating off of him as he stepped over to us, and I suddenly wished that Shotgun was standing a little closer to me. It was a feeling that caught me by surprise. Maybe it was the simple fact that I’d met him before and he’d come to my rescue, but I felt safe around him, like he’d protect me, and at that moment, I felt the need to be protected. The burly man’s eyes were trained on me as he asked, “How’s she doing?”
“Doing better than I expected,” Doc answered.
“She tell us what she knows?”
“Yeah, but so far, she hasn’t been able to remember much,” Shotgun answered. “All I’ve gotten is that her name is Remington Taylor.”
“Fuck. It’s already been two damn days. Gonna need more than just her fucking name.” Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that I’d been out of it for two days. The thought startled me, but it was quickly forgotten when the angry man looked down at me with a hateful scowl. “Who did this to you?”
“I don’t know.” My voice trembled as I continued, “If I did, I’d tell you. I swear.”
Sensing my distress, Doc stepped between us and calmly said, “Just give her a little time, Prez. I’ll get her moved into one of the rooms, and when she’s a little more comfortable and has had some time to relax, it’ll come back to her.”
“It damn well better,” he snarled, making my entire body shudder. “Two fucking days of nothing, for Christ’s sake. We don’t have time for this shit.”
Without another word, the man stormed out of the room. Shotgun looked over to me like he had something to say, but he simply turned and followed the man out of the room. When the door slammed shut, I asked, “Umm...Who was that?”
“That, my dear, was Viper, the president of the Ruthless Sinners.”
“The Ruthless Sinners?” I gasped. “You mean the motorcycle club?”
A spark of pride flashed through his eyes as he replied, “The one and only.”
“Oh God. This is bad. Very, very bad.” I stared up at the ceiling as I muttered, “How did I not know he was a Ruthless Sinner? I’m such an idiot. This is a nightmare.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Haven’t you heard what people say about the Ruthless Sinners?”
Clearly amused, he started laughing. “You can’t believe everything you hear, Remington. We aren’t so bad.”
“Wait. Are you one of them too?”
“I am”—he smiled—“and trust me when I say, you’re in good hands here.”
“I still don’t understand how any of this happened.”
“Give it some time. You’ve been through a lot. It’ll come back to you when you’re ready.”
“I really hope you’re right.”
“I am. You’ll see.”
Doc gave the meds some time to take effect, then eased the sheet back and started to remove the bandages on my chest and lower abdomen. I was stunned when I saw the two large wounds and all the stitches. I’d had my doubts about whether or not Doc was a real doctor, but it was evident from the way he was handling things that he knew what he was doing. After he’d made sure there was no redness or infection, he replaced the bandages, then brought over some clothes for me to put on. I hadn’t realized how bad off I was until he helped me sit up. My body felt so heavy, like I was being weighed down, and my head was throbbing.
The black sleep pants were at least three sizes too big, but thankfully, there was a drawstring to cinch them up. The white t-shirt was also quite oversized, which was a good thing considering how much it hurt to raise my arms. Once I had them on and realized how good they smelled and comfortable they felt, I couldn’t imagine wearing anything else. There was no way I could walk on my own, so Doc lifted me up in his arms and carried me across the hall into a vacant room. It looked like a small hotel room with a full-sized bed, a tall dresser, and a flatscreen TV, and there was a door that led to a tiny private bathroom in the corner of the room.
As he lay me down on the bed, he asked, “Do you think you could eat something?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“I didn’t figure you would be, but we really need to get some food in your system.” When he saw the unenthused expression on my face, he pushed, “How about some crackers and maybe a Sprite?”
“Okay, I’ll try it.”
“Good. I’ll run down to the kitchen and get that for you.” As he started for the door, he asked, “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“My phone?” I asked sounding hopeful. “I need to call and let my family—”
“That’s not gonna happen.” Doc stepped back over to me. “I’m sure there are people out there looking for you. Both good and bad, and right now, we’ve gotta make sure the bad don’t get wind of the fact you’re still alive.”
“And what happens if they find out I’m alive.”
“Then, we’ll have trouble on our hands—big trouble.”
Shotgun
“You see the news this morning?” Menace asked. “Remington was all over it.”
“Yeah, I saw it. This whole thing is a fucking mess.”
“They said she was last seen having dinner with that cop.” He thought for a moment, then continued, “His name was—”
“Thomas Long,” I interrupted, finishing his thought. “Yeah, I saw that too.”
“The guy’s supposed to be in internal affairs.” Menace shrugged. “The way things turned out, you gotta wonder if the guy’s a dirty cop or something. Might’ve had a deal gone bad.”
“Making guesses isn’t going to do us any good, brother. We need someone to give us some fucking answers.”
“Well, I think I’ve got something that will help us out with that.” I’d gone by Menace’s room to do my daily check in, and as usual, the place was a fucking wreck. The bed was unmade, clothes were on the floor and dirty glasses on the bedside table, but his desk and everything around it were perfectly organized. There wasn’t so much as a spot of dust anywhere. I wasn’t surprised. Menace took his work seriously, and I had to admit, the things he could do with a computer fucking amazed me. I wasn’t alarmed when he said, “I know they weren’t the only ones responsible for all this shit, but with a little fine-tuning, I was finally able to get a decent view of the two guys who tossed Remington into our dumpster.”
“And?” He turned the laptop screen to face me, revealing a young male who looked to be in his early twenties with a tattoo scrolled across his upper throat and shoulders. “This is Drake Abernathy. He has a rap sheet a mile long. Seems this guy’s into all kinds of stupid shit from dope to sexual assault.”
“Looks like your typical hood rat.”
“Yeah, but his buddy seems to have kept out of trouble.” He flipped the screen to show an image of another man. He was much older, slender with a broad nose and graying hair. Menace cleared his throat, then added,” His name’s Alfonzo McKinney, but there’s not much more on him. He’s got no living family or relatives, but get this. He and Drake are members of the East-End Punishers. I think they’re the ones behind all this.”
“That dope-running bunch from the projects?”
“Yep, that’d be them.”
“Damn. You might be right about this Long guy being a dirty cop.”
“It’d make sense. The question is...who else was involved, and did Remington k
now about it?”
For reasons I couldn’t explain, I got pissed at the idea of her seeing some cop. Something told me it wouldn’t have mattered who she was with; I still wouldn’t have liked it. Hell, I was getting more fucked up by the minute. Trying to redirect my focus, I looked up at Menace and said, “We don’t even know if she’s involved with Long. The news just said they were last seen together, but that doesn’t mean she was actually dating the guy or even knew him.”
“Yeah, you got a point there.” He turned the screen back around, then started typing away on his keyboard. “Now that we actually know her name, I can do some digging and see what I can find on her. Maybe then, we can figure out what we’re dealing with here.”
“Get to it, brother.”
In a matter of minutes, he had Remington’s Facebook and Instagram pages pulled up, and when an image of her came up on the screen, it almost took my breath away. Fuck. Just like the night when I’d seen her at Stilettos, she was absolutely stunning—the kind of beauty you’d expect to see in some ritzy magazine. Her long dark hair and olive skin brought out her deep, sultry eyes, making me wonder what kind of secrets she kept hidden beneath them. As I looked at Remington’s hour-glass figure, rage started to creep over me once again. Not only because someone beat the hell out of her and left her for dead, but the fact that the mere sight of her had the blood rushing to my cock.
Sensing my interest in her, Menace glanced over to me with a smirk. “She’s a real looker, isn’t she?”