Razor's Mark: (Marked Book 1)

by Gracie Meadows

  And with that, he hit her over and over again. Her ribs, her face; then they kicked her legs. She couldn’t do anything but cry out. Over and over again. Each time he hit her he laughed then squeezed her breasts, which were now covered with patches of bruises and nail marks.

  “Play time is over. Back to your cage.” He pulled out a knife, and instantly she froze. The small amount of light flickered off the blade as he ran it down her collarbone leaving small lines in her skin. It wasn’t enough pressure to cut her, but she sure felt the scratch it was leaving. He ran it down her arm and sliced the zip tie and then the other. Soon she was free, but he held her steady. Two other men came forward and grabbed her arms, making her stand on her shaking legs.

  Suddenly she was being dragged again, and this time, he wasn’t kidding when he said cage. She looked up and saw a lot of dogs in large cages or crates. The men opened one and shoved her inside. It was big enough for her to sit up, but nothing more. Someone threw a water bottle in with her and locked the door. The barking and growls from the dogs made everything worse. She was alone, and no one would think to look for her here.

  Curling into a small ball, she held her ribs tenderly, trying to calm her shaking body. Her thoughts all turned to Razor. She saw him lying on the ground, blood pouring out of him. He was dead, and it was once again her fault. Sure, he would yell at her for thinking that, but he wasn’t here. No one was. She was alone. Her brother had been shot, John had been killed, and now Razor was dead. She was alone, and even though she told herself she would stay awake and survive this, she didn’t know if she was strong enough to pull through.

  Looking around, she didn’t see anything to help her. Opening the water bottle, she took a small drink. It hurt. Her jaw and lip were busted good.

  She did her best to try to drink, but as she did, she started to feel fuzzy. The world was taking an unusual turn and reality started to slip. She hadn’t checked the water, but now that she thought about it, the bottle had been open before. They drugged her. Well, right now, that was fine with her. She could use a reality slip and ignore the pain in her body. But the real question still remained, would she be able to wake up, or would she stay in wonderland?

  *****

  “Ahh,” she cried while she was hung up high like a rack of meat. A new guy, who she’d learned loved to bite, took another chunk of her thigh.

  “I like the look of that on you.” He stood and looked at her; his smell made her want to gag. He stunk of cheap cigarettes and bad body odor. “I wanna mark you somewhere else, but we have to wait until the big boss says we can.” He took his hand and cupped her mound, sliding it up and down. “Bet your cunt’s as tight as a virgin’s. You would hug my cock real good. Make you scream as I fuck you hard and fast. Then I would flip you over and ram that ass of yours. Nothing sexier than fucking an ass that doesn’t want to be fucked. You would strangle my cock so tight. Fuck me; I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

  He reached up and smacked her breast leaving a bright red print that was similar to the bruises she had. She had been here for three days. The first day hurt; the second day, they did nothing but taunt her and kick her cage, except for the one man who jacked off, shooting his nastiness all over her hair. She was dirty and smelled. But this dickhead didn’t seem to care. He was rubbing his nasty five-inch cock all over her body.

  “Maybe I should just take you now.” He pulled her body back against him as she hung helplessly. He thrust his nasty pecker against her backside, sliding it between her crack but never penetrating her. She couldn’t help but whimper; scared he was going to do it.

  “Nah, I don’t think you’re scared enough yet; maybe tomorrow.” However, he held out a knife and made her look at it. She froze in fear. “I think a makeover is in order first. After all, I want you to look your best when I take you; then the boys can have you.”

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and with unexpected speed, he cut her hair; the once clean, blonde hair fell to the ground in a pile. He did it again; she let the tear slide down her face. When he was done with her hair, he finished by cutting off the rest of her nasty panties, leaving her naked.

  “You know, for a chick who was hanging around with bikers and at a tattoo shop, you sure have pretty clean skin. Think I can fix that.” And before she could even comprehend what he was going to do, she felt the knife start to slice into her side, deep. The pain was unlike anything she’d ever felt before, but he just laughed and kept cutting her.

  “Fucking bitch will have my mark for life now.” He lifted the knife showing her blood dripping down from it. Just as she thought it couldn’t get worse, he threw some sort of alcohol on it. She let out a scream so loud the yellow glow from the bulb grew dim, and the world spun around her.

  This was how it was going to be; no one would come, and she would be forever marked by him. Giving in to her natural state, she allowed her body to float elsewhere and sink into the darkness.

  *****

  The sound of paper ripping and people yelling made him open his eyes. Where the hell was he, and why did he feel like he just got shot?

  Fuck, he did.

  Faith.

  Shooting up like a rocket, he looked around. He wasn’t in a hospital, but at a club. What the hell?

  “Fuck, Razor, man, you need to hold still, or you’ll pop your stitches.” Stitches, what the hell was he talking about? Reaching up he felt a large bandage on his shoulder and several smaller ones wrapped around his midsection.

  “Faith; where is she?” he was able to get out. How long was he down; how the hell was he alive?

  “Don’t know. Merlin is out looking for her. I’m Doc by the way. The neighbor across the way is under our protection and heard the shouting and the gunfire so she called us. The door was smashed open, and you weren’t moving. You bled out pretty good, thought you were dead. It seems they smashed your head pretty hard, knocking you out. But the bullet went clean through; you’re lucky to be fucking alive.” Razor didn’t feel very lucky right now. He had let Faith down, and now they had her doing God knows what.

  “How long?” he asked.

  “How long were you out? Well, with the blood loss and the meds we pumped you full of, about three days.” The doc sounded cool about it, but all he could think of was how much his little kitten could withstand for three days. She wouldn’t come out whole, but he would help her. First, he needed to get the hell off this makeshift bed thing and find her.

  “I need to find her.”

  “We have everyone looking for her.”

  “But I’m not. I have some people who can try to help.” He could call Sparkle and have her use her weird internet connections to see if there was anything big going down. With all the conspiracy nuts out there, she would be the one to know.

  “I need a phone.” Ignoring Doc’s instructions, he stood up and tried to walk around.

  He felt stiff, shaky, but that didn’t stop him.

  “You need to lay the fuck down. They will find her.”

  “And then what? Do you know what the fuck they’ll do to her? Can you assure me that they’ll bring her home okay and untouched? You can’t do shit, and I can’t fucking sit here and wait for someone else to look for her.”

  “I get it. If it was my old lady, I would move heaven and earth for her. I’ll get you a phone, and I’ll let Merlin know you’re up. He would want to know what happened.”

  “Sure, whatever.” He found a small sink off to the side; he turned on the faucet and splashed some water on his face. He looked like shit. Gray, haunting skin, and unshaved.

  He didn’t have time to worry about himself. Faith was in trouble, and if he didn’t get to her in time, they would kill her, or worse. His stomach turned just thinking about it. She was so sweet and innocent, and to be taken by them; God only knew what they were doing.

  Before he could dwell on that, he needed to make a phone call. Finding the phone on the side of the small cot, he ca
lled Sparkle.

  “It’s your dime.” That was Sparkle.

  “Hey, it’s Razor. I need your help.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Razor had explained several times to Merlin what had happened at the safe house.

  “I just don’t get how they found it.”

  “It’s easy; some dude from the Tomb Riders followed you all to the house and didn’t see your bike. They thought they were stashing you at the house, so they came to finish the job. They found us by mistake.”

  “So who took out the guy in the back room?”

  “That was Faith. She was taking a bath, trying not to stress out about you getting shot. I knew it would relax her enough to calm her down; then the damn door busted open. I shot, but three to one isn’t good odds when it comes to hand-to-hand. Needless to say, they ended up grabbing her after she shot one. They roughed me up some and hit her as she struggled. The big, smelly one laughed and then he shot me. I don’t remember anything else until a few hours ago. Have you had any luck finding her?” Razor was starting to think they might never find her.

  “Nothing yet. But we have people combing the streets, and a few guys from other MCs are looking for her too. We aren’t the only ones who have a beef with the Tomb Riders. Fuck, I hate this shit.”

  They all sat around with a large map of the city. Merlin was pointing out areas for people to check. Razor didn’t think that was going to happen. His gut was telling him that if they were going to find her, Sparkle would be the key. However, she couldn’t have just come alone, no, she’d had to bring Casper. She said she would have brought Tex, but he kept talking about how he wanted a picture of his shoulder where he’d been shot, and it was creeping her out.

  “Anything?” He walked over to Sparkle as she sat drinking her diet coke and Casper sipped the free whiskey.

  “Nothing, but I did have someone mention something about the company your girl worked for. I guess there are major audits happening, and people have been arrested. Seems they can’t find half of them. So, I have feelers out to track them. My finger is on the head guy, the CEO, Ron Stiner. He’s the one who was signing off on everything. I put a tracker on his phone. If he goes anywhere unusual, or pings in this area, we’ll have him.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?” Casper asked.

  “Only if I’m caught. But trust me, they want to find this guy as much as we do. It’s just a wait and see game.” She kept clicking back and forth between screens of chat rooms.

  “Don’t worry, mate, she’ll be fine. She is strong, that girl. Don’t fret; she’ll have us when she gets back.” Casper seemed a little too chipper.

  “Do you think this is a fucking joke, Casper? She could be dead for all we know, and you’re making it seem like she ate some bad food. Do you know what those assholes are capable of? Have you seen her? Put two and two together or I will put my fist in your fucking face.” There, he’d needed to let that out. Hell, he needed to hit something or someone.

  “I wasn’t making a damn joke, Razor. I was trying to ease a shitty situation. I want to find her too. She’s a good girl, and I like her. I don’t want anything bad to happen, so calm the fuck down. Have a drink, or go outside and do something.” He watched as he lit another cigarette. When did Casper start to smoke? Fuck, he hated this.

  “We will find her,” Sparkle said, wrapping her arms around his waist. He just wished it was that simple.

  *****

  A hit to the side, a slap to her face, tugging her hair. It didn’t matter; she was no longer aware of pain. She’d stopped crying and screaming about ten minutes ago. The marks that covered her back would scar. Just like the damn initials the fucker had cut into her side. They liked to use dog leashes to whip her before they played with her.

  Her breasts were swollen from being bitten and hit so many times. She doubted she even had feeling in them anymore. Her ass hurt too, though none of them had actually raped her, they sure played; rubbing on her and shooting their nasty cum all over her body. She smelled, and it didn’t seem to matter. Meathead walked in, and a look of glee came over his face.

  “The big man is coming today, so we need to get you clean.” However, the way he said it made her feel dirtier.

  Still hanging from a meat hook, she just hung there. Her shoulders taking the weight of her body made them strain in pain. Suddenly a hose came into view and without even lifting her head, she held still while he blasted the icy water across her skin. She could feel the dirt come off, but it only allowed for her to see the marks better. There wasn’t a patch of skin that wasn’t yellow, green, black or blue.

  She was smaller, but that was on her. They’d provided a sandwich for her, but she just couldn’t stomach eating. She was falling down into a spiral, and she didn’t want out of her shell. It was safe there; no one hurt her, no one touched her, and she could only see Razor’s face.

  That was who she thought about when they hit her, bit her, or put their cigarettes out on her skin. His smile, his laugh, and the tender things he said or did. Not to mention the demanding side that she had fallen for. So much and it was all gone. At least when they finally finished the job, she would be with him. Did he believe in heaven? She’d never asked, and right now, she just imagined he did. It was the one positive thought that kept her from slipping into complete darkness.

  “What’s wrong, bitch, don’t want to talk today?” He lifted her face to look at him, but she didn’t look him in the eyes. She focused on the small spot in her mind. The small window she used to focus on something other than the disgusting waste of a man in front of her. He slapped her already swollen face and nothing. Just a loud sound echoing in her head.

  “Well, I can see this will be fun. Since the big man is coming, I think you should just hang tight until he gets here.” He sprayed her some more before laughing and leaving her hanging again.

  She could feel her skin start to shake from the cold air hitting her soaked naked body. It was cold out and there wasn’t any heat inside the warehouse. She couldn’t control her body as it shivered, but her mind was all hers.

  Every second felt like an hour. Finally, she heard the bay doors being opened and a car. It was a big, throaty engine, so it wasn’t followed by any bikes. She didn’t really care anymore, because well, whoever it was planned to kill her anyway.

  “I see you’re treating her well. I appreciate that.” A man stepped out of the car. All she could see were his shoes; fancy shoes. He was the one calling all the shots. And she didn’t have to guess at who it might be.

  “So this is the elusive Faith Hillman. Not very talkative, is she?” A cold and clammy hand touched her face, forcing it up as he looked at her. “You sure it’s her? Kinda hard to tell right now.” She took a chance and tried to focus on the wrinkled face of the ever so sick Ron Stiner, CEO of Hamilton and Rogers. He’d put the price out on her head. Figures, he was on top of her pyramid of disgusting people.

  “So are you going to be a good little birdie and sing for me?” She didn’t answer.

  She didn’t need to; he wasn’t going to get anything out of her.

  “Who else did you tell?” he asked in a commanding tone, though it lacked a certain gravel that her brother’s or Razor’s had. Lowering her eyes, she avoided him. A smack hit her face, and again, she didn’t cry out.

  “I see; you’re not going to talk, huh? Well, we’ll see how well you sing after we’re done with you.” He laughed, which set Meathead laughing as well. “Unhook her.”

  Someone lifted her from behind and pulled her arms off the hook before dropping her onto the hard concrete. Her knees hit first, and she could feel them getting scraped up. Instead of getting up, she just laid there. What was the point, she learned quickly that if she tried to stand or move, they would kick her, and right now, if they did that her ribs would crack more.

  “Bring me the stuff,” Ron sneered as he bent and grabbed her hair lifting her enough to look at him again. “I got s
omething that will make you sing real pretty, and if you don’t, then I’ll let the boys fuck it out of you. I wouldn’t touch you, you’re tainted with filth, but that doesn’t mean I won’t watch the show. I will find out what I want to know and then you will die. Or hell, I will give you to them. Think they could make a quick buck from you.” Staring at what he was doing, it was all too soon when a needle was put into his hand.

  “Do you know what this is? You’re a smart girl, so I will make it simple and explain it to the others. It’s something we don’t use anymore, but it works well. Sodium Pentothal. It was used a lot during WWII, but not so much now. It makes your mind all fuzzy, but you can still feel pain. Your friend wasn’t a talker. But that’s fine; we got what we wanted from him. And now it’s your turn.” He stuck the needle into the side of her arm and instantly everything about her body went limp. Unable to focus on one thing, she closed her eyes and prayed she would be strong enough.

  “Now, who did you tell?” He had asked her several times, yet she didn’t answer. He was just a background noise, a static to the world around her. She was gone, and she was keeping everything to herself. He finally got tired of talking to her and shoved her back down on the ground.

  “She’s yours.” As her eyes floated around, ferocious grins broke out on their faces as they started to unbuckle their belts. This was it; she was going to be taken and then killed. Closing her eyes, she waited as someone shifted her, spreading her legs wide.

  His body pressed against hers as someone licked her neck.

  “Oh, you’re gonna be sweet. Come on, you stupid cunt, scream for me.” He held her throat down as she felt the tip of his pecker press against her. She started praying she would just die already. But then his body fell on hers hard, and something liquid ran on her.