I held my cock in my hands and stroked, keeping my eyes open and visualizing Valentina’s breasts bouncing as she rode me. She was laughing, her hair flying as she moved her body over mine. Even after all these years, all I had to do was think of her smile, of her body, and I could explode into a million pieces.
Chapter 2
Valentina
I opened my eyes and realized that the men were gone. When I blinked my eyes open, I was staring at the ceiling. Which meant that I was lying on a bed, with a jerk I sat up and touched my clothes, thankful that I was fully dressed. At some point, when they were dragging me out of the truck, with my wrists tied and my mouth gagged, I had passed out from exhaustion.
Anything could have happened in that time, but it felt like nothing had. Other than that, I was trapped inside a dimly lit motel room.
My body ached as I moved. I had been lying scrunched up inside the back of that car for hours, while I could hear the men deciding where to take me. I’d tried screaming the whole time, kicking the walls of the trunk with my heels. My shoes were broken now, and I saw them lying near the bed. Whoever had laid me down here, had bothered to take my shoes off too. What else had they done? Suddenly, I felt like I’d been touched, like I could feel the rough hands of a strange man on my body.
In a panic, I slipped my legs off the bed and ran to the door of the room. It was foolish of me to assume that I could just escape. I pulled and tugged at the lock, hoping it would give way, but of course, I’d been locked in. Chances were that they had assigned people to guard the door outside, to make sure that I didn’t manage to escape. I looked around the room to see if there was any way I could get out or anything I could use. The phone had been ripped from the wall. I could tell by the large crack in the dingy wallpaper by the bedside table. The windows were all covered with bars, even the small one in the tiny bathroom.
I wanted to scream. How could I have allowed this to happen? I should have never come back here. I should have remained disappeared as I had planned.
I walked back to the bed and found that someone had left a tray on the bedside table. A sandwich in cling wrap and a bottle of water. I wanted to rebel and not eat, but my stomach was doing somersaults with hunger. If I abstained from food and water, I knew I would pass out again. And the last thing I wanted was to be unconscious. I needed to keep my wits about me.
So, I sat down on the bed again. The bed that my captors had provided for me, in a small motel room in the middle of nowhere.
I tucked some strands of stray hair behind my ears, and I was confident that I looked a mess. But that was the last of my worries right now. Mascara and eyeliner were streaming down my cheeks, but who cared?
I removed the cling wrap from the sandwich and took a bite. Tuna and sweetcorn, my absolute least favorite kind, but I was so hungry in that moment that I wolfed it down and tore open the cap of the bottle and chugged down all the water too. When I was done, I was panting as I sat there on the bed.
Everything was fine till I got on that flight. I hadn’t been back in ten years, and I shouldn’t have come back.
It had taken me ten years to build the life I had made for myself in Connecticut. In those first years after I ran away; I had worked part time jobs, enrolled myself back in school and paved my way through a teaching degree. When I got my first job as a kindergarten teacher, it felt like I had finally rid myself of all the dust and darkness of my previous life.
I didn’t miss home; I didn’t miss Papi. The only thing I missed, was Jesus…but he had soon become a distant memory too. A fragment of another life, the kind of guy I would never find again, and I wished him well.
I led an ordinary life in Connecticut now. I was renting a small one-bedroom apartment, going to work and coming home to the television and pre-cooked meals. It was a boring life, in black and white, but it gave me the peace I’d been searching for ever since I turned eleven. When I saw Papi beat one of his men to a pulp, and throw his limp body off a bridge.
I had looked up to Papi until then; I had been shielded from his work, so to me…just like to every other little girl, my father was my hero. He was a hero until I saw what he did on the bridge that night. I started asking questions, and I realized what he was doing to Jesus and other boys like him.
I was happy for Jesus when he was recruited by the Rogue Rebels MC. I couldn’t have asked for anything better for him, then to escape the life that Papi had carved out for him. But once Jesus left the gang, I knew we would have no future. Papi nor the gang would ever let us be together. Not while we lived in the same city, not while he rode with the Rogue Rebels.
I wanted him to go, but that would mean that I would have to leave too. So, I ran. I escaped and came to Connecticut, to a small sleepy town where nobody knew my name and where I knew Papi nor his goons would ever find me.
It was difficult to be away from Jesus, to be away from the love that I had just discovered, but this was the only way we could both survive in this world. I made my peace with it a long time ago, but now I was back, and I had no idea where he was. Chances were that Jesus wasn’t even with the Rogue Rebels anymore, that he wasn’t even in the city.
And now, I was a prisoner, and my life was at stake. As was Papi’s.
I wished Papi hadn’t written to me; I wished I hadn’t found out that he was sick. Then, I wouldn’t have got on that flight, and I wouldn’t have stepped foot in this messed up city again. That way, the Muerte Viviente, would never have found me or kidnapped me.
xxx
I knew the men were Muerte Viviente because of their tattoos. They were all of the skulls of the dead. They were covered in them, and I noticed them the moment the group of three men walked towards me at the airport. I had been trying to stuff my bags into the trunk of the cab I had hailed, and before I could react, two of them had grabbed me, while the third lifted me up by my feet. The people around us just stood there watching. They didn’t even move a muscle to try and help.
Within seconds a screeching car had pulled up, and the men threw me in.
I screamed and struggled in the car, while the men pinned me down to tie up my wrists.
“Your father owes us money,” one of them had growled, while another stuffed rag into my mouth so that my cries would muffle. I wanted to say something, to plead with them to let me go so that I could see Papi. What kind of debt had he run into?
“He’s owed us for four months now,” another one chimed in, with a devilish grin on his face while the third ran a finger up and down my left cheek. I screamed, my throat chaffing from my cries.
“He’s not going to be able to pay,” he said, right into my ear and I could smell his beer-breath, and it made me nearly choke.
I didn’t stop struggling, even though my wrists were tied up. How did they know I was coming? How did they know to keep a watch on the airport? But the Muerte Viviente knew everything. If they believed that debt was owed to them, then they were going to make damn sure that it was paid. Even if it meant by taking my life.
When my muffled screams grew too tiresome for them, they stopped in the middle of the highway and dragged me out of the car. I tried to run when they pulled me out, but I was no match for the three Muerte Viviente men plus the driver. They grabbed me and stuffed me into the trunk, while my mascara ran in a heavy dark stream down my cheeks.
I hadn’t eaten in several hours, and I was beginning to feel weak. Instinctually, I continued to kick at the walls of the trunk, even though I knew that there was no escape. In those moments of utter terror, instead of thinking of Papi, only Jesus’ face floated in front of my eyes. Even though I hadn’t seen him in ten years, it was his face that I was reminded of. The guy who had made me feel safe, the one who had made me feel special. I felt like he was the only one who could save me now.
When they stopped at the motel and pulled me out of the trunk, I fell unconscious in their arms. After that, there was only darkness until I woke up on the motel bed.
Did Papi even know I
was missing? How could he know? I hadn’t even told him I was coming. When I received the letter from him, telling me that he was very sick, I still couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted to come back here. I was still in shock that he had tracked me down after all those years.
At the last minute, just hours before the fight I eventually took, I decided that I couldn’t just let him die before saying our goodbyes. I hadn’t written to him or called to say that I was on my way. So, he didn’t know to expect me, which meant that he wouldn’t know that I had been kidnapped.
And now I wasn’t sure what would happen to him if I did manage to escape from here, even though the chances of that happening were minimal. Would they kill him if I left? They most certainly would.
As much as I was afraid of Papi, as much as I had hated him for the things I had seen him doing…he was still my father. I couldn’t just forget about all those years of my childhood when I had looked up to him before I had met Jesus, and Papi was the only man in my life. I had run away from home without leaving him a note, without keeping in touch…in my mind, he had already paid his dues to me. It was why I had returned.
I lay back down on the bed now, staring up at the ceiling blankly. What were these men going to do to me? How were they going to avenge Papi's debt? I had been away from the gang and MC world for so long, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t aware of what they were capable of.
The fact that they had kidnapped me meant that they had something planned. The Muerte Viviente wasn't the kind of gang that would kidnap me just to scare my father. They were going to teach him a lesson. They were going to use me as bait, or make sure that Papi never got to see me again. Either one of those two options were bad news for me.
I shivered and tossed and turned on the bed, and every time I pressed my eyes closed, I thought of Jesus and where he might be. No other man had even come close to the young love that we had shared as teenagers. For all I knew, he had left the MC and gotten married and started a family. I smiled at the thought of Jesus with a wife, with a kid…was he happy?
I felt the tears trickling down my cheeks as I lay there. Even in the worst moments of my life, when I had no hope of getting out of this place alive, all I could think about was the man I ran away from.
Chapter 3
King
I was standing facing Elwood at Church. This meeting had been called to discuss our latest discovery that the Black Skulls were running a fighting ring, using kids. I had my fists clenched on either side as I stood glaring at him. They all knew how I felt about this issue, and a small buzz of voices had rung out in the bar around me.
“Quiet. We’ll give King his say. Continue…” Elwood called out, and the buzz died. My brothers did as they were told.
I didn’t need to clear my voice. I was already prepared for what I was going to say.
“I was one of them, Elwood. Till you helped me get out of there. Thankfully, I was still alive,” I said, through gritted teeth.
Not a day went by that I didn’t think of my life in those fighting rings. When we were pitted against each other. One kid against another. Poised to break jaws, jam fingernails into eyes with the crowd around us roaring wild. Blood spilling everywhere, making the crowd, even more, blood thirsty. Elwood’s eye twitched as he stared back at me. He knew exactly what I was talking about. He had saved me from it.
“There are too many to save now,” he replied, in a small thoughtful grumble. I sucked in a lungful of air before I spoke again.
“And each of them deserves to keep living. I was a street kid before the Muerte Viviente picked me up. I didn’t know any better. I thought that the pittance they were going to pay me to fight their fights in the ring, would pay for my mother’s medication. That finally, I would be able to provide for my family,” I said, and I could feel my blood boiling.
Elwood shifted in his seat and looked at the men standing behind me. Commando, Girth, Slade…all brothers, all men who were on my side. They knew every detail of my past because I had shared it with them and they knew how passionately I felt about the fighting rings.
“I know your story, King. I don’t need any reminders,” Elwood said, and I took a step towards him, and he arched his eyebrows.
“Elwood…you saved me,” my voice dropped by several decibels. I was willing to beg him if I had to. To get those boys out. I had an excellent idea what kind of life they were being forced to live. The lure of petty cash for a teenager would have seemed tempting enough, but once they joined the gang, they would have no way to escape. They would be forced to fight in the rings every day. Fight till their deaths, and then new boys would be recruited for the same pitiable lives. There was no escaping that circle. Unless we did something about it.
“And I am glad I did,” Elwood said and I shook my head.
“This was me ten years ago,” I countered passionately.
“And I know you feel bad for those boys. But I'm not sure if this is a risk worth taking. If we go in there and try to close a ring that the Black Skulls are running; it could mean that we lose our men,” Elwood growled, trying to put me back in my place but I wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
“Yes, that is a risk. But what the Black Skulls are running is against every code of our MC. No children or women. Remember? Isn’t that what you taught us?” I growled and could feel my shoulders heaving as I spoke.
Elwood was studying me, from head to toe. His gaze fell on the cross on the silver chain that always hung from my neck. It had escaped out of my shirt and was hanging loose on my chest now. He stared at it for a couple of moments and then blinked.
“Yes, that is what I taught you, and I stand by it,” he said, and I tipped my head once.
“Then we should make sure that we stand up for what we believe in, and rescue those boys,” I said, and a low buzz rang out in the bar again. Elwood looked around lazily, at his men…the men whose lives he was responsible for and then turned to me again.
“You have come a long way, King,” he said, and I clenched my jaws.
“Yes, I have, and I owe it all to you and my brothers. I wouldn’t even have been alive if it wasn’t for you,” I reiterated, and Elwood nodded his head. I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. What did that nod mean? He took in a deep breath, and I could see him looking into the eyes of Commando and Girth, for a sign of approval. I didn’t have to look at them to know what they were thinking.
“All right, we’ll go in,” he said, and the bar erupted in a cheer.
I found myself grinning too, a wave of relief had washed over my face. Ever since Commando and I had walked into that warehouse and seen the fighting ring, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The only thing that mattered to me now was rescuing those kids out of there, giving them a chance the way Elwood had given me.
This time it wasn’t going to be easy. Elwood had saved me from a low scale gang. Whereas now, we were going to be up against a full-fledged MC. And the Black Skulls and us weren’t exactly on friendly terms.
I felt Commando’s hand slap down on my shoulder and then squeeze.
“You did it, brother,” he said, and I turned to my brothers and found them smiling.
“You convinced Elwood,” Slade said, and I nodded my head. This was just the beginning.
Chapter 4
Valentina
They sat me down in the front row. Not that there were any rows. Just plastic chairs dotted around the fighting ring. I could have been the only female in that warehouse, either way; I hadn’t looked. All I knew was that I was in an abandoned warehouse, surrounded by big men with tattoos and in leather jackets.
It wasn’t only the Muerte Viviente guys who were there; I could see that the bulk of the crowd around me were from an MC. The Black Skulls? I was trying to not stare at the patch on their jackets.
They had driven me from the motel room to this warehouse, with my wrists bound again. They wanted me to see what they could do to other people, to instill fear in me. To ma
ke sure that I didn’t try running away.
The three Muerte Viviente guys stood around me, and I looked ahead, breathing hard, sweat trickling down my forehead. I could see the kids being prepared to be thrown into the ring. I knew what was going to happen. I hadn’t seen a fight like this before, but I had heard of it. I knew Jesus used to be one of these kids; he was forced by Papi into doing exactly this. It made my stomach turn.
“Valentina…you are as beautiful as always,” I heard a voice behind me, and I whipped around in my chair to look. It was Juan. He looked older now. I knew him well when I was growing up. He used to be one of the teenagers in the fighting ring like Jesus, but apparently, he had taken over the gang since Papi fell sick.
“Juan, what are you doing to me!” I screeched, but my voice was drowned by the loud music and other people’s voices. Some of the biker guys turned to look in our direction, but they were not going to help me. The only reason they had even looked at me earlier was because I was a woman. I was nothing but a walking-talking pair of tits and a pussy to them.
“Calm yourself, sweetheart, you know exactly what is happening to you,” Juan walked around in front of me, and then reached out to stroke my hair. I yanked myself away from him, my chair toppled a little, and one of the guys pushed me forward again. They all laughed, including Juan.
“Your Papi owes us money, he borrowed more than he could repay,” Juan said, with the smile still on his face.
“He’s sick!” I screamed at him, trying to spit the words out but it didn’t affect Juan. He just smiled and stepped back.
The fight was about to start behind him; the kids had been led on to the ring. A bell went off somewhere, and everyone turned to pay attention. I was breathing hard through my nose as Juan came over to stand beside me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. A slimy cold hand that turned my body to ice. He was going to use me. He was going to hurt me. I knew he was.
Say Yes, Senator: A Best Friend's Little Sister Political Romance Page 26