This is it. This is my only way out of this hellhole.
I unwrap the cord and look around the garage, trying to see what I can tie it to. The garage is an average metal pole building and the ceilings are high. Then again, I’m about five foot two, so everything is tall to me. I stand up on the stool, toss the cord over the metal beam a couple feet above me, and pull the opposite side down. Within a minute, I’ve tied a few knots into the cord, so my body weight doesn’t pull it undone.
Next, I wrap the cord around my neck and toss it again over the rafter, pulling the other side of the cord down and secure it. This will work. It has to. I don’t want to keep being an object to these people anymore. I don’t want to keep living a life that isn’t even my own. I can’t, and I won’t.
I take in one last breath and look down, knowing my body will hang a good foot or two. Worry courses through me. I hope this won’t hurt too bad. It can’t be worse than the things Scar’s done to me. It just can’t.
Closing my eyes, I kick the stool down so I can’t back out of this shit and it hits the concrete with a loud thud.
My body takes over and goes into fight or flight mode and I gasp for air, desperately trying to get it. It’s ironic. My body wants me to try and breathe, to fight for this shitty thing I call life, but my mind isn’t amused by this joke.
The door to the garage is pushed open and three bodies come filing in. Pressure comes around my legs and then everything goes black. The darkness consumes me and I hope this is it.
I hope I never wake up to this nightmare ever again.
Chapter Two
Ravage
The languid flames flicker in the bonfire in front of us. Things have been relaxed lately, which is a nice change of scenery from what it’s typically like. Sure, we have shit going on, but we’re doing our best to keep our game faces on, especially since there are kids here. We don’t want them knowin’ we’re all a bit stressed.
It’s your typical Saturday night. Brothers are gathered around the fire with either their ol’ ladies on their laps or a clubwhore to keep them warm for the night. The pornstars who work for the club are here too, enjoying the low-key evening.
For the first time in a while, we have visitors. Boss, the Prez of the Iron Vex MC, is here. She brought her daughter, Destiny. Her ol’ man, Cowboy, tagged along with her. Destiny and Ace are playing off closer to the water, with Riva, our enforcer’s ol’ lady watching the two of them. Hell, we didn’t even know if Ace was ever gonna be able to have a normal life, but here she is, actin’ like a lil’ girl should.
Mammoth sits a few feet to my right on a severed tree stump. We have a few stumps around the fire for us to sit on when we want. A bit redneck if you ask me, but it works. “It’s good to see that lil’ one with a smile on her face. I didn’t know if we were ever gonna see this,” Mammoth speaks up, and I nod in agreement.
Every single one of us here loves Ace like she’s our own daughter, but her father, or rather her biological father, is a disgusting piece of shit who deserves to be where he is—six feet under. We don’t speak his name and we all celebrated when Gamble told us he took his last breath. I can attest for most of us when I say I hope we could’ve had a round at him. He took so much from us, including my best friend, Dog. He was the Prez before he was killed by Ace’s biological father. Then Gamble was made Prez as a joke, and the rest is history.
“It was a close one,” I comment to Mammoth, eyes on the little girl with blonde curly hair like her momma.
Mammoth clears his throat. “Mhm. You seen any of them Beasts of Brutality lately?”
I glance to my right and see his eyes are locked onto mine. He’s worried. I wouldn’t say I’m worried, more like I’m cautious, but as long as we don’t stir up too much trouble, we should be fine. “No, not since the last time.”
“I don’t like how close they are, Ravage. They’re too close to us. You know it’ll only bring trouble.”
Hell, their club name is confirmation enough of his statement. “For now, we sit back and assess the situation. We can’t act recklessly.”
“If we do, it’ll only make things worse,” Hart, Gamble’s ol’ man, speaks up from my left. He walks over to Mammoth and me with the same tight-lipped expression that he’s always sporting.
“We know who they are, which only makes things worse. We know what they’re capable of,” I state, crossing my arms, I lean back a bit, trying to relax my tense muscles, but it doesn’t work.
“We can take them. They can’t be worse than others we’ve faced before,” Mammoth speaks up.
Hart scoffs, “They’re some of Rage’s worst. They won’t be easy to deal with and that’s a promise.”
“You talkin’ about the Beasts of Brutality?” a voice questions from behind us. I turn my head to look back, seein’ Boss’ ol’ man, Cowboy. He’s not only her man but the Prez of her Boston, Massachusetts charter.
With a beer in hand, he approaches, and Hart takes over, leading the conversation. “You’ve heard of them?”
Cowboy scoffs, unable to hide his disgust. “Hits a bit closer to home, I’m afraid. Two of my blood brothers are part of the club.”
I crane my neck, watching how Cowboy reacts very carefully. I should give the guy some credit, but I don’t know enough about him. He might not have a good relationship with his brothers. Then again, he could be playin’ us somehow. There’s not a stone I’ll leave unturned. Not after goin’ through the shit we all have here.
“What’s the deal with that?” Hart doesn’t waste time as he asks his question. All of us assume the worst until proven otherwise. It’s just the way things go here. You don’t automatically get trust. You earn it.
Cowboy takes a swig of his beer before taking a moment before he speaks. “Duke and Pistol were my brothers before they chose this path. They’re fucked up. They’re . . . repulsive. There isn’t much to tell where they’re concerned. I have a family now, and that’s my priority,” Cowboy states, looking over to where Boss and Gamble are chatting, and then his eyes dart over to Destiny. While he isn’t the girl’s birth father, you’d never know. He’s stepped up in every sense of the word.
“C’mon, you have to give us more than that,” Hart grumbles, glaring at Cowboy.
Cowboy shakes his head. “If you want me to tell you everything will be fine while they’re around, I won’t. They’re sick fucks who don’t know when to stop. My advice? Take them out while you can so all of you can sleep better at night.”
Hart looks over to Mammoth and me, and we know. We’re unable to escape the shit that keeps following us. Whenever we think we’re finally able to get a breath, reality comes crashing in.
Trouble and issues will always be close by. It’s become our way of life.
Chapter Three
Marisole
My vision is blurry as I open my eyes. It takes a few minutes for everything to become clear again, and as it does, I realize where I am. Not going to lie, I thought I’d be in Hell for taking my own life and all, but even the flames of Hell wouldn’t burn as badly as my tears do now.
I’m on Scar’s deep blue comforter and the posters on the wall prove I’m in the very place I didn’t want to be. I wasn’t successful. God, why am I here?
Why am I still here if only to live a life of pain? It doesn’t make any sense to me. None of this does.
My husband makes me constantly feel like I can’t do anything right. God forbid I take a breath wrong. The next moment I have his fist closing in on my cheek. This life of mine is hardly life at all. It’s more of a prison.
Pushing my hands underneath me, I pull myself up on the bed and look to the bedside table. Sweat beads across my forehead and nausea rolls through my stomach. I don’t have any idea how long I’ve been out. It could’ve been hours, or maybe even days.
A spoon lays beside the syringe, and I pull open the drawer to the nightstand. Sure enough, a baggy with my heroin is there, and my lighter is right where I last left it. Scar de
als drugs around this area, so he always makes sure to have a good stock for him and his guys. The night I married him, he held me down and injected me with what he called his best stuff. Since then, I can’t remember a day where I haven’t taken a hit.
I grab the spoon, put some powder in it, and light the lighter underneath it. All I need is a couple of minutes to liquify this, allow it to cool down for a couple minutes, and then get it in the syringe. Then I’ll be close to my high, closer to not feeling a fucking thing anymore.
After I get the heroin melted down and give it a couple of minutes to cool, I search desperately for my tourniquet. It isn’t where I last left it, so I look around, sure enough finding it on the floor between the side of my bed and the night table. Picking it up, I wrap it around my left arm and tie it off, keeping my arm one with gravity. It’s the easiest way I’ve found I can get a vein.
My high is closer than ever, so I grab the syringe and pull on the opposite end, so the rose gold liquid goes in. I bring it to my arm and look for a vein but finding one has become an issue over the last few months.
I use my middle finger against my thumb and flick at the crook of my arm. After a couple moments, a vein pops up and I insert the needle. As I pull back the plunger, I know I’ve hit a vein, so I inject the heroin into my body. Once all of it is inside, I pull off the tourniquet and remove the needle, tossing it in the trash can next to my bed.
Leaning back against the pillows, I breathe in and out slowly while the numbness goes over every part of my body. I don’t feel anymore. I don’t hurt. I don’t know anything. I’m just here.
If my father was still alive, I wonder if he would’ve let Scar get away with this. If he would’ve allowed him to turn me into this drug-ridden, pathetic excuse of a human. On the day of my wedding, my father never showed. He promised he was going to walk me down the aisle and be there for me. I, being the gullible girl I was, believed every lie and promise he said to me.
Scar told me a week after our wedding that he’d been taken and was killed. How there was an auction and everything. It gutted me. I knew my father was never going to come in and get me out of this horrible situation and that I was stuck dealing with it myself. Truthfully, I should’ve tried to kill myself ages ago. I don’t know why I waited nine years to do it. I can’t understand why I waited this long, not that it matters since I’m still here.
Intense euphoria begins to take hold of me as the drugs storm through my veins. The door to my bedroom opens and the only way I can tell is from the sudden surge of light. It becomes dark yet again and the light on the bedside table illuminates part of the room.
His chiseled jaw comes into view, and then I spot the monarch butterfly tattoo on the side of his neck—my husband—Scar.
He snorts, “You thought you could leave me? You won’t ever leave. Not now. Not ever. I’ll give you all the drugs you need to be with me, but you’re never going to get away from me, you pathetic bitch.” He tugs at my leggings and pulls them down, flips me over, and the clink of his belt tells me what’s about to happen. It’s the only thing he ever uses me for.
A surge of cold air hits my ass and he uses his hands to spread my pussy lips before slamming his cock inside me. He doesn’t care if I’m aroused in the least bit. Scar only cares about himself.
Heat comes beside my ear and he grits out his words, “I won’t ever let you die, and that’s a promise.”
He rocks his dick in and out of me until he’s finished. Hot spurts of his cum hit my ass and the pressure that was once there is gone.
The bed rises as he slides off and he heads for the door. Light comes into the room for a moment and Scar speaks up, “She’s just taken a hit if anyone wants a round with my wife.”
Without the drugs, I don’t know how I’d be able to bear any of this.
Chapter Four
Ravage
“You’ve got ten more minutes, girls, then we need to pack up and leave!” Boss yells over to Destiny and Ace, who’re making a sandcastle together. Ace draws her brows together and glares at Boss, proving yet again she’s got Gamble’s attitude. Destiny, on the other hand, continues packing sand in the stone indented pail, acting like she hasn’t even heard her mother.
It’s been a few days since Boss and Cowboy have been here with Destiny. Now they’ll be heading back to Queens in the morning, and then the following day, Cowboy will be going back to Boston to check in and see how his club is doing.
The sun is starting to set and the sky’s now a mixture of orange, pink, and purple. We’ve spent most of the day in the sun, relaxing as much as we can, hoping none of us would catch wind of those Beasts of Brutality fuckers. Hell, we made sure to surround not only Gamble, Hart, and Ace, but Destiny, Boss, and Cowboy too. Riva and Mammoth stuck in the center with their little girl, Dahlia. She’s about three months old now and any chance Riva can get, she’s showin’ that little one of hers off.
Judge sinks back in the beach chair a few feet to my right and groans. “What I wouldn’t kill for a couple of ice-cold beers.”
“You want some? Fuck it, let’s go to the boardwalk and find a bar. There’s bound to be somethin’ around here,” I tell him, rising from the chair.
Judge cocks a brow and pulls his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “You fuckin’ with me or what? They’re gonna overcharge the fuck outta us.”
“Aren’t you the bastard who told me there’s three things we don’t underpay for in life? Drugs, pussy, and alcohol,” I point out, knowin’ for a fact it was Judge.
He cackles lightly and nods, gets up from his chair, and folds it down. I do the same to mine and we both head over to where Gamble and Hart are. “Hey, we’re gonna go grab a drink. We’ll toss the chairs in the back of Judge’s truck and catch ya back at the club.”
“Sure, just be careful. We’re really close to Lewes and I’m worried they’re gonna turn up at any minute,” Gamble says, her eyes looking past the two of us.
“If they do, we’ll handle it. The two of us gotta change anyway. I got my goods in the truck if you know what I mean,” I tell them. Now, I’d never bring a gun onto a beach, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have my shit in the truck if I need it. You can never be too prepared in life.
“I’m following. Enjoy your night, both of you,” Gamble says and waves her hand in dismissal. She’ll be leaving the beach in a few minutes anyway.
I tighten my grip around the aluminum chair and lead the way back to the truck. Judge follows close behind and once we’re up the stairs, we cross the boardwalk, and the truck is parked in an alley. I toss my chair in the bed and click the unlock button on the remote. By the time Judge puts his chair in the back, I already have the door open and I’m throwin’ on a gray t-shirt.
Before we left the club, I threw a pair of black jeans in a duffle bag with a light gray t-shirt and my cut. I glance around lookin’ for a bathroom within sight but don’t see one. Fuck it. I kick off my sandals and pull down my trunks, lettin’ my balls hit the breeze.
“Oh, hello there,” a woman’s sultry voice says as she’s walkin’ by with a couple of her friends. They’re all smiles, but I’m sure they are after seein’ a dick of my size. Maybe I should stop them and offer it up. Hell, they might take a ride or two on it.
Judge looks over and covers his eyes up immediately. “What the fuck, man?! You tryin’ to get arrested for indecent exposure?”
By the time he finishes asking his question, I’m zipping my jeans and sliding my belt through the hooks. “Now, that would be the highlight of my week. It’s been a bit boring around here, hasn’t it?” I look over to Judge, and he’s shakin’ his head, not able to put up with me right now.
I toss the sandals in the duffle bag, pull out my socks and boots and finish getting changed. Lastly, I slide my cut on and turn around to find Judge isn’t anywhere in sight.
Well, I guess he got bored of waitin’ around for me. I look around the street and don’t really see anywhere he could’ve gone. Hell, if I
’d seen a restroom sign, I would’ve changed there, not flashed my goods to all of Rehoboth.
A flash of copperish brown hair pulls my attention to the boardwalk, and I have to blink a couple of times, but by the time I resonate with who, I believe I just saw she’s gone.
I dig into my jeans pocket and click the lock button on Judge’s truck, walk up to the boardwalk and follow where I last saw her. Thank goodness the guy gave me his extra set of keys.
She doesn’t look the same at all, but I swear it’s her, or maybe a doppelgänger. I don’t know where the fuck Judge is, but I’m not lookin’ to stick around. If it’s really her, I want to get closer. I spot another flash of the copperish brown hair and round the alley where she just walked down. I stick close to the corner of the building, hiding most of my body and I’m sure I look like a real creeper.
She walks down the alley and heads over to a bike. The guy’s too far off for me to get a good look at him, but the emblem on his cut is easily visible from here. She’s going up to the Beasts of Brutality MC.
She turns her head to look at me, and I get confirmation.
Marisole is here.
She’s in Delaware.
I take a step back and inhale sharply just as Judge comes up, fully changed. “Where the hell did you go, man?”
“I could ask you the same fuckin’ thing,” I snap. Pushing past him, I head back toward the beach.
Gamble’s still in her chair and I waste no time making my way down to her. Walkin’ on the sand with combat boots on is fuckin’ stupid as shit, but I need to tell her about this.
“Prez, we got a problem,” I tell Gamble, and she immediately turns to look at me.
“Alright.”
“Beasts of Brutality were just here.”
Wait on Me (Knights of Retribution MC Book 2) Page 2