Seize Me

by Crystal Spears

  “Angel,” I say.

  Her eyes snap to mine. My blood runs cold when I see there is no life in her eyes. She’s empty, and she looks just as murderous as I feel. She’s naked, hanging from the ceiling, blood dripping from her face, her chest and between her legs. They’ve fucking carved her like a Thanksgiving turkey. My mind plays out millions of ways I want to kill Snake, but when Angel starts rambling on and on, I listen to her cracked voice and put my revenge on hold.

  “You know they used a condom. They raped me, and they used a condom. How funny is that shit? And what is up with this? They think I needed a matching scar or something. I guess even Angels can’t be perfect, huh? I mean I never had one scar on my body. Pretty incredible to go twenty-two years without a scar, but here I am. Bleeding from every pore on my body. Oh yeah and PP raped me too. I don’t know for how long because I was passed out, but yeah he did. Oh and PP and Christina are brother and sister. Yep, that’s right; they’re Snake’s spawns.” She takes a deep breath, and I can tell she’s done.

  I take my knife and cut the ropes, catching her as she falls. I’m still trying to process this scene and the info she just rambled off no doubt from shock, but now I just wanna get her back to the clubhouse so Doc can take care of her. I also want to beat the shit outta something and cry my fucking eyes out like a little fucking kid because my Angel was violated and it’s all my fault. Yeah, I’m a grown man that wants to cry. That doesn’t make me a pussy; that makes me fucking human. My woman was just beaten to within an inch of her life. Raped enough for me to see the damage just by one look and carved up like a damn pumpkin. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I deserve a free pass, and I’m pretty sure my Angel deserves a medal because she’s not even crying.

  “Get me outta here, Brax,” she mumbles into my chest.

  “Let me find something to wrap you up in.”

  “No! I just wanna go,” she whispers loudly.

  “At least take my cut, Winter,” I say leaning her body against mine as I slip my arms out. After I remove my cut, I slowly and carefully slip her arms through while she wobbles against me.

  “Up you go, gorgeous,” I mumble as I pick her up.

  “They really screwed me up didn’t they,” she croaks as I walk her up the stairs.

  I almost stumble up the last step when she asks that. It’s as if she doesn’t know how she’s doing right now. And that both freaks me out and pisses me off. I decide not to answer her. Because the truth is, they did a number on my Angel, and I don’t want to remind her with words that they did. She has enough of a reminder.

  “Prez, this bitch.” ZZ motions his gun at Christina’s head.

  Winter lifts off my chest and looks at Christina. She holds out her hand, her gaze going to Snipers. Her weak arm moves around in the air until he sighs, handing her a gun. What the fuck does she think she’s going to do with that? And how does he know what she wants?

  Her fingers grip the gun, and she takes aim. “What were those words you said right before I was taken?” she croaks, and Christina’s eyes widen. “Oh yeah. Goodbye bitch.” She forces a laugh while pulling the trigger, splattering Christina’s brains on the wall behind her.

  “Thanks Sniper,” she whispers handing the gun back.

  “Burn this place to the ground,” I say to Pyro and Smokey.

  Winter didn’t say a damn thing on the way back to the club. I held her wrapped in my arms the whole way back. I tried not squeezing her tightly to me. I was afraid I might hurt her more than what she already was. I felt like growling when the Doc lifted her from my arms and took her up to my apartment. He brought along his son who was also a doctor, and because my Angel was so torn up, I allowed him to treat her. He’s a good-looking dude, and he’s about to clean up my Angel. It pissed me off that I couldn’t fix her myself, but I didn’t know the first thing about medicine. For the first time, I didn’t want to have the Doc under my payroll. I wanted to take Angel to the damn hospital, but she’s running from her father. The last thing she wanted was to reveal her last name. Lana is screaming at Pyro. The Doc won’t let her up in the room, and Lana is pissed. I give him a pointed look that he had better get her quieted because I just called a Chapel meeting. I need all my brothers right now. It’s time for revenge.

  I’m sitting at the head of the table bouncing my foot while I chain smoke, waiting for everyone to walk in. The last one to enter is Phil. The old slug. I would grin if I could, but I can’t. I’ve never been so violently pissed in all my life. I knock the gavel and blow out smoke.

  “First order of business; Sniper, get rid of the gun Angel used to whack Christina with. No chances that the fire didn’t do its job. I won’t have this shit ending back at our doorstep. She’s been through enough.”

  I growl. “When I found Angel, she was spouting off. The only thing that worried her was making sure I knew who was behind this shit. PP is a traitor. He’s Snake’s son.”

  The brothers start cursing and slamming their fists down. “That’s not all. Christina was also Snake’s daughter. So once he figures out she’s dead… shits going to get going and fast. PP raped Angel; I don’t know why we didn’t see him. He must’ve left before we got there. I want that motherfucker’s head,” I say seriously.

  I take a deep breath. “Snake took… Jesus….” I rub my jaw. “Snake raped Angel’s ass.”

  I butt my cigarette in the ashtray, lean my elbows on the table, and run my hands through my hair. Fuck, I can’t handle this shit.

  “I’ve had her for one fucking week. One week and I didn’t protect her, brothers. This shit is weighing on my mind. She was trying to stay away. Her father is a fucking Belov. I mean she knew she didn’t wanna be in this world, and I fucking pushed her.”

  I’m a relentless fucking bastard. That’s what I am. I wanted her. I took her, and look what happened.

  “Prez… this shit isn’t your fault. Christina and PP were here right under our noses. We’ll get Angel’s revenge. We will take it,” Samuel growls.

  “Fuck,” I roar. “Find PP first. After PP, we’ll deal with Snake. I’m gonna gut that bastard, but unlike his two attempted fails, I’ll succeed.”

  “She’s not gonna be the woman that hooked you a week ago, not after this shit. Prez, you need to deal with that right here,” Pyro points to his chest.

  “You think I don’t fucking know that? She fucking murdered Christina in cold blood. Angel from last week wouldn’t have done that shit.”

  There’s a knock on the door and Sniper gets up and cracks it open revealing the Doc. He opens the door all the way and motions for him to come in before he closes it.

  “Braxxon… you want everyone to hear this?” he asks seriously.

  “Yes.”

  “Alright then. She has multiple tears in her anus. She needed eight stitches on that wound. The vaginal tears weren’t as severe as the anus, but she will have scar tissue. It’ll be at least eight weeks until she’s healed sufficiently enough for any sexual intercourse, if she’s willing to be touched. She’s going to have severe mental damage from what she went through in those few hours, but she’s a strong young woman, so she’ll find a way to deal with it. The wound to her chest took twenty-nine stitches. I was able to butterfly the smallest of areas. She was told that condoms were used. She admitted to passing out when one of your prospects knocked her out cold. After that, she doesn’t know what happened. I gave her some antibiotics for the main STD’s that usually occur from rape. I’ve also gave her an emergency contraceptive drug to prevent unwanted pregnancy. She’s also on another antibiotic to prevent infection to her wounds. My son is up there now finishing the smallest tasks. Her collarbone was dislocated, so we popped it back into place. I’ve put Winter on morphine. I didn’t want her on hydrocodone. I would rather she heal as comfortable as possible, so a stronger drug was needed. I’ve put her on Klonopin for the anxiety she will most likely experience. You need to watch her on all of these prescriptions. She mentioned that she can’t pick up refills fr
om a pharmacy.”

  Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t even know what to say with all this shit he’s spewing out.

  “Ah yeah, she’s running from a bad past, Doc,” Sniper answers for me.

  “Well then. I’ll be back in two weeks with some refills. I’m serious Braxxon; watch her usage with these drugs. If she doesn’t feel like taking all of them, just make sure she takes the antibiotics. The rest is up to her. I’ll do another exam to check out the healing progress when I return with the refills.”

  I trust Doc; he was a close friend of my pops. I get up, shake his hand, and pat him on the back before he excuses himself to check on Angel before he and his son leave.

  “I’m so sorry, Prez,” ZZ says, and the rest of the brothers follow.

  “So there we have it, yeah? Find PP, I want his damn head! Pyro deal with Lana; I want peace and quiet for Angel.”

  I walk over and slam the gavel down before I head out. I need to see my Angel. My need for revenge is off the charts fucking high, but Angel is at the top of my priority list.

  When I open the door to my apartment, Doc and his son are walking to the door to leave.

  “Take care of her,” Doc says and I nod as he shuts the door behind them.

  Winter is lying on her side, her arm in a sling from the dislocated collarbone. One of her eyes is still swollen, but the look in her undamaged eye is vacant. I walk slowly to the bed, drop to my knees, and wrap her hands in mine as I let my head drop to the bed. There are two emotions running high inside my chest right now. One I don’t wanna talk about, and the other is guilt. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt guilty about something. If I had just listened to her, and left her alone, she wouldn’t be like this right now.

  “Brax,” she whispers. “Thank you for finding me. I’m gonna go to sleep now.”

  I suck in a breath. She’s thanking me when it’s all my fault in the first place, but here she is thanking me. Her breathing goes steady, and I pick up my head and just stare at her. She’s so beautiful. I unlace my hands from hers and run my fingers across her swollen face. That morphine knocked her out cold. I lean up and press my lips gently to hers before I stand. I turn the fan on for her and walk to my bathroom. I lift the bloody shirt over my head and toss it in the wastebasket. I grip the sink hard, my knuckles turning white as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Today the scar that runs across my chest looks redder, and that day starts haunting me as it reflects back at me.

  “Your father took everything from me,” the stranger hisses at me before pulling out a long knife. “Now… I’m going to take everything from him”

  I don’t understand what this stranger is saying. What did my father do to him? Why does he want to hurt me?

  “Has your father ever took you hunting boy?”

  I gulp trying to figure out what’s about to happen. One minute I’m riding my mini bike and the next I’m inside a truck bed.

  “No sir,” I stutter.

  “Well that’s a shame, son. I was hoping you knew what it was like to gut something.” The stranger chuckles.

  Oh, shit. My eyes widen as he comes at me with the knife. I’m frozen. Paralyzed with fear as the blade inches closer. It digs into my skin and starts slicing through my flesh, and I scream. Fuck do I scream.

  I shake my head out of the past. Fuck! I want to scream; I want to fucking kill something. I look out the doorway and peer at my sleeping Angel. I vow that I’ll make this right for her, and I mean it this time. I take a quick shower drying off before climbing in bed careful not to wake her or disturb anything that might hurt.

  I let the exhaustion take me, and I fall fast asleep after lightly wrap my feet with hers underneath the sheet. I need to feel her, and if this is the only way, I’ll take it.

  I wake feeling alone, and I reach over, touch the pillow where Angel’s head was laying, and find it empty. I jump up and scramble putting jeans on almost falling over. I don’t even button them as I jog downstairs. I find her sitting in the community room next to a stunned Lana. Angel is bent over snorting a line. I breathe out relieved I’ve found her, but I gulp because Angel isn’t a druggie. She’s done a few lines, but she’s not a drug fiend. I walk over and place my hand on her shoulder, and she flinches, and I jerk back cursing myself. Shit. When she looks up at me, I’m glad the swelling has gone down on her face, but the look her gold gaze is giving me seizes my entire body. It feels like forever goes by before she releases me, bends down, and snorts another. I look over at Lana and see tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Yeah, I feel you Lana. I feel it. I take a seat next to Angel, and she drops the straw and leans into my side.

  “How you feeling, baby?” I ask her as I stroke her uninjured arm.

  “Like I’ve been gutted alive,” she murmurs, and that answer causes me to flinch. “I can’t even wear a bra or panties. I’m so going commando.” She tries to make a joke of it.

  I don’t find it funny at all, so I say absolutely nothing. Sniper, ZZ and Pyro walk into the room and nod. I kiss Angel’s head, ease away from her, and stand.

  “I’ll be in the Chapel if you need me, baby.”

  “I’ll always need you, Braxxon,” she whispers.

  Christ! I bend down and place both my hands on her cheeks softly as I stare into those beautiful gold eyes. “I’m glad to hear that, Angel.” Then I press my lips to hers.

  “I’m glad to hear that, Angel,” he whispers before pressing his lips to mine. I wish I had both arms because I would wrap them around his neck and never let go. I should hate him for everything that happened, but I can’t. It’s not his fault. He didn’t tell Snake, PP and the stranger to hurt me. I’ll cope and deal with things in my own way. It’s all I can do. Yeah, I’m even more screwed up in the head, but that’s okay because I survived. He found me and life goes on.

  “I’m gonna party with the muffler bunnies,” I say seriously as he pulls away. “I need to get fucked up.”

  I look at him hoping he understands my need to do this to myself. I need an outlet. I need moments where everything disappears, and my mind is too foggy to remember.

  “No morphine then.”

  “No morphine.” I agree. He’s worried about me mixing things.

  Braxxon walks towards the Chapel, and I look over at Lana who has tears dripping out of her eyes.

  “Lana, I’ll be okay. I swear it.” I try to reassure her.

  “I know. I’m just gonna go to bed; it’s getting late. You had a rough day, and you need more rest too; promise you’ll get more?”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll be in that stupid slam room if you need me,” she whispers standing up slowly. She’s still healing from being shot.

  “Not Pyro’s room?”

  “No,” she yells. “Look I’m sorry. It’s just this is all my fault and all because I wanted him. If I didn’t ask you to do that stupid gig. This wouldn’t have happened to you.”

  “No Lana, this isn’t your fault. Please don’t think that way,” I cry.

  Oh god.

  “I’m just gonna go to bed.”

  That’s it. When Lana makes up her mind, it’s made up for good. She’s gonna blame herself for this forever, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “I love you,” I say as she walks away.

  “I love you too.” And she’s gone.

  Moments later an older woman comes and sits next to me. I’ve seen her around cooking and cleaning and never introduced myself. Now that I think about it, I haven’t introduced myself to anyone.

  “How you doin’, dear?” she asks, handing me a cup of tea.

  Obviously she’s an ol’ lady, so I need to be polite.

  “Not great,” I say taking a sip of the tea. It tastes remarkably delicious. Nice and sweet just how I like my tea. I usually drink tea when I’m sad. So the fact she brought me hot tea immediately draws me into conversation comfortably with her.

  “By the way, I’m Berry. I’m Phil’s wife or ol’ lady,” she chuckl
es.

  “Berry?”

  “Long story short, I’m old as dirt hunny, and when berry lip gloss came out, I was addicted. So the guys started calling me Berry; sometimes I forget my given name is Gertha. So please, call me Berry. Gertha is just hideous.”

  Oh my god. Gertha, really?

  “That is horrible.” I laugh and cough as my skin pulls at my chest.

  “Not telling me anything. Those kids I grew up with were awful.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize and mean it.

  “Think nothing of it dear.” She pats my leg.

  “I had a question maybe you could answer for me?”

  “Ask away.” She smiles.

  “The club’s on lockdown and I know the families are here, but I barely see the kids.”

  “The basement is like a family center. It’s got a kitchen, bathroom, and game room, even bunk beds. Everything you need to entertain children. It keeps them out of club business and away from harm. Pop built that years ago, and as the years pass, it gets upgraded. We just usually keep the grandbabies; the only one that followed club footsteps is my son ZZ. The rest of the guys had all girls and well, they moved on and married and now we have eight grandbabies. We just like to keep them safe; it gives our daughters peace of mind while the club is going through mayhem.”