by Ryan Michele
Pain shoots up my leg, and I cry out trying to keep myself in the field and not in the present. It’s difficult. I hold on to the wind. I hold on to the place where no one can reach me. I hold on to the green of the grass. There is no pain here, in my mind, that is.
Burning between my legs has my hips shifting to get away from it, and something hard comes down on them preventing it. Sweat drips down on to my body from above.
Fists attack me.
Hands touch me.
Bodies lay on top of me.
Things are pressed inside of me.
I’m unable to move.
All I can do is endure.
I can’t do this anymore is the last thing I think before darkness overtakes me.
Slowly my eyes open. I’m disoriented and in excruciating pain. I can’t do this anymore. That memory floats through my consciousness as tears roll down my eyes. There’s no one in Buck’s room, and daylight comes from the window.
I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I’m naked and my body shows so many more marks. There are even some wide cuts that I need to bandage up. Only for a moment do I wonder what they did to me, then I push it down. Some things are best left alone. I learned a long time ago not to ask questions I’m not prepared for the answer to. In my mind, I have separated the moments. Going back there will do me no good and only bring me pain.
I can’t live like this.
Even on the streets with no roof, no money, and completely alone is better than this. Better than having men touch me any way they like and physically hurt me.
This has to end, and I have two options. One, get the phone and call Nox, but that has a shit load of risks to it.
Two, end myself.
The second would be the easiest for everyone involved.
If I call Nox, it’ll come down to me being able to get out of here undetected, which is difficult, but not impossible. Then Nox will be involved, and Buck and his friends will go after Nox.
I can’t do that to Nox. He deserves so much better than me and the problems that surround me.
Option two it is.
Slowly and painfully, I get myself out of the bed and make my way to the bathroom. Inside the medicine cabinet is one of Buck’s blades from his razor, and I pull it out.
Maybe I should do this in the bathtub so Buck doesn’t have to clean it up. Why am I thinking like this? He should clean it up!
My reflection stares back at me in the mirror, last night’s makeup either streaked down my face or worn completely off. Black and blue marks cover me from the neck up, and full handprints around my neck appear that someone tried to choke me.
Too bad he didn’t succeed.
Placing the blade at my wrist near the vein, my hand shakes. Quick. One deep cut to the right vein and done. Tears stream down my eyes as I place the tip of the blade at the vein.
You can’t do this. Echoes through my mind in my mother’s voice twisting everything in my head.
Just do it!
Thoughts war with each other with no clear answer.
I press the tip harder, and a very small trickle of blood escapes. Fast!
Closing my eyes, I begin to press.
The door to the room crashes open as do my eyes, and the blade drops into the sink. Turning quickly, Buck stands there then slams the door behind him.
“You go nowhere today,” he says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the bathroom and onto the bed. “You passed out last night, and my friends didn’t get their fill. Wash your fucking face and be ready.”
His hand cracks against my cheekbone as I cry out. “Stupid bitch. Can’t even lay there with her legs open,” he grunts, looking down on me with disgust. I curl into a ball even as my body screams and yells at me to stop. A fist comes to my back as a shock races up my spine. “Big Jim will get you tonight.”
Buck spits his words and walks out of the room.
Tears cover my face and run to the sheets.
Laying here in despair isn’t going to help, and obviously my tremulous feelings about ending my own life aren’t going to work.
Only one other thing. Nox.
Time is my enemy now, and I have to get moving before Buck finds out what I’m planning. It has to go undetected and there are so many people around this place, I can’t just walk out the front door.
Using every bit of energy and willpower, I’m able to get up from the bed and move to lock the door. I’d rather get in trouble for locking the door than have anyone catch me getting the phone.
Tossing on a shirt and some jeans carefully, the bookshelf stares at me. It’s covered with different books and isn't light. Lifting, I’m unable to move it.
“Come on,” I grunt, and it shifts just a little. A book falls out to the floor and I still, waiting just a moment to hear someone outside the door. No one comes and I try again, shifting it a bit more. On the fifth try my body screams, but I’m able to move it far enough to pull up the board.
My hand reaches in finding nothing. “No.” Did Buck find it? Did he know that I had it? How? Panic hits me hard, my heart rate speeding up so fast it could bounce out of my chest.
Feeling around more, cold metal touches my fingertips and I breathe. It’s here. The phone is here.
Sitting on the floor, I turn on the phone making sure the ringer is on quiet. It feels like forever for the little thing to boot up, each second feeling like an hour. Once it’s finally on, I hit the number one and hold it for a moment.
The call goes through and I hold it up to my ear, unsure.
“Carsyn?” he answers, and I’m filled with both dread and relief.
It takes me a moment to talk. “Yeah. Swear to me you won’t tell anyone.”
“You have my word.”
“I need to get out of here.”
“Do you have anywhere to be today?”
My eyes keep darting to the door. “No. He says I can’t leave today.”
“Fuck. Guess we’ll do this old school.”
“What?”
“I’ll be in front of your place in fifteen minutes. Get your ass outside by any means. If that means starting a fire in one of the rooms to occupy their time, do it. Any means.”
“Right,” I whisper, not knowing if I’ll be able to even walk outside let alone start a fire.
How the hell am I going to do this?
Shoving the bookshelf back just a bit, I move as fast as my legs will take me, out the door and down the hall. Keeping my head down, people are talking, but everyone leaves me alone except for the callouts.
The kitchen is well lit, and I only have one shot at this. If it doesn’t work and Buck catches me, I’m as good as dead. But this is the furthest room from the back door and that’s where I’m going out.
You can do this.
If I do the fire, it can’t catch too fast or they’ll know it’s me and come after me first.
God, my body aches. Get out of here, then you can rest.
Fire. What can I use to start one that gives me a bit of time to get out of the room quickly. Thinking hard, my mind comes up blank, but I keep pushing. Come on, Carsyn!
A battery. I saw it on a television show, but I can’t remember what it was about. The only thing that sticks out is putting a battery on top of the lit stove. It will take it a bit, enough time for me to get out, and then it will catch fire.
Quietly, I open up the small drawers looking for a battery. Two drawers in, there are none. Shit.
In the next one over by the sink, I open it rapidly sifting through the items. Frustration sets in, and I look up to the ceiling. If not a battery, then what.
My eyes settle on a flashlight and hope blossoms. Grabbing the red thing and twisting off the bottom of the lid, relief fills me when a C battery falls out into my hand.
Moving to the stove, I set the battery in the middle of the burner and crank it up on high. Without any time to lose, I get a move on.
I walk slowly back to Buck’s room because that’s where I�
�m supposed to be. Going in, I put on a pair of tennis shoes and grab the little metal box, toss the phone inside, clutching it to my chest. It’s the only piece of my mother I have left, and I’m not leaving it here with him. He’s had enough of me, he doesn’t get this too.
My heart thumps erratically, and I have to remember to breathe because my body has forgotten. The adrenaline begins pumping and though my body hurts, I feed off of that rush. There is only one chance for me. It’s either I get out now or Buck finds out, and I’ll be close to dead.
A loud commotion comes from the hallway, and I take my shot. Going the opposite way down the hallway, I turn the corner to the door I used to meet Nox the first time. That time the music was so loud no one could hear the buzzing when it opened or closed.
As fast as possible, I charge through the door helping it shut to stop the noise. Someone heard that. There’s no doubt in my mind. It’ll be a matter of time before they make it down here.
Running proves hard, but I force it. I’m so close, and I hear a motorcycle just over the gate. Shit. Just a little more.
Cutting through the yard, there is a small hole through the exterior gate wall where an exit vent used to be. It’s small and I’m not sure I’ll get through it, but I’ll damn well try. I push the metal box through and hear it clank on the ground.
“Hey!”
I hear as one of the guys opens the back door I just exited. Fuck. Arms first, head then torso, I wiggle and push half my body outside, half inside. My hips are too wide and won’t fit through the gap. Twisting doesn’t help, I’m stuck.
Dread fills me as I see Nox pull up. Hands grip my ankles and start pulling me back inside as terror like no other rips through me. Nox jumps off of his bike, grabs my hands, and pulls me hard, my hips scraping against the concrete blocks as he pulls me through the small opening.
I cry out in pain, but I’m so grateful to be on the other side of the wall.
“Hurry!” he calls out, clasping my hand as I grip the metal box with the other. He hops on his bike and I try to get my leg over, the pain becoming too much, but I manage. My tears rush down like a waterfall and then I hear the gate creak open.
“They’re coming out.”
He fires up the bike as shots begin firing. Nox pulls out a gun and fires back as I grip around him, the metal box between us. A gunshot hits the metal of the bike, and I scream feeling Nox’s body tense. He says something, but I can’t hear him.
He takes a corner hard, and the gunfire ceases.
Looking behind us, no one is there.
I breathe out deep.
Did I really do it?
Did I manage to get out?
I did it.
I got out. Got away from Buck. I’m so floored that it worked.
Now what?
7
Nox
A metal box presses into my back as I twist the throttle and push the bike into the distance. No one is behind us as we weave through the streets. Carsyn’s leg trembles besides mine, no doubt scared as hell. But she called and that’s the first step to getting her safe.
Getting close to Sumner, we pull up to an old warehouse and I cut the bike.
“Hop off.”
She hesitates. “Nox, I don’t know if I can.”
It’s then that I take a look at Carsyn and rage boils in my veins. I’m going to fucking kill him. She’s beat to hell, and it must’ve been her final straw. Either way, she’s out. Now, to keep her out.
“I’m going to help your leg over, and we need to hurry. There are a shit ton of security cams around here that will show we came in here.”
As easily as I can I lift her leg, and she manages to get off. She doubles over in pain. I unlock the door swiftly, pick Carsyn up, and put her inside on a chair. Tears stream from her eyes. “Hang in there.”
It kills me that she’s in pain and I’ll help her as much as I can, but our safety has to come first. No matter how much it pisses me off or hurts to see her like this, for this moment it must be pushed to the back burner so I can get her out of here safely.
She nods as I get my bike in and locked in the small compartment in the side of the building. Ravage uses this for lots of things. Today, we’re using it as a way to get out undetected. Going into the storage closet, I grab a backpack opening it up wide. Inside sits cash, IDs, gun with ammo, keys and a phone. I sling it over my back and make my way back to Carsyn.
“I’m gonna pick you up, and we’re movin’ fast. Okay?”
“Where are we goin’?”
“To get you safe.”
My arms lift her lightweight body, in need of some meat on her bones. Fuck. I hate that motherfucker and the shell he’s left her in.
We make our way to the back of the warehouse, and I maneuver to open the door. Darkness surrounds us as I climb the stairs taking great care to not miss a damn step.
“Nox, what’s going on?” The panic in her voice does something inside of me. Anger isn’t even the word for it. I’m not sure what words would work.
“Hang tight. Trust me.”
She gives a small chuckle that seems forced. “I’m not big on trusting anyone.”
“You’ll learn, my family and I, we have loyalty in our veins.”
She quiets as I flip the switch turning the underground lights on. The tunnel is dark and damp, but it serves its purpose.
Carsyn’s body flinches every so often and I don’t want to hurt her, but we have to get out of here. I should’ve called my brothers to come with me, but I feared if I did, she wouldn’t have left with me. Then she asked me not to tell anyone, confirming my initial thoughts.
We move through the tunnel, my arms beginning to strain, but there’s no way she’s walking this. Climbing up a set of stairs, I open the door. We’re in a second place that’s three blocks away from the first. There’s a nice four door Chevy Impala sitting ready to be used with unmarked plates.
“I’m setting you on your feet for a sec.”
“Okay.” She trembles and reaches for my arm to help hold her up. Moving quickly, I get the car unlocked, opening the back door.
“I want you to get in here and lay down for a while. I’m going to get a blanket from the trunk and cover you up. I’ll turn the air all the way up so you don’t burn up, but we have to make you disappear.”
On a small nod, she climbs into the car. She’s shaking so damn bad from the pain that I hope there are some meds in the trunk. It’s been a long damn time since we needed an escape plan, and I’m not sure it’s been restocked in a while.
The trunk pops open. There are several things inside, but I grab the blanket and the bag with the first aid cross on it. If there’s anything it would be in there.
Swiftly, I cover Carsyn, jump in the car, and crank up the air conditioning. The first aid bag has a few things, but nothing that’s going to last. “Can you take pills without water?” Note to self, put fucking water in here.
“No,” she croaks.
“Meds will have to wait.”
She groans, but I hit the switch to the rollup door inside of the car and we’re off.
We drive until we pass Savannah and cross over into South Carolina. Halfway through, Carsyn took the blanket off, but didn’t move from her spot. Checking on her every so often, she slept which is exactly what she needs.
As soon as word got out that shots were fired at the Rangers, the calls from my brothers started. I just gave word to Ryker I needed a few days and I was safe. I wasn’t about to drag them into this. I gave Carsyn my word I wouldn’t tell anyone. I’ll deal with my family later. Since, I take off regularly, needing space, they didn’t think anything of it. But I do have a run with Jacks coming up in a few days that I need to be at.
I pull us off at a hotel. “I’m going to get us a room. Hang tight.”
The bright lights shine in the building as I pull out my wallet along with a fake ID and credit card. Places anymore don’t let you stay in them if you don’t have a damn card they can put o
n file. The ones I have will never trace back to me.
“Will that be two queens or a king, sir?”
“Two Queens.”
The young kid runs through all the necessities, and I look one more time at my ID so I know what name to write on the slip. Scribbling it across, he hands me the key.
“Thanks.”
Darting outside and into the car, Carsyn sits in the backseat staring at the place. “It’ll be fine.”
She gives me a small nod as I drive around the building. There’s a back entrance, and that’s where we park.
“Let’s get you up and laying down.”
“Nox, I’ve laid the entire trip.” Her eyes gleam in the rearview mirror. She is still terrified.
She leans on me as we make our way to the room. The burst of cold air hit us, and we suck it in. Carsyn takes the bed furthest from the door and surprisingly doesn’t make much noise when she sits on the bed, still holding that metal box. It must mean something great to her.
Opening the first aid kit, I kneel before her. “Need you to take your shirt off so I can see if anything needs stitched.
“You sure that’s the only reason?”
A smirk comes over my lips. “Are you teasing me, Carsyn?”
She looks down, embarrassed. Fingers under her chin, our eyes connect.
“This is a good thing,” I reassure her. The strength to bounce back and find any moment of reprieve after what she’s been through is a sign of the woman under the bruises. A woman who refuses to break.
She nods just a touch. “I’m not sure what it’s going to look like under there.”
“I’m prepared,” I say, knowing it’s going to be hard.
The statement isn’t completely true. While physically I am fine, emotionally when she removes her shirt, more than anger flows through my veins. It’s a rage so powerful it almost knocks me on my ass.
“There. How bad is it?” she asks, looking down at her body. There are marks over a lot of her torso and only a couple that look deep, but it’s crusted over enough that it’s not bleeding. The color of her skin is despicable. Purple, blue, green, yellow and some black cover her skin like war tattoos instead of her normal ones. There is barely any skin untouched. Her side piece is a beautiful feather angling up the curve of her body. Birds fly out of the feather skating further up her side, but with the marks on her skin it’s not vibrant like I’m sure it normally is. All of it pissing me off even more.