by Turner, Xyla
“Goddamn, man. If you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” They finished their embrace. “Heard you’re doing great things over in Manor. Fucking great things for the entire east coast chapter.”
“Brother, I’m living.” Razor had both of his hands on his shoulders. “Need to introduce you to someone.”
“Fuck,” the man peered from around Razor. “Is this you?”
“Yeah,” Razor answered with a sweet smile. “She’s mine.”
He motioned for me to come over to him. “This is Kylie, my lady.”
“Well, goddamn. She’s fucking beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I said, while Razor answered, “I know.”
Shaking my head, the man pulled me in for a hug. “Name’s Regal. Pleased to meet ya darlin’.”
“Likewise,” I replied.
“Let me get a picture of you two for the wall. The last one we have is almost ten years old.”
I moved away from Razor and said, “I don’t have to be in the picture.”
He grabbed my hand and snapped me to him, growling, “Get your ass over here and take the picture with me.”
Placing me in front of him, his right hand grabbed the top of my tank top and pulled it down. Not far enough to reveal anything, but enough to show ownership. I did not care; it was sexy as shit. He moved my hair to one side of the head and the guy snapped several shots. When he was done, Razor squeezed one of my breasts and said, “That picture will start the beginning of our album.”
Oh my God.
“Man, everybody is in there. Pete too. I’m ‘bout to head out. The old lady got a big meal planned for my boy. Thanks for helping him with that job out in Brooklyn.”
“Anytime, man.” We headed for the steel door hand-in-hand.
As soon as we walked through, everybody stopped and stared.
Okay.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
Then a frenzy erupted with shouts of, “Razor, Ahh, Raz, what the fuck, goddamn, fucking Razor.”
If his name was Norm, I would have felt like we were in a TV episode of Cheers.
Men, one by one, came to give him a half-hug and a few slaps on the back. I swear the entire place came to acknowledge him. He held my hand the entire time, and when we made our way to the back, I saw a bearded older guy with grey hair and wearing a cut that read President. This must have been Pete.
The man smiled bright and got up to greet Razor.
“Razor, Razor.” The man said with a jovial tone.
“Pete.” They slapped each other on the back and held their embrace for a lot longer than the rest.
“Been awhile.”
“Yeah, just obeying orders.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” The older man nodded his head as he sat back down.
“Guess so.” Razor sat down next to the man and said, “Want you to meet someone.”
“That beauty over there?”
Razor pulled me towards him and sat me on his lap.
“Yeah, this is Kylie. My lady."
"Must be the one, I gather."
"That she is." Razor nodded. "Mine."
"Good. That's good to hear son." The older man smiled at me. "Good to hear."
"What's new?" Razor asked.
"Same shit, different toilet." He replied. "Skinny got hitched. Log has moved up, and I'm getting to old for this shit."
"Nah," Razor laughed. "You the O.B. The Original Biker!"
My eyebrows squeezed together. These guys were about to talk biker shit, so I tapped Razor on the arm and said, "I'm going to go to the restroom. Okay?"
He nodded and pointed towards the back. I noticed there were only a few women around but they were occupied with other bikers. I bent down and kissed him on the lips, and then whispered, "You're my home. I'm not going on the road again. I'm staying home."
His eyes grew wide, and he tried to grab me, but I evaded him and laughed as I walked away. I heard their President say, "Oh, yeah. You're gone."
"Told you," Razor laughed. "Got me by the fucking balls."
I found the restroom with no problem, and just as I opened the door, everything went black.
On my watch
Razor:
As I caught up with Pete, he shared some good and disturbing news. The old man wasn't playing when he said he was getting too old for this shit. He was ready to give up the gavel, and he was looking at several guys to come in and take his place. He knew I was the district President, so he also wanted my thoughts. Shit, he set me up for that job. He technically didn't have to get a President if the district one assumed some of the major responsibilities.
Knowing that I had Kylie in my life and rooting her in a permanent way, I quickly declined that. Pete said he knew that when he saw our hands linked. I'd never brought a woman to see him, let alone introduced him to. A chick might have been at the bar but never in the vicinity of my president.
Kylie took a long time to come back. Almost ten minutes. An eerie feeling came over me as I immediately thought the worse.
"Do your bathrooms work?" I asked.
"Yeah, they workin'," Pete answered.
"I'll be back."
I stood up and walked to the bathroom. There were no gender-designated bathrooms since this was a biker compound. Therefore, mostly men used the room and there was no need for other accommodations. So that was passed on to the ladies who demanded they needed their own restroom.
Wait!
She wasn't in there.
I quickly searched the area, and there were no signs of her. Nowhere. Trying to remain calm, I stepped outside and still saw nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was in place. Except my lady.
Coming back into the compound, I searched the entire area again. Pete must have seen that something was off because he was headed my way.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“Gone.” My hands ran through my hair. “He fucking took her!”
Without me elaborating, the old man knew me long enough to know. Something was wrong and what the next course of action needed to be. Pete held up his one hand and just like always, the music stopped and everyone came to a standstill.
“Lieutenants, to the base,” Pete announced just as calmly and put his hand on my back to move me out of the room.
There was some murmuring, but around ten guys made their way out of the door to cross over to the next warehouse.
When we were just outside the base, Pete started barking orders. “Fuzz, call the Manor base and get Razor’s VP’s and lieutenants over here now! Let them know his lady is missing, and they’ll know what to bring. Get Dean on the phone as well.”
“Got to go,” I started to walk away.
“No. You got to be smart.” Pete was giving me his President’s voice, so I knew he meant business. “Let us help you with this. Your guys are coming. Tell us everything you know, and I’ll get Lift to track it. You know he’s the best.”
He was right. I knew it, and so did he. We’d been here before. Search and rescue. Sometimes they were ugly, and sometimes they were simple. Now it was me in need. She was mine and she was gone.
I was stunned into silence because anything that came from my mouth would turn into a roar, and Pete’s guys were holding me down. They were more than his guys; they were also my brothers too. They would protect me and would watch out for her because they knew she meant something to me.
An hour later, there was no word from Lift, and my guys were coming through the door.
“We’ll find her,” were Apollo’s first words.
“What’s the word?” Bronx asked.
He was asking whether to bring this man back dead or alive. Our club did not deal with violence as a practice, but we were no strangers to it. As a matter of fact, we were all highly trained in weapons, surveillance, and hand-to-hand combat.
The Legion of Guardians were based on the premise that we would keep the scales balanced and just but what some didn’t know and those who needed to did, was it was by
any means necessary. Some might have called us vigilantes, but we made shit right.
This needed to be made right.
“What do you have?” I asked Apollo.
“The trail ended cold, but it got hot again when I was looking into her old band. I have surveillance on the guy you decked. He is single, and it doesn’t look like he is doing much. Fucking with some girl out of town. The other guy is sketchy but I just put a tail on both of them. Wait.” There was a pause. “That guy, the one you decked. It was just confirmed that he’s been staying in town, but at the local motel. People don’t stay in motels, and they definitely don’t live in local motels when they have a house in their name two towns over. Tate just confirmed it. He’s a block away now since the guy hasn’t been back yet.”
“Good,” I exhaled.
Some amount of relief filled me, but it was only brief. I had to get her back.
“That’s good, but we need live intel now,” Pete added. “Can you get him on the phone?”
“Yeah,” Apollo called. “Tate, you in there yet?”
“Yeah, man. Just,” he grunted, “got in.”
He was on speaker phone.
“Look alive. We don’t have him fully on radar yet,” Apollo said aloud.
There were at least thirty guys in the room and more than half of them were my guys. They weren’t all lieutenants; they were brothers who heard what the hell happened and came to help. Some had on their cuts and others still wore their work clothes.
“Holy shit!” Tate breathed through the phone.
“What?!” I grabbed it from Apollo.
“Razor, man. He’s been following her every fucking move. Looks likes for the past year or so. Even when she was still in the band.”
There was rustling over the phone, and I saw Apollo talking with Pete.
“I’m gone.” I held up my phone. “Patch me through to Tate.”
“No, wait!” Pete yelled for me.
“Not waiting, Pete. My girl’s life is in the hands of some psycho. Not waiting anymore. Patch me through to whoever I need to speak with, but I’m not sitting around here strategizing.”
“I’m with you,” Bronx moved towards me, and so did Apollo.
“Fine, but let’s find out what we’re dealing with. We’ll put you on the live feed.” Pete nodded as I walked out.
“You take her house,” I pointed to Bronx. “You take that guy that I punched and get everything you can from him about this weirdo,” I pointed to Apollo.
“Where are you going?” Bronx asked as he held the clutch on his motorcycle.
“Ground zero.” I turned the ignition. “To this motherfucker’s house.”
We nodded and rode off.
* * *
Kylie:
Something smelled familiar, but it hurt to breathe. It felt like something was sitting on my back causing pain to shoot up my spine and my head to hurt like a bitch.
There was movement in the dark room, and then the heaviness was lifted off of me.
“You’re up,” a familiar man’s said, but it was strained, like he was hoarse or trying to alter his voice.
Just like I was taught, I took inventory of what I could. There was a blindfold covering my eyes. My hands and feet were tied. I was lying on my stomach on a cement floor and there were lights in front of me.
“You, you. You have been bad,” the voice stuttered. “I’ve. Been. Watching. You.”
“Justin?” My voice didn’t sound the same.
Holy shit. I think it was Justin.
“You remember, huh?”
“Justin, what’s going on?” I asked as my head felt like it weighed a ton. “Where am I?”
“I ask the questions.” His voice sounded far away. “You, you, you’re whoring around.”
“Uh, Justin what is this?”
A shrieking scream cut through the room, and then unimaginable pain spread through my side, causing me to scream out.
Son of a Bitch!
When it registered what happened, I realized I was not dealing with the Justin I remembered. This guy was different, and he just kicked the shit out of me. I swear he broke a rib or two.
“I told you!” Justin screamed. He was near me. Like really close. “I ask the fucking questions, you bitch!”
I could smell his putrid breath on my face as the spittle hit my nose. He was really close to me because I could feel his body heat on my skin. My head reared back and with my eyes closed, I spurred forward, hitting my target. My forgotten rib be damned; it was fight or flight. There was a loud bang, as if he fell on something. My hands were tied in the front, so I rolled over and tried to untie my ankles, but then I hit the ground with a breath-taking thud. The man had tackled me.
“You whoorrreeee!!!” he screamed as his clammy hands wrapped around my throat.
My hands were tied in between us, so I was able to push them up between us and break the hold from his left hand. Then I felt a sting across my face that sent my head whirling to the right as it was his left hand that struck me. He resumed choking me so I tried to squirm and use the momentum from my lower body to knee him off of me.
I must have succeeded because his entire body was no longer on me. There was ringing in my ears, but I heard other people and a scuffle. There were punches, screaming, and things were moving about.
Someone touched my shoulder, and I screamed.
“Kylie, it’s me,” a familiar voice spoke in my ear.
Oh my God! It was Apollo!
“Apollo! Oh my God!” My body was hefted up.
The blindfold was taken off, along with the ropes that bound my wrists and ankles. My eyes took some time to adjust, but when they did, I saw Razor beating the shit out of someone. There wasn’t a fight, it was just him throwing perfectly executed punches in the upper and middle region of Justin’s body. Bronx was standing next to him.
“Let’s go.” Apollo pulled me.
“Wait,” I said. “He’s going to kill that man.”
Apollo grunted and kept pulling me out of the underground space. We had to climb a ladder in order to get out. It was night time, but there were lights everywhere. They seemed to be every color. Bikes, trucks, cars and even an ambulance were coming. This was great because the lights and probably that last blow to the head had me going down.
My knees buckled under me, and I saw all the lights dim but something caught my fall.
Or someone.
* * *
There were voices in the room. They weren’t loud, but hushed voices like they were whispering. It was difficult to open my eyes, but after several tries, I was able to see through one of them. When my vision cleared, I saw four guys and one had on a doctor’s jacket.
“Kylie?” a familiar voice whispered.
I tried to turn, but it hurt like a bitch to move. I grunted and remained where I was.
“Oh no, honey. Don’t move.” It was Shay.
I heard feet scampering around then saw the men turning their heads.
“She’s up,” Shay called. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Hello Kylie, my name is Doctor Johnson. I’ll be the one asking questions, he looked pointedly at Shay.
“That’s her friend,” Bronx added with a glare that even my one good eye could pick up.
I raised my hand to see what was wrong with my eye, but the doctor stopped me and said, “It’s delicate right now. It has a patch on it, and at this moment, we just want to rule everything out.”
All of this commotion, and I still hadn’t seen my parents or Razor.
Where are my parents? Where’s Razor?” I croaked.
They just left out because your mom was feeling weak and uh, Razor. He’s on his way.” Bronx said.
“Just tell her the truth!” Shay snapped.
“There’s nothing to tell!” Bronx snapped back.
“Listen, you guys are upsetting her. Maybe you two need to step out since this is her first time awake.”
“We’re not going anywh
ere,” Bronx eyes narrowed. “We’re Guardians, and so is she.”
Dr. Johnson leveled his eyes on Bronx and said, “And I’m not? She just woke up, and you two are bickering. This is the last thing she needs. Now put a lid on it, or I will have you all escorted out of here.”
Bronx folded his arms over his chest in a defensive stance like he dared the doctor to throw him out. Shay touched his arm, and only then did he turn his gaze to her.
“It’s cool, doctor,” Shay rubbed Bronx arm. Then she nudged him and nodded, “Right?”
“Whatever.”
“Look, let’s catch up alright.” The doctor made his way to my bedside. “You have one broken rib and also a fractured one. There’s a cut on your wrist that has been bandaged, and your eye we will know more about tomorrow,” he nodded. “Besides that, you will be okay young lady.”
“Is my mom okay? Where’s Razor?” I asked again as panic begin to set in. My chest was tight, my hair was matted to my head, my palms were sweaty, and my body was sore.
“Honey, your mom is fine. She is just a little worked up,” Shay reassured. “They’re just down the hall. I’ll get them to come back, okay.” She looked to Bronx and continued, “Razor is just being detained with the Sheriff right now. He’ll be out soon. Wolf is there with him.”
“Who’s Wolf” I asked.
“The club lawyer,” Bronx answered. “He’ll be here within the hour.”
I nodded as I knew Shay wouldn’t lie to me. As long as he was alright, I was fine.
A few more minutes had passed, and I was back in la-la land.
* * *
Razor was there the next time I opened my eyes. He had a somber look, but I wasn’t sure if that was because he had been locked up for reasons I didn’t know yet, or I just looked like a beast or something. He wasn’t talking and was only answering me with one-word answers. My parents were there and though everyone looked physically fine, the weary look in their eyes told me they were more stressed than they let on.
I was released and went home with Razor. There was still a patch over my eye, and my wrist was bandaged up. They did not want to confine my ribs, so I basically had to be extra careful.
For three days, I looked in the mirror at the patch over my eye and the ugly bruises on my side. Razor helped to wash me, but he was distant, and it got to the point that it was getting on my nerves.