I shiver a little as water runs off my hair onto my skin and soaks through my top. I knew something wasn’t right these past few days, I felt it deep down... they’ve come for me. I’m on edge, my muscles taut, ready and waiting for when they’re going to make their move.
There’s another bang and I suck in a deep breath, either about to do something brave or something really fucking stupid. I’m not thinking too much into the latter at the moment, but whatever’s about to happen is inevitable. If I don’t go out there,they’d only make their way in once they’re finished trashing the place.
I blow out a breath and throw open the door, ready for what’s about to come. I look around the apartment, there’s no one here. It’s trashed, but I can’t see anyone. I’m not that stupid though, I know they’re waiting and not having anything but a plunger as a weapon, I make a dash for the kitchen, cursing myself that I didn’t take the knife with me in the first place.
I’m two meters away but I’m stopped in my tracks by a lean figure adorned in all black, including the bandana and hood that covers his face. I try to dodge around him, avoiding his grasp, but he’s too fast. I kick out in every direction and writhe against his hold, but it’s a futile attempt.
I kick against the wall making us both fly against the kitchen counter, I hear a thud and he curses. I recognize his voice, but I can’t quite place it in my frenzy to get away. The distinctive smell of leather and oil brings back memories and I start to panic. I stamp on his feet but with only bare ones of my own, it does nothing against his steel capped combat boots, I only end up hurting myself.
He has a hand around my waist, pinning my arms to me and one over my mouth to stop me from crying out. As he gets me closer to the apartment door, my heart starts sinking. This is it, this is the beginning of the end.
The hell with that!
I throw my body back and manage to free one of my arms, throwing my elbow back clumsily, but it cracks against his face with such a force he doesn’t have time to stop me and lets go of me fully.
I run the few steps to the apartment door, scrambling over broken photo frames and feeling the glass embed itself into my feet, but I don’t care.
Protect yourself, Keeley. If I can just make it out into the street and make enough noise, someone’s bound to hear me in this dead town!
I make it to the second-last stair on my way down before I’m yanked back against a hard body and a cloth is held over my mouth. Whatever is on it stings my eyes and my head spins, but just before I pass out, I see the wreck that the salon is in and my safety goes out my mind for a minute. “You fuc-”
Everything goes black.
Ergh! Worst hangover ever. I try to raise my hands to my head to stop it from spinning, but I can’t lift them.
Why can’t I move?
I can feel something scratchy covering my face and it feels and sounds like I’m in a vehicle.
Huh?
I try to lift my hands again but they come up against resistance and it all comes back to me. My breathing becomes ragged and I try to calm myself as I spiral into a panic attack.
No, no, no! This can’t be happening.
I struggle against whatever has my wrists bound and it digs into my flesh. I roll onto my feet but immediately drop down, they’re bound by the ankle but it’s not that that stops me. It’s the intense stinging and shooting pains radiating from the soles of them that do. I’m reminded that they were cut during my shitty attempt at an escape. I just wasn’t ready for them to come this soon, but I should’ve prepared myself, I should’ve had a plan in place. Fuck!
My head is pounding out the beat of a drum and I cringe as the vehicle I’ve been thrown inside makes a turn and my head crashes against one of the sides. I attempt to roll up onto my knees instead but decide against it as a wave of nausea rolls through me, telling me it’s too soon to be upright. I try to remember why the guy who took me sounded familiar, but I keep coming up empty. Then the last image of our salon rolls through my mind.
The salon. Our apartment!
I curl my legs up and hold back a sob, I won’t allow them to hear me cry, but this has gutted me like a fish. The thought of Sam going back and having to start from scratch again wounds me deeper than these sleazy fucks ever could. Everything is ruined because of me. I send a silent prayer up to the big man to thank him for moving her out of harm’s way, if she was there tonight, I could never forgive myself for getting her caught up in my business.
Why I thought I could let my guard down and live a normal life, I don’t know. This is who I am, it’s all I’ll ever be.
A pawn to the club.
I test sitting up again and ignore the nausea that swarms my body, threatening to make me puke right here. I close my eyes and try to find some equilibrium against the rocking of what I presume is one of their dirty vans.
I wonder how long we’ve been travelling for? Are they going to take me right back to the clubhouse, or do they have other plans for me?
I decide to wait this out, see where we’re heading before making any irrational decisions. But one thing’s for sure. If they’re looking for me to be a cooperative little prisoner, they can kiss my ass, there’s no way I’m going down without raising a little hell!
After what I figure has been about three more hours since I first woke up, I’ve had enough.
“Hey!” I shout, my voice coming out gravelly against my parched throat.
I bang against the front of the van with my foot, biting down on my lip as it stings and I wince in pain. “Hey!”
I’m glad they hadn’t thought to gag me; I smile a triumphant smile.
I bang and scream until my body suddenly jerks forward with the force of the brakes, and my body clashes against hard metal.
I sit up as I hear a door slam and prepare myself for whatever they’re about to do to me. The back of the van opens with a creak and my breath hitches as I feel hands wrap around my ankles as I get jerked forward. I try to steady my shaking hands, but who am I kidding? I’m scared shitless.
Apart from his hands pinning me down, he’s not made a move to do anything else yet so my pulse slows down and my head to mouth filter stops working.
“So let me guess, you’re the little bitch doing all the dirty work while my dad sits on his ass? Hmm? Oh come on, Mr silent, give me a little something, it’s not like I can do anything with it.” He doesn’t say or do anything. “Come on, the least you could do is tell me where you’re taking me, you have just taken me hostage, you sick fuck.”
Normally by now they’d have lashed out at what I’m saying, but apart from breaking into my salon and apartment, trashing the place and taking me against my will, he hasn’t actually made a move to hurt me. My mind is swirling, if he isn’t going to hurt me, then maybe I can try and get away?
Just as that thought rolls through my mind I hear the sound of another vehicle approaching, and I stiffen before my mind catches up and I thrash about tirelessly against his arms, but it’s no use. I manage to connect with a few parts of his body that has him wheezing, but he wraps his arms around me to restrain me.
The other engine cuts out and the sound of a door opening makes me freeze. I hear footsteps coming toward us and the gravelly lilt to my attackers’ voice grinds out over the air. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago, I had to drive around for a bit longer so I didn’t look too suspicious.”
I stop breathing, waiting for the other person to speak, but he gets no answer in reply. I feel him ease off me. “She’s feisty, watch out for those feet.”
He chuckles as if this is all just a big joke, like my life means nothing, and then I feel all his weight come off me and another replace his.
The sound of keys being exchanged and retreating footsteps are next, and I breathe in the smoke of whoever is stroking their grubby paws up the outside of my left leg. I stay still and try to contain the panic I’m starting to feel. This exchange is different; I can feel the dark vibes rolling off this person in waves.
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Their hand travels across my thighs and down the other leg making me want to throw up as I feel their calloused hands glide across my skin. Fuck this shit, I kick out with both bound feet and smile as they connect with something that makes him curse.
“Fuckin’ bitch!”
I freeze as years of bad memories assault me, I know that voice better than my own. I’d rather die than be in his hands again. I try to scuttle backward but he grabs my legs and pulls me toward him again, pinning me down.
I feel a burning sensation on my ankle and I hold back a squeal, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he’s hurt me. That bastard just put his cigarette out on me!
He laughs, the sound ricocheting off the inside of the van as I recoil back into the fetal position. I feel his body heat and smell his sweaty odor as he leans over me, grabbing at my neck. I panic as he squeezes, crushing my windpipe and I thrash against him.
I’m going to die in a dirty van in the middle of god knows where by the one person I swore would never rule my life again.
A rush of air fills my lungs as he lets out a sinister laugh, throws my head back down, and slams the doors shut. I back up and huddle into a corner as I try to catch my breath. Anyone but him, I can only wish it was my Dad that had come for me. This is going to be so much worse than I thought.
My head is filled with the memories from my past, all containing his hideous face. I don’t know how many times I’ve gone to sleep over the years, only to have it flash through my mind. But this isn’t a dream. This is real life, and I won’t be waking up anytime soon.
The terrain we’re driving on seems to change and the ride gets bumpier as we travel on what seems to be gravel. I know we’re driving down a dirt track, but I want to know where. I have a feeling in the deepest part of me that I won’t be escaping, but I’m going to give it everything I have trying.
He stops the van and I ready myself as the back doors open, and I feel the van tilt as he steps into the back with me. I try to lash out as he start to drag me out of the vehicle but he stops before we make it out and flips me over onto my stomach, grabbing a large handful of my hair and pulling my head back toward his mouth. “The harder you fight, the rougher I get, sweet girl.”
I gag at his use of the pet name my mom used to call me and I feel my scalp start to burn from where he’s pulling so hard, but I try not to cry out. My head jolts forward as he pushes my face into the bottom of the van. “Be a good little girl and climb out here.”
I don’t move, I’d rather he killed me than go anywhere with him.
“Fuck you,” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that?” He grinds out.
“I said... Fuck. You.”
I’m dragged out the rest of the way and I fall with a thud onto the gravel covered floor, feeling the bite as it digs into my legs and arms. I cry out as he stomps his boot into the back of my kneecap and twists it.
“That’s it, scream for me.”
I’m so distracted by the blinding pain that I don’t retaliate or fight him as he throws me over his shoulder and starts walking somewhere.
The throb of my knee is excruciating and I can already feel the trickle of blood moving down my leg. The first drop of many I’m suspecting. The sound of a door that needs oiling and a clang as it closes behind us is the first thing I hear.
He then takes us through another door and I’m just waiting for the smell of old beer and smoke to invade my senses, so when it doesn’t, I’m more than confused.
We’re not in the clubhouse. This isn’t good.
I’m dropped like a sack of flour on a hard, icy cold floor and I try and scoot back but my knee cries out in pain. My head is still covered by whatever they have over it so I can’t see anything, the unknown making me alert. I try to steady my breathing so I can hear anything other than my own heartbeat in my ears, pounding out a punishing rhythm. Doing this, I can now hear him pacing in front of me and I take another steadying breath.
“What no bed? I’m hurt.” The footsteps stop abruptly but he doesn’t say anything. “Let me guess, you’re going to smack me around for a few days and then you’ll kill me? That’s how it normally goes, right?”
My skin pricks with goosebumps when he starts a slow, menacing laugh as he takes a few steps toward me and bends down so I can hear him real clear when he says, “Girl, you’re gonna wish you were just getting smacked around when I’m done with you.”
I tense up as the sack over my head is lifted, automatically slamming my eyes shut. I don’t want to come face to face with him, I don’t want to be made to see him another time. Just the thought of his sweaty, scar ridden face makes me feel ill.
My throat starts to burn as bile starts rising up my throat and I retch. He laughs a deep guttural laugh that has me wanting to pass out right here.
He’s enjoying this and I just can’t help myself.“You’re laughing because you make me feel sick?” I counter back with a laugh of my own.
I’m grabbed by the chin with grotesquely large fingers and my face is yanked within an inch of his. I know this because I can feel every bit of his putrid hot breath fanning over me.
“You’ll learn to like me, sweet girl, just like your mom did.”
Anger courses through me at the mention of my mom. “Don’t you dare talk about her! She never liked you, she didn’t have a choice so she drowned out reality with liquor. You stole her life from her you-“
I falter as he deals a sickening blow to my left eye. Pain radiates through my face and my eye starts to pulse, I can already feel it starting to swell.
“Your mother, was a worthless piece of shit! She was only good for entertaining us men!” He screams.
I hear a clink that makes me open my eyes, I shut my left eye against the pain and instantly regret opening them. His face sends me into the start of another panic attack. His greasy brown shaggy hair is peppered with gray streaks the same as the scruff on his chin and his soulless eyes look almost black in this light, although I know they’re normally the color of chocolate, though they hold none of the warmth.
His thin wrinkled lips lift up at the corners and he points to the scar that runs just under his eye, to the corner of his jaw with the knife he’s just taken out from behind him.
“I’ve been waiting for over three years to get you back for this, sweet girl.”
He licks his lips and aims the knife toward my face, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest as the panic in me amps up.
“Doing this won’t make you feel any better about yourself! You’ll still be the same fugly piece of shit!” I cry, feeling more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt before.
“Do you know what we do to deserters? Hmm? What we should’ve done to you before my brother took away that decision from the club! ” He runs the knife down my cheek, hard enough for me to feel threatened, but not hard enough to pierce the skin. “Little biker princesses aren’t exempt y’know. You knew the rules.”
He pulls back and slaps me with a force that makes my head whip back. I recover from the blow and stare blankly into his eyes as I feel a black mist wash over me.
He wants a reaction out of me, so I try to calm my breathing and play it cool. “Does my daddy know where you are? If this was club business, I would’ve seen him by now.” I spit blood in his face and he pulls his arm back to hit me again. “Aahh, I see. You never were one to play it by the book, Merl. You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that.”
He looks at me, his eyes swirling with anger. “Your daddy stopped giving a shit about you the moment you started being a little whore.”
Keep calm, Keeley, keep calm.
“You mean when you framed me because I wouldn’t put up with your piece of shit ass anymore.”
I look at him through my good eye, I’m getting to him, the look on his face is furious. I smile. “You’re nothing but a disgusting sicko who gets off on praying on women,” I lean forward, feeling braver than I probably should. “You can go fuck yours
elf if you think-”
My ears ring as he hits me full force in the side of my head again. “This is how you wanna play it Keeley? Don’t test me!”
I don’t know what happens next because my head swirls with pain and lolls forward as the room fades to black.
I first saw what was going on when I was six years old.
“Kirsten, where are you?” He shouts.
Mom picks me up, puts me in her closet, and whispers, “We’re gonna play a little game of hide and seek. I’ll count to one hundred and no matter what you hear, you don’t come out until I come find you, okay, sweet girl?”
She closes the concertina doors but I can still partially see out of them. I watch as my Uncle Merl walks into her bedroom. I cower back, I’ve never liked him.
“Where’s the brat?”
He looks left, then right, and mom stands glued to the spot as he walks over to her.
“She’s over at Arlene’s playing with Hunter,” she grinds out and tenses as he runs a finger down her cheek. “But Daryl will be back any minute now.”
He grabs her hair and drags her to the bed, her pleading with him to stop the whole time, but he ignores her.
“Better make this quick then.”
He pushes her over the end of the bed and lifts up her skirt, pulling down his light denim jeans at the same time. He starts thrusting his hips into her and I hear her muffled cries as he keeps her head pushed into the bedsheets.
As a little girl, I had no idea what was going on, but it soon clicked as I got older.
I’m woken by icy cold water being thrown over me and I suck in a breath, steeling myself for the second bout of water, only it doesn’t come. Instead, I hear a loud clanging noise and I try to clutch my head, it feels like someone has it in a vice, but I still can’t move my hands properly.
I try to open my eyes, my left I can hardly see through and my right is a little blurry so I don’t see when he grabs me, until it’s already happening. He pulls me by my bound ankles and my stomach lurches at the dizziness the movement brings on. He drags me, scraping my back against the dirty floor, into a smaller room. My vision in my right eye starts to clear up and I see it’s got a small dirty mattress in one corner and a bucket in the other.
When I'm With You (Little Hollow #2) Page 8