"All the girls are here too?" asked Melody.
"Nah. They let most of us go actually. Guess I got lucky ..." Rita started to cry softly.
"Hey there, don't cry. You're going to be okay.
"It's a bit late for that. You heard what they've been doing to me."
"Rita, look at me. They can't take away who you are." Melody didn't believe the words, even though she'd told herself the same thing a thousand times.
"Yeah, sure. I'm fine," Rita sad with a meekness that was heartbreaking.
"Is this one of the other girls they kept?" Melody gestured at the cage between them.
"No, she was here already. Her name's Deadra."
The woman in the third cage stirred and rolled over. Evidently she wasn't actually asleep. "You'd better hope they kill you," she said. "There are worse things."
"What's that mean?" asked Melody.
"They could always make you one of them, a monster."
Inspecting the woman's face, her eyes, the way she spoke in a lilted rumble, Melody realized exactly what Deadra meant. "Why would they turn you and lock you up?"
"I was seeing this guy I met at the tattoo parlor. He seemed cool, real bad boy ... we were almost an item when he said he wanted me to meet his friends. Never told me they were in a gang."
"Yeah, there's a lot he didn't tell you," added Rita.
"I can feel their blood rushing through me," said Deadra as she sat up. "I want to eat like they want me to. I can't let myself go that way without fighting it." It was unsettling how she told her story with so little emotion.
"I'd rather kill myself than be a monster," said Rita. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You're right," answered Deadra with shrug.
Melody didn't tell them about Hallard. If he were there, the huge and powerful bear man, they'd all be saved. She was such a fool for leaving him.
"If my boyfriend Jimmie was here, he'd kill all these dicks. Him and his crew," said Rita. Deadra sighed at her.
The sun started to go down, and Melody knew it would be the longest night of her life.
Chapter Thirty-One
Hallard called Colton back pretty soon after they first spoke on the phone. There was no other choice but to protect Melody. He knew in his heart that he loved her. That's why he drove like a madman back to the city to meet Colton. It still took the night to get back, with the morning sun already showing half its ass above the buildings of the city.
With too much time to think during the drive, Hallard wished that the thrashed out old pickup would even go faster. It whined at him when he tried to push it harder. And how long had it been since the old man had had the thing services anyway?
They'd stolen that car, most likely almost given the old guy a heart attack. They'd almost made him a killer too. Being a killer didn't mean much to Hallard, though he was sure it was a lot different to a normal person. Yes, they would kill, or have things killed for them, to eat or protect the things they held dear--like their freedom or comfort. But the average person didn't kill with their own bare hands like Hallard.
Even Melody had become a killer since her short time with him.
Just the thought of her made his dick rise up to greet him from down in his shorts. That, coupled with severe shame and regret, was a potent combination. Did every man go through these types of feelings the first time they were ...
They were what?
In love.
He hadn't said the word when he'd tried, as Melody left in that truck. Thankfully, there hadn't been much time to give it thought either. But he couldn't have such strong feelings already. They were surely just an extension of the way she made his cock feel, which made his heart throb at the push of his super-strong libido.
Colton had some things that seemed like total bullshit, especially coming from someone who had only met him earlier that day. Did he know what he was talking about? He must have been trying to get Hallard fired up, so that he'd help with this foolhardy mission.
But it was still the right thing to do. Hallard could never live with himself if Melody wound up dead over all this, no matter if she even wanted to see him again after being rescued.
No, that didn't sit right. Instead of running away because of what happened to him a long time ago, maybe it was time to admit what he wanted: a real life, more than just solitude and regret--someone to be by his side and love him for the real person he was, and the animal side that was part of the package.
Melody might be his only shot at true happiness.
Colton was waiting for him just where he said he'd be, by a cesspool that used to be some kind of waterway, at the edge of the city. "You got here fast," he said into the open driver's side window. "Come on, get out. We gotta ditch this wreck. Who the hell'd you steel this heap from anyway?"
"Never mind." He got out of the pickup, wondering if he could really just leave it now. Thinking of that old man who'd owned it, trying to make his way around with no transportation, caused a pang of guilt. But it was what it was. Hallard replied, "Tell me what happened to her. How do you know for sure?"
Colton leaned up against the side of it. "It's my job to know these things."
"How do I know you're good at your job?" He was tired from the long drive.
"Hey, I found you, didn't I? Saved your girlfriend too. What, are we gonna pull each other's dicks all day? Gimme a hand pushing this thing into the water."
Hallard complied. After they'd pushed the pickup into the sludge and covered it with water trash, they headed away in Colton's rusty sedan.
"What happened to the woman she was riding with, the trucker?" Hallard asked.
"You mean the dike? Man, that wasn't pretty, to say the least. You really want details?"
"No, I'm sure there are going to be plenty of gory details for us before the day's over."
"I'm fuckin' counting on it," said Colton, lifting a sawed off shotgun, pump action, out from behind his driver's seat.
"Do you think that's going to kill a wolf?"
"If my sidearm did enough to help save my ass, this thing'll help a whole lot. Besides, that's what you're here for." His face hardened, that shimmer through the skin, sickening or majestic, depending how you looked at it. Then, it went back to normal, but the intensity stayed in his eyes and Hallard knew they were really going to do this.
"I only want to make sure Melody's safe. And any other women they've got, of course."
"That goes without sayin'. Look, these guys really fucked up my life, y'know? If they don't have the answers I want--at least I can return the favor."
"You think it will be that easy?"
"Shit, no, but nothin' ever is."
They kept driving toward their destination: the Bloody Claw's headquarters.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In the darkness of predawn, Melody heard Rita start to panic. Her breathing became heavy, and she fretted being in that dark cage any longer. "The walls feel like they're gonna suffocate me, and this cage is the worst thing I've smelled in my life."
Melody used a sweet voice, like she imagined other people's mothers used when they were little. "Rita, honey, calm down. Breathe in deep, slow it down, okay? You're going to be just fine. We'll get out of here, I promise."
Rita made a few concentrated breaths and tried to do that. Every time she slowed a little and it seemed like she was calming down, she sputtered a pathetic cry and started to sob again. Then, the quick paced breathing started right back up. "But you can't say that, Melody. You don't actually think it. You're just trying to make me feel better so I'll shut up."
Of course Melody wanted her to stop with the waterworks. She wasn't an ice queen though. It hurt her to listen to, and killed the slim hope she was holding onto, to see this poor girl in such a state of despair. "No, I'm not. Look at this this way: you're not dead yet. You'll be back with your man soon enough."
Rita finally stopped crying, at the mention of her boyfriend. "Jimmie and his crew's gonna teach every one of these dicks
a lesson. Shoot 'em right in their heads."
The window was still dark blue, getting lighter. The light from the morning sun hadn't hit it yet. That meant Melody could not see the younger woman's face, but it was easy to imagine the look of grotesque satisfaction that went with her words of revenge.
"That, I'd love to see happen," Melody didn't mind admitting.
With a sleepy ball of phlegm choking the words, Deadra stirred and said, "See what happen?"
"Sorry we woke you," said Rita, wiping her tears and sniffling. She had this strange kind of admiration for their fellow captive, bordering on the line of obsession.
Whenever they took Deadra away to "groom" her for their own designs in the gang, Rita commented on how good she looked for someone who'd been kept in a cage so long, and how strong she was to go through so much.
"I'm glad you did," said Deadra. "My head's full of the most disgusting shit. Do you want me to tell you something messed up?" she asked as though she merely had an off-color joke to share. "I killed an old lady last night. Crushed her windpipe with my own hands."
"That's a horrible dream," said Rita, "You okay?"
"It wasn't a dream, oh no, it was real and I did it. You wanna know what else? I think I actually liked it ... at least at the time. Now?" She shivered.
"What did they do to make you snap?" asked Melody.
"Nothing. I was sober this time, no gun to my head, no threats. They just kept suggesting things to me, making it sound like it was a day at the fuckin' park or something. 'Hey, you have no idea how good it feels to take a life and feed on it.' And, 'You can't fight this. It'll take over your head.'" She suddenly vomited, and the smell was distinctly of blood and meat.
Rita screamed.
The light was a little brighter at this point, and the blood was dotted on Deadra's face as she turned to face Melody and said, "I can't go on like this."
The door opened suddenly, and a young man fell into the room, wearing nothing but a look of terror. He was maybe Rita's age, probably not even old enough to drink at a bar yet. His hands were tied behind his back, so when he fell, he smacked his face and made a sickening crunching sound on the concrete floor.
"Hey, Deadra," said one of the gang members at the doorway. He was big and fat. "Boss says you should get a reward for last night. That was bad ass, bitch, I was wrong about you runnin' with us. Hey, I even lost fifty bucks. Think you can pay me back some time with your snatch?" He pushed the naked kid out of his way and came into the room.
Another gang member, wearing shades inside like a moron, came in too. He locked the door behind him, from the inside. They never usually did that.
"What the hell's going on?" asked Melody with outrage. "What are you doing to this kid?"
"He's no kid. See that thing between his legs? That's not man size enough for you? Don't listen to her, Deadra. This guy's plenty good at fuckin'." He started laughing like he was about to say the most hilarious thing ever. "Shit, just ask Larry's sister about that," sat the fat guard.
The one with shades laughed too. "He's not happy with you, kid. You really put your dick in the wrong hole there."
The naked young man was shaking with fear. He'd been beaten already, with cuts and bruises all over him. "I don't know who Larry is. I don't know who you guys are. And, what the fuck do you have them in cages for? I'm not going in no cage!" He got up onto his knees and looked about to stand, but must have remembered how hard the ground would hurt if he were knocked down to it again. He was slimmer than the guards, for sure, but his thick, wiry muscles were impressive enough in their own right.
And Melody could not help but look down at his bare penis, no matter how much she tried to tell herself it wasn't right to ogle this poor guy.
"From Graves, congratulations on your first kill, Deadra. Now, you don't have to kill this one, but I got money on you this time, saying you're not gonna be able to resist," said Shades.
"What?" Deadra growled. "I'm not killing anyone else for you.""
"Sure, sure. Just fuck 'im then. Don't mind us. You'll get real used to our special, group 'parties' soon enough. Won't think nothin' of fuckin' around your pals. Trust me, it's the biggest thrill you can get--next to snuffin' some stupid skank while you get your nut." Fattie opened the door to Deadra's cage, letting the dense padlock hit the floor with a thud. He had a long beard that was probably covering half a dozen chins.
Deadra crawled out immediately and faced him.
"You look like you might wanna go us instead. Hey, we can fuck later." He laughed and it was sickening.
"Nah, I think she wants to rip our throats out instead of this kid's," said Shades. He grabbed his crotch and gestured it at Deadra.
She wiped blood away from her lip.
"Oh, boss also said to make sure you got this little treat." He took out a little spray bottle and used it on her.
A fine mist hit Deadra in the face and immediately engulfed her senses. She shook her head around like a cat that was just hit with a mist of water.
The guards laughed. "You'll like this," chuckled Fattie.
"What was that? What the fuck? It stinks. My nose is burning." After a minutes, Deadra stopped shaking her head and became more focused.
Melody and Rita stayed quiet, and it was safe to say they were both too scared to risk drawing attention to themselves. Melody found it difficult to move or try to talk. She wanted to help Deadra, but wasn't sure she'd be able to, even if it wasn't for the cage holding her. This was all so bizarre, like a waking nightmare.
"Wow," said Deadra with a totally different tone. She smiled and relaxed her body, with a look of exhilaration now on her face.
"See, I told you you'd like it. This shit's the best. We call it 'fuck juice.'"
"Wow," she said again, rubbing her tits and looking out the window at the rising light. "This is something else, isn't it? I feel good but--bad. I could really eat though." She turned and looked the naked, young man up and down.
He was still kneeling on the concrete floor. He turned his head away from her, shaking all over, but keeping her locked in his peripheral vision.
"Awe, sweetie," Deadra said, making a sultry little stroll over to him, "you don't have to be afraid. I'm a very nice girl. Don't you like me?" She growled and produced a single claw from the index finger of her right hand and put it to his chin. "Look at me. Don't you think I'm pretty?"
The guards were grinning from ear to ear, but keeping quiet and not trying to spoil their show.
Deadra grabbed the kid's hair and pulled at it. "Don't you want to fuck me?" she asked.
"O-o-f course," he stuttered. His body language did not agree with him.
She crouched down beside him and grabbed his long, floppy cock, hard enough that it must have hurt.
"Why is your cock so limp then? Here, I'll help you." She undid her jacket, the one with the bloody claw on the back. There was nothing underneath but her bare chest. She put the terrified young guy's hands on her small tits. "Are they enough for you? Perky, right? Here, what about this." She sat on her ass and leaned back. "Put your hand down my pants."
The guy did what he was told, though it seemed like a grave effort to make himself move, with all his trembling.
"Yeah, baby," Deadra said.
Melody couldn't believe this sudden change of persona in the woman. "What are doing, Deadra? Can't you see he's terrified?" She felt ill watching this happen. It didn't matter that Deadra was attractive or that it was a woman forcing a man. Anyone could tell the guy wanted nothing but to get the hell out of there.
"Hey, Melody, I'm just having a little fun. Look, he's getting into it now."
Sure enough, the kid's cock was getting hard, despite how much he clearly wanted to cry for his mother. Melody tried not to think of him as a kid. He was probably at least eighteen, after all, an adult by society's standards. It was wrong, but he would survive if he just let this happen.
Memories of the times she'd told herself similar things came back to her
.
Just let it happen, Melody.
You'll get what you want if you make him happy.
It will make him mad if you say no.
She wanted to throw up but hadn't eaten or drank anything since the romantic dinner with Hallard at the bed and breakfast. Oh, how happy and distant that seemed now.
Deadra was stroking his cock now. It was erect, but it was easy to tell he didn't like it.
In the past, when Melody had been fucked by a guy she hated, she'd still get wet most of the time. If not, they'd use spit or lube.
You have to stop this from happening.
The young man groaned as Deadra leaned down and spat on the end of his cock, giving it a lick before continuing the hand job. "I bet you'd love to get this juicy dick of yours into something tight and wet, right?" Her voice was husky and, when she used it so sweetly, there were few things that sounded sexier. She tilted her head and long, dirty-blond locks of hair shifted down over her leather clad shoulders.
She pulled her dirty jeans off, getting off her purple panties in the same movement. "Lay down."
But the guy didn't have a chance to obey, before she pushed him. His head made another thud on the cement. Deadra got on top of him.
Melody was clutching the flesh of her own leg, and hadn't noticed. But instead of stopping, she did it even harder, willing the pain to distract her from what she had no control over. Punishing herself for keeping her eyes glued on what was unfolding just feet away from her--maybe even a little aroused, watching as Deadra slid that thick, young cock up her dirty pussy, and started to ride him.
"No," she said.
"What's your problem, bitch?" said Shades, and kicked Melody's cage. "You got a problem with a free show? Like you ain't all wet and wantin' some dick."
"Maybe we should give it to her?" said Fattie. "Hey, Deadra, how about we make this family-style, huh?"
"Shut up," growled Deadra. Her eyes were shut. She grabbed the kid by the throat and tensed up her forearms. She was focused on bouncing herself up and down on him, taking in every inch of pleasure and breathing like a wild animal.
Shifting Solitude (Outlaws, Fangs and Claws Book 1) Page 14