Cut Wide Open (A Bleeding Scars MC Book 1)

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Cut Wide Open (A Bleeding Scars MC Book 1) Page 3

by Abby Mccarthy


  I heard the door slam as Mitchell entered the house. There was arguing and more door slamming. Mitchell yelled, “We wouldn't even need her here, if you would just lay off the fucking booze.”

  I had heard it before. I was only a way for her to get more booze. You’d think that the money she got for me wouldn’t even be worth it, but she was a master at working the system and getting as many things for free as she could. Because she had me she got almost double in food stamps and just about every other benefit gave her extras because of me.

  I didn’t have many things. My clothes were hand-me-downs or things I had gotten when it was Christmas time and the United Way threw their annual event that helped clothe foster kids.

  I stayed in my room as they argued. It was so drab in here. My blanket was covered in holes, but it didn’t bother me. It was the same one I had since I was eight years old. I pulled it up tightly over my head. I felt lost. Gunner was gone and I was most likely having his baby. I had no idea what I’d do.

  My door opened and Mitchell shoved a brown paper bag at me. “Take this,” I’ll be waiting by the door.

  I walked into the bathroom and opened the bag. The paper crinkled as it moved and I found a pregnancy test. I sat with my pants around my ankles while I read the directions. There was a knock at the door, “C’mon, hurry up.”

  “It says it’ll be five minutes.” I moved the stick between my legs as I let the stream coat it. It didn’t even take five minutes. The little window showed double lines almost instantly. Pregnant. I was pregnant.

  I didn’t know what to say or do so, I opened the door, handed Mitchell the stick and went to my bed where I threw my blanket over my head and sobbed.

  “Fucking shit. You’re fucking right,” Mitchell yelled from the hallway.

  I stayed in bed until I fell asleep which took forever since I was scared out of my mind.

  The next day I went to school and when I got home there was an unfamiliar white sedan in the driveway. I walked in the door and saw a nicely dressed black woman. She had braids in her hair that were twisted into a bun. She wore an iridescent floral printed blouse with navy colored slacks.

  “Hello, Charlotte. I’m Mrs. Jackson. I’ll be your new case worker. Your foster parents contacted me and informed me of your situation.” Her eyes traveled to my stomach and I instantly felt protective. “They’ve packed your bag, but please take a minute and see if we missed anything.” Her tone held finality to it. I knew that the decision was final and that there was no arguing with it. I walked to my room and as I passed the living room I saw Claire and Mitchell starring at the TV. It was like I didn’t exist.

  I know there was nothing here of any real value except for the one thing that I couldn’t take with me. I looked at the window that I spent so much time watching Gunner. I wondered why he left me. I wondered what he’d think if he knew I had his baby in my belly. I put my head to the cold glass and closed my eyes, wishing that when I opened them he'd be there staring back at me.

  But when I opened my eyes he wasn’t there. I wanted to cry and scream that the only person I’d ever loved left me.

  A knock at the door startled me.

  “It’s time,” Mrs. Jackson’s voice was calm and reassuring. It didn’t matter. I was in a tumultuous sea. No reassurance would settle this storm.

  I pressed my hand to the glass one more time, then followed Mrs. Jackson out of the house. There was no long goodbye from Mitchell or Claire. Not that I’d expected there to be. For eight years I’d been invisible to them, why would now be any different?

  Chapter Two Gunner

  Crack. Hades' fist connected with my jaw. Um-pf. A swift kick from Radar to my ribs.

  Another hit to my kidney and I wondered if I’d black out.

  “Hades! Enough! He’s just a kid!” I heard my Momma shout through tears.

  “A kid? He’s six-three and besides Jake, he’s one of the biggest motherfuckers in here. He’s gotta learn if he wants to be a Hades Runner, he’s gotta follow the rules.”

  Another hit to my body. I wasn’t sure by whom this time. My vision was going black. I had tried to leave the clubhouse. I’d been here for months, and I needed to see Mouse. I hated that I had disappeared on her right after we fucked. And it was the sweetest fucking gift that girl could’ve ever given me. I’ve been craving it like you wouldn’t believe, that’s why I told these fuckers to fuck off. I was going to see my girl. They didn’t take to kindly to the disrespect.

  I heard my Mom yell again. “Hades!”

  Fuck, she was crying. I hated when she cried.

  Another hit, then finally, “Enough,” Hades shouted. I couldn’t move or get up if I’d wanted too. My vision was spotty. I’m not sure how long I laid there until a few of the brother’s dragged me across the street to one of the houses the Hades Runner’s owned.

  Days had passed since my beat down. I could finally get up from my bed without crawling. Good thing it was close to the bathroom. Between throwing up from my concussion and needing water from the faucet, I was glad it was near. Today I could walk, not well, but enough that I was going to walk into the clubhouse, grab a bottle of whiskey and hold my head up high. I would not show weakness to these guys, because, well, fuck ‘em.

  I was only three houses away from the clubhouse, but my vision was still spotty. I had to do this without passing out. My hand was reaching for the door when my vision really started to spin. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought of Mouse. I’d get through this and I’d be the strongest fucking man for her. With thoughts of her, my mind steadied enough that I was able to walk through those doors. I got a look from a few of the guys and I gave some equally pissed glares as best as I could muster to the guys that I knew hit me the hardest.

  What I didn’t expect to see when I walked in, was my Ma, snorting a line of coke off Hades's dick. “Ma!” I roared. Hades just grinned at me as he pushed her head down. She wasn't the woman I knew anymore. No, she might’ve been in there somewhere, but it became obvious to me she was Hades's coke whore. I was pissed I didn’t see it sooner. Sometimes, as a boy, you see shit how you need to see it. Heck, even as a man, your eyes could play tricks on you, but it was painfully obvious I was missing this vital piece. Hades wasn't my brother, he was the devil that took a grieving widow and turned her out. She used to bake apple pies and now she was between that motherfucker’s thighs. My old man would be rolling over in his grave.

  Disgusted with the scene, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey. I don't remember how I made it back to my bed. I barely remembered the weeks that followed, but one thing I knew for sure, was that this wasn't a club of solidarity and brotherhood. This club was the place keeping me from my woman and the place that turned my Ma into a whore. I’d do what I’d need to do to get by. Isn’t that what life was teaching me, to keep on getting by. Mouse was out there, I just needed to hang on.

  ***

  It’s been six months since I’d left the clubhouse. The first month, we were on lock down and then after that, I was prospecting. Prospects were expected to be here twenty-four-seven. The one time I told them I was leaving and to fuck off, cost me a near month of being in bed, which just made my prospecting even longer.

  Today, I rode away from these fuckers for the first time. I was going to get Mouse. I didn’t give a fuck that she was underage. She was mine and she was no longer going to live with those fuckwit foster parents of hers. They could keep their foster money for all I cared. I was taking care of her.

  I practically sped through every light on my way to her house. Six months was a long time, and I cringed when I thought of any of those high school fucks getting near her. I know she wouldn’t go there. But they would try and that thought drove me nuts.

  I pulled up in front of her house and the breath left my lungs. It was condemned with boards over the windows and the door. You could tell there was a fire from the black soot covering the siding. My gut turned. No God, please no. I shut the bike off noticing the demolition sign
stating that it would be torn down in just four short days. I walked up the broken cement walkway and kicked in the plywood covering the door. The couch was burned and it looked like a fucking crime scene. No. No. No. I stepped over fallen beams. Thick black soot coated everything. The smell of smoke was so heavy in the air that I lifted my t-shirt over my nose so I could breathe. I walked back to her room, not sure of what I’d find. I knew she wouldn’t be there.

  “Fuck!” I cursed under my breath when I walked in and saw her room nearly burned down to the studs. If she were asleep in here there is no way she would’ve survived. I just prayed that she wasn’t home when the fire started.

  I needed answers. I knocked on Mrs. Ellerson’s door. She was an older lady who had lived there all my life. She was a nosy old hag, she’d know. No one fucking answered.

  I walked across the street and banged on another door. Nothing. Where the fuck was everyone? Since when do these people go to work?

  One more house and finally Mr. Barker answered. “What is it, boy?” I was breathing hard adrenaline was coursing through my veins.

  “What happened to the house across the street?”

  His voice cracked. Years of smoking left Mr. Barker with tumors on his voice-box. “Tragic, really. Left her cigarette burning. Killed her and her old man too. Real shame. Happened about a month ago. Whole neighborhood was lit up. You couldn't have missed it. Where you been under a rock or something boy?”

  I growled at the old man. He was pissing me off, and I was scared shitless that Mouse was gone. “What about the girl?”

  “I don’t know nothin' ‘bout no girl.”

  I stormed away. I needed answers, but wasn't sure where to get them. For a month Mitchell and Claire had been dead, and I had to hold onto some kind of hope that Mouse was still alive.

  The pit in my stomach grew even bigger. I got back on my bike, went to the school and sat on my bike for nearly an hour watching the only entrance at the school that was left unlocked, hoping like fuck I’d see her and this would all be some cruel fucking joke. Nothing.

  I drove to the library and searched inside. Nothing there either. I tried to ask the librarian if they’d seen her, but no one seemed to know who I was talking about. I pulled out my phone and did a google search for the fire and there it was in black and white. Two dead in an accidental fire. Two. I had fucking hope, now, where was Charlie?

  I waited outside of the school hoping I’d see her or someone who might be able to tell me where the hell she went. The chilly morning air heightened my senses. I watched every single person as they arrived for school, but still I didn’t see her. I saw those tools whose asses I handed to them pull up in their Jeep. They were blasting Timberlake. I wanted to punch them again for being such pussies. Their eyes widened as I approached. Sure, my down time at the club had a lot to do with me lifting weights. I built so much muscle that if someone hit me again, they’d have a lot to get through until they could crack ribs. Cracked ribs sucked.

  I was also pretty sure the leather vest I now wore that sported the Hades Runners insignia had a lot to do with the scared shitless looks on their face.

  “You guys seen Charlie?”

  “Who?” The weaselly guy who talked to her the last time I kicked his ass asked.

  “Charlotte,” I gritted out because I was damn sure they knew who I was talking about.

  “Nah, man. She hasn’t been to this school in months,” A guy said from the back seat.

  “Yeah, one day she was here, and the next she was gone,” the fucking little dick weasel answered.

  Blood rushed to my head. The empty pit in my stomach intensified. I was pissed. I hit the fucker who delivered the news. He went down screaming. I didn’t give a fuck. I had to find my Mouse.

  My heart thumped. I was so angry. Angry at my brotherhood for taking me away from her. Angry at myself for not coming back sooner. “Fuck!” I bellowed. This couldn’t be happening.

  I went back to her house and searched her room for any sign. Her dresser was empty. I knocked it over because I was pissed off. Her mattress was mostly melted and in my anger, I picked it up and threw that too. Against the corner of the wall was a blanket. I lifted it. No sign that it was melted. It had holes throughout it and I wondered if that’s all she had? Was I so caught up in my own shit, that I couldn't see how bad she actually had it? I headed out to my bike, grabbed a couple small bungee cords from the small leather bag tucked under my headlight and rolled the blanket tight strapping it to my back seat. I had hoped she would be on the back, not this worthless rag, but it was all I had left of her.

  I reached the clubhouse, which was an old store that the club had bought. We also owned the eight houses on the street. Each house had three or four bedrooms and a few of the houses were duplexes. The clubhouse wasn’t the traditional bar that you might think an MC would have. Inside, there were leather couches that lined two walls. In the middle of the room was a dance floor with a stripper pole. On the opposite side of that, there were large industrial-sized stainless steel refrigerators that were stocked with tons of food. Next to those, were coolers that you might find at your local Seven-Eleven. Some were stocked with soda, while others were filled with beer.

  Once inside, I ignored the hellos from my brothers and went straight for the beer. I grabbed the first one I saw, tilted my head back and chugged the entire thing, then I grabbed another. I searched the room until my eyes landed on the man I needed to speak with; Dirk.

  Dirk had mad computer skills, and was usually really good at finding out information.

  “Brother,” I tilted my beer towards him as I approached.

  “What’s got your panties all twisted? Your little girl find some football player, while you been hanging with the big boys?”

  “Fuck off,” I growled ready to throw down.

  “Cool it, just giving you a hard time. What gives?”

  “What gives is she’s gone. House burned to the ground. Foster parents dead. I got no clue where she went and I really am curious as fuck to find out how come no one told me the house next to mine burned down. The house my girl lives in. You guys are supposed to be my brothers, but that shit was kept from me. Fuck, I need to find her man.”

  Dirk’s eyes changed. No longer was he my ball busting brother, sympathy instantly flashed in his eyes. He saw me practically clawing at the walls to get out of here. They thought it was funny. Their new prospect, the president’s new old lady’s son, pining over a teen-aged girl--but they didn’t know. How could they? That girl was the only fucking saving grace for me. All those years, she watched me. And I don’t give a fuck if it sounds like I’m a pussy, but I wasn't alone. Even if she wouldn’t talk she was always right there, and I left her... alone. And now, she’s gone.

  “I’ll find her. Let me get some paper, so I can write down what you know about her.”

  While he walked away I thought about the details I knew about her. I knew her last name. That was a start. But I didn't know Mitchell and Claire’s. I knew her biological mom was dead, but I didn't know her name. When she told me the heartbreaking story about her piece of shit junky mom, I was beside myself. I wished I could bring that piece of shit back to life and kill her myself for doing that to Charlie. No one should be raised like that.

  What else could I tell him? I could tell him how she was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and how she had no idea. Or how when she’d get nervous, she’d bite her lip and try to hide behind her long dark hair. I could tell him how she was the sweetest pussy I’d ever had and that even though she was a virgin, she greedily took my cock. But no, those things were not for my brother’s ears. They were mine and I was holding them close. She was my fucking Mouse, and I didn’t want to share that with anyone.

  So, I told him the facts I knew. Her name is Charlotte Morris. She sometimes goes by Charlie. Her birthday is December fourth and she’s sixteen years old. She lived with her foster parents Claire and Mitchell since she was eight. Mitchell worked various jobs.
Claire was a drunk. That’s it. That’s all I had to go on. As I recalled the details, I wanted to hit something or someone. I had so much rage.

  “This is good info. I’ll make some calls, see what I can find out. I’ll find your girl,” Dirk put his hand to mine and leaned in bumping his chest with my own.

  “Reece,” I called out. “I need to fight. Set something up, will you?”

  Reece had a devilish grin even under his dark beard. He rubbed his beard in contemplation as his smirk grew bigger. The woman on his side pressed her phony-ass breasts against him. He always had a chick hanging on him, in some way or another, and he had connections. “You hear that, everyone? Gunner’s going to fight. Max has a guy he’s been dying to have fight one of ours. Big motherfucker, too. I got a hundred on Gun.”

  And just like that, I had a fight set.

  I rode my bike with my brothers behind me. We met at a warehouse on neutral ground. It was one of three places illegal fights took place. It wasn't my first match, but it was the first time I needed the release.

  My opponent's name was Jeremiah. Reece didn’t lie. He was a big ass dude. Had at least half a foot on me, and I was a beast. I bet that stupid motherfucker, Reece, actually bet on the other guy. That’d be his mistake. I had so much rage to fuel my fight. Jeremiah barely lasted a round.

  Knockout.

  I wasn't done, though. “You got anyone else?” I asked Reece. Reece nodded to Max and Max returned his nod with a chin lift.

  A new fighter was brought out. This guy wasn't as big, but he was fast. He had full tat sleeves and a back piece that was fucking incredible. Maybe after I beat his ass, I’d find out who did his ink.

  It didn’t end as quickly as the first fight. Make no mistake, though, I did end it. He got a few good hits on me. I couldn’t help but feel that I deserved them. I wanted to hurt physically. I needed to distract myself from the pain in my chest. I’d find my Mouse and I’d stop at nothing until I did.

 

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