by L. Grubb
Once I’m done in the shower, I leave the heat and shiver as the cold air outside the shower stall brushes over my skin causing goosebumps to rise in its wake and causing my nipples to pebble. Shivering, I dry myself with the towel that’s been replaced by one of the girls and wrap a scratchy robe around myself.
As I walk into the bedroom, I notice the window open and the cold air flows through. I didn’t open the window, did I? My eyebrows crease in confusion and I double check that the door is locked. Someone must have opened it when I was on stage.
I close the window and the curtains, which have gone from white to yellow, proving the last occupant of this room indeed smoked. I go around the room getting dressed for bed in clothes that have been placed in drawers under the wardrobe.
Climbing under the thick duvet, I sigh in content as my head hits the feather pillow. My body is exhausted, my feet are hurting from the horrid heels and my head is pounding from the terrible music that’s been playing all day and evening. I say a silent prayer for help before darkness takes over and I’m thrown into an abyss.
Mack
Four in the morning and I’m up, showered, shaved and dressed. I had a shit night’s sleep but that’s nothing unusual. Last night, I didn’t have one my usual nightmares, I dreamt of Hope, of the hell she could be going through in the hands of those monsters. That’s one word that I can describe that MC, though I can think of stronger words. They want notoriety, they want power and destruction. They want my place in the hierarchy and that will never happen even if I was dead.
In my office, I go through signing the last of the paperwork that’s on my desk that associates with our garage and bars, filing them into the right place after photocopying copies for the businesses. I also manage to tidy my desk up before Ranger makes an appearance with two coffees in hand.
“Ah, you read my mind,” I say as I reach for one of the coffees. “Much needed, thank you.”
“Whoa, did you just thank me, Prez? That’s a first for you, I must say.” He chuckles as he brings his mug to his mouth and takes a tentative sip. I glare at him before sitting behind my now clean desk.
“I couldn’t sleep worth a fucking damn last night,” I mention as I sip my black coffee. “Been up since four and I’m ready to burst their fucking doors open to get her out. We’ve got hours yet.” I check my watch and notice the time. Ten? Jesus, where has those hours gone.
I must have a shocked expression because Ranger asks, “What’s up?”
“Just realised the time. Fuck knows where all those hours have gone. We leave in a little over an hour.” I can feel the smile tug at my lips because soon, Hope will be safe; with us. “I can’t let her Father’s memory down. We need Hope to be safe.” I bite my lip as I stare at Ranger. “I think I’m gonna lay on the couch and catch some Z’s. Come get me at 11.”
Ranger nods and leaves my office, the click of the door loud in the silence of the room. I head over to the sofa that’s in the corner of the room and lay down, spreading myself out as best I could; considering I’m a tall fucker and this sofa is the tiniest darn thing ever. I throw an arm over my face and close my eyes, hoping sleep will come quick; I need all my energy and attention solely focused on getting Hope to safety.
“Prez? Wake the fuck up already!” Ranger’s voice seeps through my conscience and I wake up, startled.
“What the fuck, Ranger?” I rub my fists over my eyes, wiping the recesses of sleep from them and I eye Ranger with a glare that would make any other man shake in his shoes, but he just laughs at me.
“You told me to wake you at eleven, it’s now eleven so get your arse up and ready because we’re leaving in ten.” Saluting me with a dirty grin on his face, he leaves the room. I sit up and scrub a hand down my face. It’s now or never. Time to get her from the hands of the Devil’s and into the hands of the Crusaders.
Standing, I wait ‘til the last bit of darkness from sleep slips away before I leave the room. The brothers are already in the main room, dotted around on the little tables finishing the last of their breakfast. Shit, I didn’t have none. Turning, I head into the kitchen where Jessika, Grizz’s Old Lady, is washing up at the sink. “You do realise we have a dishwasher, right?”
“Duh, but I like to do it by hand. Will you ever stop asking me that question?” She giggle-snorts and places a frying pan on the draining board. “Your breakfast in on the counter.” She points a rubber-gloved finger to a lone plate sat under the heater.
“Thank you.” I grab the plate and fork and quickly shovel it into my mouth. Five minutes later, the plate is clean and I place it on top of the others that have started to pile up beside her. “That was great, as always. Catch ya later.”
I leave through the swinging doors of the kitchen and everyone is sat around shooting the shit with each other while waiting for me to bark the orders. I watch from the kitchen doors at my men, relaxed. It’s not often they get time like this and I know everything is about to change. “Right, boys, let’s ride.” Shoulders go back, tensed. Hopefully, Ginge and Tips got their facts straight because if they didn’t, this will go down bad.
We file out of the clubhouse through the main doors, heading to our bikes that are lined up in the garage off to the side. Fuck leaving them out in the open, you never know if someone wants to open fire these days. We have many enemies, none that would really have the balls to do anything but with the Devil Heads MC back up and running… we can never be too careful.
The sound of bikes as they roar to life is like music to my ears. The noise will never get old and always gives me a sense of calm. I start my bike, giving it a few revs. My bike happens to be the noisiest motherfucker out of them all and I can see all the brothers shaking their heads at me. I smirk and kick the kick-stand back before rolling slowly out of the large garage. I’ll lead the pack, I’ll be the one leading them into the unknown. We only have a basic plan but I’m confident in it. I mean, none of those arseholes will be there to stop us… but you don’t know what girls there are that can call them back. I won’t ever hurt a woman, but I am impartial to threatening them to make them shut up.
I have eight men with me and their lives are practically in my hands. It never makes me nervous because I’m confident in what we do. I was brought up in this world, my father being the previous President and all and I learned everything there is to know from him. He may have been a complete prick at times but he was good at what he did. Leaving my mother was the best thing he ever did for himself.
Thinking of my mother as we turn down the roads of London, I think back to her parting threat. Is it empty? Or will she really try and bring this club down? Time will tell but in the end, she’ll be the one to pay the ultimate price. Hoping she got the message loud and clear before I kicked her nasty arse out, I shake the thoughts of the desperate junky from my brain and concentrate on navigating my bike.
Thankfully, the traffic is light and we make it to our destination. We park at an abandoned industrial estate and wait. From here, we can see when they leave but they won’t be able to see us due to the bushes; which is where we are crouched, watching and waiting.
Thirty minutes we sit like this for and my knees and back are starting to ache against the strain of the position. Finally, we hear the rumble of bikes and they leave and they’re heading in the opposite direction. I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding.
“Five minutes, lads, then we go in. Let’s make sure the sounds of bikes have disappeared. Precaution and all that shit.” I wave a hand at them and we stand to stretch our muscles.
Soon, the air around us stills and the sound of bikes have gone. “Go!” We rush around the bushes, jump over the chain link fence and run across the road.
Their clubhouse isn’t enclosed in a high fence and gate, no guard booth and from what I can see, no cameras. Perfect. The main door is unlocked and we creep in, hearing girls talking and laughing, bitching and cleaning. Some of the voices sound too young and my gut starts to turn at the me
re thought of how young some of these girls could be.
As we enter the dimly lit main room, I look around and the girls’ expressions are one of fear. “Don’t be scared, we’re not here to hurt you. We just need Hope. Can you tell us where she is?” I have my hands up in a non-threatening pose and a young girl in a short, strapless dress points to the stairs. “Thank you. Boys, stay here. Keep your guard up and try and get the ages of the girls.”
Murmurs of agreement float around the room and I head up the stairs two at a time. I hear the quiet weeping behind the first door I come to and I knock. “Hope? Is that you in there?”
The door opens a crack and her red, puffy face comes into view. “Who are you?”
“I’m Mack, President of the Crusaders MC. Your dad did a lot of work for us.” Her forehead crinkles as she takes in my words. “We’ve come to get you out of this shit hole. You can trust me, Hope.”
The door opens wider and her full form comes into view. The tiny, black dress she’s wearing doesn’t leave much to the imagination and I can’t help sliding my gaze to her breasts. Looking down at her legs, I ask, “Do you have trousers you could put on?”
“Um, I have joggers I think.” She turns and heads into the little box room, rifling through a drawer under the wardrobe. She lifts a grey pair of jogging bottoms and pulls them up her legs. The slight disappointment I feel as her legs are covered up surprises me but I have to keep on my game; keep my guard up until we’re safely back at the clubhouse.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I’ve been ready since they took me.” She hangs her head as she leaves the room and I follow behind her, pulling the door shut behind me. We walk down the stairs in silence and when she sees the other men lingering around, her step falters and she nearly flies down the stairs. I bring my arm out and catch her just in time. “Shit.”
“You okay, Hope?” I have her flush against me and the smell of her hair drifts up my nose. My heart skips a beat, but I have no fucking clue why; I don’t know this girl.
“I’m fine. Can we get out of here please?” Her voice is shaky with what I can tell is fear and her body is convulsing with nerves.
“Come on.” Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, I grab her hand and lead her out the front of the make-shift clubhouse and run across the road. I help her over the fence and jump over after. I can hear the boots of my brothers as they pound against the asphalt and we’re soon catching our breaths by our bikes. I check my watch. We still have plenty of time to get out of here. “Hope, you’re riding with me.”
Looking around, I notice Ranger has a young girl with him and a look of worry crosses his face. “Who’s she?”
“Lucy. She’s fourteen, Prez. I couldn’t leave her there.” The anger in the undertone of his voice transfers to me. Anger is starting to sizzle in my blood but this is neither the time or place.
“She rides with you and she’s your responsibility.” I help Hope onto the back of my bike and place my helmet on her head. “You’re going to be okay, Hope. We’ll look after ya, okay?”
Her slight nod has me worrying how mentally stable she is, how she’s going to deal with her ordeal… whether it’s bad or not, I don’t know. But being kidnapped on the street must be hard for her anyway.
I climb on in front of her. “Hope? Wrap your arms around my middle.” I pull her legs until she’s flush against my back and grab her arms to wrap around me. “On turns, move with the bike, don’t fight it.” I don’t get any acknowledgment but I can understand if she doesn’t trust us.
We ride out, speeding down the motorway and side roads to get back to the clubhouse. I know there is going to be a blow-back, I’m not stupid enough to think otherwise. The Devil Heads MC are going to be gunning for blood. I wonder how long it will take them to realise it was us that took Hope… and Lucy.
Arriving back at the clubhouse, I tap Hope’s leg to get her to climb off, she does with difficulty and I have to fight the amusement from showing my face. She takes off her helmet and shakes her hair out, which is matted in places. When was the last time she was able to brush her hair?
After we’ve all safely alarmed our bikes, we head into the clubhouse through the main doors where the club whores are already lounging about. I don’t miss the disgusted faces when they notice Hope and Lucy. I don’t even know why I still let them come here, they’re bitchy to any new girl that comes through the doors. Fingers crossed that Hope can hold her ground because I know what they’re going to do; corner her and push her to leave. She can’t leave though, it’s not safe.
“We’re on lockdown. Anyone who wishes not to be, please leave now.” I boom across the room. “This includes the whores and Old Ladies.” There’s only two old ladies but they’re loyal and they always stay here on lockdown. Thankfully, there are no kids involved in the club yet otherwise that may have been a little bit harder.
No one leaves and that surprises me. Usually the whores are the first out the door, not wanting to feel trapped or because they have lives outside the clubhouse. I nod my head and eye each woman in the room. “This is Hope. Any whore who gives her shit will be thrown out of this clubhouse. And the other girl is Lucy, she’s fourteen. If anyone touches a hair on her head they will be severely punished.” Nods all around gives me a sense of peace. The last thing these girls need is shit from them.
I lead Hope to my office and the guys spread out and Ranger takes Lucy to the sofa in front of the TV. These girls are under my care now and I refuse to let anything happen to them.
Placing a hand at the small of Hope’s back, I usher her into my office and onto the couch. “You’re safe now, babe.”
“How can you be so sure? You’ve just taken me from right under their noses… pretty much. They’re going to want revenge.” Her anxiety seeps into her words and I sit next to her and rub circles on her back.
“Because for one, they don’t know it was us. Two, we have fucking awesome security and three, they’re nobodies. I won’t let anything happen to you, Hope. I promise you that.” I’ve never spoke truer words. The site of her beauty has my breath caught in my throat. Her eyes are dull, lifeless, like she’s given up and I plan to rectify that. This woman deserves happiness. I know what’s she’s been going through before she was kidnapped; her struggles with paying bills. Her house should have been deemed uninhabitable too.
“How can you be so sure?” She repeats. It’s like she’s not listening to a word I’m saying. I can understand after her harrowing experiences and I have yet to know what they made her do in their clubhouse, or what they even did to her. Anger spikes in my blood and I struggle to keep it under wraps.
“I need to know what happened in that clubhouse, Hope,” I say to her in a gentle tone; a tone I don’t use very often but she needs to be made to feel safe.
The shake of her head and the misery in her eyes makes me want to punch something hard. She was only there for just under a week, but I guess being kidnapped and doing whatever someone wants can be a harrowing fucking experience. “Hope, I need to know.”
“I wasn’t touched in any way if that’s what you’re thinking. For the first five days, I was in a basement room, no wash, no food and little water. After that, when I was finally brought out from there, I was made to strip, dance around the pole, tend the bar… I was only allowed to wear small, barely there, dresses. I wasn’t meant to wear underwear either but I ignored that part. It’s the men’s gazes as they watched me dance. The sneering and the lust.” She visibly shivers at the memories and my anger goes up a notch. “I’ve never danced before in my life and they didn’t like the fact I wasn’t as good as the younger girls. They gave me the creeps and I know they go into the backstage dressing room sometimes so I tended to shove my dress over my head and run back to my room. They’re disgusting.”
I don’t know what to say that can make her feel better. I don’t think any words can comfort her. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Look, Hope, I’ve had men watching you
since your father died. But the prospect who watches you has a break when you’re at work because you usually stay there for lunch. This time you didn’t, and I’m so so sorry that my man wasn’t there to protect you. For that… the guilt eats at me.” Might as well tell her she was being watched, maybe that can comfort her in some way, though by the look on her face I highly fucking doubt that.
“You had men watching me? Are you insane?” Her eyes are wide as she stares me, lips pursed and I’m not sure whether she wants to pummel her small fists into my chest or just shout abuse at me.
“No point getting upset over it, babe. Your father told us to keep an eye on you and I couldn’t break a promise even if I wanted to.” The corner my mouth lifts in a smile, I hope she backs down because her father was the one that requested the protection.
“My dad was an arsehole. He’s the reason for this shit to happen in the first place!” she shouts, shooting to her feet and her fists clenched tightly by her sides.
“Sit the fuck down, Hope. No point getting angry at me for doing my job. I don’t have a clue what you’re on about but you need to explain.” My tone is not gentle any more. It’s hard, demanding. I’m not going to take shit from Hope just because of her father and who he was.
She sits down slowly, but a little further away from me than before, groans and then explains, “My dad was in debt with them and he used me as collateral damage. He’s not the man I thought he was, and I’m sure he’s not the man you thought he was either. The last few months of his life, I’d grown closer to him since he became a nomad, since he left you guys. Yeah, I’ve noticed the patch you’re wearing. Anyway, that was why they took me, I had to work off the debt he left in his wake.”