by Rose Briner
I make it across the kitchen and to the door holding my freedom. I reach for the doorknob and am pulled back onto my ass and scream as Jimbo uses my hair to drag me back across the kitchen and into the hallway.
“What did you think, you stupid whore? That you would go outside and scream and send me back to jail like the last time?” The breath leaves my body as he slams me over his shoulder and starts making his way back upstairs to our room. “Do you not remember what happened to you the last time I went to jail?”
The flashback of being tied up and tortured in the basement for more than a week has me struggling against him, hoping and praying he’ll lose his grip on me and let go. No such luck as he chuckles, knowing that I remember what happened the last time. He’s right; I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time. In the heat of the moment, I always forget the consequences of my actions. Hopefully tomorrow he won’t put me back out to work on the streets like he did last month when we didn’t have enough money to cover the expenses at the garage. I forgot to mention that my lovely boyfriend is also the local pimp. The other girls think I’m lucky because I get to live with him. I beg them all the time to switch places with me; I have yet to have anyone volunteer themselves up to exchange places with me. Probably because they know if they do, they won’t get to go home in one piece the way they do now. I know they think I deserve this for all the wrong things I’ve done.
I continue to struggle to get away as he tosses me down on our bed and reaches for the switch that’s on top of the dresser. So that’s what he was looking for up here. I still don’t know how he knows about my past with them.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, Natalie. I think you need to be punished,” Jimbo states as I cower in the top corner of our bed. He taps the end of the belt against his other hand as he walks back and forth at the foot of the bed before lunging forward and grabbing me by my leg and dragging me down to the edge.
The first hit from the switch is always the worst. “You’re a stupid, stupid girl Natalie. Look what you’ve made me do, look what you’ve become,” he shouts as he continually hits me on my legs and upper thighs. “Look what you’ve made me become.”
“This is for getting sent to jail, Nat. This one is for being the spawn on Lilian,” shouts grandma as she beats me on every part of my body that isn’t covered in clothing. My legs, arms, the exposed flesh on my stomach.
“This is for not bringing in enough business last month to keep the bill collectors from calling me to collect the rent. This one is for getting my car repossessed last week,” he shouts as he flips me over and beats my back in quick and short slaps.
“This is for getting kicked out of school.”
The voices in my head and the visions assault me as Jimbo beats me until I am forced to scream out in agony over and over again until my voice grows hoarse.
He lets out a sadistic laugh, knowing he’s gotten the reaction out of me that he wants and finally dropping the switch down to the floor beside him.
I’m too tired to turn over and fight against him anymore. My body suddenly feels like it weighs three hundred and fifty pounds as I struggle to breathe through the pain and the tears that are streaming down my face.
I expect him to turn me over to face him when he’s done; this is his routine. He beats me until he thinks I’ve submitted to him and stop fighting against him and then he turns me over and rapes me. That’s always to be expected.
What I don’t expect is the pain from the fist he brings down on my face as I lose sight in my left eye. The bastard punched me in the eye. I almost lose consciousness right then, but unfortunately, the blow isn’t enough for me to black out. He follows it with another hit to my right cheek, narrowly missing my other eye, before he uses my stomach as a punching bag. I knew he’d get there eventually. The last hit I remember before I pass out, is the hit to my abdomen before I finally, thankfully lose consciousness and my head is filled with visions of my experience from two years ago. It always fills my mind during times like these.
Chapter Two
Parker
“You stupid asshole, how dare you use me like that!” shouts the girl now standing at the edge of my bed. I prop myself up on my elbows as I watch her throw my clothes around the room, looking for her clothes so she can leave. I can’t help but laugh as I watch her throw a fit, completely naked. She wasn’t complaining ten minutes ago when she was riding my dick. Daisy and I have always had a strange relationship. Complicated is the way she likes her relationships.
I’ve told her at least half a dozen times that I don’t do commitments and she’s insisted that’s fine with her. But then she comes here to the clubhouse to ride my cock and then thinks when I allow her to sleep in my bed that it means I’ve all of a sudden changed my mind about the two of us. This is her own fault. I’ve never led her on. I told her from the beginning that I was just looking to have some fun; we’ve been doing this now for more than three years and yet she still thinks that one of these times I’m going to change my mind. Not going to happen now, not going to happen ever. Even my ex, Allison couldn’t change me, and we have a six-year-old together.
“Look, Daisy,” I say as I stand from the bed and watch her stop what she’s doing as she stares down at my still semi hard cock that’s dangling freely between us.
I ignore her as I pull on my shirt, jeans, and cut before sitting back down on the edge of the bed. “We’ve been over this time and again. You calling me an asshole isn’t going to change the reality between us. I just want to have some fun, and if you can’t accept that, then this cannot continue.”
She finally finds her clothes as I pull on my converse and stand from the bed so I can adjust myself.
“Whatever asshole,” she huffs as she throws what’s left of her hair over her shoulder and stomps out of my room and slams it shut behind her. The guys laughing at her at the end of the hall lets me know that the guys are already awake and has me sinking back down onto my bed for a few minutes. Daisy is a great girl, and all and I should be happy that she wants to be with me and not one of the other guys, but she’s just not what I’m looking for. I don’t know exactly what I am looking for, but she isn’t it. She’s a cute little pixie with her short blonde hair which she’s allowed to grow out and her smoking hot body, but she’s fucked her way through this club and several others. Probably more than I care to know about. No one wants to make a wife out of someone who has ridden the dick of every biker in Washington state. I want a woman who is mine and only mine. That’s part of the reason it didn’t work out with Allison. She had conceived Brandon before I figured out what kind of woman she was.
My phone buzzing in my pocket has me rubbing my hands down my face before reaching for the answer button. “This is Thunder,” I grunt into my phone as I stand from the bed and walk into my bathroom to brush my teeth and attempt to get rid of some of the stench Daisy left behind.
“Hello, is this Mister Parker Martinez?” a male voice bellows through the phone, making my head pound. No one calls me Parker Martinez anymore; this ought to be interesting. Sometimes I forget that’s even my name.
“It is,” I grunt into the phone before I hold the phone with my shoulder and proceed to put toothpaste on my brush and shove it into my mouth. I could care less that someone is trying to talk to me on the other end of the line. He can just deal with me brushing my teeth while he rambles on.
“This is Tucker Neilson, representative of the Court of Seattle,” I tune him out as I continue to brush my teeth. Figures a lawyer would be calling me at a time like this. I already have a shitload of crap to deal with, and now her lawyer is calling me.
“Wait what?” I spit out the toothpaste in my mouth and quickly rinse out my mouth before picking up the phone again. “Can you repeat that? I’m not sure I understood what you just said right now.”
“I said that Miss Grace is unable to continue to care for your son Brandon, so she is either demanding that you give more money to her or take sole custody
of your child,” he repeats, the annoyance clear in his voice.
“What do you mean she wants more money?” I shout into the phone as I punch a hole in the wall next to my bed as I walk out to where my bed is and throw myself back down onto it, the room suddenly spins around me. “I already give her more than half of my check every month, is she trying to bankrupt me or something? This can’t be legal that she’s asking for more money, I already give her more than I can afford. I have to live in the clubhouse to afford to pay her the money she demands.”
“I understand that Parker, which is why I recommend you take custody of the child. I’m not her council; I’m a third party who was hired to look into the financial circumstances and parenting capacity of Miss. Grace. Her lawyer wants to get more money from you, and the reason I am calling you is to inform you that you should take custody of your son and not give her any more money. It has come to my attention that she is not providing adequate care for the child. I don’t want him to end up in state custody,” I can hear the real genuine concern in his voice and breathe out a sigh of relief when I realize that he doesn’t want me to give more money to her.
“I’m going to need some time to take custody of him, I’ve been wanting to request full custody for a long time, but haven’t had the means to care for him due to the amount of money I’ve been giving Allison. Can I have a week or two to find a place to live before I go to the court to request full custody?” My head is already spinning as I try to figure out where Brandon and I will live if I end up with full custody. She barely lets me see the kid as it is.
“There is a hearing on the ninth of next month, do you think you can be ready by then?” I mentally calculate how much time that gives me and realize I can do it by then.
“That’s a little more than three weeks from now; I think I can do it,” I reply.
“Great, if you need more time, give me a call, and I can help you request an extension,” he gives me his number as I prepare to disconnect. “One more thing Mister Martinez, don’t mention this to Allison,” he states as he hangs up the phone.
They plan to blindside her, which is great, but I’ll be too busy trying to figure out where I am supposed to live. This place is definitely not suitable to raise a child. My room is a pigsty, and this is the cleanest it has been in a long time. That’s not saying much considering there are dirty laundry and half-eaten food littered all over the room. If my mother were still alive, I’m sure she’d beat me with the pizza boxes. I never did learn to cook, and pizza has been the cheapest option for me right now. Even the condoms I’ve been using have been supplied by Daisy.
“Probably should start buying my own,” I say out loud to myself as I force myself to stand and head for the closed door that separates me from the rest of the club. Based off of that look on Daisy’s face when she walked out of here earlier, she’s going to try anything to trap me. Bet she thinks getting knocked up is going to keep me around her permanently. I should introduce her to Allison so she can see that doesn’t work on me. Surprisingly those two have never met. Not very many traveling club whores out there.
I slowly open my door and listen to hear where the other guys are at before I shut the door behind me and turn the key to lock the door. I lean back against my closed door for several moments looking up and down the hall at the other rooms in this hallway. There are ten rooms total here that the members use. Most of the members don’t have rooms here, and I am one of the few that actually lives here. Only the original and senior members of the club have rooms here. As the VP I have my own room. My dad was President once upon a time; that was before he died. I was too young to take over at that point, so Drag took over in his place as former VP. Things have changed since Bear’s days.
I can hear most of the guys out in the main room shouting at the TV, no doubt trying to wind down from the party we had last night. Last night was the celebration of our fiftieth anniversary; there are a few members that are still alive when the club was founded. I’m only twenty-seven, so I’m not nearly old enough to have been there when the club was founded. I do enjoy hearing those stories; they had some good times, and I hope in fifty years I’ll have just as many stories as they do.
I avoid the main room when I hear some women in there I wish to stay away from for now and make a beeline for the kitchen to find something to eat and drink. I don’t mind having women here, but one of those voices is going to give me hell about not giving Daisy a fair chance, and that is the last thing I want to deal with right now. Preferably never.
I’m just finishing up the last bite of the turkey sandwich I made when Drag walks into the room with a somber look on his face. Drag, short for Dragon because he has a full dragon on his back and several other dragon related tattoos all over his body. He’s always been known for the smile that’s plastered on his face, so I know something is bothering him.
“What’s up, Drag? Long night?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything to me as he pulls a water out of the fridge and takes a long swig before slamming it down on the counter.
His silence continues as he stares off across the room, clearly avoiding my question. I’ve known Drag for a long time, and I know he doesn’t party here, his wife of forty years would kick his ass if he did, I’m just trying to get him to say something. Maybe I’ve done something to upset him, wouldn’t be the first time, certainly won’t be the last.
“I had an interesting phone call this morning,” I tell him hoping he’ll respond. The twitch in his jaw tells me he’s listening but isn’t going to respond, so I continue, “a representative from the court called and told me to request full custody of Brandon. Allison wants more money and stated she’s not using the money on him. He thinks he’d be better off with me. Any ideas on where I can get some cheap real estate around here?”
He takes another long swig the bottle and puts the cap on it before he finally turns to look at me for the first time since he walked in, “You can have the house out back. It’s empty, so we’ll have to help you get it cleaned up and furnished, but I own it, so you don’t have to worry about paying rent or anything like that. Use the money from the tattoo shop to buy whatever he needs and get him some clothes, so he can start attending school. I’m glad someone finally called you, Brandon needs to start school.”
I slam my fist down on the counter in front of me, “What do you mean finally? Don’t tell me you knew about this the entire time and didn’t tell me. How the fuck can she keep him out of school? He needs to start Kindergarten at least, so he has a chance to stay on track,” I force myself to take a deep breath when I feel myself getting all worked up.
“Wasn’t my place to say anything, we’ll get you a good lawyer and make sure you get custody. When is the hearing?”
“Three weeks,” I blow out a breath of frustration as I realize how close that date is.
“Good,” he replies. I look up him in shock, how can he be happy that the day is coming so soon? “I have a job that we need to take care of this weekend; we’ll be gone for a few days so pack up some clothes and supplies and be ready. I’m not quite sure exactly when we are leaving.”
“Why do I have to go? Can’t you get someone else to do it?” I ask in annoyance. I've had too much to drink and forget who I am talking to when he grabs me by the front of my shirt and drags me closer to him.
“Are you questioning my authority?” he growls, the mint on his breath hitting me in the face. Nope, he hasn’t been drinking. Thought maybe he has a massive hangover or something.
“I’m sorry boss, I’ll go get ready,” I reply slowly.
He may be a lot older than I am, but he’s scary when he gets like this. I may not know what’s going on, but whatever is bothering him is very serious. I haven’t seen him this serious since Bear died.
Chapter Three
Natalie
My head pounds as I attempt to open my eyes, only to find that my left one won’t open all the way. I struggle to sit up around the pain my entire body feels. I fall ba
ck down onto the bed as I whimper in pain. Something heavy is lying on me, and when I look around me for the source, I find Jimbo passed out on top of me, white around his nose from all the coke he’s taken. Then I remember some of what happened to me.
I very slowly try to push him off of me so as not to wake him and almost give up from the effort I have to exert to move him the four inches off of my body.
I finally succeed and slowly sit up with one hand holding my abdomen and the other holding the back of my head. My head is still a little damp from the hit to the wall I sustained earlier, but at least I didn’t die when I passed out, so I more than likely don’t need stitches for the injury I sustained.
I stand from the bed slowly and bite my lip as I struggle to balance myself. I feel my body and almost fist pump when I realize I still have my clothing on. That means he fell asleep before he could rape me, I think that might be the first time that’s happened.
I make my way to the door, stumbling most of the way and stop dead in my tracks when I hear rustling behind me. I turn slowly, half expecting to find Jimbo standing behind me, ready to drag me back to the bed, but he simply lets out a loud snore and turns to his side as he snuggles back into the bed and into the position he was once in. Luckily he didn’t realize his pillow –me- is missing from the bed.
I take a deep breath as I struggle to focus on the bathroom at the end of the hall. I don’t dare to use our bathroom, the noise from the shower might wake him up. I take it one step at a time as I slowly make my way down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door slowly behind me. I start to take my clothes off, but the pain I feel when I try to lift my arms above my head has me sinking against the closed door, and when my butt hits the padding of the carpet beneath me, I start to sob.