The human body’s capacity for pain is as extraordinary as it is a curse. Organs don’t give up, they shut down so that they can live to fight another day. The circulatory system pushes blood through our veins to heal damaged tissue, skin, and bones. Broken bones mend, knit back together thanks to our body's efficiency. But right now, at this moment, for the last however long I’ve been here, I don’t see my body’s capacity to survive as a miracle. It’s a fucking curse.
I was raised to be a strong woman in a world of men, and I am. I always have been, or I thought I was. But what I’ve endured would test even the strongest of women, and now I’m left considering whether everything I knew about myself, everything I had convinced myself of is a lie.
My broken bones will heal. Bruises, welts, and cuts will fade. Scars don’t bother me and never have, so they don’t even rate a mention. The horrors these men have perpetrated; the way they forced themselves on me, the memories of one, two, three men at a time violating me ruthlessly, brutally, savagely will hopefully dull given enough time. But the mutilation of my soul will stay with me forever. Maybe longer.
I didn’t cry out when my arm was wrenched at such an angle it could do nothing but splinter as the bone piercing my skin. As their knives trailed the skin of my belly, cutting, digging, dragging through the flesh, I clamped my jaw shut and held back my screams. I wanted to cry, beg, plead for them to show mercy when they wrapped their hands around my throat cutting off the supply of oxygen to my lungs, but fear took hold and I was paralyzed by it. By the time the first of many men who would come came into the room to strip the last of the clothes from my body, I was numb. Numb to everything other than the desperate, clawing need to escape. Even in my darkest hour, I found the strength buried deep, the will, and resolution to want to survive.
If I thought I’d been strong before, what happened next proved I didn’t know the meaning of the word.
As their hands cruelly kneaded my breasts, the insides of my thighs, and grabbed at every inch of flesh not already being groped by another, I learned what the word cruelty meant. There was no gentleness in their touch, not that I ever believed there would be. One after the other they thrust into me until I was raw, bleeding, and torn. My insides were on fire, burning, I could scarcely bear the pain as they drove inside me spilling their seed over my belly, breasts and face.
Taking turns wasn’t enough for them, though. They didn’t want to wait for the last to finish with me before the next began. No part of me was left untouched. Not one. My mouth, my ass, my pussy, they took them all and they did it all at once. The violence they pounded into me with felt like I was being violated by shards of glass. I was restrained, gagged, helpless to fight back, and by the end I didn’t have the strength to lift my head let alone scream in agony. My last wish, the only thing I prayed for as they stole the last of my fight was that they took all of their anger and pent up rage out on me. Not Beth. Not Bec. Me.
I don’t want you to think for one second this was a selfless prayer, though because it wasn’t. My pleas to the God I no longer believed in weren’t because I was sacrificing myself for them. No, it was because I knew I could endure. Not because I was tougher, or more resilient than they are, but because I wouldn’t give myself a choice not to.
Less than what I guess is an hour ago the last man pulled himself from my body, finishing himself off by running his penis over my face until he came in my hair, over my lips, and down the bruised, tender skin of my neck. My humiliation was complete when he spat just to the left of my head barely missing my cheek and told me I was a good whore.
My thoughts have drifted to one man who I know would have kept me safe, and to some degree he has. Memories of Fury have kept my mind from spiraling into the same pit of black despair as my body. Remembering his smile when he thought I wasn’t looking, the way he watched out for me without making his presence known, and the times he would talk to me late at night when no one was around to warm the cold recesses of my soul.
We might not be friends in the common sense of the word, but I know he cares about me. A lot. I know he worries about me too. Telling him, albeit via text, that I was moving had upset him. At the time, I didn’t know why, he barely talked to me or anyone anymore, and I honestly didn’t think he would care. As long as I was safe, I didn’t believe Fury would try to stop me, but I was wrong.
As soon as I told him I was moving to Texas, Fury lost his mind and he did it in a big way. No one knows this, and I would never tell because of what it could mean for the relationship he has with my Dad, but Fury paid me a visit after receiving my text. It was late, I was on my own in bed in the small apartment I rented above the florist in town when he came to see me. I had thought someone was breaking in until a hand clamped around the wrist attached to the hand I was holding my phone in. I’ll never forget that night. It’s one I have recalled a hundred times since being locked up here.
In essence, Fury forbade me from leaving Blackwater unless it was to move to Furnace. He told me that it wasn’t safe for me in the city and he wouldn’t have it. When I told him what I did was none of his business, Fury informed me without hesitation that everything I did was his business. According to him, if I knew what was good for me, I would do as he said. And then he kissed me.
It was the first and the only kiss we’ve shared, and the memory of it, the feel of his lips on mine is burned into my brain. Everything about how his goatee tickled the sensitive skin around my mouth, the way his tongue plundered, stroked, and commanded mine is etched into my mind. It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was one of propriety. With that one kiss, I knew I would never love another man the way I loved Tanner Michael Scott. Never.
Like I said, before they started, before they took all I had, stole the only piece of me I had yet to give anyone. What I had yet to give him. I thought I knew what strength was. What it meant and how it felt to be strong, but I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong, because if I thought that what I had just suffered through made me strong I was highly mistaken. And it was only when I watched the toughest man I have ever met break that I would learn the real meaning of the word and how little of it I had.
CHAPTER THIRTY
~ Boss ~
“K & R does not stand for kidnap and ransom; it stands for killing and retribution.”
- A fact of life
Assessing the men sitting, standing, taking up every spare inch of space church had to offer, I bellow,
“Quiet.” We’ve spent too long going over the plan we’ve formulated, dissected, strategically set in motion already, and I for one am not going to sit here a second longer than absolutely fucking necessary while these assholes fight amongst themselves.
“Listen up, because in ten minutes we ride,” I demand when the volume in the room decreases to a dull roar. “The new Intel we just got doesn’t make a lick of fucking difference to what we’ve got planned, it’s just that, Intel. The fact that the Vasquez Cartel’s involvement in this minimal at best, meaning, their only involvement was to set up the meet between Hells Riders and Markham doesn’t change a fucking thing.”
“I’ve gotta say, I’m not on the same page as you on that, Boss,” Diesel challenges. “Sure, it’s good to know we're not gonna need to take down a bunch of suit wearing goons along with the rest of the assholes, means less cleanup for us, but the fact that they’re backing any play Hells Riders make isn’t making me feel all warm and fuzzy.”
“It might from the outside look like they’re on board with whatever these fuckwads are up to, but the Intel tells a different story, brother,” I reply with more patience than I have. “You’ve had the same briefing I have, everyone in this fucking room has. Vasquez Cartel, specifically Oscar and his gorillas, aren’t even in the goddamn state and haven’t been for over a week. Mace doesn’t share often, but what he does is solid, and given the situation we’re in he would share shit if he wasn’t willing to stake his life on it. Oscar Vasquez flew out of Boulder Municipal Airport eight days ago. Flight plan that was logged listed he
was headed for Columbia and he hasn’t re-entered the good old U.S of A since.”
“We know Rioters, especially their Prez doesn’t trade on unreliable information, Boss, but you know just as well as we do that there’s plenty of ways to get in and out of the country undetected,” Roam adds bluntly.
“Doesn’t matter, Roam because he isn’t fucking here. Mace reached out to him directly, put a call into him a couple of hours ago and verified he is where he says he is. He shared what’s going on back here and got his assurances he’s not involved. Jesus,” I hiss. “The motherfucker didn’t have the first clue what Nix was up to.”
Spinning on his heel, Mad turns to face the table asking,
“Yeah, and what assurances are those, his word? Because I’ve gotta tell you, I’m not all fired up to take that to the bank, Boss. That fucker is as dirty as they come. For Christs sake, he’d sell his fucking mother down the river if it’d benefit him in some way. You know that I know that, fuck, he’d admit it to you.”
“You’re not wrong, but that shit tends to change when your kid has a bead on her forehead when you’re being asked to give those assurances, brother,” I answer tersely.
“I bet,” Mad grins deviously. “I take it seeing as the gravity of the situation was adequately communicated, Oscar’s guarantees will hold up after that bead is gone?”
“No question,” I say with a nod.
Breaking into the conversation, Saint, who’s been deathly silent throughout prompts,
“I don’t give the first fuck who’s in the game. What I want to know is when the hell we’re getting out of here so I can see to my girl?”
Saint, Tank, Glock, and Reaper along with Adelyn arrived almost exactly two hours after he disconnected our call. They entered the clubhouse, Ade breaking off to sit with the women filling the kitchen and dining area while the men made their way to back to my office to get briefed on what we knew so far. I can’t say I’m not pleased as fuck, Reaper got Ade to agree to make the ride down because I am. I’ve got the sinking feeling she’d going to be needed, and for more than just a day or two. But what was a surprise, was the other woman that came with them.
Tank’s only daughter, Avery’s best friend and cousin, Blaine Adams, rode into the clubhouse forecourt on the back of her Dad’s bike looking as terrified as we all felt. She didn’t hide her fear or pain Blaine wore it written all over her face. Seeing it, watching her break apart in Ade’s arms when they were told there hasn’t been any further development since the last time they’d checked in took everything I had in me not to break apart too.
Where Avery is tough, vibrant, outspoken, and extroverted, Blaine is her opposite. More than once I’ve wondered how they made their friendship work, but seeing them together I get it. They balance each other, two halves that make a whole. Together they are fucking unstoppable. They’re a force to be reckoned with. So much so, Sarge has voiced his concern that if they put their heads together long enough, they’d take over the world. And I don’t doubt they would.
Blaine’s had it tougher growing up than Avery did. Coming from a family with three brothers, a father who’s one of the most feared Enforcers this side of the Canadian border, and a clubhouse full of Uncle’s who’d lay down their lives for her, Blaine knows what it means to be sheltered. And she has from the time she took her very first breath.
Growing up that way, still living like that, Blaine learned some valuable skills women twice her twenty-six years haven’t yet. She’s watchful, a quiet observer a lot like Fury. She’s seen plenty, heard more, and the Devil’s Spawn brothers trust her with secrets they wouldn’t even share with their old ladies. There’s a lot to be said for a woman who earns the confidence of men like us, people who risk incarceration or worse because they opened their mouths.
Part of me understands why she’s here. Fuck, her best friend, her lifelong friend has been abducted, but what I don’t get is why with the danger that’s surrounding us Tank would bring his baby girl into a hostile situation. That shit is not like him, which prompts me to ask,
“Tank, no disrespect, but what the fuck? Blaine’s got no business being here, and I figured you of all people would have a mind to that.”
Fisting his hands in front of him, he growls,
“You wanna try keep my girl from being here when you bring her cousin home then have at it, but I had no hope in hell of keeping her off the back of my bike when she heard what was going on. Shit, Boss,” he groans. “Blaine might look harmless, but she’s a fucking hellcat when she’s riled. I couldn’t pry her off my bike with a crowbar when she overheard me telling her Mom where I was headed. I can guarantee she won’t be getting in your way, or any of the brothers. I laid it out for her before we took off, so there’s no question she’ll sit her ass here until she’s told differently.”
Nothing I can do about it now, so giving him a chin lift I go on to say,
“Right, we’ve got less than forty minutes before Jump and Gage set the charges at the warehouse. All of you know where you’re positioned, and what to do when they go off. I want to stress one last time that this is an in and out. We’re not focusing on collateral damage or how many of the bastards we can take out, we’ll get to that after we know our women are safe and whole. The primary objective is extraction, not eradication, brothers. Saint, you’re with Gage, Cash, and Fury when we let him loose. Glock, Tank, and Mad, you’ll meet up with Sly half a mile out and he’ll direct you to the west side of the warehouse where he’s got the clubs van waiting at the extraction point. Doc is already on site ready to do field triage. Reaper, you’re with me, Diesel, and Glock. Saint’s crew is taking the north side entrance, we’re on the south. Two doors, one to a sub-basement level storage locker, and the other opens directly into the hall that leads to the offices at the back.”
Singling out Spook, Deke, Hail, and Roam, I order,
“You boys are on lookout. We’ll be radio silent two miles out, so if you’ve got something to share, you text me, Diesel, Saint, Reaper, or Gage. Mace has his boys covering your backs, so keep watch and for fucks sake don’t shoot one of them by accident. Heads up, it’ll be Midas, Spider, and Hum with you boys, and none of those brothers will take a bullet from any one of you too kindly.”
Looking to Mad, I question,
“Lonnie get ahold of her sister at Tri-County?”
“Yeah,” he announces quietly. “I hate asking it of her after what went down with Madison, but she’s been prepped that we might be sending them her way.”
Leah, Lonnie’s sister works as an ER nurse at Tri-County Hospital and has done for the past three years. Ten years ago, her best friend Madison was, and still is the only woman to date to survive being attacked by a group of Hells Riders members one night on her way home from work. Brutally beaten and savagely gang-raped by four men, Madison spent weeks in the hospital afterward and months, years following undergoing extensive therapy. Two failed suicide attempts, a potentially fatal drug overdose, and a stint in rehab later, Madison moved away to live with her grandparents on the outskirts of Dallas.
Leah wasn’t just shaken up by her friend’s attack because they were close, although that would have been reason enough for any woman to freak the fuck out, more so it was due to the fact she was supposed to have been with her that night. If Leah hadn’t gotten grounded that afternoon for skipping classes that day, she’d have suffered the same fate as Madison. A realization she struggles with still.
“Noted, but brother,” I say lowering my voice. “We’ve got to know she’s gonna be able to handle this shit with care if we need to call on her. I can’t have her losing it if we bring our women in. If she can’t deal, you need to tell her to come up with an excuse to get the fuck out of there if and when she gets the call.”
“Lonnie’s with her and she’ll keep her shit in check,” he assures me. “If she can’t, my woman will see to it that Leah doesn’t cause us any headaches, yeah?”
Agreeing, I rise from my chair as does Die
sel and Saint.
“Last thing before we ride, Fury,” I say referring to my Enforcer, who is currently locked down in one of the holding cells in the crypt. “We don’t have time for this shit, but it’s gotta be said. Fury is taking this harder than any man in here, and all of my brothers know why. It’s not my story to tell and I won’t be recounting it,” I state resolutely looking at the brothers wearing the Devil’s Spawn patch. “Needless to say, I’d caution all of you to have a mind to that and keep an eye on him. Any of you get the feeling he’s gonna go maverick and jeopardize this operation, you text and you do it until you get a response from me. Hostilities escalate, you’re in a situation you can’t do that then you have his back and make sure there’s no blowback on him. I can’t stress enough the extent of the rampage he’ll go on if this shit doesn’t go down as planned isn’t something any of you will want to bear witness to.”
Shooting a look designed to communicate I’ll fill him in later to Saint and his brothers, I finish by saying,
“Keep sharp, stay focused, be safe. Now let’s fucking ride.”
“Wait,” Sarge growls. Holding his cell out to me he says, “You’re gonna want to take this, Boss.” At my scowl, he adds, “It’s Lord.”
Snatching the outstretched phone, I demand,
“Talk to me.”
Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas Page 30