by Sara Crest
I had no idea what she did before she came here but her hair was a mess, a crazy ball of light brown fury that made her look like she got struck by lightning, despite that her beauty was a sight for sore eyes. Well she was, that handgun wasn’t.
Her breathing was short and quick as she struggled to hold onto the gun. I’ve had a gun pointed at me by countless numbers of men before, not to mention a handful of women, but this was different. She was moments away from crying, was she one of the club’s girls? One of the girls our guys passed around for fun and entertainment? We called them club property, but this girl was far too pretty to be one of the girls we practically kept on a leash for whenever we needed to get off.
She struggled with the gun for a few moments before finally cocking it, turns out it was real.
She walked over and pressed it against my head, jabbing me hard in the temple with it.
“Y-you’re gonna empty out that cash register over there” she stuttered out, she could barely even keep the gun steady to my head. It almost sounded like she didn’t want to do this, like she couldn’t believe those words came out of her own mouth.
“And why would I do that?”
“Just do it!” she yelled out.
“Guess you leave me no choice…” I replied.
I slowly stood up and walked around the bar, waiting to see if she would mess up. She kept the gun trained on me the whole time as I reached the cash register, opening it up and putting the money into a neat stack as I began to count it.
“You’re a lucky girl, there’s $1200 here in total, not bad for your first heist.”
I looked up at her as I walked back around the bar and approached her.
“This is your first heist isn’t it?”
She stayed quiet but kept the gun aimed straight for my chest as I walked closer to her, I couldn’t stop myself from checking her out. Even with that getup on and with that gun pointed right at me she was damn fine, but I had let this go on for long enough.
I held the money out to her and just like the amateur she was she reached out to grab it.
Wrong move.
5
(Hannah)
He grabbed my hands and thrust them up over my head. I pulled the trigger out of fear, shooting the ceiling and causing the gun to fall out of my nervous sweaty hands.
He pushed me up against a nearby wall and it fully sank in how badly I had just fucked up. I just really needed the money, I didn’t even need all of the $1200 just enough for a full tank of gas and a map to know where I was going.
He held me against the wall until I stopped struggling, it was so hot and I was so nervous that sweat was running down my chest, legs, and arms.
I looked up at the man as he squeezed my wrists tighter, our eyes met and I found myself caught in his deep blue stare. He had this annoyed yet smug look on his face, annoyed that I had tried to do what I did, smug because of how easily he turned this all against me.
I was a fish out of water, in over my head, I didn’t even think there would be anyone in the bar when I walked in. When I saw that it was unlocked I got so excited that I just barged in thinking I could make out with some money, now I was at the mercy of this man.
He had tattoos covering his arms, he was wearing a plain white t-shirt that wrapped tightly around his biceps and stuck to his muscular sweat covered chest. He towered over me, he must have been at least 6’5 although I never was good with heights. He had wavy brown hair and a face that looked like it was chiseled from stone, a man as good looking as him shouldn’t be so dangerous, although I guess it was my fault he was treating me this way since I pointed that gun at him.
He held me against the wall so effortlessly, whenever I struggled he stood strong like a rock, all I had to show for my efforts was a vein that popped out on his bicep whenever I pushed against him. In any other situation he would have been able to get my heart beating fast just by looking at me, in this moment he had the added benefit of holding me down.
Neither of us said a word, staring intensely into each other’s eyes as if we were waiting for the other to break the silence. There was an old ceiling fan that spun over the middle of the room, squeaking with every turn as it tried its best to battle the Arizona heat. I swear the beats from my heart and the squeaking from the fan matched in rhythm.
Finally he broke the silence.
“Who sent you here?”
I stayed silent for a few seconds, I didn’t know what he wanted, why would someone send me?
“What do you mean?” I asked trying one last time to slip my wrists from his grasp only to fail again.
“I can’t believe that a pretty little thing like you put on that ridiculous outfit and tried to rob this place in the early morning… so who sent you here? Were you going to kill me and make it look like you were only here to rob the joint so we wouldn’t track your club down? Which one of our rival MCs sent you after me.”
“Nobody sent me. I’m here because I have to be here, I’m here because I needed the money.”
“There’s something more to that” he replied. “You’re hiding something, I can see it in your eyes. I spent 2 years in jail and 15 years in this club and I’ve learned how to read people, I would be dead right now if I didn’t have that talent. So tell me, what are you hiding?”
I pulled my arms away, realizing that he had loosened his grip. He smirked and let his arms fall to his side, putting them in his jean pockets as he moved closer to me.
“I don’t have to tell you anything” I replied. Even without him grabbing onto my wrists I felt trapped, I had only just barely tasted freedom and now I was trapped again. What would he do to me? Should I make a run for it while I still can? God my feet were aching from the hot asphalt of the road, I didn’t know if I had it in me.
“Just because I let go of you doesn’t mean I let you free, I only just got out of the pen sweetheart I’m itching for a good interrogation.”
He had this smirk on him that just screamed “try me again.”
He ran his middle finger from the top of my forehead down the bridge of my nose until he stopped at my lips, touching them softly. As I exhaled I could feel my warm breath bouncing off of his fingers and hitting my upper lip. He lightly grazed my lips again as he continued down past my chin to my throat and then finally my heaving chest.
“What do you want from me?” I asked him.
“For you to tell me the truth, why are you here? Why should I let you leave so you can tell everyone about how you tried to rob me and I just let you walk? That you waltzed in here in a prom dress brandishing a pistol like you were the Harley Quinn herself.”
He circled his finger on my chest, toying with me, playing with me, feeling my heart beat faster and faster as he stared deep into my eyes.
“So again, tell me who sent you.”
I was exhausted, I was dehydrated, and I could already begin to feel myself break down just from his touch. I could feel him in my head, how was he so good at this? For years I resisted that bastard whose car I stole, I played into his games waiting for my chance to escape, but this stranger that stood before me was making me feel weak in my knees and fuzzy in my head.
“You don’t look so good” he said with a smirk.
I could feel the exhaustion kicking in, I couldn’t play this stranger’s games anymore, I didn’t even have the strength to give him any information even if I wanted to. Why should I tell him anyway? My secrets are my own, I shouldn’t even trust a man ever again after what happened to me.
I could feel myself drifting out of consciousness, the heat was taking me and I had sweat too much on the walk over here. I could feel my muscles beginning to cramp up as my head started to throb, I couldn’t tell if it was from his touch or if I was just that dehydrated. I hadn’t had a glass of water in more than a day and I just couldn’t hold on anymore. God I should have asked for a glass of water before I asked for the money, so much adrenalin was rushing through my body that I just couldn’t think straight a
t the time.
The heat finally took me as I lost my footing and stumbled forward. The last thing I remembered was the floor coming right at me only for it to be halted in its path. I felt myself being lifted up before feeling the comforting embrace of another person against me, an embrace that I had longed to feel for years, the embrace of this total and complete stranger.
I glimpsed over at the ceiling fan, it’s rhythmic movement was all that was needed to push me over the edge.
6
(Axel)
I never expected that when I’d finally make it back to my apartment after two years in the pen that I’d be holding a passed out girl in a goddamn prom dress. It didn’t help that I had to bring her back on my bike, I had to keep her draped over my lap and balance her every couple of seconds or else she would have fallen off.
I opened the door to my apartment, the place was untouched. It wasn’t in my name so the police had no idea where I lived, meaning they didn’t tear it apart looking for evidence when they arrested me.
I had the girl in my arms, her face was nestled in my chest as she drifted in and out of consciousness. It was pretty uncommon for people around here to get heat stroke, why was this girl this dehydrated?
I threw her on my bed and then walked over to my kitchen. I opened up one of my drawers and dug around until I found an old pair of police handcuffs, I used to use them all the time for interrogations. Nothing scares a man more than being handcuffed to a radiator, seeing me walk back and forth with a crowbar, a lead pipe, or a baseball bat as I taunted him. I could get a man to break easy, but I’ve never had to work my magic on a woman before, especially a woman that was as pretty as this girl.
“Just my luck, I get a girl in my bed and it’s for all the wrong reasons.”
I walked back over to her as she stirred a little bit on the bed, still trying to regain consciousness.
I grabbed her arm and cuffed it to my bed frame, this girl was going nowhere.
I walked back to my kitchen and got a glass of water bringing it over to her. I put my hand behind her head and lifted it up, I wasn’t going to let this girl die of dehydration in my own bed, besides I still had to find out more about her.
I put the glass to her lips and ordered her to drink. In her half conscious state she managed to gulp down the whole glass before having a coughing fit.
I let go of the back of her head and let her rest on my pillow. I couldn’t tell if she was unconscious or if she was now sleeping from exhaustion but either way I had her here. Once she came to I would be able to find out more about her.
You might think what I’m doing is petty, to hold a young girl against her will after a failed attempt at robbing me, but the thing was you never knew what a rival MC would do to get the jump on you. For all I knew it was a test, they could have found out I was released today and sent her to see if jail had turned me soft. You’d be surprised how many of our guys walk out of jail and want nothing to do with the club, that thought never even crossed my mind. These tattoos were more than just for show, they bound me to this club in mind and body. Our MC’s ceiling was so high, I just wanted to help Clay lead us to our full potential. Not to mention get back at the state trooper that killed my friend.
My phone started ringing and I walked over to go pick it up, I had to get myself a cellphone now that I was on the outside, I can’t just wait around the house for people to call me with important info.
I looked at the caller ID to see “Wyatt” printed in bold letters, I should have been pissed at him for leaving me alone in that bar to almost be shot by this girl but I didn’t want anyone to know about her until I got the info I wanted out of her.
I picked up the phone and put it to my ear, before I could even say hello Wyatt was giving me an earful.
“Axel? Axel you gotta come down here the boys brought in something that’ll bring the club in a couple grand.”
A couple of grand? We’re getting excited over a couple of grand now? What has Clay been doing since I got thrown in? A few thousand dollars used to be chump change to us.
“Alright alright where are you at?” I asked as I turned and watched the girl stir a little bit in my bed.
“Down at my garage, we’re trying to unload this thing quick before anyone reports it gone.”
I sighed “alright I’ll be down there.”
I took out a roll of duct tape from my cupboard, going back over to the girl and tying her other arm to the bed before putting a strip over her mouth. Looks like I would have to wait to do a number on her.
As I secured her arms to the bed I noticed that her wrists seemed red, as if something was constantly rubbing on her skin. Even for the women I knew who wore a lot of bracelets it was odd to see someone’s skin this red and bruised. Who knows, maybe it was just oddly placed sunburn.
“Shame I’ll have to try and crack a girl as pretty as her, if she had walked into the bar without that gun and a better attitude maybe I would have let her get close to me. Or maybe I would have just used her for a little bit of fun before kicking her out of my bed.”
I looked down at her, half passed out and half sleeping.
“What would make a girl like that do what she did?”
7
(Axel)
“About time you fucking got here” Wyatt said as he wiped his oil covered hands on and old rag.
Wyatt ran a bike and body shop, in our earlier days we used to jack cars and sell them for parts by using his garage to disassemble them. From the looks of it he was doing that right now. He had two guys with him practically tearing apart an expensive looking car, we always had a rule back when we were younger and that was never go after the expensive shit. What do you think a cop cares more about finding? A Mercedes built in the past few years or a 2001 Toyota? Exactly.
“Is that a Mercedes? You jacked a Mercedes? I only just got out of jail and you’re trying to bring attention to us already?”
“Relax princess we didn’t jack it. You’re not gonna believe this but we found this baby empty on the side of the road. Best part is we ran the plates and they’re for a Honda, ain’t nobody looking for this car.”
One of Wyatt’s workers started laughing “hey Wyatt should we show Axel what we found near the car on the side of the road?”
“Yeah yeah go ahead.”
The worker walked behind the car and came back out with something in his hands, tossing it over to me.
I reached out and caught it, it was a purple high heel, dirty from the desert with the sole partially melted from the hot asphalt. Wait a minute, that girl was barefoot wasn’t she? Was this her shoe? And if that was the case was this her car?
“Did you find any body along with it?” I asked. “A guy dead in the driver’s seat? Any sign at all who might have owned the car?”
“All I know is there were some light brown hairs on the headrest of the driver’s seat, the car also smelled a little bit like perfume. Sounds like some girl got a little tipsy and took daddy’s car out for a joyride and then bailed.”
“Where did you find the car anyway?”
“About two miles away from the Double H, why what do you care?”
“I was just wondering” I said as I inspected the high heel. It did look like it was about her size, and the hair color matched. It had to be hers, why would she be driving a Benz though?
All I could think of was that the girl was lying about not being involved with another gang. Why else would she have a car like this, a car without its registered plates, if she wasn’t working with someone? Why else would she be so willing to just bail on a car that was worth at least 35 grand? She would have had to have gone into this whole situation with the knowledge that she might not walk out alive.
Who sent her after me? Who was keeping track of when I got out of jail?
“Is this really what we’ve come to Wyatt? Getting excited over making a few grand for the club? We used to have big dreams for the Desert Vultures and now we’re right back to stripping ca
rs for part money?”
Wyatt sighed as he tossed aside the oil covered rag he used to wipe his hands.
“Things have been different since you got pinched, having to bury Zeke took a lot of the fire out of us. Not to mention the cops have been up our ass absolutely everywhere, we barely even hold the town now. We have no money coming in and to be completely honest we’ve lost some damn good people to desertion in the past couple of months, can’t say I blame ‘em.”
He looked back at the men as they stripped one of the doors off, scratching his arm before looking back at me.
“We also got the Scorched Satans muscling their way into our territory. It’s been pretty recent but the cops are just letting it happen, they only intervene when we retaliate... I wanted to tell you all of this last night but I didn’t want to ruin your homecoming.”
“Alright well who’s their leader? Maybe if I get a one on one with this guy I can find out what the hell they want and we can work on a compromise.”
“That’s the thing” Wyatt replied. “We don’t know who their leaders are, we’ve tried to get some info on them but we don’t know who their president is, their vice president is, hell we barely even have any member names. They’re keeping their shit locked tight, personally I’d say put them all in the ground and sort out their names for when we order their tombstones. They’re hitting us hard and we can’t retaliate without the cops on us, we gotta figure something out.”
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, looks like I had a lot more work to do than I thought to get this club back on track. I’d like to think that most men in my position would just bail, but I wasn’t like most men.