Marcus was furious. Anticipating his next move, I grabbed hold of his jacket to stop him.
“Leave it,” I urged him.
He stared at me with so much hate. “Shut the hell up.”
I swear his baby blue eyes turned dark grey, almost black, and it scared the shit out of me. That was the first time he’d ever spoken to me that way, and I didn’t like it.
The Tyrants casually crossed the road, intent on following the men. The one who'd made the mistake of looking at me decided to make a run for it. His friends turned around to see what he was running from and got the same idea. Only the Tyrants felt it was an invitation to chase them. If they’d stood still, and held their ground, I’m sure they would have gotten off easier.
The Tyrants laughed and yelled with pleasure. They loved the chase. They wanted action. I ran after them, trying to keep up. I arrived to see them beating up two of the blokes. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but that didn’t matter. Nothing I could have said would have made them stop. I’d seen it too many times.
I had to condone violence whether I wanted to or not. It was part of my life, but never part of me. Violence was the only shortcoming I could think of. As a Tyrant, I was expected to fight and be violent, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the closeness and love I got from the gang. They made me feel needed, and I enjoyed the respect. People feared me, and that felt good. Wasn’t that feeling worth fighting for? If I thought the person deserved a kicking, then I suppose I enjoyed it too. However, I would have preferred to live my life without violence.
I looked around for Marcus and saw him at the top of the road savagely kicking my admirer, who was lying still on the ground. I saw myself in the same position, outnumbered by Monica and her friends. I remembered how it felt.
“Stop it!” I shouted. “He’s had enough, leave him alone.”
I turned to see if I could grab the Tyrants’ attention. The others had finished and were laughing as their victims groaned on the floor.
“Dylan, do something. He’s gonna kill him,” I screamed.
They heard my call for help and came running. I couldn’t wait. I had to stop him. Marcus was like a crazed animal, repeatedly kicking the man in his ribs, stamping on his face, trying to inflict as much pain as he could. I’d never seen him so enraged.
I grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away. “Stop it!”
He shoved me so hard, I lost my balance and fell to the floor, bashing my head on the pavement.
Dylan reached us first and grabbed hold of Marcus. Even then, he struggled with his brother. He was like a madman. The others arrived. Clay tried to help Dylan. He held Marcus in a headlock and dragged him away from the man on the floor. But Marcus was too strong for just two of them. I don’t know where he got his strength from. It took another three Tyrants to control him. Dylan left Marcus in the hands of Max and Tony and helped me off the floor. I held my head in my hands, shaking. Dylan put his arm around me.
Marcus snapped out of his trance and ran over to me. Dylan stepped away.
“Oh, Jesus, Jade, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
He moved my hand away from my head to see if I was hurt then put his arm around me. He stank of sweat, and his T-shirt was soaked through. I felt his heart pounding against his chest; he sounded out of breath, breathing hard and raspy. He certainly got a good workout on the poor man. I didn’t dare look down to see the mess.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he told me.
That’s when I made up my mind never to ever interfere again. Marcus was a dangerous man, and I hoped I would never be on the other end of that rage. I promised myself I would tread carefully from then on.
Clay was seeing a nice woman called Beth. They met at a Harley convention in Matlock. I thought she was cool. As soon as I met her, I knew we would become friends for life. She was like me in so many ways, tough and funny. She lived life to the full, and could always get herself out of sticky situations.
One time we were at the entrance of a summer fair. Marcus decided to gate crash. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the money to pay the entrance fee, he wanted to see how much he could get away with. With Beth as our decoy, we climbed the surrounding fence and mingled with the paying guests. While security chased her, we casually walked around the stalls. Ten minutes later, Beth turned up, almost in hysterics as she had given them the runaround and lost them in the car park. They were still looking for her.
I was happy for Clay. Him being such a great guy, he deserved to be happy. He and Beth were well suited. Clay was the only other Tyrant with a steady girlfriend. As far as I know, he was always faithful.
I saw women come and go. However, no other woman, not even Beth, became a member of the Tyrants. Yes, Beth hung out with us sometimes, but she wasn’t in the gang, she didn’t wear our colours, and she didn’t have a ring. No matter how many sexual favours the women gave, no other female bikers were allowed to join the Tyrants, and that made me feel special.
I imagined it was hard for the guys to keep a steady relationship. From what I had seen, women threw themselves at them, and they didn’t say no very often. Okay, people knew me around town as Marcus’s Lady, however, there was always a woman who thought she was better than me; a female that wanted to take my place. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I had to physically fight to keep my role of the President’s ole lady.
Dylan was a strange one; I couldn’t quite work him out. He was forever flirting with women, and enjoying every minute of the attention, yet he never brought a woman back to the house. Definitely the quietest of the lot, he rarely used verbal communication, speaking more with his eyes than his mouth. I would watch him listening and looking at everything around him. It was as if he was secretly taking notes in his head.
He wasn’t shy, far from it. He was soft-hearted, only there was a darker side to Dylan, which only showed when he fought. I wondered if Marcus were not the president of the Tyrants, would Dylan have stayed with the club. He loved his brother and was always looking out for him; watching, without being physically protective. Dylan looked like he belonged in the Tyrants, and acted as though he fitted in, but was he genuinely happy?
Like I said, things were looking up. Dylan had accepted me, and we seemed to be getting along great. He was like the brother I never had. Yet a small incident aroused my suspicions about his true feelings for me. I was attracted to him. I won’t deny that. I flirted with him, and he flirted back, neither of us took it seriously, or so I thought. I was too infatuated with Marcus to notice the signs.
The afternoon was hot and sticky. Dylan was fiddling with his bike outside, and I assumed he could do with a drink to cool himself down. Lying stretched out beside his bike, naked from the waist up, he cursed loudly.
The tan on his well-toned chest glowed. What a magnificent body. His hands were black with oil, and somehow, he’d managed to smudge his face. I wanted to reach over and wipe it off. I controlled the urge, and sat down, watching him work on his beautiful machine. Painted orange and black, the tank held the appearance of an animal print. It was a shame he didn’t look after his bike as Marcus did. I could see it becoming a collector’s piece if he’d taken better care of it.
I fantasised about his greasy hands all over my naked body. God, what was I thinking? I needed to get a grip. I shook the image from my head. I had to leave, only it seemed impolite to walk away without speaking to him.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Gaskets fucked.”
I nodded as if I knew what one was.
“Hey, pass me that spanner.”
I bent down to reach it, but then remembered what skirt I was wearing.
I had my favourite black mini on, great for the weather, but not so great for bending over in. I imagined Dylan was getting a right eyeful. Especially as I was wearing a thong. I handed him the spanner, blushing. He looked flustered and agitated.
“Sorry about that.” I wasn’t sorry. I never meant for it to happen but I was
glad it did. I should have been mortified especially with the way Dylan was staring.
“Not a problem,” he uttered weakly. “I could do with a cold shower anyway.” Throwing the spanner on the ground, he sat up and leaned forward. Rested his arms on his legs, he gazed at me. “You know, Jade, teasers often get more than they bargain for.”
We stared at each other, a kind of standoff. However, the intensity of his lustful fire was too much for me, and I turned away. I wanted to say something, but I thought it wise to leave before I said the wrong thing. I turned and marched back into the house without looking back. I felt his glare burning into me. I was secretly thrilled that I’d affected him so profoundly.
I tried to forget about the incident, except Dylan wouldn’t let me. I swear, every time I caught his eye he’d be wearing an amused grin, and I always looked away, confounded. It puzzled me. Why did his look cause such an impact on me? I was happy with the way things were, so why was I making things awkward?
Something then happened, which changed my life forever.
I remember it so clearly. It happened on a Tuesday evening. I’d just finished work and was closing up the shop. I was always met by one of the Tyrants, and if they couldn’t make it, they’d call ahead, and I’d phone for a taxi. Six-thirty, and no phone call. Dennis, the centre’s security guard, was waiting to lock up. I had no choice but to leave. Marcus wasn’t happy about me walking anywhere on my own. I had a reputation around town and possessed enemies without making any. Being a member of the Tyrants brought respect and standing; nevertheless, there was a downside as well.
It was a warm night, so I got the stupid idea to walk home. Actually, the opportunity for a walk seemed too good to pass up.
I approached our subway, when I heard laughter and the sound of shaken spray cans coming up the stairs. I pictured kids spraying graffiti on the walls. The insolence of them, I thought. I wanted to catch them in the act, so I took off my noisy stilettos and tiptoed down the steps. Without my leathers, I didn’t look like Jade from the Tyrants. I was dressed as Jade, the shop assistant. Nonetheless, I could still act like a Tyrant. I knew what to say to make them wish they’d never stepped foot in our subway.
I had the biggest shock of my life when I turned the corner. It wasn’t kids spraying over the Tyrant tag; it was two of the Vipers. I turned to run. Regardless that I was dressed in a black skirt and white blouse, the hair gave me away. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, knocking into someone who was coming down. I tried to push pass, but the person grabbed hold of my shoulders.
“Hey, slow down. What’s your hurry?” he asked.
I looked up to see who it was.
“Well, well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. Fancy bumping into you, Jade.”
I was cornered.
Two Vipers stood behind me, and another blocked my exit. I’d never felt so vulnerable.
“Get out of my way,” I demanded.
“Or what?” he questioned. “There’s no one here to help you.”
I started to feel uneasy and anxious. “Get out of my fucking way,” I yelled.
I was still holding my shoes in my hands, so I turned and swung a heel at the first head I saw. The Viper screamed with pain, the other two made a sudden grab for me. One had a hold of my arms, the other lifted my legs, and they dragged me up the stairs. Next thing I knew, they threw me into the back of a blue Ford van, parked on the road beside the subway. Two of the Vipers climbed into the back, the other jumped into the driver’s seat and sped off down the road. I was terrified and pleaded with them to let me go.
“We’re not gonna hurt you, Jade. Just having a bit of a laugh, hey, Chad?”
The driver nodded. “Yeah, chill out. We heard you were good at gang banging. So which one’s your favourite? Bet you’ve done them all ‘aint ‘ya? A slag like you?”
I knew from the moment they threw me into the van what they wanted, it seemed useless trying to reason with them. My only hope for escape was to fight and try to run. Normally, I would have my blade with me, but I never took it to work. That was going to change. As I had no weapon to defend myself with, physical action seemed my only option.
They didn’t think twice about what they were doing. They told me I deserved what was going to happen, and that they were looking forward to it. One of the Vipers tried to kiss me on the neck. I pushed him away, but that excited him and he started getting rough. I screamed and kicked them both. Surprised and stunned by my sudden wildness, the Vipers tried to restrain me, but my anger had risen to such an extent that I got out of their grip twice. But not long enough to get to the door.
“For Christ sake, Jake, shut her up,” Chad ordered.
Jake hit me hard across my face; the force of the blow threw me against the side of the van. I lay still, too shocked and scared to move. The Vipers cursed aloud, angry at my outburst. I eavesdropped on their conversation and heard Jake call to Colin, the other Viper. Chad was arguing with the other two, worried about the consequences of what they were about to do. Two against one wasn’t great odds, and hopes of them letting me go diminished.
I remained on the floor, quiet and still, thinking about how much I loved Marcus, and how I needed to be in his arms. I closed my eyes and pictured the Tyrants, remembering the good times we’d known, the laughter we’d shared.
I sensed the van was still moving, yet there had been silence for a while, so I opened my eyes and sat up. What I saw frightened and disgusted me.
Both of the Vipers had their sleeves rolled up, plastic tubes tied around their arm, and syringes in their hands. I was horrified to see Chad injecting himself while driving. I prayed he would crash the van. I could make a run for it then. It took a few moments for the drugs to kick in, and for each of the Vipers to drift into their own world. Chad pulled the van over to the side of the road so he could enjoy the full effect of what I assumed was heroin.
It seemed the perfect opportunity to escape. I observed them closely; they looked totally out of it. Each of them, heads laid back, eyes closed, resting. Things had quietened down, and I wondered if I should attempt something, or whether it would start them off. It only took a moment for me to decide. I made a grab for the door handle.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake pulled me back, and I landed hard on the floor. He sat on my stomach.
“Grab her arms,” he instructed Colin.
“Please don’t,” I implored. “I’m begging you, please don’t do this.”
“You’ll be begging soon – begging for more.”
They laughed.
“You know, you really don’t wanna fight me, Jade. Make it easier on yourself, huh.”
I struggled as they restrained me. “Just let me go. I won’t say anything. Let me go before you go too far!”
Jake stared at me profoundly. He seemed so frighteningly sane. I saw the hunger in his eyes as he attempted to undo the buttons on my blouse. When I came to grips with what was going to happen, I freaked out. My arms and legs kicked and thrashed as I struggled. I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow. The whole van filled with my voice. I was petrified and didn’t give a shit who heard me.
“I think we need to calm her down a little,” Chad suggested as he climbed into the back of the van.
His right hand held a syringe. His grin gave me more of a reason to fight. I struggled for all I was worth.
“Relax,” Chad told me.
There was no way I was going to let them drug me. No way in hell!
“Don’t do this. Please, I’ll do anything you say.”
I meant every word, I would have got down on my knees and barked like a dog, anything than have no control over myself.
“Hold her still,” Chad told the others.
I wasn’t going down without a fight, and so I used the last of my strength wrestling with them. I gave it all I had. I don’t know where I found the energy, but three Vipers weren’t enough to still me. I think it was the fear of being drugging giving me the edge. I wa
s more scared of that than of being raped. I told myself that if I made it through that night, I would take whatever life threw at me with a pinch of salt.
Jake tired of my reluctance and reached into the back pocket of his jeans; he pulled out a knife and held it dangerously close to my throat.
It was at that second it hit me. They were so high on drugs, they could kill me without thinking, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Paralysed by fear, they held me down. Chad pushed the needle into my arm. As the liquid enter my blood, I felt defeated and helpless. Once I started to relax, they let me go.
I couldn’t fight the drugs. I had no control of my body or thoughts. I remember parts of what happened and flashbacks of the nightmare. I saw coloured blobs and shapes, fields of blue and yellow. The colours were wonderful and bright. I felt relaxed, too relaxed. I think I experienced the perception of being out of my body. Whether it actually happened, I couldn’t say. I vaguely remember floating and seeing my body as each Viper raped me. The strange thing was that I didn’t feel a thing. I had no sensation of it happening. I saw everything but felt nothing. Was that really me lying there, or was I hallucinating? I recall hearing a loud whooshing sound, and then I was back in my body. I started coughing and then choking. I turned my head and vomited.
Colin moved off me, a look of disgust covered his face.
“How much did you give her?” he asked.
Still coughing, I found it difficult to breathe. My chest tightened as though someone was crushing me, except, there was no one sitting on my chest. I hyperventilated and then coughed up blood; I was having an attack of some sort. It scared the Vipers, and they opened the back doors and threw me out the van. I think they thought I was dying, I wished I were. I didn’t know at the time, but I was having a serious allergic reaction to the drug. My body was doing all it could to repair the damage. I thought it was over for me, that there was no way I’d see Marcus or the Tyrants again; no way of leaving the place alive. I’d never been so frightened in all my life.
In Times of Violence Page 10