by Ivy Fox
I lean my head on the headrest and close my lids shut. Uri was right. We have been out on the road a lot this past year. That type of hustle takes a lot out of a man. All of us need some time off to recharge, so this forced sabbatical may be a blessing. There’s not much trouble a man can get himself into in Warren, and everyone knows not to mess with any one of the Archangels. We make the law in this town, not the politicians running for office. Not the cops patrolling the streets, but our club. Anyone has a problem, they come to us. Anyone needs dealing with, they call us. But like I said, Warren is probably one of the most peaceful towns in the whole state, and again, that’s thanks to us. So if Uri wants to give us a fucking vacation, I’m all for it. I’m still dreaming up ways of how I will take advantage of my free time, when I hear Cam whine in the back.
“We could have stayed at the clubhouse a little longer, you know? We’ve been out on the road for so long, a little female companionship wouldn’t have hurt,” Cam grumbles, placing his elbows on the front seats.
“Club skanks don’t do it for Gabe. You know that, Cam. You could have stayed, though, if you wanted to get your dick wet so badly,” I goad my friend.
“And miss my ride? Nah, a couple more days of forced celibacy won’t kill me. Having to sleep on one of those STD beds might have, though. Last time I slept at the clubhouse in the brothers’ quarters, my cock was itching for days. I only slept on the damn mattress! Imagine if I was actually using my cock? Not going through that hell again. No pussy is worth it!”
I can’t help but laugh, and I almost see a small tug of a smile on Gabe’s lips as well.
“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait until we go back and get our bikes to get your fill. Gabe and I will just have to entertain you till then,” I smirk.
“Yeah, like I’m not sick of your ugly faces already.” Cam laughs. “Maybe Uri will do us a solid and get our bikes done by tomorrow.”
“Hope so. I hate this thing,” Gabriel murmurs, punching the roof of the truck.
“We’re almost home, Gabe. Just be thankful this piece of junk still rides. Otherwise, we had to either ride bitch on some brothers’ bikes home or walk the whole way there.”
“Walking isn’t so bad,” he counters.
“Neither is this truck,” Cam adds, and I nod in agreement, although I don’t like being confined to any box either.
“It’s a damn coffin. Feels like I’m suffocating,” Gabriel continues giving the perfect explanation of my feelings toward the vehicle in question.
“Still, you’re the one driving,” Cam mocks, his eyes twinkling. He loves getting a rise from our silent friend, especially if he’s offering an inside look into his head without any prompting on our part.
“Want to make sure we get home fast,” Gabe answers, his grip on the steering wheel holding so tight, his knuckles start to whiten.
“I got that,” Cam replies and doesn’t add anything else, sensing our friend is already too pent-up to provoke further.
“Well, what the fuck?” I hear Gabriel utter, his openly hostile attitude taking me aback.
“Chill, brother. Cam didn’t mean any harm,” I tell him, placing my hand on his sturdy shoulder.
“Michael, I think Gabe is more concerned about the dead body in our front yard right now?” Cam explains, his eyes also on the yard. I turn my head right before Gabriel slams the brakes, but I see exactly what my brothers are gawking at.
Well, what the fuck is right!
We’re all stepping out of the truck and walking to the frozen, barely-clothed corpse in front of our house. I can’t see her face since it’s covered with her chocolate-brown hair, but I can see her bloody hands and naked legs and feet, all of which are badly scarred and scratched. She’s wearing a light undergarment that barely reaches her thighs. Every inch of her is bruised and turning shades of blue I’ve only seen in boxers after a good ten rounds. This woman was put through the wringer before she met her resting place, and it doesn’t sit well with me that it’s just a few feet away from where we live.
“You think it’s some crew wanting to send a message? Maybe even try to frame us or something?” Cam voices out, kneeling down at the woman before us, but never once attempting to touch her.
“Like what?” I ask, still trying to play out every scenario in my head of what this could be.
“Shit, I don’t know. There are plenty of clubs out there who would love to move into our turf. Cops find a half-naked beaten up girl on our property, that shit’s sure going to raise the attention to the pigs around here. Bring heat on us when we don’t want or need it.”
“You have an active imagination,” I reply dryly. The local cops are the least of my worries, but Feds are a different monster altogether. Those fuckers are the ones that could be cause for concern. Dead girls showing up out of nowhere usually grab their attention.
“Yeah, like this shit happens all the time, us driving home and finding a dead girl on our front porch,” Cam exhales, driving his hand through his honey-glazed hair.
“Fuck this conversation,” Gabriel says as he picks up the girl.
“What the fuck are you doing, Gabe? Now you got your fingerprints all over the stiff!” Cam yells out.
“She’s alive,” he grunts, holding the girl close to his chest.
“What? You sure?” I ask. By the coloring of her skin, I would have sworn she had been dead for hours, if not days. But my brother nods, and that’s all the assurance I need to know that this woman hasn’t been kissed entirely by The Dark Angel yet.
“Alright, then. Take her inside. It’s fucking freezing, and she’s suffered enough. Even if this is a frame-up job, she shouldn’t have to suffer more for it,” I order.
“She might be in on it. She might wake up and point at us as her attackers,” Cam states, but he’s already following the big guy carrying the mysterious cargo up our porch steps.
“Yeah, she might. Or she might just be a scared girl who got jumped and attacked, and found herself here somehow. We got to do something, and I will not stand here in the cold night air debating what that is. We’re getting her inside, calling Prez, and getting him to send the doc. You have any better ideas?”
Cam goes quiet with my stern rebuke but shakes his head.
“Then open the fucking door and get on the phone.”
Cam’s concerns are warranted, but right now a life is hanging by a thread. I will not let this woman die because of the threat she may or may not represent to my club.
Not until I know for sure anyway.
Then we’ll see if she needs to have a date with the Dark One. If that’s the case, I’ll make the introduction myself.
Chapter 2
?
The darkness still clouds my senses, but yet I fight to wake up.
I feel people surrounding me.
Strangers calling out for some sort of acknowledgment that I’m okay.
I am not okay.
I am the furthest thing from being okay.
I’m being swallowed whole into a pit of fire and hell, and there is nothing to grab onto. Nothing to carry me from this place of purgatory to my salvation.
All I feel is pain.
Excruciating pain.
I burn.
I burn, and I thirst.
What happened to me?
Where am I?
Why have I become this pile of broken bone and ash?
Murmurs and whispers mimic through the black veil, and I can’t fix on a single word.
As hard as I try to stay focused, it’s too strenuous a task to complete.
And then I feel it.
Smooth fingers caress my heated skin, and my instinct is instant. I thrash and fight it away. I don’t want anything or anyone touching me. Villainous strokes have already harmed my body and soul, and in my weakened state, they might do enough harm to keep me in this hell forever. Those first gentle touches are now replaced with forceful ones, just as I initially feared. But what makes my nightmare increase in
size is that they are now not the only ones. More hands are on me. Binding my wrists. My ankles. My knees. Putting enough pressure on my stomach to prevent me from moving an inch.
And then a pinch.
A simple prick.
Small and deadly.
Poisonous.
And liberating.
Replacing my dark night with a beam of blessed warm light, which I follow without a second thought.
The mangled body, tied down, is left behind, along with my willingness to care what will be made of it.
Chapter 3
Cam
“You boys can leave the room now. The sedative is doing its job, and I highly doubt she’ll wake up again,” Aurora says, already too concentrated on the broken and bruised woman lying still on the bed.
“Got it, Doc. We’ll be outside,” I reply, eager to leave her to her work.
“Can you fix her?” Gabe asks from the other side of the room.
He hasn’t moved a muscle since the girl stopped thrashing wildly on the bed. Now that was some scary exorcist shit. Girl seemed almost possessed, and even though Doc can handle her stuff, it took her and the three of us to hold the girl still. She definitely has some fight to her. All bruised up and bloody, but still hell-bent on taking down anyone who touches her.
I’m positive that everyone in this room has come to their own conclusions about what could have possibly happened to this poor soul. Her wings were clipped by some kind of evil this night, scissored into tiny shards of glass, sure to cut you open if you try to get too close to the mutilated remains. Even if this girl was sent here to do damage to our club in some way, she still suffered something gruesome. No woman should be marked up like this. By the look in Gabe’s eyes, this unexpected visit is gnawing at his insides, bringing back old wounds that have yet to fully heal.
“I’m going to try. You boys crowding me won’t get the job done any quicker, though,” Doc states, not looking at the mountain of a man who refuses to move away.
“Yes ma’am,” I salute teasingly, even though right now no one’s in the mood for my light banter.
Since Michael is already in the kitchen with Uri, probably trying to make sense of all of this, I might as well join them in there. I nudge my head over to big Gabe so he can follow me out, but the stubborn ass remains still, standing his ground: jaw locked, arms crossed over his massive chest, brooding more than usual, making it clear he’s not going anywhere.
“I’m staying,” is all he says. I shrug my shoulders, knowing full well that once he sets his mind on something, not even the Reaper himself could budge him to do the contrary. Doc doesn’t seem to mind his presence since she’s already attending to the girl’s wounds on her head, so I leave them both to it.
As suspected, when I get to the kitchen, Uri is nursing his whiskey and Michael his beer, both looking plagued with concern at tonight’s surprising events.
“My sister kick you out?” Uri asks when he sees me opening the refrigerator door, getting a cold one for myself. I pull out the chair next to him and get comfortable on the old wooden seat.
“Doc needed room to work,” is my reply as I take a pull of the cold beer.
“Yeah? Big guy takes up more room than you do, and he got to stay,” Uri goads, always busting my balls. My Prez loves me, I know, but the asshole loves giving me shit whenever he can. Says it keeps me honest, whatever that means.
“Yeah, but Gabriel doesn’t overpower the room like Cam here does,” Michael adds with a smirk on his face.
“Aurora likes it quiet. Needs to concentrate. Gabe can help her better than I can,” I tell them, shrugging off their brotherly teasing. Tonight’s events have hijacked my usual witty comebacks. Seeing a half-dead girl on your lawn will dampen any mood.
“Any clue as to who the girl is yet?” I ask, looking at Uri for answers.
“No. Not local, that much I know. Even though her face was pretty run-through, I would have recognized her if she was.”
“You talk to Joe?” I ask.
“And why would he talk to Joe?” Michael quickly replies. I shrug again. If neither of them wants him involved, I say we’re better for it. The Archangels have a better chance at getting to the root of whatever this clusterfuck is than Joe ever could anyway.
“I’m leaving my brother out of this one. Already have my sister tending to this mess, don’t need any more family involved,” Uri explains, looking over at his nephew. Yeah, I guess he’s right. Too many family members involved as it is.
“So what do we do?”
“You don’t do shit,” Uri points the finger at me. “I need all of you to lie low for a while. I have no idea if this is a setup to the club, or to you three personally. Until I get some fucking intel, I want all of you three out of sight.” Michael just nods in agreement, but I do not like where this is heading.
“I know we just got back and all, but maybe if we bolted, instead of staying here like sitting ducks waiting to see what else is going to blow in our faces, it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world,” I counter, giving him my two cents.
“I already told Michael this evening, no more runs for you three for a while,” Uri exhales, taking another sip of the bitter brown liquid in his glass.
I turn my head to Michael, and he continues stoic as usual, stroking his blond beard like the thing is a favorite pet or something. This night just seems to be getting shittier and shittier. First I don’t get laid, and God help me, I really needed it to blow off some steam after being on the road for the past two months. Then we find an almost-dead girl on the front yard, and now Uri is telling me that I’m taking a forced leave from running jobs. Well, fuck me sideways, but this is not the welcome home party I was expecting. I want to argue until I’m blue in the face, but Michael is giving me that ‘shut your trap if you know what’s good for you’ look, so I bite my tongue instead, cracking my knuckles under the table. I’m trying to keep my cool in check, when I feel the shadowy figure of my silent friend behind me.
“All good in there?” Uri asks him.
“Aurora is almost finished,” he replies and leans against the counter, waiting for the doc to come out. When she finally does, Uri is up from his seat and offers it to her instead. He grabs a clean glass from the cabinet and pours his sister a stiff drink of her own. Aurora knocks it back in one go. Doc is one hell of a woman, but I guess she had to be, growing up as one of the Archangels’ legacies.
“How is she?” Michael asks his aunt, concern slipping out of him. Aurora pulls a black hairband from her tattooed wrist and ties her black raven hair back in a ponytail. She pours herself another drink and kicks that back, too, before giving her nephew an answer.
“Aside from the girl being beaten within an inch of her life, I’d say she’s doing quite well. Most of the bruises and cuts will heal on their own, but what I’m worried about most are the ribs that I’m sure the fuckers broke. The fever she’s got going isn’t good, either.” Aurora exhales, leaning back in her chair, looking exhausted.
“Any clue who she is or who did this to her?” she asks her brother.
“Not yet,” Uri answers.
“Well, when you do, bring me with, yeah? I have a baseball bat with the fucker’s name on it,” Aurora howls, taking another drink.
“Girl might be in on it, too. Won’t know for sure until I get some Angels to do some digging,” Uri informs her, and Aurora just shakes her head.
“No fucking way is that girl involved. Whoever hurt her did so repeatedly, and prior to tonight. I did a thorough check on her, and I can tell you right now that the woman in there is no stranger to a beating. She’s been someone’s punching bag for a while, by the old bruises I found.”
“Shit,” I utter, and quickly look up at Gabe to see how he’s handling Aurora’s speculations. Brother is ice cold on the outside, but I see a fire burning through his caramel eyes. Michael’s stare is fixed on the bottle in his hand, but his fingers are choking the damn thing, too. Yeah, no Angel takes too
kindly to a man beating up a woman, especially since Gabe started wearing a cut.
“I doubt this is club-related, Uri. I think this is just a bad case of wrong place, wrong time—at least from the boys’ perspective. For that girl in there, she landed herself exactly where she was meant to,” Doc concludes. “Finding refuge with us might get her the justice she deserves.”
“Easy there. We still don’t know who she is or what this is. Right now, all we got is speculation,” Uri responds to his sister’s thirst for vengeance. “She’s a stranger to us, so don’t you get ideas of bashing heads in just yet.”
Aurora huffs out and starts to get up from her seat. “I got rounds in the morning, so I won’t be able to stay the whole night. But if I could take her to the hospital like I told you when I got here, I’d be able to monitor her better from there,” she says.
“Told you, that’s not going to happen. Girl stays here until we know for sure.”
“I already told you—she’s the victim!” Aurora yells out.
“You told me she’s been battered before. Who’s to say she hasn’t been tortured for a reason? That she won’t wake up and point the finger at the club as her wrongdoers because that’s what her attackers told her she needed to do to live? Survival is a mighty damn good motivator for lying, Aurora. I won’t risk my club on a girl I don’t know.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Aurora spits out, fuming at her brother’s pragmatic and detached decision.
“How do you know? Did she talk to you?”
“No. She’s still too out of it,” she replies, frustrated.
“Well, then you don’t know for sure what she would or would not do. I call the shots here, Aurora. And if I say the girl stays here, then the girl stays here.”
Aurora pulls her middle finger to her lips and blows a kiss her big brother’s way, before turning her back to the four of us.
“Wait, Doc,” I hear Gabe mumble. Of course, for him she stops.
“She hurt anywhere else? I mean…” he starts, and only now do I get what is rummaging through his nightmare-filled mind.