“Fine. Whatever. Go over to the main room before I whoop your ass,” he said and now there was a laugh in his voice. My fear was funny to him. He was enjoying watching me cower like that. I wanted to burst into tears.
I moved away from him and nodded. I wanted nothing more right now than to be back home with Amanda in my arms. She was the only thing that could make me feel better about myself. I had managed to create this wonderful little girl.
I headed towards the main room as Carlos instructed me. My mind drifted to Dash, chained up in that stinky cold cellar. I felt stupid now, feeling sorry for myself—what was he going through? They must have beaten him really hard for the past two days. The way he wolfed down the food and water made me realize he’d been starving and thirsty all this while.
These people were monsters! No matter what Dash had done, he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Not even an animal deserved to be treated like that!
I entered the main room, with Dash still on my mind and I saw Caesar, sitting on the big black couch.
* * *
Caesar had a big grin on his face and I knew he had been drinking. When was he not drinking?
“There you are!” he exclaimed and patted the seat next to him on the couch. I gulped but I walked towards him. What other choice did I have? I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that eight years ago, I had fallen for this guy. Granted, I was just seventeen and I was attracted to his bad-boy macho appeal, but what else was it?
Not even for a day had he made me feel safe or loved or appreciated. How foolish was I?
I sat down beside him and he wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me closer to himself. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, it was beginning to make me sick.
“It’s nice having you around,” he hissed menacingly, while I tried not to gag or cry. Every time he was close to me, I was filled with fear. Caesar was unpredictable, dangerous and violent. I could never know for sure what he would do next. Without instigation, he could slap me for looking at him wrong. Nothing I did could ever be right.
While he held me close to himself, he placed a hand on my knee. It was covered in grime from the cellar floor when I was kneeling on it earlier. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice or ask me questions. Slowly, he was moving his hand up my knee and thigh.
I had to do everything in my power to not push him away. Any act of disobedience on my part would be met with violence. I had learnt that the hard way. And after seven years of this torture, I should have gotten used to him and his behavior but I hadn’t. I still lived in constant fear of him.
Every morning I woke up and wished he would die. A thought that scared me because I would never have wished harm on another human being.
Caesar was touching me now. I could sense what was on his mind. He was in the mood to fuck me and when he wanted it, there was nothing in the world that would change his mind.
My body froze as I waited for him to take the next step. To rip my clothes apart and take me right there on the couch. I could feel a cry rising up in my throat. How much more of this was I supposed to endure?
Could I run away somewhere with Amanda? But he would find me. Where could I go? I didn’t have any savings or support.
But before Caesar could do anything else, we were interrupted. Carlos had stepped into the room and suddenly I was afraid he was going to complain about me.
* * *
Carlos grinned when he came into the room. He knew what was about to happen here if he hadn’t walked in.
“What?” Caesar snapped at him and reluctantly took his hand away from my leg. I straightened myself up, pressing my legs together in the hopes that he would forget about it.
I was fearful again. If Carlos ratted on me; that I’d been feeding the prisoner, I had no clue how Caesar would react to that.
“Just sayin’, she saw him,” Carlos said, standing at the door with his feet parted and a gun jutting out of his belt. I was sitting up, with my back straight, beginning to perspire.
“Him? You mean our guest?” Caesar asked with a smirk now and Carlos smirked too. I could barely breathe, I was just sitting there on the couch, completely motionless.
“Yeah,” Carlos said and Caesar turned to me, taking in a deep breath. He reached for me again, this time grazing his thick rough thumb up and down my jawline. I didn’t look at him, I still didn’t move. Then he broke into a sudden laugh.
“We have nothing to worry about with this one,” he said and drew his hand away. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
I looked at him then, gulping.
“What guest?” I asked, in a low voice and that response seemed to please the two guys.
“See, that’s what I’m talking ‘bout. She knows what’s good for her and her kid, doesn’t she?” Caesar continued to speak, his eyes focused on me. I nodded more.
“Now get your ass out of here, go help Sal in the bar or something. Make yourself useful. We ain’t paying you for sitting there and looking pretty,” he growled and I jumped off the couch. Those were the sweetest words he could have said to me.
I ran out of the room, brushing past Carlos who I felt a little indebted to. Had he quickly forgotten that I fed Dash or did he not care? Whichever it was, I was glad he hadn’t mentioned it to Caesar.
Out in the hallway, I stood for a while, trying to catch my breath. It felt like I’d been running a marathon. I was panting and sweating and dying of thirst.
Just spending a few minutes with Dash made me feel this scared for my safety and Amanda’s. I knew I could never repeat it again. I would have to avoid going into the cellar as much as possible.
Then I remembered his face. He had a big handsome smile, the kind I could fall for. The kind of smile that would be a mistake to fall for. He was a prisoner here. They could kill him in a few days. And then what?
My life would have to go on, no day different than the previous one.
I tried to stand still for a few moments and just breathe, but I was shaking all over. The thought of anything happening to Dash had scared me more than a punishment from Caesar.
9
Dash
Dash
In that room, I had no concept of time, so once Harley was gone I had no clue how long she had been gone for. But I was thinking about her. Constantly. Her face and her low voice were the only things in my mind.
She had a sweet, delicate heart shaped face, and a petite and tender body. I’d noticed everything about her—her curves, her eyes, her pink mouth and how long and shapely her legs were.
I didn’t know what was happening to me. Why I was this attracted to her. What made her so different from every other woman I got to fuck? It was all about wanting her, wasn’t it? I was a man with needs and Harley was beautiful.
But there was more to it than that. It wasn’t just her body that I was thinking about.
I was thinking about the fear in her eyes, how she could barely look at me because she was so afraid. How the color drained from her cheeks when that guy opened the door. It reminded me of something…
I was six when I started noticing things around my house. I would hide under my bed while my father beat up my mother every night. I’d wake up and see her with bruises on her face and all over her body. I noticed the way she flinched every time he entered the room, and how she kept her voice down when she was spoken to. I loved her, but I could do nothing for her.
I grew up knowing that my mother was unhappy, that if she could, she would be anywhere else in the world but here, with us. With pop.
I couldn’t do anything for her, not until I was fifteen and I was big enough by then to finally stand up to him.
He didn’t see it coming when I sent him flying across the room one night when he raised a hand at her. He didn’t know what I was capable of, but I showed him. I kicked him out, made sure he understood that if he ever stepped foot in the house again; I would choke him to death the way he had tried to choke her so many times.
He was go
ne from our lives and I joined a street gang. I never saw my mother cry again. She even smiled and went out more often to meet her friends. Since I was born, I had never seen her that happy before.
So, I had witnessed abuse. I knew how to recognize it, and even though Harley had barely said a few words to me, I could sense she was being abused.
That was what I recognized in her and I’d be damned if I was going to let that keep happening to a beautiful woman like her.
To any woman. But least of all to Harley.
* * *
Other than her name, I knew nothing else about her. Was she one of their old ladies? Maybe Caesar’s? There was no way to know now, unless she told me or I saw her with someone. Would I even see her again?
It was possible that feeding me when she wasn’t supposed to, had gotten her into trouble and she might never come back to this room again.
Did they have something on her? What was making her stay here with them? What were they threatening her with?
It had to be something. That fear in her eyes was real. She wasn’t putting on a show for me. She was frightfully scared of them and the more I thought about it now, the more convinced I was that she needed to get out of here. But how?
I had been so close to giving up. I didn’t want the rest of my club to come and rescue me because I didn’t want them to put themselves in danger. I didn’t want them making any deal with the Hell’s Drifters or Dark Legion. Death would have been sweeter than that.
But now that I’d met Harley, things were beginning to change for me. I wanted to get out, if only to save her. She was trapped here with them and I wanted to protect her. The only way I could, would be by getting out of here and taking her with me.
I needed to get her to safety, even though she didn’t know yet that was what I wanted. I didn’t want anything in return from her. I just wanted to do what was right.
I growled and pulled at the handcuffs again. It barely made a difference. I slumped back down on the ground, feeling defeated. How long were they going to keep me here before it was time for them to eliminate the problem. By which it meant; they were going to kill me.
I knew they had no plans of returning me safely to the Marked Skulls.
But if they killed me, what would happen to Harley? She was going to be stuck here with them, leading a life of abuse. I didn’t know her but that was not the life I wanted for her.
I had decided already—I was getting out of here and I was taking her with me.
I pulled at the handcuffs again. Nothing.
A woman like her deserved to be worshipped. Deserved to be cherished and looked after.
I didn’t make the mistake of assuming I could do that for her. I didn’t deserve her either, but there was some man out there who did. And it was my duty to rescue her from this life and make it better.
I pulled at the cuffs again and this time, a bolt on the wall that was holding the pipe in place pulled out. I blinked, staring at it in disbelief. I wasn’t expecting that to happen.
But it did.
Saving Harley had given me the strength I needed to get out of this shithole.
10
Harley
Harley
The next morning when I arrived at the clubhouse after dropping Amanda off at the daycare, Caesar and some of the guys were there already. It seemed like they hadn’t left this place at all.
I walked in and saw all the bottles everywhere, cigarette butts strewn all over the floor. Some of them were passed out on tables, while Caesar and some of the others were sitting around, still drinking.
They were drunk. Caesar’s eyes were bloodshot red and scary.
But this morning I had woken up with a conviction. While Amanda slept, I had spent the whole of last night thinking about Dash. The least these people could do for him was give him three meals a day and enough water to drink. It was basic human decency.
I didn’t want to think about what would happen to him in a few days.
I went to the backroom and picked up a broom and the other pointless cleaning material.
When I walked back into the bar, most of the other guys had passed out. Only Caesar seemed to be awake, lighting himself his hundredth cigarette. He blew a cloud of smoke in my direction when I stepped up close to him.
“I have a suggestion to make,” I said, looking him squarely in the eye. Caesar drew in a mouthful of smoke and narrowed his eyes at me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had spoken this way to him.
It had taken him by surprise too. He was drunk and looked beat.
“What the fuck you talkin’ about?” he asked, tapping ash on the floor that I would have to clean up.
“That guy in the cellar. Your guest…” I started to say and he jumped out of his chair and loomed threateningly over me. I wasn’t supposed to raise the subject of the guest. Who was I to even mention him aloud?
“What did you just say, bitch?” he growled, widening his eyes angrily at me.
“I just had a suggestion regarding him, the prisoner,” I said, trying to hold myself together, and not let my voice waver. I was sick of appearing weak.
“You have a suggestion? Since when do you get to say anything?” he continued to growl.
“He needs to eat. Three meals a day, and water,” I added.
The slap came out of nowhere, Caesar’s hand struck across my left cheek and I gasped. A few of the guys around us stirred and woke up from the cracking sound, and then went back to sleep again.
“How the fuck do you think you can talk to me like that? You forget about your kid or something?” he raged.
I tried not to rub the redness on my cheek, where the skin was still stinging. I fought the tears welling up in my eyes and looked down at my feet.
“You want to keep him alive? You will have to feed him. He’s a big man. He needs more than a small sandwich a day,” I continued. I wasn’t about to give up this easily. Caesar had slapped me enough times already for it to mean anything to me. I was used to them. That was my life.
After he was done slapping me, Caesar glared at me, expecting me to back down. But I didn’t. I couldn’t glare back at him, but I didn’t walk away either.
“Three square meals a day?” he asked and I finally met his eyes again.
“I’m not sure who he is, but he seems important to you and the club. Looks like you want to keep him alive,” I said meekly.
I watched as Caesar clenched his jaws.
“Fine. Whatever. Fuck off. Tell Carlos I’ve given you my orders,” he growled and slumped exhaustedly into a chair beside him.
I dropped my cleaning things and ran to the kitchen at the back. There wasn’t much in terms of a deserving breakfast, but there was milk in the fridge and enough ingredients to make him another peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I made two of them, poured milk in a glass and took some water with me on a tray and headed to the cellar. Carlos was barely awake when I got there. I told him what Caesar had said and he believed me. He knew I wouldn’t have the guts to make up something like that. Besides, what vested interest could I have in this prisoner?
He opened the door for me and I stepped in.
Even though it was early morning and the sun was shining brightly outside, in here it looked dark and depressing. Dash was sitting on the ground, his hands attached to the pipe. He blinked his eyes open when he saw me walking in.
I saw how his eyes brightened up. Was he as excited to see me as I was to see him?
“You’re like an angel from Heaven,” he commented and I blushed. Why was it that all he had to do was look at me and it made me blush?
I set the tray of food down on the floor beside him.
“I bet you’re hungry,” I said and he straightened himself up.
“Not hungry anymore, now that you’re here,” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was just teasing me or this was how he spoke to all women he met.
I started feeding him the sandwich and once again he said how this was the be
st peanut butter sandwich he’d ever tried. I rolled my eyes at that and he smirked.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I bet that’s what you say to all the girls?”
“Yeah, all the girls who bring me food in a dungeon,” he added and we couldn’t help it; we smiled at each other.
Dash continued to eat and we talked little. I gave him the milk and the water, and by the time he was done eating—he finally looked satisfied.
I didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary. I didn’t want to do something that would upset Caesar or Carlos that would stop me from coming here and feeding him.
I was quickly getting up to go and Dash leaned towards me.
“What’s that? On your face?” he asked.
For a moment I was confused and then I realized what he was talking about.
“Did someone hit you?” he asked and I stood up, picking up the tray off the floor.
“Harley?” he asked, his voice was stern. He sounded upset. I didn’t realize my cheek was still red from the slap.
“I should go. I’ll try and bring you some lunch later,” I told him. Dash said nothing more and I walked back to the door. I knocked twice and Carlos opened it for me.
“Hope you’re not wasting the good stuff on him,” he said, peering into the room behind me.
“What good stuff?” I mumbled to myself as I walked away.
* * *
I returned in the afternoon with a bigger sandwich, this time made of shredded chicken and mayo. I even had some fries on the side which I’d specially prepared for him, most of which the other guys had eaten already. I didn’t take my lunch today as I usually did and saved as much food as I could for Dash.
Marked Skulls MC Series: Books 1-5 Page 62