Spiteful Punks: dolls and douchebags part one

by Madeline Fay

  “We look after our own, maybe you can get to know your stepbrother and see the way we run the business. It would be just… delightful to have you in the fold. We’re family after all.” Franco shares a long look with Logan, communicating about something that I don’t like.

  Before I can ask what that business is, he clears his throat and places his napkin on the table to stand. Bending down, he kisses Diana on her cheek when she leans his way before rounding the table to stand behind my chair. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, I’m almost afraid to move. Diana doesn’t look at me, she stares straight ahead drinking her wine. Franco places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing hard enough that I know the tender spot will be red, and I try to hide my wince at the simple touch. Darkness clouds at the edges of my vision, my breathing picks up and I know I’m about to have a panic attack. His voice, the only thing keeping the memories at bay, the threat clear as he speaks.

  “If you try to fuck me over, I’ll kill you,” he whispers into my ear before straightening, and with one more squeeze that makes me wince, he lets go to address Logan and Tey. “Make sure she sees the way we run things around here boys and that she’s... comfortable.”

  He leaves the room after that, the sound of clinking utensils making me dizzy. What the hell was that about? It’s decided. I’m leaving tonight. I don’t have a choice. It’s be eaten alive in this cold fucking world or survive by dragging yourself out of your grave with teeth and nails.

  I’m about to spiral into a memory that never leaves me and takes days to mentally escape. I’ve been threatened half my life by the Jokers and now Franco. It never ends. I need air... to get away without raising suspicion. I flex my fingers, hoping Tey will let my hand go, but he just continues eating without noticing. I’ll get him to notice and I don’t care if Logan sees me threatening his friend with a steak knife. He just raises a dark eyebrow and waits to see what I’ll do. Quickly, before I talk myself out of the consequences and the punishment that will surely follow, the knife is off the table and swiping across Tey’s hand, barely missing the veins that bulge along his hand and up his arm.

  His quiet hiss of pain makes me freeze, it’s like my joints have locked in place and I’m just asking to get smacked around. The body is a fickle thing, your brain tells you one thing but the body doesn’t always obey. At least he releases my hand. I dare to flicker my gaze up, preparing myself for the first hit. It’s one you never forget. Only he’s staring at the trail of blood pooling on top of his hand, watching it slide down his wrist. I expected a lot of things but the wide grin and pearly white teeth that make an appearance wasn’t what I thought would happen.

  “Tey, clear up your mess. Wouldn’t want to get the white tablecloth dirty,” Logan casually orders from his slouched position in his chair, his gaze watching my pulse pound like crazy in my neck, and sliding his index finger back and forth over his plump sinful lips.

  A chair screeches back from the table, heels clicking fast over the hardwood floors before the noise disappears. It could have been Diana but I wouldn’t know because I’m busy staring into icy blue eyes framed by thick lashes, the color deepening a darker blue as Tey holds up his wrist to his mouth and slides out his surprisingly long tongue to lick up the trail of blood. I should be disgusted by his actions but the way he’s staring at me like he wants to eat me alive, makes my stomach tighten with deep need and has me wishing he would make me bleed for him.

  It’s fucked up, I almost crave it.

  I jump out of my chair so fast it goes crashing to the ground, but I hardly notice as my legs finally seem to be working, no longer frozen on the spot with fear, but with a desperation that makes me want to do very bad things.

  “Aw, but it was just getting good. Come back, honey!” Tey yells, laughter following me out the archway.

  “Sweet dreams, Tillie,” Logan says softly in that deep raspy voice of his, but it sounds like a threat.

  Making it to my room, I slam the door behind me and flick the lock into place before collapsing to the floor; hugging my stomach and breathing deeply through my mouth so I don’t pass out. I need to plan how to leave without being noticed. I’m left with no other choice, I have to leave tonight before these guys decide to kill me just for fun. I’m done being threatened. Hurt. Used. There has to be somewhere out there for me to feel like my life isn’t in danger.

  Crawling across the room, I grab my duffle bag from the closet and get to my feet to start throwing random clothing into it. It’s only eight o’clock at night and I don’t want to randomly make a break for the door now, I’ll have to wait until everyone is asleep. Might as well try to get some shut-eye, who knows when I’ll be able to rest once I’m on my own. Having to constantly look over my shoulder does get old but if it keeps me alive, I’ll forever have a crick in my neck.

  Placing my duffle bag by my feet, my body starts to feel like lead and my eyes become heavy, I collapse into the plush comforter that feels like fluffy clouds. My mind races with the possibles, memories trying to break to the surface, beating against me. Before I know it, I’m already drifting away, hopefully, into a place where no one can reach me.

  Tillie

  “Run, Tillie. Keep running and don’t look back or he’ll catch up to you.” Doris pushes against my shoulders and keeps pushing until I stumble back a step under the weight she uses against me. “You're going to die here. He’s going to kill you, but not before he uses you first.”

  Frantically, I turn on my hands and knees with gravel digging into my skin, scrambling to run away before hopping to my feet. I glance over my shoulder to tell her to run with me but she’s gone. Looking forward, my shoes skid across the gravel and I fall on my butt with a thud as fear eats my insides alive.

  Cruz stands there with his belt unbuckled and that curved hunting knife in his hand with blood smeared on the tip. I look down in horror at my legs which are covered with open wounds, raised scars of his name carved into my skin over and over again.

  “I’ll take and take until you beg me for death. Don’t you know that dirty whores like yourself don’t get to go to heaven? But don’t worry, I’ll make sure that by the time I’m done with you, I’ll be the God that you pray to.” He reaches down for me, tearing at my clothes as I scream and scream for him to stop.

  An ear piercing scream wakes me up, I’m disoriented from the nightmare but quickly collide with reality as I realize multiple hands are ripping off my clothes. I flail around, kicking and screaming for them to get off me as a knife slices through my pants and shirt, leaving me in my underwear and bra. It’s dark in my room but there’s enough light from the moon through my curtains to see four tall shadows towering over me, hidden from my eyes but I can see the outline of white on certain parts of their faces. The design of skeleton makeup on each face almost makes me piss my panties. My brain can’t catch up fast enough with what is going on around me.

  “Get the hell off of me! I’m not going back, you can’t make me!” I yell at the skeleton faces surrounding me, tears running down my cheeks.

  I’m flipped onto my stomach, and my hands and feet are quickly tied with rope hogtie style. I end up flopping around on the bed trying to get away before a bag is shoved over my head, the material sucking into my mouth with every panicked breath. I’m tossed over a broad shoulder, jostled around, and not one of them says a thing as I call them every curse word in the dictionary. I hear car doors open and suddenly I’m being thrown into the middle seat. From the size of them, I know my chance to run is long gone… the Jokers have found me in no time at all. Two bodies squeeze in on either side of me, picking me up to place my head on one lap and legs on the other. The car starts, backing away from any freedom I thought I had and racing down the street, no doubt heading towards the compound.

  It’s so quiet, I can only hear my deep breathing and the vibration of the car under my stomach. With my dream still on the edge of my mind and now going back to that death trap, all the memories I try to shove down come back to
haunt me like an old friend.

  The night I was raped on that cold dirty cement floor, the carving of the big letters of Cruz’s initials on my back, and the years by of being groped, violated, and never knowing when my time was coming to an end. The tears don’t come anymore, my breathing picks up so much that it rattles my body as I lay as still as a statue. A hand smooths down my spine so lightly, the rough pad of their fingertips stop at the dimples of my back before sliding back up, the small nicks on his hand familiar of gun use. My pulse jumps, my nipples hardening into points through my bra and I curse my body at the pleasurable touch. I’d rather they make it hurt, I don’t want to feel anything.

  “I’ll kill myself before you get that part of me ever again,” I whisper the promise softly and let my body go lax under the continuing touch, deciding to save my strength for when I get out of this vehicle.

  I’ll go down fighting.

  Time passes in a blur, my thoughts dark and dreadful. I can feel the driver cutting through lanes quickly, the smooth road has to be a highway with how easy the car moves. Lights flash through the hood, the burlap revealing nothing. Finally, we start to slow, making me wonder if they’re just going to kill me here and now instead of delivering me to Cruz. Dumping my body over a bridge or in the ocean where I’ll never be found. The driver slams on the brakes causing the car to stop abruptly. Someone throws the doors open, and a cool breeze makes my sweat slicked body shiver. Hands grab my legs to drag me over the seats before flinging me to the ground, the rough asphalt scraping my side. The burlap is tugged off my head and the sudden brightness of the parking lot lights I’m lying under blinds me.

  My head swivels left and right, taking in the rows of Ferraris in different colors, realizing I’m in a car dealership parking lot. The ropes digging into my wrists and ankles are cut away and before I can stand, a car engine purrs loudly to life behind me. Spinning around, I see two sets of matching grins behind skeleton makeup in the BMW i8 leaning out the passenger side of the car. Four familiar eyes look at my shivering, practically naked body huddled under the parking lot light.

  “Sweet little bitch, you have... say about two minutes before the cops show up,” Dalton says in a gruff voice, looking up and down my body with a wink.

  Nicky sits in the front passenger seat and pulls a gun out, aiming right at me. I squeeze my eyes and pray it ends quickly. I thought I’d see a Joker on the other end of the gun but I guess fate has a twisted sense of humor. Five shots ring out rapidly, the sound of them hitting metal before I realize that the pain never comes. Peeking my eyes open, I see Nicky rolling his eyes and he stares straight ahead as if I’m not even here while gesturing to Logan to get going.

  “Baby, I love how those booty shorts hug that ass. Can’t wait to see it bouncing on my dick.” Tey cocks his head to the side. “Can you hear that? Dalton, what’s that sound like man?” He chuckles darkly, playing with his lip ring as he stares at the tattoo on my hip.

  “Sounds like the cops. Better hurry!” Dalton snickers, snapping his teeth at me.

  The skeleton makeup design really gives them the image of death, the hollowed cheekbones, the way it makes their gazes stand out against the black smudging around the eyelids.

  “We shall see who makes it back home first,” Logan taunts from the driver's seat, leaning around Nicky with a smug grin.

  He punches the gas without waiting for an answer from me, the tires leave skid marks on the pavement and it’s suddenly just me stranded in the lot. When I turn around, it’s to see three Ferraris dented in bullet holes and broken windows.

  Those motherfuckers left me for bait. I can’t have the cops catch me, I’ll go to jail and Payne will find me in no time. He has eyes and ears everywhere, the system doesn’t stop him. The sound of sirens gets louder and I say fuck it. My chest heaves as I glance around frantically until I spot a black Ferrari F8 Spider inside the dealership building and run barefoot across the parking lot. It’s not like I have a crowbar or my knife to mess with the wires to start a car. With no other choice, I grab the largest rock of their display outside the windows, grunting under the weight, and toss it at the glass window. It shatters into tiny pieces and a loud blaring alarm starts up the moment the rock makes contact with the glass. If the cops weren’t coming before, they are now. I grind my teeth as I step onto the shards, blocking out the pain and the bloody footprints I’m leaving behind. My running limp is pathetic as I hurry over to the flashy sports car. The driver’s door opens easily because of course, they don’t lock them up inside. Rolling my eyes, I quickly jog over to the receptionist’s area and see the keys I’m looking for on a hook under the desk. Do they think because it’s a high brand of a vehicle that no one would dare break in? Guess so.

  I climb onto the driver’s seat, I take a moment to admire the sleek leather material under my panty-clad ass, the smooth wheel my hands slide over. Key in the ignition, it roars to life like a beast and I’m spinning the car in seconds in a one eighty with burning rubber and smoke. Deciding not to pull a Dukes of Hazard because I do have some class, I burst through the already shattered glass floor to ceiling window. The car jumps over a small curb, a sound like crushed metal reaches my ears and it causes me to grimace in pain for the Ferrari.

  Just as I’m racing out of the lot, the flashing blue and red lights peel around the corner, picking up speed to chase after me. Throwing the clutch down and stomping my bloody foot on the gas, my teeth grind at the pain but it’s forgotten as I’m pushed into the seat and the car shoots forward. The way this car moves between the few vehicles on the back roads is a dream. It’s like sailing over water, just above the surface. The siren of the two cop cars behind me get louder, gaining up on my rear, closer and closer. I switch over into oncoming traffic, barely missing plowing into a truck, and sideswiping a few cars that are parallel parked on the road with sparks flying.

  “Shit. Come on, come on!” I grunt out, shifting gears again to pick up speed once I’m back on the right side of the road.

  Los Angeles is like one big maze, I hardly know the way back to Logan’s but luckily there are freaking signs everywhere that lead me right to Beverly Hills. It’s probably for the best if I stay off the highway, considering it’s a one way and I’ll eventually get caught. A carefree laugh bursts out of my mouth when I glance in the rearview mirror and see the cops fading in the distance. The Ferrari is too fast for them to catch up and for some reason, I’m laughing so hard that tears form in my eyes. One second I’m whooping and cheering at the risk, the way I outran the cops, and then the next second I’m a woman possessed. I’m angry… no, I’m livid.

  How dare they? To so carelessly leave me out there in my underwear and to take the fall for their actions… I’m out for blood. Time flies when you're driving like your life depends on it, the city lights flashing by so fast that they are a blur, and then all of a sudden you’re in a quiet neighborhood with everyone’s perfect lawns, perfect families, and perfect lives. I don’t care if the Ferrari is waking the whole neighborhood up or how the bumper is probably dragging against the ground, scratches up and down the vehicle… I want my piece of flesh before I leave California far behind me.

  The gates are wide open when I pull up to Logan’s house, so I speed up the long driveway and come to a quick stop with the tires screeching. I throw the door open with the keys still in the ignition, and limp over to the open garage door where laughter is coming from. I’ll worry about the pain I’m in later, right now, I want to cause pain to someone else. The first person who comes into view is Logan and I don’t think, my body just reacts. With a scream of frustration and hate, I run at him, my fists flying, looking for any body part that I can reach and will cause harm.

  “You fucking cocksucker! You guys left me for the cops! What kind of asshol-” I’m ripped away from Logan, kicking and scratching at any exposed skin I can get to until a cellphone is thrust into my face with a video playing.

  It takes me a second to get past the red haze that I’
m trapped in to understand what’s happening.

  “This, my darling, would be called blackmail,” Nicky states, coming into view with his cold emerald eyes pinning me into place.

  I slump in Tey’s arms with confusion clouding my brain, absentmindedly noticing it’s him swaying us both by the small cut on the back of his hand that’s placed over my stomach.

  “Blackmail? I don’t…what?” I continue watching the video of me breaking into the dealership and hijacking the Ferrari like a car thief, some dirtbag criminal doped up on drugs.

  Only a crazy person would steal a car in their underwear. I was set up just so they could get blackmail on me?

  “You wouldn’t want this plastered all over the news stations, would you? Takes only one phone call to have the cops here in minutes and the Jokers to find out where their missing princess is,” Nicky threatens softly and deadly, his plan all too clear now.

  I’m a pawn in a game I can’t win. He puts his phone away and steps back, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “No,” I whisper brokenly, feeling lost.

  “Yes,” Tey taunts in my ear darkly, using that wicked tongue of his to lick the shell of my ear, his tongue ring giving me shivers before he bites down hard on the tender flesh.

  “We own you from here on out,” Logan states, his pupils expand with the possessive look he gives me.

  “To do what we want with.” Dalton finishes for Logan, reaching out to grab a lock of my hair, and twirling it around his finger.

  I smack his hand away and buck against Tey’s body in an attempt to break free but it just causes him to groan in pleasure with how much I’m wriggling against him.

  “Get on your knees,” Logan demands smoothly like whiskey over ice, his lips set in a firm line and his honeyed eyes watching me, just waiting for me to fight.

  Tey adds a little pressure on my shoulders to push me along, and I debate under the weight of my odds of ever really leaving this lifestyle behind. I ran from a motorcycle club into the arms of another crew of criminals.