by Jaci J.
Punching a hole in the wall next to him, Low roars with anger, “Fuck! That fucking Motherfucker!” Every brother is stuck. Stuck standing here looking confused as fuck. Yeah the dead motherfucker lives. Time to find him and kill him for good this time.
“Explains why Crow bagged his head, didn't want anyone to see who's head was blown off,” Sargent says with an air of finality to the question.
Sitting in Church, brothers are sitting around the table, others standing. The rooms packed to capacity. Every chapter within three hundred miles is here and ready for war. The air is filled with anger and energy.
“Josh musta been the motherfucker who killed Crow then. Shit got too messy for Dracos, killed Crow, the only Disciple who knew,” Arms explains. This shit runs deep. Shit trailing back at least ten years.
“Don't get this shit. Why would Crow go rogue? Why would he flip and get with Draco?” I can't seem to figure the 'why's' out. This shit isn’t making much sense. The part where the guy bagged and killed wasn't Josh makes sense. It was a set up. Some guy that no one knows, was killed in place of Josh, Crow setting it up. Then Josh killed Crow, because he knew too much.
Disciples thought with Josh dead, the threat was gone. We slip off of our game. My question is why? Why would Crow turn and why would Josh go through all this shit? A few brothers grunt in agreement.
“Knew that son of a bitch was filthy from the jump. Somethin' didn't sit well with me 'bout him. Always wanted what we had for himself, but never wanted to be a Disciple to get at it.” Gin barks, slamming his fists on the table. His temper waning.
“So this shits for power?” Happy growls in confusion. Low stands up from the head of table, hands in his hair. Everybody shuts up and looks to him.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Every eye in the room watching him. Agitation and anger roll off him. “It all makes perfect sense,” Low whispers menacingly. Holding my breath I wait for it. “Dracos’ have always wanted what we've got. All the connections, pipelines, runs, you name it. … Fuckin' Christ.” Shaking his head it all seems to dawn on him. “Motherfuckers got close to Josh in Iraq. They used him to get to us. Offered him the power he always wanted in exchange for info on us. Remember nine years ago, the cargo van that disappeared and the one blown the fuck up? Me, you, and Crow were the only ones that knew 'bout that run,” Low says to Tiny.
Realization dawns of Tiny's face. “Shit!” Nodding solemnly Low almost looks sick.
“Yeah brother. Crow was always 'bout his money. Must of paid him heavily to flip on us, offered him protection from us, but they flipped on him. He was just a pawn.” Sitting back down Low steeples his fingers under his chin looking angry and a little lost. I'm at a loss for words too. Breathing deeply he continues.
“Must still be alive and part of Draco. Josh always wanted Lil. Always wanted to take her from me, from us. She's power to him. As long as he’s got her, he thinks he's safe. Part the reason I let her move away after all this shit. He took her for power over me, over us. Took her ‘cause he loves her, too. Loves her to death.”
God, I think I might be sick. He hurts my girl I'm gonna break every single fuckin ’bone in his body, pulling each tooth, cutting off limbs, then letting him slowly bleed out.
“Two days before Lucy died we went to see Lil, switched her cars so I could work on her shit. That hit wasn't on Lucy, that shit was for Lil. Right car, wrong person. That attack on Lil at the store was for her, having her deliver a message to us. In the back yard, that was them tryin' to get her after they sent a message. It was a message from Dracos to us saying they're comin' for her. Not only is Josh part of Draco, but he was coming for Lil. Dracos knows Lil's my weak spot; they're using him to get her and her to get to me. To get what we have. ... Jesus Fuckin' Christ.”
************
It's been three days. Three excruciatingly hard days and we haven't heard shit. There's not a trace of them, not one slip up, not one crumb left behind. It's like they've disappeared into thin air. Everyone is tense and on edge and the club is bristling with anger. Everything is up in the air right now ‘cause the balls in their court. I'm impatiently waiting for them to play their hand. I know it’s coming, there is a war on the horizon.
Lying in my room at the club I can't stop thinking about Lil. I can't fucking eat. I can't sleep. Can't concentrate. She's everywhere. Her clothes in my room, her car’s in my driveway, my sheets smell like her. Fuck, I just want her back. Want to touch her, hold her, and know she's here with me. Laying here I wonder if she's okay. If she's hurt. Is that sick prick feeding her, touching her? Fuck.
My phone rings breaking into the silence. Jumping up, I frantically start searching for it. Pulling it off the nightstand I see it's a blocked number. My heart stops.
“Yeah?” There's silence for a brief moment, that moment feeling like hours.
“Tank?” Lil's hoarse voice comes through the line. Shit! I almost die from the frantic beat of my heart starting, and my body jumps into action.
“Lil, baby. Where are you? You okay?” There's silence followed by a loud banging noise. My heart falls to my feet. I listen, trying to hear anything that can help me find my baby.
“Baby. Talk to me!” Still I'm met with silence. My phone is still connected, so I know she's there. I'm shaky as fuck trying not to drop my phone.
“Lilly! Goddamn it, talk to me. Please baby, tell me where you are.” More silence, then I hear her. Her words sound final. “I love you, Roman.” The phone disconnects and my heart stops completely. Fuck!
34
Lil
I've been stuck in this nasty room for at least twenty-four hours now. The house I was in before wasn’t much better than this room though. It's my punishment for trying to use the phone. Too bad for them, I did get the chance to use it anyways.
It's not a large room, but then again, it's not tiny either. There are no windows and only one door. One way in, one way out so I'm stuck.
Okay, if I remember correctly, the room is centered in the middle of the house I'm in. I certain this room used to be a kitchen. The floor is that horrible stick on tile, peeling in most corners. Hell some tiles are even missing, leaving the sub floor underneath. These are those green and yellow tiles, with squares within squares for a pattern. I'm sure it's from the seventies. The walls are a dingy mustard color. The upper half of the walls are the dirtiest, and the bottom half are a little cleaner. I think that's where the cabinets once hung.
I really do wish there was a window in here. It's hot as hell in this room and I'd kill for a breeze right now. Even with my lack of clothes, I'm still hot. A thin sheen of sweat slicks my skin.
Josh took my clothes so I’m in nothing but my black panties and bra. Usually this wouldn't bother me, but I have a feeling my clothes, or lack thereof, is for a reason. A reason I'm trying desperately not to think about.
I'm sweaty and I feel so dirty. I could really use a shower. I'm also really hungry and thirsty. A TV or something to read would be nice. I'm still trying hopelessly to focus on the little things like my lack of clothes, needing a shower, entertainment, and this kitchen room I'm in. I just can’t think of Tank, and the hard truth that I'll probably never see him again, let alone make it through this alive. I've had little contact with anyone. The only person I see is Josh. When I do see him he isn't kind. He's not sweet. Smacking me around he tells me it's because of what I did to him that I'm here. How I turned my back on him. It still blows my mind that he's alive and blaming me for whatever his sick fuckin’ mind thinks I did to him. Sometimes I feel like this is some really sick, sad dream. If that were only true.
“Get up bitch,” Josh grumbles from somewhere near my ear. Hearing his voice, I pretend to be asleep, hoping to God he'll leave me alone.
“Lilly,” he says with more force.
“Go away,” I growl.
Jerking on my arm he says, “Shut up bitch, and get the fuck up.” Shaking my shoulders hard, hands traveling down my back. Steeling my body I wait for the touching
. Over the past three days he's been growing increasingly grabby with me. Always looking at me like I'm a piece of food and he's starving. Finding reasons to touch me. Those touches always turn into a caress. I'm waiting for the more part. I can see the sex and lust in his eyes when he looks at me and know it’s coming soon. At first I wondered if my mind was just having a hard time digesting the fact that he was alive as why it bothered me so much. Now I'm starting to think I just don't fucking like him. He couldn't be further from the man I once loved. There's nothing sweet, kind, or pure about him anymore. He doesn't look at me with love. It's a look bordering on contempt now. His violence towards me doesn't help. That coupled with his dirty hygiene and his lack of tenderness makes it really hard not to throw up when he puts his hands on me.
“I'm tired,” I grumble hoping he'll leave me the hell alone.
Kicking the side of the gross mattress I'm on he barks, “Get the fuck up. Tick wants to see you.” I've been waiting for this day, not in anticipation, but in dread. I've been hearing about Tick and not looking forward to seeing him.
Grabbing around my arms, Josh hauls me off of the bed. “Get up. He wants ya now.” Holding onto my arms, he tugs me towards the door. My stomach is in knots and heart in my throat. I’m trying urgently to come up with something, anything to stop this meeting.
“I need clothes,” I shout digging my heels in, trying to stop Josh. Turning hard eyes on me, he runs them up and down my body.
A disturbed smile breaks his face. “The fuck ya do. Tick'll like ya like this.”
What the fuck? Why would he? I'm not here for Tick, am I?
“What?” My voice a whispered stutter. Stopping his trek to the door he looks at me again. His face, now one of feeling sorry for the pathetically stupid girl.
“Ya didn't think you were just here for me, did ya? Had to offer Tick somethin' for his help in gettin' ya back.”
My head spins, heart plummets and my stomach twists. Oh no. He's giving me to Tick? Shaking my head my eyes plead with Josh. I don't want either, but he's the lesser of two evils. Oh fuck. “Don't ya worry, It'll be over soon. Then you're all mine, Lilly baby.”
Pulling me out the door, through a small yard towards a large shop, he doesn't let me go. Josh holds my arm tightly as he drags me, fingers bruising my skin. A summer rain is pelting the ground and the rain drops are hitting my overheated body. Humid and hot, my nearly naked body is sheeted with sweat and rain.
Pulling on my arm even harder, he pushes me into a large shop bay, full of biker scum. I watch bloodshot dilated eyes scout me once I'm through the door, taking me in. Watching me. All their expressions giving away what they're thinking. My stomach starts to feel like it’s doing flips and I swear I’m gonna throw up.
Adrenaline starts pumping in my veins and my heart starts beating wildly in my chest. There's at least ten guys in here. Not one single female but me. I'm severely out numbered.
Josh shoves me hard towards a man standing at one side of the room alone. Looking up, I'm hit with that scarred face from the store, with that nasty ass sneer just for me.
“Well, well. Good ta see ya again, bitch,” the man growls in pleasure at me. Turning back to Josh, I beg, pleading to him with my eyes. He loved me once, right? Is he really just going to throw me to the wolves, knowing what they'll do to me? I know how these men treat women, it's not good. For me it'll be even worse, a whole lot worse.
My father being Low, President of the Disciples, they'll make an example of me. Chew me up and spit me out, that's if I survive the chewing up.
I can't look away from Josh, pleading desperately. Shaking his head, he has the heart to look a little sad. Maybe even a little scared for me. The fear in his eyes heightens my fear. They're going to kill me.
“Don’t need ta be lookin' at him for help. Yous here for me girly,” Scar face bites bitterly. My eyes swing to his. This is it, fight or flight. If I make a run for it, I'm making it ten feet before they get me. It’s time to fight.
Squaring my shoulders, I hold my head high. I may go down, but I will be damned if it won't be without a fight.
“Your dear ol' Daddy know ya hear? What 'bout ya ol' man?” Scar face taunts me. Nodding, I offer my own sweet smile. Throwing his head back he laughs,
“Do they now? Why ain't they here den, savin' da princess?” He's got me there, but I’m still not giving in. Shrugging flippantly, I quirk my eyebrow.
“They will be.” Shaking his head, he eyes me again. His gaze makes my skin crawl.
“Ya know ya ol' man killed a few a' my guys?” Shaking my head I go for clueless. Scar face looks at a guy a few feet behind me to my left.
“Tank killed ya brother Meats?” Shifting slightly I peek over my shoulder at the guy. Oh shit. He doesn't look mad, he looks deadly.
“Well brotha, whatcha think? She do for repayment.” Looking at me with a terrifying smile, Meats nods.
“Yeah, could tear da cunt up. She'll be fun.”
************
My arms are tied above my head, ropes hanging from the rafters hoisting them up. The tight bite of the rope is cutting into my flesh and burns terribly. My ribs burn and feel like they are tearing from the pull in my body and from the hits I’m taking. I can feel my skin swelling and bruising with every hit. Some of these guys like to hit girls, a few used me as a human punching bag. It wasn't fun, but so far, I’m surviving it, but just barely. That's not the part that's terrifying. First is not being able to fight back. I have no way of protecting myself. Second, it's the fact I'm in next to nothing, leaving me open and exposed to all of these men. It’s all to degrade me.
My skin is covered in sweat and rain, which has now been caked with dirt and mud. For some odd reason, Josh had the decency to put my boots back on me, God knows why. Wearing only my bra, panties and black knee high riding boots has me scared and jumpy at any movement near my body. I'm just waiting for someone to touch me again. I've been strung up for a while. at least an hour or two, hell maybe more. I've lost track of time. My arms have lost all feeling, my fingers are numb, and my skin cold. My upper body aches to the bone.
I'm alone out here. They left with no promise to return. I'm hopeful someone other than the guys who took me will find me. I miss Tank. I miss him desperately. I'd give anything to be in his bed, safely tucked in his arms right now. I love him and I should have told him to his face. I should have done a lot of things differently.
The roar of bikes cuts into my thoughts. Hope builds only to be dashed by scar face's mangled mug.
“Fuck ya are a beautiful cunt,” Scar face, or now I've learned, Tick, rasps as he walks to me. He wraps his hand around the back of my knee.
“Don't fuckin' touch me.” His hands start running up and down my legs.
“Why all the mouthy bitches gotta be hot as fuck?” Tick asks no one in particular. “Ya havin' fun up there princess?” He teases giving my body a little swing. My toes barely touch the ground, making it hard to stop the swinging, my feet dragging in the dirt. The movement of the ropes cuts deeper into my wrists and I stuff down the need to groan in pain. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
Josh comes in and looks at me, regret in his eyes. “You should cut her down,” Josh says. Tick cuts his laughing eyes to Josh.
“Yeah?” Nodding Josh looks back at me, his face a mask of nothing. He doesn't care.
“Yeah, unless ya like fuckin' bitches with missin' arms ‘cause hers look 'bout ready to fall the fuck off.”
Laughing, Tick shrugs carelessly. Snatching a buck knife from his back pocket, he points it at me. The blade is shiny and long. I steel myself for the pain I know I've got coming. Holding my breath and biting the inside of my cheek, I wait.
Touching the cold blade to my upper thigh he pushes it into my skin. I feel the pain as my skin breaks open around the blade. The blade slices down, not deep enough to do a lot of damage, but enough to make it hurt. Dragging it slowly he watches with rapt attention. I get a long eight inch gash in my thigh.
Biting my lip I hold that shit in. Closing my eyes I pray he stops there.
“Even fuckin' pretty when she’s bleedin'” Tick says looking at his handy work. I can feel the blood trickle down my leg into my boot and the pain slicing into my leg.
With a swift slice, the rope falls free; My body hits the ground hard in a heap. My legs shaky, arms numb, and body aching. Pushing down the pain, I get up because I can't stay down. I can't be weak right now.
With a cruel laugh, Tick watches me, amused excitement on his face at my stumbled shaky stance.
“Daddy taught ya well. Bad ass little cunt, ain't ya.” Twisting quickly he throws his buck knife into a wood pole a foot away from my face. He’s testing me and trying to scare me. Hitting the pole with precise accuracy, I don't even flinch. I don't scream. I can't let them smell the fear on me. His eyes widen a fraction.
“Bitch, if ya wasn't a Disciple, I'd make ya my Old Lady. Bad fuckin' bitch.” I sneer at his deranged compliment. I'd die before I'd ever be his.
“C'mere,” he demands harshly, crooking a finger in my direction. Backing up I look for a way out, something to save myself. I know as the seconds tick by my chances run thin. I have to get out or I’m not going to live.
“C'mere cunt!” Tick roars with impatience. My time has run out. Surging forward, he makes a grab for me. Dodging his hands, I jump to my left. Head first at me, he tries again with disgusting determination on his face. Spinning, I duck around him making a grab for the buck knife, I pull it out of the wood as I go. The need for some sort of protection has me trying for it. With a sadistic laugh he lunges again, no consideration for the knife in my hand. He’s enjoying this little cat and mouse game, taking pleasure in making me fight for my life.
Faking right and then left I dodge him by only inches, stopping his pursuit as he looks me dead in the eyes. I’m facing off with him and my heart stutters at the sheer hate and loathing he has for me.
“This ain't gonna end well for ya princess. C'mere, ‘cause imma kill ya either way, cunt.” Stepping back everything goes still for a fraction of a second.