It made him laugh, his face twisted and cruel. “Damn girl, you taste good. But we’ll use a dental gag when I want my cock in there. Can’t risk your teeth on my cock.” What’s he talking about? But while I might not know exactly what he was suggesting, he hadn’t needed to draw me a picture.
Then it was time for payback, for me kicking out at him. His fisted hands flew at me, starting on my breasts. He’d pinned my free arm to the wall so I couldn’t escape, then kneaded and twisted, pinching and hurting. Then he pushed his fingers up inside me. Probing, pushing up rudely into my dry channel, mimicking what he’d have been doing if I hadn’t damaged him. Oh, God, did he hurt me. When I tried to press my legs together, he’d done worse, kicking apart my legs and sending his boot-clad foot hard into my most tender parts. Then it was a fist to my stomach, stealing my breath and sending bile rising into my mouth. At that point he let me go, a quivering mess on the floor. A kick to my ribs and I screamed.
His hand went to his belt, and as I widened my eyes, he’d sneered at me coldly. “I’m waiting no longer. You thought you incapacitated me, but you’re a stupid fucking bitch. I’m hard for you, girl. Been hard since I first saw your picture. My balls might be throbbing, but they’ll be better for some release. Now I’m going to have that virgin pussy, and I’m going to enjoy making you bleed.”
I screamed, not thinking anyone would hear me, knowing there was nothing I could do to prevent being raped.
It was then, when I’d given up all hope, I heard a shot. I let out another loud scream as Kurt’s eyes flew to the stairway. In a split second, his posture changed from aggressor to one defeated as the mass of men poured down the stairs, Viper, and thank God, Drummer, in the lead. He pulled me against him and put his gun to my head, pressing so hard into my temple he bruised my skin.
In the next few minutes, so many emotions whirled through my mind that I ended up dizzy. Elation that Drummer was there, horror that Kurt was going to kill me. Disgust when I thought for a split second the bikers were going to accept his extravagant offer, fear that they would, hope, at the expression in Drummer’s eyes—or was it just wishful thinking he was trying to persuade me that was the last thing on his mind—that he wouldn’t consider it for a moment. Then I watched as Blade threw that knife, showing his skill with the weapon that carries his name, Kurt dropping the gun… And, at last, Drummer taking me in his arms. I knew I never wanted him to let me go again.
Now safe in the van, as my torture replays in my mind, shudders shake my body. I’m crying and sobbing, my fingers twisting in Drummer’s shirt. He’s speaking to me so softly, murmuring quietly, over and over, “Hush, you’re safe now. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
The van’s moving fast. Glancing up through my tears, I see we’re back on the interstate. Suddenly there’s a thump from the back, and I jump and cry out, remembering they’ve brought Kurt along for the ride. Why, I’m not sure. I’d been certain Drummer would kill him.
“It’s alright, he can’t hurt you, babe.” Drummer’s strong arms wrap around me, I stifle a groan as he squeezes my sore ribs. “I promise you, he won’t hurt you ever again.” He turns my head so I face him, his eyes examining me. “Forget him.” His eyes look over me, his gaze tormented. “Sam, he’ll pay for what he’s done to you.” He stares into my eyes, trying to read the answer there as he asks, “I need to know, did he…?”
He can’t say the words, and as another violent shudder goes through me as I remember just how close it had been, I can’t bring myself to speak.
Drum’s face grows black, his mouth tightens, and it’s now he asks, elucidating every syllable so there can be no misunderstanding, “Did he rape you?”
I shake my head in denial. “No, not with, but…”
“He touched you,” he growls.
I give a faint nod.
“He hurt you.”
At my second nod, he gets out his phone and wastes no time when it’s answered. “Doc, you still at the club? Stay there. I need you.”
“No, Drum,” I don’t want anyone touching me.
Drummer ends the call, ignoring my protest. His steely eyes gaze into mine. “I need to know exactly what the motherfucker did to you, so I can make him pay.”
At that moment, there’s a muffled groaning from behind me. I don’t want to relive either the things he’d done or the fear and disgust I’d felt. Not when my tormentor is lying behind me savouring my suffering and pain. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he hurt me, or that he’s left mental scars along with the physical. He’d wanted to hurt me. I don’t want to leave him the gratification that he had.
Drummer’s phone rings, he answers, “Speak to me.”
“Uh huh.”
“Right.”
“Who?”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, we got him.”
There’s a pause while he considers his answer, then, “Yeah, alright. You’re making us get a bit too friendly with them. Not sure as to how much I like that.”
Then a chuckle. “Yeah, it will damage our fuckin’ rep.”
He ends the call without a goodbye. Sniffing, I wipe my eyes and raise them to his in silent question.
His eyes soften as he returns my gaze. “That was Devil. The truck got to the meet point, and the boys surrounded them. There was a gunfight, but they weren’t prepared. The brothers captured most of the ringleaders and freed the women.”
“Oh, thank goodness for that!” I’m embarrassed. Overwhelmed by my predicament, I hadn’t given a thought to the rest of the women. Then I go back to what he said. “Most?”
“Yeah, it’s good news, babe. One got away, but they rounded up the others.”
“Anyone hurt?” Viper calls over his shoulder.
“Slick took a bullet to his arm. Only a graze.”
Oh, God, I’d forgotten. “What happened to Roadrunner?” As I remember him lying on the ground and how I left him bleeding out, I freeze. “Is he… is he dead?”
Drum shakes his head. “He got hit pretty bad, darlin’, but the bullet went straight through. Doc’s looking after him at the club. He’s a strong son of a bitch, he’ll recover. And that’s down to you, darlin’. We got Doc on his way as soon as we heard. You did good letting us know.” Drummer strokes my hand. Now he raises his voice so Viper can hear. “Devil’s bringing everyone back to the compound. The men they’ve taken captive and the women they’ve freed. Reckon Sandy and the ol’ ladies will help looking after tbe bitches we’re bringing back?”
Viper flicks his eyes in the rearview mirror. “You know our women, Drum, they’ll be falling over themselves to do what they can. What’s that all about, though, Prez?”
Drummer scoffs. “Seems the FBI wants us to do it a favour, as they’re doing this on the lowdown. They need somewhere to keep the fuckers out of sight and secure, and somewhere the women could be safe while they round up the one that got away.”
“But, Drum?” I start, my brow creasing. “I thought the feds were set up to deal with situations like this. Don’t they arrange counselling and support for people who’ve been trafficked?”
He squeezes me gently. “Right now, I don’t give a fuck what favours they’re asking or why. Getting you back to the compound is the most important thing. Perhaps the feds need to get their ducks in a row before taking the women and captives away. Fuck, Sam…” He breaks off, and I swear his eyes are watering, and he’s thinking about what could have happened to me.
At last I make my fingers unfold, releasing my grip on his shirt. Reaching up, I touch my hand to his face, a tactile reassurance I’m here and alive.
“Something about that I don’t like, Prez. Us doing favours for the feds.”
“Me neither, Viper. But we’ll do what we can. It’s looking after the women I’m more worried about. Joker and Lady can show if they're willing to get their hands dirty and throw in with the old ladies and Marsh getting things ready.”
“There’s the block at
the top, Prez, the one we use for visiting clubs. Reckon we could get half the women in there if we put some more cots in there, and perhaps the one next to it?”
“As long as the sweet butts don’t go on a recruitment drive.” Drum tries to lighten the mood.
“Wouldn’t hurt getting some new pussy.”
I can’t help it; I flinch as I hear them so casually refer to girls providing them with sexual favours, and especially hearing my dad talking so casually about it. Drummer senses me tensing up. “It’s alright, babe. Remember, the sweet butts are here by choice; it’s not the same as you or the other women captured by force. They can walk away at any time. They’re well recompensed for providing their services—we take care of them, feed them, house and protect them.”
I can’t understand how women can do that, not voluntarily, then I remember the things they had said to me. “They don’t like me, Drum.” I hate that I sound like a whiney little girl.
“Only because they don’t yet know your place, sweetheart.”
I’m hurting and sore. I want this drive to be over. I want to heal. But then? I’ve no idea what the future is for me. I mumble, “I don’t know what my place is either.”
Now it’s Drum’s turn to tense. After a slight hesitation, he pulls me to him and nuzzles my hair, tracing his lips down my cheek until they meet mine. I open for him, and he sweeps his tongue inside, immediately erasing all memories of Kurt’s assault on my mouth. But all too soon he pulls away and tucks me under his arm again, and I feel his beard grazing the top of my head. “Your place, if you want it, is with me.” His voice is soft, low, but full of conviction.
I don’t know how to answer him. “Drum, I—”
“Shush, don’t say anything now. But know that’s what I want, darlin’.”
Their prisoner is fully awake now, stirring and kicking at the sides of the van. While Drummer assures me Kurt can’t get free, the sounds coming from the man who hurt me stops me from analysing anything else that’s been said, the wounds on my body and in my mind still too raw. The muffled shouts through the gag start me shaking all over again, and I remain on edge until finally we enter the compound.
When the van comes to a halt, I don’t need to move as Drummer lifts me out and carries me over the hot ground. The sun is setting in the sky, glorious orange streaks reflecting into the storm clouds above. But what would be a wonderful sight is ruined by seeing Kurt dragged out of the van and being dumped unceremoniously on the ground, before being picked up by Wraith and Blade and carried away. I catch his eye before he’s taken out of view and can feel the force of his hatred directed toward me. And strangely too, something which suggests unfulfilled desire. It chills me.
“Where are you taking him?” I ask nervously. Scared he might be able to escape.
“They’re taking him to the storage room. Don’t worry, he won’t be getting out.”
“What are you going to do to him?”
Drummer shakes his head. “Club business, darlin’. But you won’t ever be seeing him again. I promise you that.”
I frown. I would have thought in this instance at least, I deserve to be told, but as he carries me into the clubhouse, he’s clearly not going to say any more. As we enter the main room, there’s a man who’ve I’ve not seen before, standing, waiting. He’s dressed as a biker but isn’t wearing a cut.
“Your patient, Doc,” Drum calls out as he marches with me still in his arms. “I’ll take her out back to my room.”
I hear a gasp and a woman’s voice calling out, “Sam! You’ve got her! What’s the matter with her? Is she alright?” I recognise Sandy’s voice, but it sounds different, bursting with emotion.
Drum doesn’t stop to answer, just carries me through and places me on a soft bed. The mattress sinks as I land on it, and even in the state I’m in, I question if it’s the bed Drummer uses, and just how much action it must have seen. Automatically I pull the t-shirt down to make myself decent, grateful Lady’s a big man and it’s long enough to cover my thighs. Drum sits on the bed beside me and takes my hand as though he’s as reluctant as I am to lose contact, for however short a time.
“Do you want to give us some privacy, Prez?” Doc enters the room, his voice is deep, a little scratchy, but for all that, calm and comforting.
As I grab Drummer’s hand harder, he squeezes back. “Not unless Sam wants me to.”
“Stay, please.” My voice comes out hoarse. I look up to the man staring down at me. “Are you a real doctor?”
His stern features rearrange themselves into a grin. “Ex-Army medic,” he explains. “I’m qualified for the basics, but if you need more extensive treatment, you’ll have to go to a hospital.”
Shaking my head, I dismiss that option immediately. “I don’t want to go anywhere.” I take a tight hold of Drum’s hand.
Doc steps next to the bed, his eyes appraising the external damage he can see. “I’ll make a deal with you. You let me take a look at you, and we take it from there?”
My frightened eyes flit to Drummer. He raises my hand to his lips and kisses it. “Let Doc examine you, darlin’.”
I shake my head. Drummer’s the only man whose hands I want on me.
“Talk me through it then, tell me what he did to you.” Doc’s voice is matter-of-fact, particularly when he adds as though it’s as insignificant as an enquiry about the weather, “Did he rape you?”
“No, he couldn’t.” But he was going to try.
Drum snorts. “He couldn’t get it up?”
“Not after I kicked him, no.”
“Good girl.” Drummer breathes a sigh of satisfaction as Doc laughs loudly.
After swallowing a couple of times, I continue, “He kicked me, hard. There.” I don’t need to explain exactly where there is. “And he put his fingers…” They fill in the gaps for themselves. Drummer snarls and Doc throws him a warning look. “He kicked me in the ribs and whipped me.”
“Prez, pull the sheet up to her waist, will you? And then lift up the shirt. I need to take a look, sweetheart.”
As he’s doing all he can to preserve my modesty, I let him. Gentle fingers, at odds with the size of the man, run over the bruising that’s already starting to purple. He’s so matter-of-fact that strangely I feel no embarrassment exposing my breasts. A sharp indrawn breath from Drummer, and a tightening of Doc’s features before he opens his bag to get out some antiseptic wipes and cleans away the blood from the lashes of the whip. I hiss in air through my teeth; he pauses for a moment, and at my nod carries on.
He continues cataloguing my injuries, studying me carefully, feeling down my arms, pausing at the red ring left by the shackle. After a few moments he straightens.
“I don’t think anything is broken, and the cuts don’t need stitches. You’ll be sore for a while. Any bleeding down below?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Hmm, again, you’ll feel bruised and sore for a while, but if there’s no blood, I doubt any serious damage has been done. I won’t ask to examine you, sweetheart. I think you’ve been through too much for that.”
I attempt a small smile to thank him.
“I’ll leave you some painkillers. Your probably dehydrated, so drink lots of water. And if you can manage it, have something to eat. Then sleep and rest. Prez, I can leave that to you?”
“Yeah,” Drum confirms, his voice catching. “I’ll make fuckin’ sure she’s well looked after.” As Doc packs up his bag, he adds, “Any more news about the prospect?”
“I’m just gonna check on him now.”
Drum nods. “I’ll come out with you and check.” His hand touches my chin. “Sam, I don’t wanna leave you, but there’re things I need to be doing. I’ll send someone in to sit with you, okay? Viper will want to see you if you’re up for that?”
It’s understandable he can’t stay glued to my side, he’s the president after all. Much as I want him to stay close, I know I need to be strong and let him go. Drummer bends over and places a kiss
on my forehead, then gets up from the bed, and after a sorrowful look which screams his reluctance to go, he starts to follow Doc out as he opens the door.
As soon as it’s cracked Viper tries to push his way in.
“I want to see my daughter,” he demands. His face is set. Drum looks over to me, raising his eyebrow. When I nod, he stands aside and lets my father come in.
“We’ll need you at the storage unit,” his prez tells him firmly. Whatever’s going on, it seems Viper needs to be part of it.
Viper gives a sharp nod. “Don’t fuckin’ start until I get there, Prez. I want to make sure that motherfucking bastard can’t ever hurt a woman again.”
Drum slaps him on the back and then leaves us alone. Viper stands by the door, his back leaning against it, staring at me as if trying to convince himself I’m here in the flesh. His eyes open wide as, for the first time, he can properly see the bruising discolouring my face and the marks from the whip on my arms. As though a switch is thrown, he moves quickly, crossing over to the bed. When he comes closer, I see his eyes are bloodshot and rimmed with red, and that they’re beginning to water. It’s then I understand he’s not only here to give comfort to me. Reaching out my hand, he looks at it, takes it, and clasps it in his, squeezing it so tightly it’s borderline painful.
“I’m alright, Viper,” I try to reassure him, knowing if he breaks down it will start me off again too.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he stammers, his voice breaking. “Sam, when the fuckin’ signal was jammed, I thought I’d never find you again.”
“I’m here, Viper. I’m sore but safe. You and Drummer saved me.”
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