Twisted with Chaos: A CASH BAR NOVEL

by Faiman, Hayley

  Snake lifts his chin, his eyes watching me, but he doesn’t speak. I wait, we all wait, in silence. “Can you do anything with them?” he finally asks, glancing over to MadDog.

  “Like what? Not into keeping brainwashed bitches as whores,” he snorts.

  Snake shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. My eyes shift over to the women. They’re all staring straight forward, their eyes looking glazed over. They’re drugged. Not one of them has any type of emotion on their face.

  “Leave them here,” I suggest.

  I can feel dozens of eyes on me, watching me, and probably shocked as fuck that I’ve said anything. “You got an in with the law enforcement?” I ask, turning toward the Regina president.

  “I do. But a couple dead cult members is one thing, women is another,” he points out.

  Shaking my head, I swing my gaze from the women back to him. “They’re drugged. They probably don’t even see us right now. Even if they did, they most likely don’t remember anything that’s happened since they arrived here.

  “Just like I don’t remember what Dimples and that prospect did with me. These assholes have kept them drugged this entire time, kept them compliant. Let the local law deal with them. Hopefully they have families that are looking for them, that gives a shit.”

  MadDog makes a noise, then takes a step forward. “Houston is right. These women are lost right now. Let the locals deal with them.”

  My arms are released a few moments later. I don’t blame my brothers for holding me back. Not in the slightest. I’m glad that they did, the last thing we need to do is fight amongst one another.

  “I need to know if Roxie is the woman that was saved,” I rasp, turning to Snake.

  “Take someone with you, we’ll get this shit cleaned up,” he says, lifting a hand to wave me off.

  Free takes a step toward me. “I’ll go with you, let’s go get your girl.”

  I contemplate telling him to fuck off, but I don’t. I’m irrational right now. Scared, no, terrified. If she isn’t there, then I really won’t know where she is, and I’ll be fucking lost forever. I won’t make it back from the complete loss of her, I’m already running on pure hope. With hope gone, I may as well just fucking off myself.

  “If she’s there, you’re going to need to keep your shit together, and that’s what I’m for,” Free announces as we begin to walk toward my car. Stopping, I tilt my head to the side to look over at him. “She’s been held for months, Houston. She’s going to be as lost as those other women. Probably more than them. You will lose your shit.”

  Taking a deep breath, I lift my chin. He’s right. He’s so fucking right. Clenching my hands in fists, I nod once. “I am going to lose it, a million times over.”

  He smirks. “And I’ll be there to make sure that you don’t lose it on her.”

  “Never,” I rasp.

  He snorts. “Brother, you don’t know how you’ll react. Anger and pain takes over and changes a man.”

  We don’t say another word. He’s not wrong. Anger and pain have turned me into a man that I don’t recognize in the past. They could very easily do it again. I’ve already killed the fuck who had her. There’s nobody left to kill, to take my anger out on—nobody but her and myself.

  ROXANNE

  “You’ve been treated fairly well for your situation. You have some scar tissue, other than that, I think that with time your body will heal completely,” the doctor announces as he stands, taking a step back from between my legs.

  Tugging the gown down over my legs, I sit up and look over at him. “I can’t remember anything, is it because of my illness, or something else?”

  There’s something akin to pity in his gaze as he looks down at me. He inhales a deep breath. “I won’t know for sure until I run all of the needed tests on the blood samples I extracted,” he explains. “I have a feeling you were probably drugged, but also that your mind was protecting you from the situation as well.”

  Frowning, I stare up at him, confused at what he’s trying to tell me. “The mind is strong, dear. However, the body is stronger. If you were enduring things that your mind could not process, then it can actually hide it from your memory bank. Protecting your fragile state. Keeping you safe and sane.”

  His words fill me, they resonate, and I know them to be true. I can’t remember even my name, let alone what has happened to me. The past is now nothing but a blur of colors.

  “You will probably remember, hopefully over time and not all at once, but I do believe that you will remember what happened to you.”

  “I’m not sure that I want to,” I whisper.

  His eyes soften. “I don’t blame you, girl.”

  There’s a noise in the clubhouse, and we freeze. I hear men’s voices. One man screams, it sounds so pained and my heart leaps up to my throat. My heart starts to race, its loud pounding rises to my ears, drowning out the sound of the man’s shouts.

  The door flies open and Dice is on the other side. “Babe, I think that man that you can’t remember. He’s here, and he really wants to see you,” he grins, but I can see the anxiety in his face. He’s worried, maybe for himself, but then again, maybe for me.

  Standing, my feet carry me toward the loud angry shouts. The bar is fairly empty, only a few people mill around, but right now it’s completely still. I see him. Tall, broad, shorter hair, stubbled face. His eyes meet mine and my breath stops, catching in my throat.

  He is someone.

  He is important.

  He is mine.

  “Roxanne,” his voice calls out hoarse, pained, and then he stumbles, catching himself on a chair.

  I don’t move. I’m frozen in my spot. Roxanne. It must be my name, and yet, it doesn’t sound familiar to my ears. I’ve been a nameless person for so long that I don’t even recognize the word. Frowning, I watch him. He looks like he is physically in pain. He takes a step toward me, then another, then he makes quick distance to close the space between us.

  His arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me against his chest. My face automatically buries against his neck. Inhaling his scent, I sigh at the smell. It’s comforting, it’s familiar, just like his embrace. He picks me up, my feet no longer touching the ground as he walks out of the room.

  “Wait,” the doctor’s voice calls out. “You her man?” he asks.

  The man pauses, turning around but keeping me exactly where he wants me, against him and in his embrace.

  “I am,” he says, his voice a rumble, a vibration that I can feel from his chest.

  “I need to talk to you, boy,” the doctor announces.

  “Later,” the man growls.

  The doctor clears his throat. “You’ll want to talk to me now, not later, it’s for her safety,” he explains.

  The man walks us toward the doctor, I don’t release him. I can’t. I’m safe. He’s safe. I don’t listen to the doctor speak, his voice is nothing but murmured noises. I can tell when the man hears something he doesn’t like, though. His grip tightens and his back straightens. Then after a few moments, we’re on the move again. He doesn’t release me until we’re in a quiet room. Only then does he allow my feet to touch the ground.

  His eyes look down into mine, and I search his face, hoping for some type of memory of him to appear in my mind. It doesn’t. He’s comfortable, he’s safe, but I don’t remember anything about him.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  Pain slices across his features at my question. “Tanner. You call me Tanner, my little Firefly,” he rasps.

  Reaching up, I cup his cheek feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingertips. “I feel love and affection for you. But I also feel pain when I look at you.”

  His lips tip in a half smile. “We’ve fought, but we love one another. You’re never leaving my side again, no matter what. You understand that?” he asks.

  I nod, my heart racing with anxiety at the thought of ever leaving his side. I don’t want to go anywhere without him, not ever agai
n. This man is my home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  HOUSTON

  She doesn’t recognize me. She doesn’t even know my fucking name. The doc warned me. He told me that she’s retreated into herself, a way to save what was left of her already fragile mind. I didn’t want to believe him, but I do.

  Fucking shit, do I believe him.

  The woman looking back at me, she isn’t my Roxanne, but I don’t care, I’m keeping her anyway.

  “Roxanne, you called me Roxanne, is that my name?” she asks.

  Another blow, direct hit. Fuck. She doesn’t even remember her own goddamn name.

  Clearing my throat, I focus on her eyes, and the feel of her hand against my face. “Yeah, Firefly, your name is Roxanne,” I rasp. “Your name is Roxanne and you’re my woman. We’re going to leave this place, go home, and you’re never coming back, okay?”

  “Okay,” she breathes.

  Pulling her against my chest, my hands fist in the bullshit dress that she’s wearing. A dress that shows the world every part of her beautiful body. “I will help you, Roxanne. I’ll take you home to your family, we’ll help you, Firefly,” I grind out.

  Her eyes widen. “Family?” she asks. There’s a hope in her voice that completely crushes me.

  “Your best friend, her son, the people we love.”

  She nods as if understanding my words, but she doesn’t, she couldn’t possibly. My heart breaks for the truths that she’s going to have to uncover, the pain that she will have to feel all over again.

  Part of me hopes that she never remembers her past. That we can start all over again. If I can shield her from her painful past, I want to do that, for her—selfishly, for us.

  There’s a knock on the door, I curse, not wishing to see anyone, but I know my brothers are just trying to check on me, just making sure that we’re okay. Shifting my cut off, I tug my shirt over my head.

  “Just a minute,” I call out as I pull the t-shirt on over Roxie’s head and letting it fall down her body to cover her nakedness from whoever is on the other side of the door.

  “Tanner?” she asks.

  I smile, touching my finger to the tip of her nose. “Outside of that fucked up group, women in relationships stay covered unless it’s for their men’s eyes only,” I wink.

  She blinks, looking down at her body, covered in my shirt. “Oh,” she breathes.

  Turning away from her, I pull the door open. Snake and MadDog are on the other side. They walk into the room without an invitation, but I don’t mind. I honestly don’t even know whose room this is, anyway.

  “Dice was the nomad that recognized her as a possible Old Lady, he figured she belonged to someone, brand or no brand, he said he knew. Glad to see it was your woman, Houston,” MadDog announces.

  I lift my chin. “Me too,” I admit.

  “We’ll be heading home in a few hours, as will your crew?” he asks, turning his gaze toward Snake.

  “The sooner we’re away from this place, the better. I’ve already put in a call to Idaho to have the women and children sent back home,” Snake announces.

  MadDog lets out a sigh. “Are we finally done with this fuckin’ shit?” he asks.

  We all exchange looks, waiting to see if the other will answer, but saying the words aloud, they feel wrong, like we’re secretly asking for more. We thought with the death of Skull that shit was finally done, it wasn’t. They’re like a goddamn bad disease, they make their way back over and over again, like cats with nine goddamn lives.

  “For now,” Snake grunts. “For fuckin’ now. Until someone else appears.”

  “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth,” MadDog chuckles. His gaze finds mine and he lifts his chin. “Take care of your girl. She’s gonna need you,” he instructs. Without waiting for my response, he turns and walks out of the room.

  “Good to have you back, Roxie,” Snake says.

  Roxanne doesn’t say anything. Turning my head to face her, she looks terrified. Holding my hand out, she slips her cool fingers against my own. Wrapping my hand around hers, I gently tug her against my side.

  “Roxanne, this is Snake. He’s the president, the leader of our club. His wife is Ginger, and if you want to go back to work at her bar, she’ll be your boss,” I explain. Snake frowns, his eyebrows lift, and I shake my head. “You’ll be okay, I’m going right outside the door to talk to Snake for a minute,” I tell her. She nods but doesn’t speak. I give her hand one squeeze, and make my way out into the hall with Snake.

  “What the fu—”

  I hold my hand up, interrupting his question.

  “She was drugged like the others. She doesn’t remember anything. The doctor said she suppressed it all, including her entire past. Everything is gone, for now. It could come back, it could not. She didn’t remember her name, mine, or anything else. Honest to fuck, selfish as it sounds, I hope it don’t come back.”

  “Houston,” he warns.

  I shrug. “Yeah I know, I’m a fucking asshole. Never said I wasn’t. But Christ, Snake. If it doesn’t come back, neither does the pain of her illness, of the fact that she can’t have kids, none of it will crash into her. And neither will whatever hell she lived at the hands of that piece of shit. It will all just be gone.”

  Snake watches me, his eyes searching my own. “Do you hope it doesn’t come back for her sake, or your own?” he asks.

  I don’t even have to think about his words. I already know the answer. I should be ashamed of it, but I’m not. “Mine. I’m a selfish motherfucker,” I grin.

  Snake shakes his head. “Yeah, but I don’t even blame you,” he chuckles.

  “When do we head out?”

  Snake clears his throat, his gaze shifts behind me, but I don’t turn around. The door didn’t open, he’s just thinking about Roxanne and her ability to travel. She’ll be fine, because I’ll take care of her, it’s not his fucking concern.

  “Leave in an hour?” he asks.

  “We’ll be ready.”

  Turning around, I walk back into the bedroom. Closing the door behind me, my gaze finds the woman that I thought I would never see again. Her hair is a little longer, it’s still light in color and she’s still too thin for my taste.

  “We’re leaving in an hour,” I announce.

  “Is Dice coming with us?” she asks.

  My head jerks back at her question. Dice. Dice? I want to confront her about the question. Why does she want him, what did he do to her, what does he mean to her? Rage fills my entire body, and I imagine Dice laying in a pool of his own blood. Shaking my head, I force the image out of my head. He saved her, he protected her when I couldn’t, just like a fucking brother should.

  “How about you take a shower and get cleaned up. I’ll talk to him and bring you some clothes?”

  She looks back at the bathroom behind her, then shifts her gaze toward me. “You don’t want to watch me?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

  My heart pounds in my chest, and I know her next words are going to be fucked up. I know it, but it doesn’t stop me from asking them anyway.

  “Watch you?”

  Her eyes focus on mine. They’re serious, solemn, and I fucking hate it. I want my Firefly back. My wild girl. Maybe I do want her back, after all. This woman, she’s too lost. “Maîtriser always watched me shower,” she breathes.

  Taking a step toward her, I wrap my hand loosely around the side of her neck. Using my thumb, I feel the underside of her jaw. “You are not with him anymore, Roxanne. You are free now. He held you captive and I am not that man. I’ll watch you if you want me to, but never without your desired permission,” I rasp.

  Her tongue peeks out, tasting her bottom lip as her eyes search my own. “Okay,” she breathes. “Okay.”

  Lowering my face, I brush my lips across her forehead. It goes against everything inside of me, especially the hard cock inside of my jeans, but I don’t do anything other than kiss her forehead. Not yet, not until I know exactly what she’s b
een through, not until I know how stable she is.

  ROXANNE

  Tanner leaves me alone. Except I don’t feel quite as lonely as I did when Maîtriser had me. Tanner said I was free, and I believe him. I feel free. Walking toward the bathroom, I look at my reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at me is a stranger, then again, I haven’t seen her in months and I don’t remember much about her anyway.

  Lifting my hand, I use my fingertips to touch my face. My cheek, my lips, my nose, and finally my forehead where Tanner’s soft lips kissed me. Slowly, I remove my clothes. The gold gown is soft to the touch as I take it off of my body, but I can’t help the reaction of pure disgust when I look at it crumpled in my hand.

  Tossing it in the trash, I can’t deny the relief I feel that the material is gone. Returning my eyes back toward the mirror, and my reflection, I take in my body. I look thin, I have bones that stick out where my hips are, and my ribs. My breasts are only a small handful, as well. My pale skin isn’t bruised or marred, so I suppose that I am thankful for that.

  Once I’ve inspected every inch of my body that I’m able to, I turn toward the shower and start the water. It doesn’t take me long to clean myself using what soap is in the space. It’s not as clean as my bathroom in the concrete room, but I don’t mind. I’m free.

  Once I’m refreshed, my hair is washed, and I have a towel wrapped around my body, I walk back into the bedroom. Tanner is there, a folded pile of fabrics in his hands. His eyes slowly climb up my body, then land on my face.

  His lips turn up into a smile. “Got some clothes, don’t ask where they came from. No panties or bra, didn’t think you’d want some other bitch’s personal shit,” he shrugs. “You can wear these, though.” He holds his hand out. I reach for the objects and take them from his grasp.

  “Dice will join us. Says he’d like to settle down with a club anyway, wants to make sure you’re okay. I think he could be sweet on you, is that a problem?” I ask.