by Erin Osborne
Now, he’s the opposite in every way. He’s dressed in a pair of ratty jeans with a tee-shirt that’s seen better days. His hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it while still shorter than a lot of men these days with their long, luscious hair. It’s also greasy and standing on end as if he’s run his hands through it repeatedly. There’s more than a five o’clock shadow on his face that’s sunken in and a shade of ghastly gray. Instead of having crystal clear eyes, his are now dull and lifeless. This is not a man I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Enough fucking around. Get inside and make me dinner. There are groceries in there. If there is anything left, I may allow you to eat,” he taunts me, knowing I’ve never been allowed to eat in front of him before.
I’ll have to sneak a few bites here and there as I prepare his meal. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find poison or something in there to kill him with. Though, with my luck, I’d get caught and end up in prison so my baby would be given to Tags to raise alone.
Yeah, my thoughts are a bit scattered as I exit the SUV and make my way inside. I’d run, but once again the gun is pointed in my direction. I can vaguely hear Scott talking to himself as we make our way inside. Instead of heading anywhere else, I go straight for the kitchen. My need to go to the bathroom is forgotten as I scrounge through the cabinets with doors falling off the hinges and the refrigerator that’s seen better days. I’m surprised it’s even keeping the food chilled at this point.
The interior of the cabin is not much better than the outside. From what I see there is only two rooms, the main room we’re currently in with two closed doors. One on each side of the structure.
“Scott, after I put the hamburger in the pan, can I please use the bathroom?” I plead with him, knowing he likes me begging.
“Hurry the fuck up. I’m starving,” he shouts, paying attention to the TV that’s new.
Looking around the place, the TV is the only new thing in here. The couch Scott is sitting on is falling apart. I’m not sure how it’s holding his weight up. There’s one chair in the room which has also seen better days. I will not be tempting fate by sitting on either piece of furniture.
Making my way to what I assume is the bathroom, I notice holes punched in the walls lining the small section of a half wall between the kitchen and bathroom. Walking inside the small room, there’s a bathtub, standing sink with no shelves or anything to hold necessities or soap, and a toilet with a broken seat. It’s half hanging off the bowl. If I sit on it in its current condition, I’ll surely cut my ass. That’s not high on my list of things to do today. Though neither was being taken by Scott.
“Bitch, hurry the fuck up in there!” he shouts as I hear his steps coming closer.
There isn’t even time to pull my phone from the never-ending bag I have. I’d never find it before he broke down the door. When he’s agitated, I don’t want to risk him hitting me. Eventually I know he’ll land hits on my body, I’m simply trying to bide my time until I can formulate some sort of plan to escape his madness.
Taking care of business, I quickly flush and wash my hands before leaving the relative safety of the small room. Scott is standing right outside the door as he takes in my appearance of leggings and one of Tags’ tee-shirts. I definitely didn’t dress to impress anyone today.
Pushing myself past the man I loathe, I’m unimpressed when he doesn’t move out of my way. My body brushes up against his and I have to hold in the bile threatening to escape. I have no clue what I ever saw in the man. Making my way back to the kitchen, I finish preparing his meal of hamburger helper since it’s all he has in the cupboards here.
Scott takes his place back on the couch as I continue making food. While his back is turned toward me, I take a few bites of the food. The hamburger is browned. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. Once I add the noodles, powder mix, and water, I put a lid on it so it will cook. With nothing more to do, I clean up my mess in the kitchen. I know if it’s not done Scott will bitch.
It doesn’t take long for the kitchen to look better than it did before I stepped foot on it. Grabbing a plate down, I take a few more bites of the hamburger helper before plating up Scott’s dinner. Knowing he’ll prefer a beer with his meal I grab one from the fridge and set it at the head of the table. His plate is the next to be placed at his seat.
“Let’s go,” Scott growls when I let him know his dinner is ready.
“W-W-Where?” I question him before I can stop myself.
Scott backhands me before I can blink or think to move out of his way. Pain explodes in my cheek as I reach for the area. He grabs a hold of my hair, pulling me to the only other door in the place. After flinging it open, I find we’re in a bedroom. There’s a small bed covered in dust, bars on the lone window in the room, and nothing else.
Scott leads me to the bed and a nasty smirk covers his face. He shoves me down on the ratty, old mattress and reaches behind him. Quicker than I anticipate, he handcuffs me to the frame of the bed. Trying to frantically pull my arm away from his bruising hold, I’m no match for his brute strength.
“I’ll be back,” he threatens before grabbing my bag and ripping it from me.
I watch as he tosses it to the other side of the room. Thankfully, nothing spills from it so he finds my phone. At least not yet. With nothing else to do, I close my eyes and let sleep claim me. He won’t be busy for long with dinner and then watching something on TV after he’s done. In some ways, he’s extremely predictable.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tags
WE’VE JUST MADE the drop. I’m preparing to get back on my bike when my phone goes off. I’ve got the sound on simply because of the feeling I still have in my gut. It’s only gotten worse over the hours. Worry and fear creep in as I see Satan’s name on my screen.
“Job is done. On our way back now,” I say in way of greeting.
“Don’t give a fuck about that. Need you here. Now. Pyro too,” he demands. “Don’t worry about the rest of the guys, just get the fuck back here.”
“What’s goin’ on?” I question, looking at Pyro who’s standing a few feet from me at his own bike.
“Not gettin’ into it over the phone,” he states, hanging up on me.
“Pyro, we gotta go. The rest of the guys are on their own. It’s not like they have to worry about bein’ pulled over now,” I inform him, straddling my bike while Pyro does the same as he senses my urgency.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I’m bettin’ it has to do with Victoria since he wouldn’t tell me over the phone. Demanded us back there immediately,” I reply, not waiting for him to start his bike as I pull out.
This is definitely not the normal situation. Pyro and I leave the other guys as we speed through the night. The streets are barren as night creeps into early morning. It’s a definite advantage for us as we don’t have to worry about getting through traffic in our hurry to get home.
Looking at my gas gauge, I notice I’m gonna have to fill up before too long. Signaling to Pyro, he nods his understanding as we signal our turn into the lone gas station on the road. It’s one of those twenty-four hour spots with pumps and a few things to eat inside. I’m not concerned with food at the moment. Only getting home to figure out what’s going on and if Victoria is okay.
“You talked to Torch or Lil’ Bit?” Pyro asks me as he pulls in at the pump next to me.
“No.”
Pulling out my phone, I try to call Victoria. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Looking at him, I see him watching me. I can feel the color draining from my face as I begin to tremble. Calling her repeatedly. Every single time it goes straight to voicemail. Not her sending me there by hitting reject call.
“Fuck!” I yell into the still night air.
I pump my gas while Pyro pulls to the pump behind me. Usually one of us goes right after the other and we take turns paying. Tonight, we’ll each pay for our own so we can get on the road. Something isn’t right and I have a feeling it’
s something to do with Victoria.
When we’re done, Pyro and I get back on the road. We’re breaking every traffic law of the road as we race back to the clubhouse. Personally, I don’t give a shit about what happens to me. My gut is absolutely churning so I know we need to get back. This is the worst I’ve ever felt in my life about a situation.
By the time we pull into the clubhouse it’s early morning. It’s eerily quiet as we park in our designated spots, shutting our bikes off. There’s no music, anyone outside, or any other sounds. We rush inside to find Torch, Pyro, and most every other member sitting around what’s left of the common room. It’s been destroyed.
The furniture is in shambles, couches are flipped over, bottles of liquor are smashed in piles on the floor around the room, and not a single person is talking. Normally, they’d all be sharing a drink and talking amongst themselves. None of that’s happening this morning. I can’t even blame it on the early morning hour because we’ve all pulled an all-nighter before.
“What’s goin’ on?” Pyro demands as he takes in the state of the room along with me.
Satan stands up along with Torch and several other brothers. They all walk over to us as we stand just inside the door. Grinder and Gunner come to stand behind Pyro and I. Now I know this isn’t gonna be good news at all. Especially when I look closely at Torch. His eyes are filled with pain, regret, and rage. He’s got a haunted look about his entire demeanor I haven’t ever seen before.
“She’s gone,” Torch finally breaks down in front of us.
I can feel the rage from Pyro as he stands next to me and process those two words his brother just stated. Not a single other person says a word as I also process what we’ve been told.
“The fuck?” Pyro finally growls out, pain lacing his voice more than normal. “Where did she get taken from?”
“Blazin’ Ink,” Satan informs us, looking from Pyro to me and back again.
“Where’s the Prospect who was with her?” I grind out, wanting to get a piece of the fucker.
When no one says anything, my heart races even faster. There’s only two reasons for none of them saying a word about him. The first is he’s a part of her going missing which I doubt. Or, he’s dead. He gave his life for my woman and now we have to bury him on top of finding her.
“He’s dead,” I state without any emotion filling my voice.
Right now, I’m too numb to feel anything. My thoughts are racing with everything we’ve learned since getting back. I have no idea where to begin our search or anything at this point.
“Anyone pull the footage from Blazin’ Ink?” Pyro asks, venom filling his voice.
“Already did,” Torch responds. “It’s not pretty at all. I’m not lettin’ either one of you watch that shit. I’ve also been at the computer checkin’ the footage through town. They left in the SUV from the club. The only one we don’t have a trackin’ device on. We know the general direction they left in but it’s really no help when they could be anywhere by now. She left early because the shop was dead. If I’d known, I would’ve been there to get her.”
“She called and asked me,” Satan speaks up. “I told her if everyone was done for the day and there hadn’t been any walk-ins for a while they were good to close up shop. Vic said she was gonna take care of a few things before leavin’ and she’d be on her way. I called Torch when an hour passed and no one had seen her. The first thing he did was pull up footage from the shop. Vic definitely played it smart. She went willingly with him because he had a gun to her head.”
I’m seething by now. Pyro, Torch, and I are the only ones who know how dire this situation truly is. Torch hasn’t spoken up about it. I know she doesn’t want anyone to know in case she loses the baby, but the situation has now changed. Now, everyone needs to know we need to bring her home alive no matter what the fuck happens. And we have to do it soon. Like yesterday soon.
“Torch, you didn’t fill anyone else in?” I question him.
“Not my place. It is your place though,” he states while keeping his eyes trained on me. “You won’t be betrayin’ her wishes if you let everyone else in on your news.”
Nodding my head, I take a few minutes to compose myself. I’m ready to lose my shit as thoughts and images of her swirl through my mind on a loop. Taking a deep breath, I look at the wall past everyone’s head. Tears and other emotions fill me as I realize what I may lose with my woman being taken from us.
“Victoria’s pregnant with my baby,” I inform everyone, my voice barely above a whisper. “She didn’t want anyone to know just yet because she’s already lost one baby. After everythin’ she’s been through, we were waitin’ to let everyone know. Torch and Pyro only found out first because that’s her blood.”
By now tears are coursing down my face and I don’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks. They can all call me a fucking pussy or whatever. It’s not their woman and unborn child out there in the hands of a damn madman. We have no clue who he’s truly working for or what his end game is. All we know is he wanted to get his hands on Victoria and he finally did.
“Fuck!” Satan roars, destroying a table so we have one less than what Torch already took out. “Everyone get a few hours of sleep. Church at nine in the mornin’. It’s already goin’ on five. We make a fuckin’ plan and head out as soon as everyone is on the same page. Not a single one of you is to go off half-cocked. We’ll make a solid plan so everyone is on the same page. Torch, Pyro, and Tags, I don’t want to lock you down, but I will if I have to.”
With that Satan turns away. He leaves the common room and heads to his room. If we’re having church in four hours from now, he’s not gonna go home to Raine only to turn back around. I don’t even know if the other ol’ ladies are here. At this point, I can’t find it in me to care about it either.
Looking around the room, I head to my own room. I’m not sure if I’ll get any sleep or not, but I can’t be out here where there’s so much destruction. Right now, I need to be alone with my thoughts. There are a ton of things floating through my mind and I won’t be able to sort it all out if I’m with anyone else.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Victoria
AFTER SCOTT ATE his dinner two nights ago, he came in and beat the shit out of me. He kept screaming and hollering about how horrible the food was. Asked if I was trying to kill him because nothing I ever make is good enough for him. When he was done beating on me, he stripped me bare before leaving me in the room alone. I’m still cuffed to the bed.
I’ve been freezing cold ever since. There isn’t a blanket on the bed I can cover myself with, let alone a sheet on the disgusting mattress. Even the mattress is horrible since every spring it has is poking my body, adding to the pain and torture. It’s all a part of Scott’s master plan to break me down so he can ‘train’ me as he sees fit. There are apparently big plans for me. I just can’t be filled in on them just yet. He’s waiting for the perfect time to let me know what is going to happen to me.
Scott expected me to clean the entire cabin, which he informed me belonged to his parents. It’s in his mother’s maiden name so even if the guys in the club do a search they probably won’t find it. I was also expected to cook him meals even if he can’t stand my cooking. It’s not like I have a ton of options of food to make him. When I brought up the need for him to go to the store, I got another beating.
By the second day we were here, he found my phone. Scott went through my bag and made sure it was off before he smashed it to smithereens. While he was ranting and raving about me messing up his plans, he completely missed the ultrasound picture I have of my unborn baby. As soon as he uncuffed me from the bed, I made a show of stretching, which killed, and stuffed everything back in my bag before he found that too. My only hope now is he doesn’t go through it again.
Despair is quickly filling me. When I’m not cleaning or cooking, I’m handcuffed to the bed. Scott won’t let me wear anything no matter what I’m doing. The only time I’m allowed t
o use the bathroom is when I’m not chained to the bed. Even moving around the small interior of the cabin I’m freezing every day. Nights are the worst though.
I have dreams of Tags, holding our baby in his arms while I’m not with them. It’s as if I’m watching them from beyond the grave. He’s talking to our little one as tears slide unchecked down his face. When I have these dreams, I wake up crying because I’m going to miss out on having Tags in my life and being a part of our child’s life. I can’t catch my breath from crying and being so pulled into grief and doubt.
I’ve also dreamed of my brothers. How miserable and filled with rage they are. Memories from our childhood when we were all together and happy fill my mind too. I dream and picture times when they were overbearing and thinking they were being protective instead of pains in my ass. These are also days I wake up filled with sadness, regret, and pain.
Every day my heart races because I never know what’s going to trigger Scott into another beating of me. I want to protect my child and make it out of here in one piece. I’m not sure that’s going to happen as each new day goes by.
My face is swollen not only from his beatings, but from the tears I cry when I think of everyone in my life I may not get to see again. I won’t be able to let them know I love them or how grateful I am for everything they’ve done for me through my life. If I get out of this by some miracle, I won’t ever take these situations for granted again. Everyone in my life will know how much I love them.
This morning I wake up and things are different. Instead of the room being completely empty, it’s filled with three different video cameras. They’re set up in different locations around the room. My eyes bulge out as I realize Scott is about to do something major to me. I’m not sure who the video will be sent to and I’m sure as hell not going to ask him either. When I ask questions, not only do I get answers I hate I also get another beating.
