by Jaci J.
With each slow grind, I live and die a little more. With each hard roll of his hips, my resolve slips. My legs are sore and my body aches with need. This is what he is offering me, making it clear that he won’t give me what I want.
“Rampage, please,” I plead.
“What, baby,” his growls back, grinding harder into me. His grip tightens around my hips, his eyes taunting me, challenging me.
“Please give it to me.”
I’m a joke. Here I am feeling broken and rejected, yet I’m still begging him for whatever he’ll give me. I’m reduced to nothing.
“Please what, Lala. Give you my love?” He says as he slides slowly out of me. My thighs are wet and my body is empty.
“I don’t want your love, so just keep fucking me.” As those words leave my mouth, I feel a tear run down the side of my cheek.
“This,” He growls, “Is all you’re ever gonna get outta me, baby,” he pulls out of me and slowly drags the metal of his piercings over my clit. He’s a fucking asshole. He’s a fucking liar.
My back lifts off the wall when he finally shoves himself back inside of me, “Oh! Please, fuck me just like that.”
“Yeah, Lala. I’ll always fuck you just like that, baby.”
****
His naked back rests against the brick wall of his room. My leg is spread across his stomach, my chest is pressed against his, and my cheek lays on his shoulder, face tucked under his chin.
His large, rough hand runs up and down my back leisurely, fingers skimming my neck down to my ass, and slowly back up. The lights are out and the radio is soft and low as Studio plays.
The sweet fragrance of weed swims through the air. An exhale of air skims across my bare shoulder, causing goose bumps to form along my skin. Peeking up through my lashes, I see the blunt hanging between his lips as his head is laid back. His eyes are closed and his face is expressionless.
I’m probably fooling myself, but this is why I can’t believe that he doesn’t love me. He fucks me for not only his pleasure, but for mine, too. He holds me. He always holds me afterward, sometimes for hours. He keeps me close and he allows me to love him. I can’t believe he doesn’t see that this is love.
“I don’t believe you.” I whisper against his neck. He inhales deeply, but says nothing.
After he takes a few more hits from his joint, he finally says, “I fuckin’ know you don’t, baby.”
****
Neither one of us has brought it up, not that I ever expected him to. As much as it hurts, I know that there is nothing more to say about it, so I’ll let it go. He still treats me the same. I’m still on the back of his bike and in his bed every night, and that’s all I should expect. I’m not going to push for something he doesn’t want to give me, so that means that I’ll take whatever he’ll give me ‘til I can’t live with it anymore.
“Babe. Imma be gone for two days. You gonna be good?” No, but I don’t tell him that. He needs to go and I’m not going to be the one to stop him.
“Yep.”
“You stay with Lil, or her ‘n Ty will crash here. I’ll call ya when I can.” I just nod and watch him pull a white t-shirt over his head, looking at the small patch of scars that catch the light.
I watch as he slides on a black and white flannel, then lastly, throwing his cut over top of it. He sits down on the edge of the bed and slides on his boots. Looking over his shoulder, he cocks his brow, “You sure you’re gonna be straight?”
“Yes.”
It’s a goddamn lie. Good thing I’m a good liar.
“Alright. Imma gas up the bike ‘n shit. I’ll come back in before I roll out, okay?”
Again I just nod. I wonder if he could pack me up in a saddlebag and take me with him?
Standing in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher, I hear the back door open softly, and close just as quietly.
“That was fast,” I call out. Everything feels wrong the second those words leave my lips. I’ve been listening to Rampage come and go through these doors for over a year, long enough to know that Rampage is never quiet.
I should have known that this was coming. I should have fucking knew better than to think I would be safe anywhere. I should have run and never looked back. I finally let my guard down for once in my miserable life, and I fucked up.
Before I can bolt, a hand covers my mouth from behind and fingernails dig into my cheek. I’m pulled in to a hard chest by another hand holding a knife. The air leaves my lungs and I drop the plate in my hands to grab at his arms. My heart pounds in my ears as panic starts to take over.
“I got ya now, bitch,” Ryan growls in my ear. I smelled the alcohol on his breath before he uttered a word. I knew it was him. This is it. It all ends here.
I fight. I struggle. I try everything I can think of to get away, but with one massive punch to my side, Ryan knocks the air right out of me. The punch is so painful that my vision starts to blur. It’s been a long time since my body has had to endure this type of abuse, and I obviously wasn’t ready for it. The blow knocks the fight right out of me.
“Stop fuckin’ fightin’ me, you stupid fucking bitch!”
Tears begin spilling from my eyes. I wasn’t ready to lose this life I had, but it’s all being taken away from me now. I’ll never see Rampage again. I’ll never see my friends. I’m about to lose it all.
The cold metal of a blade rests against my neck in his silent threat, and I know how serious he is. Ryan starts to move us toward the door.
“Why, Ryan?” After so many years, why can’t he just let me be? Hasn’t he taken enough from me?
“It was always about what you took from me so I used you for the money I lost, but now, it’s not just for money, it’s for revenge. Your little punk ass boyfriend thought he could get rid of me? I’ve been watching, waiting for him to show his weakness, and you know what I found out? His weakness is you. I’m taking what he wants more than anything in this world because I want that fucker to suffer. So, you’re gonna come with me willingly.” He shoves the blade deeper into my skin to get his point across. All I can do is pray to God that he lets me go, or he just fucking kills me.
“You’re gonna come with me unless you want you’re pretty little brunette friend and her sweet little boy to bleed to death.” Oh God, what? Oh my fucking God. He can’t be talking about Lil and Ty, can he?
Shaking my head frantically, I try to get his hand off my mouth to tell him I’ll do whatever he wants.
“Yeah, thought that’d get your attention.”
“How.”
“His room is all cutesy. That little Harley blanket he sleeps with looks comfortable.”
Fuck. He’s not lying. Fuck. Choking out a sob, I give him a firm nod. I’ll do what he wants. “Good girl.”
The rumble of bikes catches him off guard. His body goes ridged and I know he’s starting to panic. Letting me go with a hard shove, he points the blade at me. His eyes are wild.
“You meet me in Heaven’s parking lot by six. If you don’t, I swear to you that that sweet little boy will be strung up like a pig and gutted while his pretty mommy watches. You fuckin’ hear me, cunt! SIX!” He screams, disappearing through the back door.
My body is wracked with panic as I kneel down on the floor to pick up the pieces of the glass from the plate. I never heard what happened to him, just assuming that Rampage took care of it that night. So, so stupid.
Heavy boots thud through the house to the kitchen. I try hard as fuck to hold it in and suck it up so he doesn’t know what’s happening.
“What the fuck, baby?” Big hands wrap around my arms, hauling me to my feet.
“Lala, what the fuck? Are you okay?” Before he can look at my face, I step into him and bury my face into his chest.
“I’m sorry. My hands were soapy and I dropped the plate.” I mumble, keeping my face firmly against him. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and I start to worry that he won’t believe me, but after a second, he nods.
“Oka
y, baby. You sure?” I nod again. I hold him as tight as I can. This will be the last time I ever see him, feel him, smell him. I want to remember every second of my time with him.
“Imma hit the road.” Kissing my forehead, he tries to give me one last look.
“Be safe,” I whisper as I pull away and turn to the sink, trying to hide the tears that just won’t stop spilling from my eyes. I wait a few moments and hear the front door open and close. He’s gone, and I’m left feeling such absolute hopelessness. Six o’clock. I knew all this was too good to be true, especially for someone like me. I don’t even care that Rampage doesn’t love me. At this point, I’m just so glad we had what we had, no matter what anyone would call it. It may have been nothing to him, but it sure as fuck was everything to me.
I run to the front window, watching as Rampage rides off without looking back.
Six o’clock.
18
Forever
Rampage
“How much longer is this shit gonna take?” Gin asks as he takes a drag from his smoke, kicking up a cloud of dust from the ground. We’re both leaning against a concrete barrier on the side of a dark and dusty highway, just outside of Idaho. It’s been a long ride.
Tank is on his phone, pacing back and forth, “A minute,” he mumbles around his phone.
We’ve been riding all goddamn day. It gave me too much time to think about how I left Lala. She was trying to hide it, but I saw her red, swollen eyes. I knew she had been crying, but I didn’t have the time to get into any emotional shit with her, so I just left her to deal with whatever it was by herself. I’m feeling like the biggest fucking asshole right now.
I’m pulling out a smoke when Tank’s angry bark catches my attention.
“Slow the fuck down, baby. What do you mean she’s fuckin’ gone?” Tank’s eyes cut to mine instantly.
Pulling the phone away from his ear, he shoves it at me and says, “try not to flip your shit ‘n listen to her.”
“Sis?” I can hear Peaches and Tags in the background, both sounding frantic. I swallow back the rage I’m starting to feel at the goddamn chaos on the phone.
“Rampage? Where would she go?” Sis breathes into the phone.
My worst fucking fear starts unfolding in front of me over a fucking phone on the side of a goddamn highway, hours from home. What does she mean where would she go?
“You better not be talking about Lala. She’s supposed to be with you.” Panic. That’s the only word for what I’m feeling. Sheer fucking panic.
“No! I don’t – I don’t know, Rampage. I don’t know where she is. I’ve called her, we’ve hit up anywhere she would possibly go. Her car, clothes, purse, money, everything, Rampage. It’s all here.” She rattles through the phone.
Shoving the phone back at Tank, I practically rip my saddlebag off my bike to get to my phone. Ringing Lala, I wait and pray for a fucking answer. I pray and try not to fucking lose it here on the side of this dark fucking highway in the desert.
“She left it here.” Lil says as she answers Lala’s phone.
She’s gone.
****
It’s all here. Everything. Every stitch of clothing she owns is in this closet, in the dressers. Her blankets are on our messy bed and the bed, even her towel from her shower is still damp on the bar in the bathroom. Shoes by the back door, coat on the kitchen chair, and her fucking purse is still on the counter. Nothing is gone…Only Lala.
“Where would she go?” Lil asks me, frantically pacing the driveway.
“Where the fuck do you think she went, Lil? She didn’t leave, she was taken.” Her eyes widen and she practically throws herself on Tank.
“Oh my God, this is all my fault. I should have come here earlier…” Tank looks over her head at me. He fucking knows. They all fucking know.
Pacing up and down the driveway, I feel crippled. I feel out of control and desperate. I can’t call her, I can’t track her. There is no note, nothing to lead us in any fucking direction. My world is shattering and there isn’t one goddamn thing I can do. Nothing!
Tags is in the house digging around, tearing shit apart. He’s running information from her phone and her computer, tracking everything from the last few weeks. He spent years in the Special Forces doing this shit. If there is anything to find, he’ll find it, but in my heart, I know there isn’t shit to find. This was not something she planned.
“Nothing, brother,” he says from the front porch.
I lose my shit like always. I black out. I let my pure fucking rage take over. I kick the fuck out of my bike. I want to kill Tags for having nothing to fucking tell me. I want to find Ryan, tear him apart, limb from limb and watch him burn alive. I shouldn’t have trusted the other MC to deal with him. I want someone to blame for this shit. I hate feeling like this. I fucking hate that I care. I hate that I let shit slip through my fingers. I let my rage go until I have nothing left.
Sliding to the ground on my ass, I start doing something stupid as fuck; I pray. It’s the only goddamn thing I can think of to do. I start praying and begging for her to be okay. She’s gone. She just walked out of the front door and disappeared, and I don’t believe she made the decision on her own. I can’t accept that. Lala is no longer in my life, and my worst goddamn fear starts playing out in front of me.
One year later. …
Lala
My bare feet stick to the peeling and cracked linoleum. The air conditioner whines and wheezes in the window that took me two broken butter knives and a flathead screwdriver to pry open. Pulling open the fridge, my body is hit with the cool air. God, that feels good. It’s so hot in here.
I’m not sure why I keep opening the fridge because there is nothing in there. There hasn’t been food in that fridge for at least a week. When there was, it was takeout and a box containing a severed finger. I didn’t ask because I really didn’t want to know. I would give just about anything right now for a measly slice of bread. My stomach growls at the thought.
I’ve learned to not think so much about Rampage and the life I used to have. Everyday has been a struggle because he is everywhere. He’s in my thoughts and my heart, but I keep my feelings locked up until I’m alone, which is only when I shower or sleep. I have one thing that drives me, and it’s that one thing that forces me to do anything I have to do to make it through each day. It’s an absolute necessity for me to make it through every day, no matter what I have to do to make it happen.
“Bitch! You got work in a few hours,” Ryan yells, sticking his head out of the bedroom door.
“How long do you intend to keep me here, doing this shit? I ask. He laughs. I guess my question is funny.
“Until your ass is dead.” He spits.
“Why? You have used me up to the point that no one cares to see me dance, amongst other things.” I don’t know why I ask, but today I’m feeling braver than usual. I’m stick thin now, and since I wasn’t Ryan’s meal ticket for dancing, I have been used in other ways to pay back my debt to him.
“You know cunt, you fuckin’ shot my goddamn dad in the head. I had that asshole wrapped around my finger, getting anything I ever wanted from him. He was my fuckin’ income, and you’re his replacement. Should of thought shit through before you ruined shit for me.”
I probably should have, but would I have let him rape me to not get this life? No. I’d do it all over again.
“Can I go outside?” I fucking hate that I have to ask. I may not be a child, but I am a fucking captive.
“Don’t go far.” He warns. I wouldn’t fucking dream of it.
Walking to the door, I look down at myself. I need a shower, but I’d much rather be dirty than have Ryan watch me or shower with me. I do everything I can to make myself disgusting to him and anyone else, but he doesn’t care how he gets me, just as long as he gets what he wants, when he wants it. My tank top sticks to my sweaty skin and my hair is a mess, but what’s new. My personal appearance is the least of my concerns. There are only two things
on this Earth I care about. One can’t see me, and the other doesn’t care what I look like.
Pushing the screen door open, it slams into the trailers metal siding with a bang. The big guy who guards this rat trap with the gun looks up at me.
“Just need some air,” I tell him. He nods his head once and rearranges his gun. Like I could miss the shotgun sitting across his lap. How could I not see the long barrel and mean stock? I know my poor cracked cheekbone remembers that wood handle.
“No leavin’ slut,” he warns.
During the year that I didn’t see Ryan, he was building himself a life in this shithole. He actually started up his own strip club, hiring dumb fucks with muscles to watch out for him and to make sure I never leave. The poor girls working for him are nothing but druggies, Ryan being their supplier. It’s sick and sad.
I’m guarded day and night by Ryan, or his two other goons, all of which carry guns with them at all times. I would have taken my chances by running and dying, but I had a very important thing that kept me here that I will never leave behind.
I have one rule here. No part of my body leaves this end of the trailer park. I guess it’s a trailer park. It’s honest to God out in the middle of nowhere, a good 30 minute drive or more away from any other civilization in any direction. I know this from the trips Ryan took me on when we got here. I think he did it to prove that no matter which way I ran, I would never make it before he got to me. There are six trailers here, and every inhabitant her either works for Ryan, or they owe him something. I have no hope of ever getting out of here alive, that’s for sure.
My altercation with Ryan last night has me sporting a broken wrist and a black eye today. No one in the place offers me a second glance, no matter how bad my beaten face and body look. We are just fucked and I’ve come to accept it.
I’m not sure where I’d go even if I did get away. I can’t go back to Washington, no matter how badly I ache for it. It would be the first place he would look, and he still holds the threat of hurting Lil and Ty over my head. He’d kill the most important people to me and I can’t take that chance.
