by K. J. Dahlen
It was only after her mother died when she was ten that her life went to hell. She’d known what being loved and cherished felt like when her mother had been alive and in one fleeting moment, she’d lost that feeling. As hard as she tried, she never found it again. The foster system was severely broken and she became one of the many who slipped through the cracks. She’d gone through six years of pure hell and the day she turned sixteen, she walked away from all the bullshit her life had been and made her own way in the world. Keeping herself hidden for the first two years had been hard but it was better than going back into the system.
Melora took a deep breath and blew it out. She didn’t waste time thinking about the past. It was over and done…she couldn’t change it. All she could do was pray and work for her future. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew deep down in her heart, she had turned those feelings of hope into something else. She’d become tired of hurting so she wouldn’t allow herself to feel at all. It was better that way. If she had no expectations, she never felt let down.
The air around her had cooled after the sun set and now it chilled her overheated skin. The sweat beading on her skin just five minutes ago, already dried on her face and she could feel her body cooling down. Flicking the cigarette away from her, she closed her eyes and rested for a moment before she went back to work.
When she heard the back door open, she groaned and ducked down behind the dumpster. She wasn’t quite ready to go back inside yet. She frowned when she heard sounds of a struggle and peeked over the top of the dumpster that partially hid her.
Her eyes widened when she saw the five men move away from the doorway. Four of them belonged to the local MC, The Ghosts of Dixie while the fifth was Baily Walker. The four Ghosts of Dixie men were Whiskey, Micah, Jonesy and a man they called Lightning. They were four men she wouldn’t want to run into alone that’s for sure.
Of the four Ghosts of Dixie men, her eyes widened as she saw the man they called Whiskey throw a punch hitting Baily in the stomach. When Baily doubled over Whiskey drew the big ass knife he always carried from the sheath under the back of his jacket. Whiskey was known around town for this knife, it was something he always carried, and unfortunately, he was known to use it. The knife looked huge and as he twirled it in his hand, Melora saw the light gleam off the wide steel blade. The handle was hand carved ebony bone with their club emblem carved on it.
Melora watched as the four men circled Baily and Whiskey moved in. They were yelling at Baily telling him his uncle couldn’t help him now. Baily tried to fight back but one man against four didn’t stand a chance. He did connect one punch against Jonesy.
Jonesy faltered a step but came right back. His fist hit Baily in the jaw and before he could drop to the ground, Whiskey grabbed his shirt and held him up.
For a brief second, Melora thought the fight was over then she saw a certain look come over Whiskey. Crazy entered his eyes and Melora knew it wasn’t going to end well for Baily. A look of pure rage passed across his features, the kind of rage only death could calm. It seemed as if someone else took him over as Whiskey’s hand shot forward and the knife embedded itself in Baily’s chest. Shock then severe pain could be seen on Baily’s face as he crumbled to his knees. Whiskey shoved Baily away from him.
Melora gasped softly as she saw Baily hit the street. Blood pooled under him as his shirt suddenly turned from blue to purple as blood poured from the wound on his chest.
Ducking down behind the dumpster, she prayed none of the men had seen or heard her. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest and echoed loudly in her ears.
“What the fuck did you do, man?’ Micah called out. Running his fingers through his hair as he stared at the body lying in front of him. “You weren’t supposed to kill him! Raven isn’t gonna like this. He warned us to beat some sense into him but not kill him. This little piece of shit owed him big money.”
“Shut up you moron.” Whiskey seethed. “Raven isn’t gonna know shit. As long as nobody here tells him, he won’t know the little shit is dead. We’ll take the body out of town and dump him in the woods. He won’t be found for months, if he’s found at all. Wild hogs have been known to visit those woods.”
“What are we gonna tell the boss?” Jonesy asked.
“We tell him we found him and passed along his message. He was alive and well the last we saw him,” Whiskey told them. He looked over at Micah. “Go get the truck. We’ll load him up and get the fuck out of here before anyone is the wiser.”
Melora slid down until she was crouching behind the dumpster. She didn’t want anyone to know she was there. Waiting until Micah backed the truck up to where Baily could be loaded into the truck bed, she watched as they got back in and took off.
She didn’t wait any longer. She opened the back door of the bar then headed into the break room, she took her bag and jacket and left. She wasn’t taking the chance of being discovered. She knew Whiskey wouldn’t hesitate to silence her if he was aware of what she’d just witnessed.
Melora then ducked into the bar and grabbed her tip bucket.
Gloria glared at her as she poured another beer from the tap but Melora didn’t care. She grabbed the bills in the bucket, stuffing them in her pocket she put the bucket back and left out the back door.
Running to her car, she got in and started the engine. Driving away, she sped through the near empty streets of Raleigh and made good time to her apartment.
The two bedroom apartment wasn’t in a very good part of town but that never bothered her before tonight. Hurriedly, she unlocked the door and rushed inside. Entering her room, she got her duffle bag and began throwing her clothes inside. Opening her closet, she grabbed a couple of wigs she had there and stuffed them in as well. Then she went to her bathroom, lifted the cover for the toilet tank and reached inside, grabbing the baggie she’d hidden there.
Then she went to the kitchen and opened her freezer. Moving a few items, she grabbed the black pouch under the ice cream and slammed the door shut. Then she went to the coffee table in the middle of her living room. Reaching underneath she pulled out the drawer and carefully pealed off the envelope she taped there. One thing life had taught her was to always be prepared. She’d learned this lesson well enough to survive. She didn’t dare even leave her roommate a note, the less she knew the better.
Pulling the duffle bag over her shoulder, she paused by the closet long enough to grab the smaller bag she’d packed already. Then without looking back, she left the place she called home for the last eighteen months.
She hoped her friend Izzy would understand her leaving but right now, she had no choice. Then it occurred to her she needed to make one more stop before she got the hell outta dodge.
~* * * *~
Two years later found her in the town of Troy, New York. She’d become so tired of the mess her life had become. When she left Raleigh, she thought she was getting away safely but that hadn’t been the case.
When Whiskey and the others came back to the bar Gloria asked them what happened in the alley. Everything went to hell after that.
When Melora called her a few days later, Gloria admitted the conversation with Whiskey. Gloria told her Whiskey was seriously pissed when he left. Gloria said she’d quit her job and was laying low until it blew over, whatever it was.
So, for the past two years Melora had been dodging Whiskey and his friends. Living in fear day after day, city after city. They’d almost found her in Charlotte and again, in Newport News. She’d barely gotten away from them in Dover and in Trenton. The last time they found her was six days ago in Boston.
She’d been working at a diner and was coming back from a bank run one afternoon. She’d parked her car in the back of the diner and walked through the back door when she heard Whiskey at the front counter asking about her. Keeping out of the hallway, she left the bank receipts on Herman’s desk and slipped out the back door. She drove away like the devil had been after her. In truth, he was. An hour
later, she called her old boss from a pay phone at a truck stop along the highway and quit her job.
Now she was in Troy, New York. She’d been here ever since, moving from place to place trying to keep out of trouble and still stay hidden.
Under the cover of darkness, she’d driven all over the city, searching for a place she could call home. She found an abandoned warehouse in the old part of town. Next door was a garage called Sin’s Bastards Custom Motorcycles and she watched all day as members of the local MC came and went.
Keeping out of sight during the day wasn’t a problem for her as she often left before the sun came up and stayed away until way after dark. She’d found several safe places to hang out during the daylight hours. One of them was a place called Redemption House. People came and went from there all day long. It was nothing for her to slip inside and watch the day to day comings and goings from there. At least there, she was out of the weather and could get something hot to eat. She’d been real careful not to be remembered and tried not to bring any attention to herself.
Then two days ago, something changed. She thought she heard the whine of Whiskey’s cycle. She didn’t know why but she could pick out the whine of his cycle over all the others she heard on a daily basis. It was almost as if it had its own sound that screamed, evil is here…Look out.
She looked around but couldn’t find it. Just to be safe she stayed in the warehouse, out of sight until she could determine if Whiskey had indeed found her yet again. She hadn’t heard his bike in a couple of days but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here.
CHAPTER ONE
Sam Tory rubbed the back of his neck and searched the area outside the shop. He kept getting the feeling of being watched for the last couple of days and it made him nervous. His eyes searched every nook and cranny but he didn’t see anything out of place.
He felt a shiver run down his spine and he didn’t enjoy it at all.
Sabbath stepped up to him. “What’s up, Bones?”
“I’m not sure,” Sam admitted. “Something’s off.”
“What are you talking about?”
Sam shrugged. “It’s maybe nothing.”
Sabbath stared at him for a minute then spoke, “You’ve always gone with your gut before, if something is telling you to watch your back, you need to watch your back.” Pausing, he asked, “Are we in danger?”
Sam shook his head. “No I don’t think so, I just have a feeling someone is watching us. I don’t feel on edge, not yet anyway.”
“I’ll let the others know…Maybe with more than one pair of eyes we can find out what’s going on.”
“Yeah all right, but I don’t want anyone panicking. We aren’t under siege here. Like I said, I don’t feel the danger but someone is watching. It’s weird.”
“I’ll let the others know. We’ve trusted your intuition all these years, no reason not to now.” Sabbath nodded and went back inside the shop.
Sam continued to stare at the area around the shop. He couldn’t see anything but he knew someone was out there, watching him from the shadows.
~* * * *~
Melora ducked back behind a column when his eyes came around to her building. She didn’t know why but she’d felt this man’s eyes on hers a couple of times.
He was a big guy, at least six foot four inches tall. His body was well built and he looked like he could move a mountain. His dark hair was a little on the long side as it hung down his back and was brushed away from his face caught up in a short ponytail.
He wore jeans and a t-shirt under an MC cut. He’d been too far away to see which MC he belonged to but it didn’t surprise Melora much. A lot of people she knew or had seen in the last few years were involved with motorcycle clubs. She didn’t know why but she had a feeling this guy just fit with an MC. He just seemed the type. Just her luck.
She moved deeper into the building while rubbing her arms. The damp musty air in the warehouse made her cold.
Going back to the area she’d been living in, she laid down on her sleeping bag. It’d been three days since she heard the whine of Whiskey’s pipes but she hadn’t seen him yet. Staying out of sight was getting harder and harder. She was tired of living with this fear day after day and the last two years were getting old. She was past the point of wanting her life back.
She heard her stomach growl. Groaning, she got to her feet and moved over to where her food stash was. Looking through what she had, she didn’t find anything she really wanted to eat. She gave up and went back to the window. Glancing over at the shop again, she noted no one was there.
Going to another window she searched for the older guy she’d seen watching her. She didn’t spot him, but she knew he was probably still there.
Gazing up at the sky, she noted it looked dark gray. It was late in the year and she knew she would have to find a warmer place if she was going to stay here for the winter. Snow would soon be a problem. Already, the nights were colder than she could stand. She really hated being cold. Hungry she could handle but cold? It seemed to settle deep in her bones and it was hard to get warmed up again.
She thought about moving over to Redemption House but she couldn’t afford anyone doing the paperwork. In order to remain anonymous she couldn’t leave any kind of paper trail behind. She shivered as a gust of cold air came in through a broken window just down from where she stood.
Melora went over to her stuff and hauled a coat out of the pile. Bringing it around her shoulders, she immediately felt warmer. Bringing her hands up to her mouth, she blew warm air on them. She hadn’t realized how chilled she was until now.
Wandering back over to the windows, she glanced back to the shop and watched as everyone left the parking lot. The last one out locked the doors and as the sun went down, everything around her fell quiet.
Melora decided to check the shop out. She hoped there would be facilities she could borrow for a shower and a hot meal. Grabbing her small bag, she left her warehouse and made her way across the distance. She went around to a back window and tried to slide the glass upward. Surprised the window actually moved, she quickly moved inside and slid the window closed.
Knowing she couldn’t turn the lights on she grabbed a small flashlight from her bag and flipped it on. Moving around the inside, she found herself in some kind of office. Not interested in the inner workings of a garage she quickly moved further into the belly of the shop.
The next room she came to looked like some sort of kitchenette and break room. She found a fridge, stove and microwave. Glancing into the fridge, she found some containers with food inside. Checking out the freezer section, she found several frozen pizzas and when she found them, her stomach growled. She hadn’t had a hot meal for a few days and a bubbling hot pizza in an even longer time.
Hoping no one minded, she grabbed one and turned the oven on. While the pizza baked, she continued with her search. She did find a full bath next door to the kitchen and she shivered as she dreamed of having a hot shower.
She didn’t care about anything else. She wasn’t here to steal or make any trouble. When the timer on the stove went off, she went back to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, Melora ate the last piece of the pizza and threw her garbage in the trash. The hot food filled her belly but also filled something else, something she hadn’t realized was low. It had given her almost a feeling of normalcy.
Checking the clock, she saw it was getting late. She grabbed her bag, then went back to the bathroom and quickly stripped her clothes off. Taking off the wig, she unbraided her natural hair and combed it out with her fingers. Her natural hair color was so pale it was almost silver and it flowed down her back almost to the floor. She had to hide it as the color and the length would have made her stick out of the norm. Not very many people knew what exactly she hid under all the wigs she wore and this suited Melora just fine.
Keeping her hair this long was a promise she’d made to her mother a very long time ago. She remembered being a child and
her mother was brushing her hair. Carla had always told her long hair was a woman’s glory. Her own hair was almost down to her hips and whenever she brushed her daughter’s hair she often told her, she had her daddy’s coloring. Her pale blonde almost white hair and violet eyes belonged to the man who donated the sperm that created her.
Melora felt more than a little mad at the man who helped create her and then left town but Carla told her that’s just the way he was. He hadn’t been ready to be a father yet and she wouldn’t trade her for all the world. Melora knew her mother loved her and while she only had her for a little while, she never forgot her.
So, Melora never cut her hair as a tribute to the woman who gave her life. She hid her glory from the rest of the world but that was her secret.
When she stepped under the warm spray, she moaned. The heat from the water partially thawed the solid ice her body had become. As she soaped her body and hair, Melora rushed through the pleasure of her shower. As much as she wished she didn’t have to hurry, she knew the men arrived early for work and she couldn’t take the chance at being caught.
Fifteen minutes later, Melora was braiding her hair again and hiding it under her dark colored wig. Cleaning up behind herself, she finally shut the lights off behind her and made her way to the back window. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d been there as it would defeat the purpose of her hiding out.
Peeking out into the night, she saw there was no one around. Sliding the glass pane up, she slipped out and closed the window behind her. She felt better than she had an hour ago but she also knew Whiskey might be out there waiting for her.
She didn’t know how he kept finding her as her trail had been one of necessity rather than planned but every time she stopped along the way, he’d been almost right behind her. She’d changed her vehicle three times now, worked just enough to keep her from starving and lived out of her vehicle instead of finding an apartment.
