by Brook Wilder
“Sorry, bitch. I’m not Pretty Boy. I won’t give you those big puppy-dog eyes of his and roll over like a god-damned weakling. I’ve got something else to give you, though.”
Melody’s eyes shot wide open and she found herself staring up at one of the gang members that had captured her the night before. His hands were already at the zipper of his jeans and she could read the terrible intention in his obsidian eyes.
After last night, she’d been sure she was out of fear. Sure that she couldn’t feel any more. That she had reached her capacity and all that she had left was numbness, but she was wrong.
Now, pure terror filled her, thick and greasy, like an oil slick inside her, soaking up the last of her hope, the last of her humanity, leaving only a wild animal, cornered and trembling.
Melody bared her teeth in a grimace of hatred. Fighting past the fear, past the panic and agony that threatened to shut down her body. She knew she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t give in. She had to fight. She had to fight as hard as she god-damned could.
Melody opened her mouth to scream, but he slapped a meaty hand over her mouth before any sound could escape. He leaned close and grinned. It was the most awful expression she’d ever seen before.
As the gang member leaned close, the dam inside her that had been holding the terror at bay finally shattered, taking the little bit of hope she had left with it.
Chapter 7
Christian glanced out of the kitchen window as the old coffee pot gurgled and frothed. He waited impatiently for the hot, caffeinated liquid to brew, tapping his foot anxiously on the faded linoleum tile as he did.
The early morning sun was just beginning to burn away the slight mist that had arisen overnight, but there was still a sheen of dew on the sparse grass. He knew it wouldn’t last long in the Texas summer heat.
Despite his best intentions, his gaze was drawn again and again to the old ramshackle barn across the property. In the harsh morning light, it looked even more run-down and dilapidated; they’d worked hard to made it look abandoned. Besides, it wasn’t the outside that held his attention. It was the treasure held inside that he couldn’t keep his thoughts off.
Melody.
He whispered her name to himself as he stared over at the old building. Melody. He wasn’t sure if it suited her. Melody made him think of someone soft and sighing, a gentle soul that didn’t make many waves.
Melody was none of those things.
Christian was good at reading people; he always had been. And he’d read Melody the night before. She was strong, stronger than he expected of someone who had been kidnapped by a notorious biker gang. She had fight and a spirit that called out to him. She was also broken.
He had seen it in her dark eyes. He’d seen it in the way she flinched away from him. She’d been hurt. Bad.
It made anger flush hot as a wildfire inside him. Just the thought that someone would hurt her, would cause her so much pain that she carried it around with her like an invisible cape. But it wasn’t invisible to him. He could see it as plain as the day outside.
He was just pouring himself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee when a voice startled him from behind.
“Now, what are you doing here so early, huh? Did you even go home last night?” Bianca said.
Christian nearly spilled the boiling liquid on himself as he turned to see her walking down the stairs.
“I, uh, I wanted to keep an eye on Bandit. His broken leg is still mending and I wanted to be close, just in case…”
Christian trailed off as he took in the knowing look in her dark eyes and the small sly smile curling her lips, still stained a deep maroon from her lipstick the night before.
“Hun, I don’t care if you stay at my house. Hell, your father is here more often than not.” Her smile turned suddenly serious. “But don’t lie to me. I can’t abide being lied to.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Christian said quickly, tipping his head at her differentially
Her leathery face broke out in another smile. She wasn’t what anyone would call beautiful; her olive skin showed every one of her fifty-five years, and they had been hard years, filled with drugs and alcohol and a tragedy that she never spoke of. But that smile made her absolutely radiant. So did the deep knowledge in her dark gaze.
Bianca was a waitress at a biker bar, but she’d worked there less and less as the years passed. Now she spent most of her days overlooking the safehouse and, Christian knew, helping to shelter battered and abused women before moving them on to a new location, with a new identity.
“Now tell me the truth. It’s the girl, isn’t it?” Bianca poured a cup of coffee, shaking her head as she sighed. “I heard the commotion last night, but Hub wouldn’t give me the details. Just said Enrique’s girl had been caught spying for the bastard and he’d locked her up in the barn while he decided what to do with her.”
Bianca turned and gave him a look, one thin brow arched high on her forehead.
“That’s about the truth of it,” Christian said. And, when Bianca’s look hardened, he hurried to continue. “This girl came wandering onto the property late last night, stumbling around, but…”
“But what, hun?”
“I don’t think Melody was here spying for Enrique. She didn’t seem… I mean, I don’t think she would…”
He saved himself by taking another sip of coffee and nearly spluttered as the hot liquid burned his tongue.
“Hm. Melody, huh?” Bianca said, a small smile playing on her lips again as she turned to go back upstairs. “Well, there’s more of that leftover chicken in the fridge and fresh bread in the pantry. The girl will probably need more water than what you gave her last night, too.”
Christian did choke on his coffee this time as he stared after Bianca in shock. How the hell did she know?
He was still shaking his head in wonder as he made his way outside, a plate of cold chicken in one hand and a bag of fresh dog food in the other. He hesitated, wondering where he should go first but decided to take care of the kennel first. Then he could spend as much time with Melody as he needed.
“Hey there, Bandit. How are you doing this morning?” Christian asked as he opened the cage door and walked in.
He was immediately greeted by a mass of wriggling pit bulls, barking and licking him in joy.
“Alright, hold on now. I’ve got enough for everybody.”
Christian quickly filled the dogs’ bowls with food and fresh water, before bending down to see Prince. He’d named the pup that because of the white markings on his head that looked like they were in the shape of a crown.
“Come here, boy. Let me see that paw of yours.”
He crept forward slowly, a little bit of Melody’s breakfast in his hands. He was hoping the bribe would work.
Prince stared at him warily for a long moment, before finally crawling forward enough to take the piece of cold chicken with his mouth.
While Prince was busy eating, Christian quickly changed the bandage on his broken leg, cleaning the wound and applying an anti-bacterial medication before re-wrapping it.
Prince cocked his head, looking deep into him with eyes that seemed to see and question everything. Then he leaned forward and gave Christian a single lick on his hand, before slinking back into the crate.
Christian held back a grin. It was progress. The most progress he’d made in days.
His celebration was interrupted by a loud sound coming from inside the barn. With one last look around the kennel, Christian shut the door and tilted his head, trying to listen for the sound again.
There it was. A scraping sort of sound and the clink of chains. He could easily picture Melody doing all kinds of harm to herself trying to get free. Hell, she had already cut-up the backs of both her hands the night before.
With a muttered curse, Christian rushed around to the front of the barn, pushed open the door and froze.
Hank, one of the members of the Devil’s that had found her the night before, was kneeling over
Melody. She was clawing at his face and arms, struggling as he ripped her dress. She couldn’t scream because the man’s hand was pressed tight over her mouth, silencing her.
Red hot rage, like Christian had never felt before, filled him with a violence that left him trembling. He was flying forward before he even realized.
His fist landed hard against the side of Hank’s face, sending the biker sliding across the floor.
“What the fuck!” Hank snarled, looking up at Christian as blood streamed from his broken nose. “What the fuck man! I found her first.”
“The hell you did!” Christian said.
Anger still fueled him, pushing him forward fearlessly as Hank stumbled to his feet.
“Shit, Pretty Boy, you can have her after I’m done. Now go away and let the adults have fun.”
Hank moved to shove Christian away, turning back to a terrified looking Melody, but he never got the chance. Christian grabbed a metal pipe that had been tossed carelessly to the ground and wielded it like a bat.
“I swear to god, if you don’t back away from her right now, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Christian glared at the other man and the smirk finally faded from Hank’s face, only to be replaced with a sneer of disgust and anger.
“You don’t have the guts. You’re just a scared little daddy’s boy. Why don’t you go play with your dogs? They can keep you company while this bitch keeps me company.”
Christian didn’t think. He just reacted. He swung the pipe, aiming for the back of Hank’s knees, and knocked the man’s legs out from under him.
Hank was just barreling towards him when the barn doors were flung open wide.
“What the fuck is going on here! You assholes are being so loud you woke me up, and you know how much I hate being bothered before ten.”
Hub was standing at the front of the barn, glaring at both men, but it was Hank who answered first.
“I was just out here having a little fun with our enemy’s chick when Christian comes shoving his nose in where it don’t belong and hitting me with a god-damned pipe!”
Hank shot out, as if he had been the victim. As if he hadn’t been about to rape a woman that was chained up and completely helpless.
Christian pulled back the pipe, about to let it swing again but Hub’s hand stopped it midair.
“Is that true?” his father asked, his eyes cold.
Christian could see the disappointment in them once again. This time, though, he didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck what anybody thought. He wasn’t about to let Melody get hurt again.
“Fuck yeah, it’s true.” Christian spit out the words, anger still radiating through his body like electricity.
“Why the hell would it matter to you?” Hub sneered. “Why do you care about this bitch so much?”
Common decency. She deserves better. She did nothing wrong. No one should be hurt like that.
Those thoughts all ran through his head in a split second, but Christian knew that, if he said any of them out loud, Hub would probably just drag him back to the house and let Hank do whatever he wanted to Melody. He couldn’t let that happen. So, he said the only thing his old man would understand.
“I want her.”
Hub gave him an appraising look, obviously surprised by his answer. Christian didn’t dare look over at Melody, not wanting to give himself away, but it was hard not to. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound since he’d burst through the doors.
“It would piss Enrique off, knowing she was with the Devil’s. He’d be god-damned infuriated,” Hub said with a sudden laugh. “Fine. She’s yours.”
“We should make it official.”
The words were out of Christian’s mouth before he could stop them, his crazy plan from the night before rushing to the forefront. But Hub just nodded.
“Good idea. Make it legally binding. That way he can’t do shit about it.” Hub clapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, boy. You’re getting married.”
Chapter 8
Melody was fairly certain she was in shock. She’d felt it a few other times in her life. When she’d found her mother’s dead body after she’d overdosed. The night she’d fled her uncle’s house. The night Enrique had held her down and tattooed his name on her skin, and after…
This felt different, though, somehow. She looked over at Christian as he stood in front of her, trying to shield her partially revealed body from the others. Her dress, not much to begin with, had been ripped from the neckline nearly all the way down to the bottom hem, and she held the scraps together with oddly steady fingers.
She knew Christian and Hub were talking. She knew it was important. She should probably listen, at least pay attention a little bit. But, at the moment, she was just so relieved at her rescue that she couldn’t keep her focus on anything else.
And then she heard the word ‘marriage’ and it was like an explosion going off in her mind. Melody tried to sit up. She tried to speak, but then Hub and the other gang member, the one that had attacked her, were leaving the barn and Christian was bending down beside her.
He didn’t look at her. That had panic fluttering inside her once more. Why wouldn’t he look at her?
A part of her was grateful as he unlocked the chains from her wrist and the heavy metal fell away to land with a loud clang on the barn floor. The other part of her wanted to scream and shout and demand answers, to make him tell her what the hell was going on.
“Come on,” he said gently, helping her unsteadily to her feet. “Let’s get you inside.”
Melody stared at him for a long moment, but he still wouldn’t meet her questioning gaze.
“Christian, I…”
“Come inside with me, Mel. Just let me take care of you this once.”
He huffed out and she didn’t know what surprised her more, the nickname or his offer to take care of her. No one took care of her. Once, she’d thought Enrique…
Melody cut off that painful thought. It was in the past now. This was her present and she just needed to get through it, one day, one hour at a time.
“That man,” she finally managed, still not taking a step. “Is he… will he be in there?”
Melody watched as a fierce anger lit his bright blue eyes like a beacon, and she was transfixed at the way it morphed him into someone else for a moment, someone who would fight for her, maybe even someone she could learn to trust one day.
Don’t be an idiot, Melody. No one will take care of you but you. Remember that.
“Hank is gone. I made sure of that. He won’t be around to bother you anymore.”
Christian’s voice was just as fierce as the look in his eyes.
Melody didn’t say another word as he led her from the barn and into the rundown old farmhouse that was tucked away between some overgrown shrubs and a gnarled, vine-covered tree that looked about as old as the buildings themselves.
But, inside, Melody was struck by how neat and orderly everything was. It wasn’t luxury; she knew what that felt like after living at Enrique’s mansion-like home for nearly a year. But it was something better.
It was tidy and personal, with a lived-in feel that made Melody relax a little bit more. She was surprised by the feminine touches that dotted the house. The knitted blanket thrown over the back of the couch. The paintings of wildflowers on the walls and the vase filled with fresh ones on the worn kitchen table.
“This is… your house?” Melody asked dubiously as she looked around.
Christian gave a small smile, shaking his head.
“No. This is Bianca’s place. I live just outside of Hightower, about forty-five minutes away.”
He kept moving as he answered her question, leading her up the stairs before disappearing through a doorway. He waved for her to follow and she hesitated before she heard a shower faucet kick on.
“Here’s a towel for you,” Christian said, pointing towards the bathroom. “The shower is a little finicky, so I got it started for you. Just give it a min
ute to heat up. Is there anything else you need? I’ll ask Bianca if you can borrow some clothes.”
His blue gaze dropped to the dress she was still holding together and the anger sparked for a minute, but he pulled it back, not letting it into his voice or his actions. She’d never seen anyone do that before. Most of the men she knew relished giving in to their rage, and it usually ended up with her black and blue.
“I… I don’t think so.” Melody shook her head. “Christian, earlier, with your father… what did you…?”
