by Vera Quinn
“She’s lucky to have you. I need you both to know that I am twenty years old and not a virgin. I’ve only been with one man and I thought we were in love.” I hear the pain in Charity’s voice. “If this has to happen then I give you permission to have sex with me. I don’t want you to have the thought of raping me on your conscious. I am giving you the go ahead to have sex with me. I want out of here and I will do my part to help.” Something strikes me odd about her being so blunt.
“Why would you give two strangers permission to have sex with you when it is not of your choice?” Rebel asks before I have a chance to.
“Just, please, don’t tell them I am not a virgin. I want to protect Faith. I know she is still innocent and she does have asthma and there is no way I would want her in this situation. I wouldn’t wish this hell on anyone. I have thought about this situation since that girl told me about it. The way I see it this is a control issue and violence. Violence against me and something to hang over the man that was put in your position. I am taking back my control the only way I know how and still make it look like I am cooperating, so Faith will be safe, I don’t want them using me to hurt anyone either” She is almost pleading but she has determination in her voice. Rebel grunts.
“It’s not going to get to that. How did your pop think he could keep your real age from the Hell Keeperz? They’ll get to your birth certificate, school records, or driver’s license.” Charity let’s a little laugh out.
“I was born at home so there are no birth records, only our family Bible. We were home schooled so no school records. No driver’s license or social security number.” I glance at Rebel and he has a raised eyebrow.
“Were you raised in a damn cult?” Rebel asks her.
“No, my pop is part of a militia group, of sorts. They are not religious formed, but we did have a church for those that wanted to attend. We did live in a commune, but it was like a small town without any government to stick their noses in. My pop is anti-government. He says from the day we are born the government starts assigning numbers to us, so they can track us through our life. When the children turn eighteen they each have the decision to make, to either leave the community or stay. We call our home the community. No capital letters. My pop said the place we live is just a place to live with no importance and the important thing is family. I would never leave Faith, ever. The ones who decide to leave cannot return. In our community the older siblings care of the younger ones and I have always protected my sister as if she was my own. Very few choose to leave and that is how they keep growing. We are expected to marry within the community and have children which adds to the numbers.” That took a lot out of Charity telling that part of her life. I have come across a few militia groups during my work as a bounty hunter. They hide their family and friends away. It’s always the laws fault they are out on bail and having to run. I argued with a member of one of groups when I was searching for a bail jumper a year or so ago. I just asked him what about the law the man had broken to get arrested and what about the money the person would be out if he wasn’t found. That man was hard headed and wouldn’t listen. It took me almost two weeks watching the place before the jumper made a trip to town. The man liked his white powder, alcohol, and easy women. A leopard does not change his spots for too long of a time. This time it was money and a vehicle that he had stolen from the militia. I had a sense of justice when I escorted the man to the sheriff’s office. Some militia people are sensible just as in any group of people, but it is the stubborn ones that give them a bad reputation. I don’t agree with some of their beliefs but there are other that I can accept. My job is my job and when I start a job I don’t walk away from it.
“What can you tell us about our surroundings here? Are we close to a town? I haven’t heard any traffic or any noise except for the bikes leaving. How about the windows are there any that are not boarded up? Is this a one story or two-story house?” Rebel is firing off questions at her. I look at Rebel trying to let him know he needs to slow down but then Charity starts answering.
“There is nothing around us except for an old barn and woods. We did not go through any towns after they took the blind fold off me. We were on county farm roads not highways. The last number was 1019. I don’t know how long we traveled with me blind folded, but I know we were close to a train track. We stopped for a few minutes and I heard the train whistle. The drive to this house is long. We are set way back off the road with heavy woods and brush on each side and it was a bumpy ride. This is a two-story house. The windows that I noticed, before I walked in the house, the upstairs are boarded up, but the boards are far apart so the sun shines in like here. At least the one in the hallway that looks outside. The ones downstairs are not boarded up, but I only saw the front part of the house. Right now, we are on the second floor and the third door. I was being kept downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, you go to the right up the hall and I was being kept in the second room. They let me in the kitchen to fix them sandwiches. In the second cabinet to the right there is all kind of spices but there is also a bottle of Trazodone. I know that drug will put you to sleep. My ma used to have the doctor get it for her. I was afraid to use it on them. I was hesitant because what if they didn’t all eat at the same time or others arrived later. I thought about taking it myself.” Charity’s voice gets lower as she talks, and things go quiet.
“You are doing good Charity, just focus a little longer. Everything you are telling us helps.” I try to give her something positive to think about.
“Were there any knifes or anything we could use as a weapon?” Rebel asks.
“Only butter knifes, a few forks and a few spoons as far as cutlery goes but there is a big cast iron skillet in there. I found some old hair pins in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Can you pick a lock? I know how but I am a couple of hands short right now.” Charity lets out a snort. “I’m sorry. That sounded awful, but I am a little nervous.” Rebel and I both laugh.
“Can you get the hairpins to us?” I ask her. It’s a long shot but we could try.
“I don’t know but I can try.” I watch as Charity tries to get the hair pins out of her hair with her hands zip tied. It takes a few minutes and I know her hands must be raw by now. “Got them. I’ll try to get my feet up here and see if I can get them to you.” Charity pushes her shoes off her feet and then pushes her socks off with her toes. Good thing this woman is limber. Charity rests for a minute and then she maneuvers her feet on each side of her head. My eyes are drawn straight to her rounded ass. I try to avert my eyes the way Rebel is doing, but my eyes are drawn back. I feel like a damn perv getting a sneak peek. Charity brings her legs down and she is winded. I see the hair pins pinched between her toes. “What do I do now? Will your chains let you move any at all?” I try to stand up for the first time since we have been conscious. The chains won’t let me stand completely up but I can crouch. Then I try my arms. I can reach about half way.
“Can you maneuver your legs in our direction?” Rebel asks Charity. Rebel is crouched now also. “Fling the pins our way.” Rebel and I both watch the pins as carefully as we can. We both get a hair pin and start trying to jimmy the locks with them.
“Is it working?” Charity asks us. I look at Rebel and he has his legs unchained. I started on my hands first and then I feel the tumbler give and my hands are free. I shake my wrist out to get some feeling in them again, and then start on my ankles. I notice that Rebel is free from his chains. He is trying to get circulation back in his legs and then he comes over and takes the hair pin from me. He has the lock open in no time.
“Yes, we are free. We’ll find something to get those zip ties off.” I tell Charity as I am looking for anything that can cut her hands free.
Chapter 3
Charity
“Yes, we are free. We’ll get something to get those zip ties off.” Brody tells me. I look from him to Rebel. I wish I could have met Brody under different circumstances. His eyes are drawing me in. There seems to be a connect
ion between us. I can tell he is a good man. His eyes tell me everything I need to know. My ma used to tell me that your eyes always tell the truth. It’s not as if I think that Brody couldn’t be a harsh man if it is called for, but his eyes have compassion in them and a warmth that I am sure I will never see or feel again. It could be it is because I have been confined to interacting with only the people that lived in our community. I have been to the town close to where I grew up but not for more than a couple hours at a time. Rebel and Brody are still searching but I know they need to get away from this house before the other men come back.
“Leave me behind. Just get out while you have the chance. Just, please, don’t forget to try and come back for me.” I will do anything to help Brody get out of here, even if it means my death. Both the men stop and look at me.
“We are not leaving you behind. We will all get out together.” Brody tells me. Rebel is searching his vest for something.
“Here it is.” Rebel is mashing something in the bottom of his vest.
“You have a tracker on you? Why haven’t they found us already then?” Brody ask Rebel.
“I couldn’t get to it. It only works when I apply pressure to it. The Hell Keeperz MC is still a bunch of slackers, if not, they would have taken my cut first thing to humiliate me.” Rebel tells us. Brody looks at him with a puzzled look on his face. Rebel shakes his head and then goes on. “Being the President of the Demented Revengers, it is not always a good thing letting everyone know where I am every minute. This is my compromise.”
“How long until they will be able to find us?” Brody asks Rebel. I listen, taking it all in.
“I don’t know but they have a lead now to find us, but I have no intention of hanging around and waiting.” Is Rebel’s response.
“Do they have any hand soap on the sink anywhere? I might can get my hands slick enough to slide them out. They aren’t as tight now. I think me wiggling my hands around loosened them a little.” Brody walks over by the sink and toilet. There’s a bottle of liquid soap on the basin. Brody grabs it and walk over by the bed and bends over it and slicks up my wrist. I start rubbing the soap under the zip ties. I hear Rebel urinating in the toilet and Brody stand so I don’t have to see Rebel. That is sweet of Brody. Rebel comes back to stand by the bed. I look at him. I am still trying to twist my hands out.
“Charity look the other way, so I can take a leak.” I shake my head yes and then avert my eyes to the other wall. My wrist is finally free of the zip ties but still tied by a rope. I put my hands out to Rebel and he has them untied in minutes. I have a little blood running down my hands from where I have opened cuts up again.
“Rub your wrist to get the circulation back in them.” Rebel tells me with concern in his voice.
“Thank you for helping me. I need to wash my hands and if you don’t mind turning your backs, so I can take care of my business.” I am staring at the wall but talking to Rebel. It’s embarrassing telling two men you barely know that you need to take care of your business. They both look the other direction. “What do we need to do next?” I ask as I make it to the toilet. I turn the water on.
“Don’t flush. They may hear it down stairs. In old houses, sometimes the pipes are loud.” Brody tells me. I shouldn’t be running the water, but I don’t hear any unusual noises. It is gross not flushing but I am not arguing if it gets us out of here.
“Do you remember if there were any squeaks in the stairs? We need to be prepared. Where is the closest door? Which direction do we go when we get downstairs?” Brody is firing questions at me.
“One thing at a time. Do you remember where there were any loud creaks or squeaks in the hall floor and stairs?” Rebel is right. I was getting overwhelmed. I sit on the bed and put my socks and shoes back on as I think.
“I was walking on my right-side walking up and there was a lot of noise, but the bikers walked in the middle of the stairs and I didn’t hear anything from beneath them, but it could have been our stairs creaked at the same time. Walking in the hall it was such a short distance I didn’t pay any attention. I was anxious about what was going to happen to me. The guard in the living room usually sits on the sofa or paces the floor. From the few times I was out of my room. The front door is in the living room. The back door is in the kitchen. No lock on it except for a slide lock. I don’t know anything about the other side of the door. I didn’t take the chance to look.” I close my eyes and try to remember. “Those are the only two doors that I know about. I was only brought out of the room they put me in to put something together for us to eat.” I hope that the information I am giving them is enough to help.
“Brody, we need to go downstairs and take the remaining Hell Keeperz down. There should only be three of them at most but be prepared for more and be careful. They may have some they are keeping out of sight. There should be two inside and one outside. We take the two inside down and take their weapons. The one outside we do together. Charity stay down and out of sight.” Rebel fires off his thoughts. I don’t want to be hit by a stray bullet but neither of these men have even asked me if I can defend myself.
“If they are not both in the living room, the ones that watched over me, most of the time, were sleeping in the room right beside mine. It’s the first door down the hall.” I tell the two of them. The thought of Rebel or Brody getting hurt is eating at me, but my eyes always stray back to Brody. He is one handsome man and he puts off an aura of confidence. He is the type of man that I have no right to be interested in. I am sure he is educated and has women falling all over him. I can’t compete with that. I am a plain jane every day woman. My facial features are alright, but I have curves. I am not a pencil thin woman. I like food, so I eat. I am muscular but not in a manly bulky way. I work every day either in the garden or our warehouse or I should say I did work every day. I have devoted my life to my family. Learning everything from my pop about our way of life. I get up and work all day to make my family’s life easier and then go home and sleep. What do I have to offer a man like Brody? Nothing but that does not stop me from dreaming of his hard-muscular body. The one man that I thought I could trust with my body back home made me feel ashamed and he told me no man would ever put a ring on my finger. I guess I had the last laugh because I never met a man, from our community, that I would let put a ring on my finger. In our community getting married meant you were taking another man besides your father that you were required to take orders from and in turn the male members of his family. I could never see myself as a woman who blindly followed the instructions of other people. Just because I am female does not mean that I do not have a brain.
“Charity stay behind us going down the stairs. No wait, this is too risky.” Brody looks torn. He walks over to the window and tries to get a look at something through the boards. “We don’t have a choice, that ledge out there looks rotten.” Brody looks at me and I feel weak in my knees. I need to get myself together. “Stay behind us Charity. We don’t want you hurt for helping us. Try to stay away from the places you remember creaking on the stairs.” Brody looks at me again. “Maybe you should just stay up here until we have the downstairs secure.” I roll my eyes and start to argue but Rebel speaks up.
“No. Brody we are all going together, and we will keep Charity safe. If one of those men get up here to Charity, then they have the upper hand.” Rebel looks at me. “Charity follow the instructions Brody gave you and be aware of what is going on and your surroundings and just maybe, we’ll all come out of this alive.”
“I agree with Rebel.” I speak up. I look at Brody and he is not happy with any of this, but he has a resigned look in his eyes.
“Then let’s quit talking about it and just do it.” I agree with Brody. Let’s do it.
“I’m going first and then Brody. Charity come right behind Brody and stay close. When we get to the bottom of the stairs stay put until one of says to move.” Rebel takes control of the situation. Rebel turns and goes to the door. He barely opens the door and looks ou
t to the hallway. He opens the door wider and steps out. Brody is close behind him and I follow. We quietly make our way down the stairs. My memory served me well. No creaks on this side of the stairs. We make our way down the stairs quickly. Once we are at the bottom of the stairs Rebel and Brody look around. I listen for any noises. Rebel raises his hand and motions for us to stay put. He sneaks over towards the living room and sneaks a look. He puts up one finger. Then I hear a snore coming from down the hall. I grab Brody’s arm and point down the hall and touch my ear, so Brody will know to listen. He nods his head. Rebel is watching us. Brody moves up the hall and stops at the first door. He puts his ear to the door and shakes his head affirmatively. Rebel puts up three fingers and then takes them down one at a time. When the last one is down they both move. I pray they are not hurt. I look up the hall and I can’t pull my eyes away from the door Brody entered. I forget to do what Rebel told me to.
“Well lookie who we have here. Thinking about skipping out on us.” I relax but I am filled with fear. Not for me but for Brody and Rebel. I don’t know which of the men this one is. Then a calm comes over me. I feel the gun poked in the back of my right shoulder. “Turn around and look at me.” I do what the man says. There is a loud noise coming out of the room Brody went into. It surprises the man with the gun on me and he lets his guard down for a moment and I take full advantage of it. I reach for the gun he is holding and hit the clip release. I lean my body to the right and with my left hand I pull the slide back and make sure the bullet releases from the chamber. I have practiced this move hundreds of times with my dad. The man grabs me by one arm, but I bring my knee up and with my other hand and slam his nose into my knee. I kick the clip away. It is all accuracy, balance, and weight leverage. I have been practicing hand to hand combat since I was old enough to practice moves and remember them. I step back from the man, but he is not giving up that easily. He tries to slam my face into the wall. It doesn’t work. As he is using his weight to try to slam my face into the wall. I let him have his move but right before my face hits the wall I bring my hands up and push off the wall and hook my leg and foot around his leg and take him to the floor. I am on top of him and slamming fist after fist into his face, his eyes and nose. I feel him hitting me as well as he can, but I feel nothing, and I see nothing but blood. I lose myself in destroying this man, but I am pulled off him.
