Korrupted Angels

by Geri Glenn

  Fear crawls its way up my throat as I choke on his disgusting bandana. I try to hit him but he easily traps my hands on either side of my head.

  “This can go one of two ways; I can treat you nice or I can treat you like the whore I believe you are.”

  He releases one of my hands and reaches up under my skirt, ripping my underwear down. I claw at his face, digging my nails into whatever flesh I can make contact with. When his fist lands against my jaw, the back of my head bounces off the mirror and I see stars. I can feel his hands as he struggles to undo his belt and then I’m falling, face first onto the linoleum floor. Vaguely, I think it’s not as clean as I thought it was. Next thing I know I’m on my feet, the bandana is out of my mouth and I’m staring into kind dark eyes, not green ones.

  “Veronica? Baby? You with me?”

  “Gear?”

  “Yeah, can you support yourself?” Gear asks. Absently I nod my head. His hands release me and no sooner does he move away before I fall flat on my ass. “Fuck. Sorry, baby, going to leave you there for just a minute.”

  I watch as he reaches down and drags a body from the building. I look down at myself and realize my skirt is hitched up, my underwear is gone and my head hurts. Moving forward I position myself on my hands and knees then pull my skirt down. Rising up onto my knees, I grip the vanity and pull myself to my feet. Through the shattered glass of the mirror, I take in my appearance. My hair's falling out of its bun, I have a fat lip and a bruise already forming on my cheek. I tentatively touch the back of my head and when I look, I have blood on my fingertips. Groaning, I turn on the faucet to splash my face.

  “You okay?” asks Gear.

  I shake my head. If I speak right now, tears will spill over and I’m not sure that I could stop them once they start. I glance into the broken mirror and lock eyes with him. He’s angry, both hands balled into fists. Gear reaches over, grabs some paper towel and hands it to me. Turning around, he winces at my face.

  “That bad?” I whisper.

  “No, baby, you’re perfect but that looks like it hurts,” Gear whispers back.

  I drop my eyes to the floor, only to find he repositions himself in my line of sight. He’s bending at the knees trying not to touch me.

  “Veronica, we need to get out of here before someone comes looking for you or that piece of shit.” I nod at him, take a step and stumble. “Okay, let me help? I’m going to put my arm around your waist.”

  He’s gentle, treating me like I’m fragile. I am not fragile but my god-dammed legs won’t work properly. Under sufferance I nod.

  “I think I need to get checked out.” My voice sounds alien to me, not like my normal confident self.

  “Does your rock star have a doctor on call?”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t want them to know. Surely there’s someone else?”

  Gear places me against a wall, and reaches behind me loosening my hair. It falls around my shoulders in loose waves.

  “For now, we can keep it under wraps but you are in the Savage Angels camp, they’re going to want to know who did this. They’re going to want blood.”

  I look into his caring eyes and nod. “I know, but not yet. I need to have my game face on.”

  Gear chuckles. “Professional bitch face is more like it.”

  Grateful that he understands, I smile but the movement causes pain to shoot across my face, groaning, I lightly touch my lips. Gear pulls my hands away to examine me. His fingers press on my jaw and I pull away from him. He scowls at me and continues to probe my face and the back of my head.

  “Ouch!” I exclaim, slapping his hands away.

  “Nothing’s broken. I had to check, otherwise I’d be taking you to the hospital, like it or not.”

  I narrow my eyes at him and push off the wall, he quickly puts an arm around me and guides me out of the building.

  Seven

  Gear

  That motherfucker. I want nothing more than to go back there and rip his tiny fucking dick off but the pained whimpers coming from Veronica, and the pale color of her skin has me rushing her off to my tent.

  I wasn’t following her exactly when I’d seen that son of a bitch go into the ladies’ room. I’d been following him. I was on my way to the restrooms myself when I’d seen Veronica go in. He’d been creeping along behind her, drunkenly swaying with every step. I’d have gotten to her sooner if the fucker hadn’t locked the damn door.

  “I think I’m okay,” she says, pulling herself out of the circle of my arm.

  “Jesus, woman. You’re so fuckin’ stubborn.” I place my hand on her arm as she stumbles a little and pull her back to my side for support. “How ‘bout you just shut your mouth and let me help you, yeah?”

  It’s a fucking miracle that she doesn’t argue, and it actually worries me more. I know she’d said she didn’t want the Angel’s to know yet, but Veronica needs medical attention. I’m no medical professional, but even I can tell she’s in rough shape.

  It takes us a few minutes to maneuver back to our campsite and I unzip the tent with one hand, while holding onto Veronica to prevent her from falling. As soon as I get the flap open, I lower her inside, and lay her down on my bedroll. Not exactly the fanciest of digs, but it’s the best I can do in a pinch.

  “You lay here and relax, baby. I’m gonna go get some help.”

  “No,” she cries, her voice weak. “I don’t –”

  “I’m not gonna tell them, Veronica. But I am going to get a second opinion on that head bump.” I don’t give her another chance to argue. As fast as I can, I run through the trees until I come out in the Kings of Korruption camp. Reaper is the first man I see, and thankfully the one I’m looking for.

  “Reap! I need your help.”

  He raises a brow at me, but he doesn’t ask questions. Reaper was once a medic in the Canadian army and now serves as a stand in doc for those of us in the club that get hurt one way or another. He’s a good man to know when you have a beautiful woman who’s wounded and about to pass out in your shitty little tent.

  I lead him to the tent and give him the Cliff’s Notes version along the way. He doesn’t say a word, but I feel the air turn with his pissed off rage when I tell him she was almost raped. Reaper ducks inside the small tent, but there’s no room for me, so I stay outside. I hear him talking to her, but the words are low and I can’t make them out.

  Five minutes later, he exits and comes to stand beside me. “You kill that fucker?”

  I shake my head. “Didn’t have time. She was in rough shape. I saw his patch though, and I know where his camp is. I knocked the son of a bitch out, but I know where to find him.”

  He nods and glances through the trees at the Savage Angel’s camp. “You need to take it to them.”

  I know I do, but I don’t want to. I want to deal with him on my own. “I know. I will. Just want to tend to Veronica first.”

  Reaper nods again. “She’s okay. Just a nasty goose egg on her head and a few cuts and scrapes. I don’t see any signs of concussion, but don’t let her sleep for a while. Take care of her, yeah?”

  After he leaves, I crouch down and peer inside. Veronica is sitting up, scrolling through her phone like someone hadn’t just tried to rape her not thirty minutes ago. “Give me that shit,” I growl, snatching it from her hand.

  “Gear!” she cries. “I was answering an important email!”

  “Fuck your email, woman. You were just attacked. You can give yourself an hour to recuperate for fuck’s sake.”

  Veronica’s blue eyes flash with anger, and even though I know she’s trying to look intimidating, it’s cute as hell. My answering grin just pisses her off more, and she lets out a little huff as she folds her arms angrily across her chest. “You’re an asshole.”

  I chuckle. “Not denyin’ that, sweetheart, but this asshole is takin’ care of you at the moment. Now move the fuck over. I’m here to keep your ass awake.”

  Eight

  Veronica

&nbs
p; Unbelievable! He took my phone. I scoot over as far as I can to allow him some room in this tiny two-man tent, scowling at him as I do. His answering grin only angers me further.

  “You are very annoying,” I mutter as he sits way too close to me.

  “It’s all part of my fucking charm. Reaper said you’re going to be okay but we need to tell the Savage Angels what happened to you.”

  I know he’s right but I do not want to be perceived as some damsel in distress who can’t look after herself. Unfortunately, in this instance it happens to be true. I let myself fall back and sigh.

  “What a mess. I don’t want or need them going after some drunk fuckwad to protect my honor.”

  “It’s more than that. If they’re anything like us, it’s a family, a way of life and we protect our own. And if that fucking asshole is prepared to do that to you, knowing you’re involved with the Savage Angels, what the fuck would he do to some other woman who’s not affiliated? He needs to be put down like the rabid fucking dog he is.”

  “Okay, okay.” Tentatively I touch the back of my head. “Ow. I need a shower and I need to handle this with care. I don’t want it turning into a media frenzy.”

  “You’re worried about the press?” asks Gear with genuine surprise in his voice.

  “Yes! The Grinders are an international band. I can’t have anything blowing back on them.”

  “Woman, you are fucking incredible. I get you’ve got a job to do, but you got attacked, not The-fucking-Grinders.”

  I nod. “It’s the way the business works. I need to keep this under wraps.” I look at him and smile. “Did I thank you? Cause if I didn’t, thank you.” I sit up and lean in to kiss his cheek, when I pull back he’s staring at my mouth.

  “You didn’t,” he says, a deep rumble in his voice. “But I’ll take that … for now.”

  His reaction confuses me and now I feel awkward.

  “I think I should go. I really want a shower,” I say as he continues to stare at my mouth.

  Gear shakes his head, looks me in the eyes and says, “Not without me. You got showers on those buses or you going back to the communal block?”

  “There’s no way in hell I’m going back there. There’s showers on the buses.” I begin to stand and Gear reaches out and touches my arm.

  “Let me go out first and help you to your feet.”

  I give him a small smile as he scrambles from the tent. Crawling out, I raise up onto my knees, and he reaches down and helps me the rest of the way out.

  “Thank you,” I say as I straighten my skirt.

  Gear reaches down and touches my face, tilting it up. “How’s the lip feel?”

  Reaching up I grab his hand and look him in the eyes. “Sore but I’m sure it’s nothing makeup can’t fix.”

  The barest of smiles goes across his face and he grasps my hand firmly and leads me toward the Savage Angels encampment.

  We’re almost to the bus where all my belongings are when Dirt comes into view. He takes one look at my face, claps a giant hand down on Jonas, who’s right next to him, and strides toward us.

  “Oh crap,” I mutter as I put myself before Gear.

  Dirt approaches me, eyes blazing, reaches up and grabs my face with one hand and then everything happens so fast I don’t have time to do anything but stand there with my mouth wide open. Gear grabs his hand and pushes him backward. Dirt stumbles back just as Jonas tackles Gear from behind, knocking me on my ass in the process.

  Fists are thrown and the three of them are scuffling around on the ground in a heap of leather and muscle. “Stop!” I yell angrily as I get to my feet. All three men freeze and stare up at me. “This!” I say pointing to my face. “Has nothing to do with him! Gear saved me!”

  Dirt stares at me for a minute before finally standing, offering a hand to Gear, who takes a moment but then grabs it and stands. Jonas grins up at me then slowly gets to his feet.

  Gear looks from me to Dirt and a look of understanding comes over his face. I sigh and push my hair away from my face.

  “I do not want this to be blown out of proportion,” I state firmly.

  Dirt looks at me then to Gear. “What happened?”

  “A dirt bag followed her into the ladies and tried to fuckin’ rape her. She didn’t want to cause a problem, so she asked me to keep it from you. I see now, that was a fucking mistake,” replies Gear.

  “You fucking think so? What if this was one of yours?” asks Jonas, his hands bunched in fists at his sides.

  “Man, I get you, but the lady wanted some time to re-group. I had one of my brothers check her out. He’s an ex-army medic. Reaper said she’s fine but shouldn’t sleep for a while.”

  “You will not talk about me like I’m not here,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Dirt completely ignores me. “You know where this fucker is?”

  Gear nods. “I know which MC he’s with and where they’re camped.”

  “Hello! Still here!” I yell and all eyes come to me.

  “What the fuck is going on?” asks a deep voice from behind me.

  When I turn around, Dane is standing behind me, his hands on his hips. He takes one look at my face and lets out a growl of fury aimed right at Gear.

  Jonas moves in front of Gear and says, “Be calm, brother. He wasn’t the one who did it but he knows where we can find the fucker.”

  Dane’s chest heaves as he takes in my face. “Jesus,” he mutters. “You okay?”

  His concern is both touching and annoying. I love that he’s worried for me, but I just want this whole ordeal to go away. “I’m fine. I need a shower and some clean clothes. I don’t need anyone to do anything on my behalf. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

  “That’s why you told us Gear saved you?” asks Dirt.

  I purse my lips and glare at him. Gear grabs my arm and gives me a squeeze, wordlessly telling me to keep quiet. “How about we let the lady clean up? Then we can talk.”

  “Deal,” replies Dane, his voice firm.

  Gear nods at him and leads me toward the bus. “I can walk on my own!”

  “Baby, I know you can, but I’m in unfamiliar territory, so until I have more of my own kind here, you are stuck with me.”

  That shuts me up. Freaking bikers and their politics. I step up into the bus with Gear right behind me and continue toward the back where my sleeping quarters are.

  “There’s alcohol in that cupboard and glasses above it,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Could you pour me a whiskey?”

  “Not sure that’s such a great idea,” says Gear as he looks at his surroundings.

  “Just a small one. I’m going to shower, make yourself at home.”

  He nods as I close the door between us, giving myself the alone time I need so badly. Gingerly, I strip off my clothes and step into the shower. I spend extra time washing my hair, getting the blood out and letting the warm water wash over me. I fight back the memory of that greasy bastard’s hands on me as I wash the smell of him from my skin. I won’t let him get into my head.

  Knowing I’m about to run out of hot water, and finally feeling cleansed, I dry off, and slide on my bathrobe. Then I open the door, sit on the bed and dry my hair with a towel.