Charity

by Davida Lynn

  He set something down on the bed—a yogurt cup, maybe? “You know, you could be a negotiator. Our guy is crap, but you can really lay it on thick. Do you really think I’m going to just let you go? Let you run off to that slut palace you call work? I won’t let you fornicate with those other whores, either. You need to stay with me. You need to let me help you find a better life.”

  Jason was deranged. It dripped from every word he spoke. I shook harder, even though I willed my body not to. I didn't want him to see my fear. He was right about the negotiator. I needed to keep feeding him shit until he was full up.

  “I know I do, Jason. I’ve wanted out of there since I started, but how can I pay for everything? No one would hire me.”

  “Shut the fuck up. Don't give me that bullshit.” Jason spat his words at me, “I told you. I know what you’re trying to do, so just drop the bullshit.”

  “What do you want?” I could feel another panic attack coming. My heart was speeding along; a train close to derailing.

  He smiled and seemed to calm a little bit. He sat at the edge of the bed. I pulled my legs up to my chest. “Why don't you tell me about your friend?”

  I froze, my eyes fully adjusted now. He was staring right at me. How long had Jason been watching me? Had he been there when Tanner and I had sex? I felt like my entire life was under surveillance.

  “What do you mean?” I tried to play dumb, but Jason wasn’t having any of it.

  “I told you,” Jason climbed over me on the bed, and I thought it would collapse, “to knock off the bullshit.”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry, Jason.” I could hear the trembling in my voice. I had never felt smaller. I didn't even care if he hurt me anymore. I didn’t think I could be hurt anymore.

  “I saw you with him, Charity.”

  I locked eyes with him. “My name isn’t Charity. You know my name. Say it.” The gravel was still in my voice, but it was coated in every drop of hate I could muster.

  Jason looked down at me, unsure of how to take my sudden strength. “Your name is Charity. It was Charity when we met. It’s just Charity.”

  He wasn't going to say it, so I would. I wanted him to know that he was obsessing over someone who didn’t even exist. Jason was stalking a character, and one that he thought was despicable, too. I needed to humanize myself.

  “My name is Jenny, Jason. Do you understand that? I’m Jenny. My pretend name is Charity.”

  “Don't fucking patronize me. Jesus. You always were a mouthy bitch.” Jason knelt over me on the bed. I tensed up, thinking he might hit me again. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your friend?”

  I shook my head. “He’s just someone from the club. I don’t really know him.” The sweat was darkening my clothes. I could feel the hints of a panic attack.

  “I do.” Jason smiled at me and recited from memory. “You know him as Tanner, which is just one of his AKAs. His real name is Zane Alexander, born March 13, 1983. He’s been in trouble with the law more times than I can count. B and E, grand theft auto, armed robbery, vehicular manslaughter, and attempted murder. Originally from Oklahoma, dragged his sorry ass to California first three years ago. A warrant sent him back, and once that was all cleared up, he came back about three months ago. You’d think with all those charges, he’d’ve seen the inside of a jail cell, but this fucker is Teflon. Nothing’s ever stuck. He was on parole for three months after a bar fight in Nevada, but he played nice until his time was up.”

  My mind swirled as Jason read me his rap sheet. I knew Tanner wasn’t an upstanding citizen. He was in with the Rising Sons, so it was just assumed that he did all the typical biker shit, but hearing it listed was a shock.

  Part of me was hurt that I had fallen for such a bad boy, but another part wasn't surprised at all. Even Jason was a bad boy, for a cop. Even though I hated the abuse he'd put me through, there was an element of his obsession that I had found appealing.

  “Yeah, I looked him up.” Jason’s eyes were wide. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't turn my head. “I know all about your little friend.”

  Jason had me scared. If he knew that much about Tanner—or Zane, I guess—I was afraid that he had done something to the biker. Jason thought he was beyond the law. I was trapped, and it could have been hours, or nearly a day since he’d cuffed me. Anything could have happened.

  I started crying. I hated it, but my strength was all gone. Jason had beaten me. “What are you going to do?”

  “Oh, I don't know. I could do anything. I could fuck him up. I could plant drugs or a murder weapon on him and come out looking like a hero.” Jason was crazy, and I should have stayed away. Alana and Ellen, everyone at the club—they were all right, but I didn’t listen. “I haven't thought that far ahead. You threw a wrench into my plans showing up here last night.”

  “I was scared of you.”

  “Charity,” I cringed hearing him continue to use that name, “why would you be scared of me?”

  I stared at him. I had no idea how to answer that question. One wrong word could push Jason over the edge, and I had no doubt he would hurt me. I had tried buttering him up with no good effect, so I tried lying. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like me anymore.”

  The tears were flowing, but they weren’t exactly genuine. I didn't care. I just needed him to believe me. “I was afraid you wouldn't love me.”

  “Oh, God, Charity. What were you thinking? I just want to take you out of that world, and it seems like I’ve driven you further into it.” He looked over my body. I had to play on his overprotective nature. I felt like I was making progress.

  Jason got up from the bed, running a finger across my wet cheek. It took everything i had not to twist my head away in revulsion. He headed around the bed to the door.

  “Where are you going?” I almost shrieked out the words. I was terrified at what Jason might do. He could go after Zane, Alana, or anyone else at the club.

  He barely turned over his shoulder. “Get some sleep.” The door slammed shut hard. I was back in the dark, more confused and scared than ever before.

  I cried until I fell back asleep. It didn’t feel like I’d been out for long when I woke to a crash. I was awake in an instant, staring at the door in front of me. I could hear the struggle. My heart hammered inside my chest. Tanner—or Zane—had come for me.

  I felt a renewed strength and pulled against the headboard. I had fight inside me again. My wrists bled and ached, but I didn’t care.

  “I’m in here! Help!” I screamed, hearing the rasp in my voice again. How long had I been out? The window didn’t give any hint. It was still dark.

  Glass broke, and I wondered if the large movie prints Jason had were the cause. The struggle sounded like it was farther away, maybe in the kitchen. I couldn't make out any voices until I heard a scream. It was a woman’s. Alana? Ellen? Heaven? I felt ill. My stomach was in knots. I couldn't do anything except listen and fear for the worst.

  The woman screamed again, and I heard Jason for the first time. “You fuckin’ bitch!”

  There was a thump, and another scream from her. A man let out a grunt, and I thought it was different than Jason. Was there another man in the house, too? Zane, maybe, but who was the woman?

  I found out in a hurry. The scuffle made its way closer to me, and I felt the wall shake when someone was thrown against it. My heart was in overdrive just hearing the fight.

  “Help me!” I cried again. There was no way they couldn't hear me. “I’m trapped!”

  No one responded. I felt like I was alone in a crowd. I was so close to being found, but it felt like no one was coming. What if Jason overpowered them? What if he arrested them, or worse? I shook from fear, and I was worried sick, but I heard a body slam into the door to the bedroom. The weight hit it a few more times, and I thought someone was trying to bash the door in.

  My eyes were open wide when the door finally gave in. Light blinded me, and I turned away.

  I could hear panting, but my eyes were still ad
justing. There was still a struggle going on outside the bedroom. Someone crashed into the wall, and I thought I could hear them slide down to the floor, but I couldn’t be sure. My heart was racing, and I felt more tears coming down my cheeks. I pulled against the handcuffs, feeling my skin scream with pain. Each movement was agony, but I was so near to freedom that I didn't care. I would have broken my hand to slide through the cuffs if it meant I was loose from Jason’s clutches.

  “Thank God. He’s had me trapped in here for hours. He’s a cop. I’m handcuffed to the bed. Please, please help me.” I could hear my voice warbling. I was finally going to be free. Someone had come to rescue me.

  I listened to the panting, and then the person who burst through the door spoke. “We gotta get the key. You sit tight.” Her voice was low and soft. I knew right away who it was, but I had to be sure. I had to confirm what my heart was telling me.

  Despite the pain, I opened my eyes to see a blonde in Zane’s vest standing next to me. My heart shattered. It was the woman I’d seen the night before in Zane’s living room. Whoever he was sleeping with, he’d brought her to help rescue me.

  I wanted to die. I would have rather stayed trapped in there forever.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I didn’t know I had those words inside me, but they came out anyway.

  She didn’t register my tone, but instead spun around to look back out the hallway. The fight was still raging outside. I heard punches being thrown. One after another, the blows landed. Grunts and groans floated up as the punches continued.

  The woman that I’d seen inside Zane’s house started to head back to the fight. “No!” I reached for her, my hands stopping cold and digging deeper into the metal. “Please. Please don’t leave.”

  “I need the key.” her voice was smooth, as if none of what was happening around her was dangerous. She turned around and ran back into the fray.

  “Busy. I’m fucking busy, woman!” Zane growled before his voice cut off into a choking sound.

  I heard Jason, sadistic laughter in his voice, “Never would have figured you for gettin’ jungle fever, Zane.” He laughed, but someone silenced the laugh with a hard hit. Jason let out a wheeze and groaned.

  The fight continued out of my view. I felt that twinge of anxiety, and I feared another panic attack, but when I heard things calm down, I fought the anxiety away. Someone was out of breath, and Jason spoke, his voice strained, “Assaulting an officer. Assault with a deadly weapon. Breaking and entering, Zane.”

  “Are you as good at shutting up as you are at lists?” Zane asked. I heard him send one more punch Jason’s way.

  “Keys to the handcuffs, Zane,” the blonde said, and the words irritated me more than the ring of raw skin around my wrists. How long had they been together? Long enough for her to know his real name. Why hadn’t Zane mentioned anything? Did she know about us?

  I chocked it up to biker culture, or something. Maybe sex was just currency in the biker world. Zane had played me from the beginning. Strong silent type? No, lies of omission. I just wanted to get uncuffed and get out of Jason’s house. I wanted a long, hot shower where I could scrub the last three months of my life away.

  “Handcuffs?” He was breathing heavily, but the fight had stopped. I didn’t hear anything from Jason.

  “Mmhm. He’s got your girl in there cuffed to the bed.”

  I heard drawers being shuffled through. Someone must have found the key, because the blonde came back into the bedroom. She had called me “his girl.” The last thing I needed was another layer of confusion.

  She must have seen the look on my face. “Hey, hey. We’re here to help.”

  The blonde reached over me. I saw blood and open wounds on her knuckles. She’d fought hard to save me. It made me feel even worse. This woman I didn't know had risked her life for me.

  As the woman reached up to undo my handcuffs, she saw my wrists. “Hey, Zane. She needs a med kit. The cop’s probably got one in the trunk of his car.” She turned back to me. “We’re gonna get you all fixed up, Jenny.”

  “I’m on it.” Zane said. I heard him walking back toward the door off of the kitchen. For a moment, I was terrified that Jason was left alone with the two of us, but I realized either he was tied up, unconscious, or worse.

  With a touch that was anything but gentle, the woman uncuffed me from the bed. I brought my arms forward, feeling the pain as I stretched them out and tried to loosen my joints. I was shaking, and I nearly burst into tears. The woman sat on the bed, turning my wrists over in her hands.

  She covered me with a sheet to stop the shivering. “We’re gonna take care of you—”

  “So you’re Zane’s girlfriend?” I cut her off. I probably sounded like a bitch, but I didn't care. Besides rescuing me, I had nothing else to do with Zane or his bikers.

  She laughed. It was harsh, like laughing at a child’s mistake. She turned away and covered her mouth. When she turned back, her face was straight again.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. No, I’m not Zane’s girlfriend. I’m pretty sure the state of California would have a problem with a brother and sister getting it on.”

  My mind was blank. I couldn’t wrap my head around what she had told me. Everything that had happened over the past day spun around me. I tried to hang on to any of it, but it wasn’t happening. The blonde’s words barely registered.

  Brother and sister? What I saw that night was just a brother and sister hanging out? But she had been wearing his vest. She was still wearing his vest.

  “But you’ve got Zane’s vest on?” I brought a hand up to my face and wiped the sweat from my brow. I was cold, sweating, confused, and still terrified that Jason would burst in.

  “No, sweetheart, I’ve got my vest on. This is the twenty-first century. Women can be bikers, too.” The look she gave was dryer than my throat.

  “Oh.” My brow was furrowed as I slowly processed what was happening. I probably looked dumber than hell, but I didn’t care.

  The blonde looked out the bedroom door. “You thought Zane and I were together? Oh, God, no thank you. Fuckin’ hilarious.” She laughed and picked up my pile of clothes from the floor. “He called me to tell me about some hot young thing that he’d found. When you didn’t show up to his place today, he started making some calls.”

  My stomach tightened, and a lump began to form at my throat. The blonde saw it, and she threw her arms around me and pulled me to her shoulder. The leather crinkled as the smell invaded my lungs. She wasn’t gentle, but it was better than nothing. It was comforting somehow, just like Zane’s had been.

  Through the sobs and pain I asked, “What day is it?”

  “It’s late Friday, almost four in the morning.” She started sorting out my clothes, but I couldn’t move.

  It had been more than a day since I’d foolishly come to Jason’s. For more than twenty-four hours, I’d been out of it. Whatever he dosed me with plus his punch had knocked me out for way longer than I’d thought. My tears fell harder than ever before. I felt like an even bigger idiot.

  If Jason had been willing to keep me locked up for more than a day, I don't think he had any intention of ever letting me go. The blonde handed me my bra, but my arms were too sore to put it on, so I just grabbed my shirt. My manners came back to me a little bit.

  “I’m Jenny,” I managed through sucking back snot.

  “Hi, Jenny. I’ve heard great things about you—well, about Charity. I’m Raven.” She leaned in. “My real name’s Sammy, but the club knows me as Raven, so keep your pretty mouth shut about that shit.”

  I had to laugh, even through the tears. She gave me a strange look, and I shook my head. “My club is the exact same way. Sorry, that’s just hilarious. I just learned Zane’s name last night.”