Hard Roads

by Lily White

  “I’ve been hiding out here and there…mostly there.” Faking a friendly laugh, I didn’t want to give away what I was truly feeling at that moment. I was a fucking coward for leaving Holly behind and I knew it, the guilt eating into me faster than acid against the skin. But she wasn’t my problem and I kept repeating that fact in my head like a fucking mantra. I was too close to being done with this shit and a girl I’d only known for two days wasn’t worth giving that up.

  “Big John’s been looking for ya. Said you’d be rolling in around this time.”

  “Yeah? Where’s he at?”

  I started towards the house and Holland kept step at my side. “In his office, last I checked. Gunner and him have been in there all night pacing and shit. I don’t know who’s pissed them off, but I’d hate to be that poor bastard when they catch him. Hope it ain’t you.”

  Shifting the strap of the duffle bag on my shoulder, I shrugged. “It ain’t me.”

  Throwing one arm out in front of me, I hit the side of the door leading into the main bar area of the club. It was a large open room, the bar wrapped around the left side leading up to a makeshift stage area up front where three men sat playing guitar drinking and carrying on like nothing in life could ever bother them. Several of the brothers were already passed out drunk on couches and when I looked up at the second story, I saw several more carrying their particular bitch for the night to whatever room happened to be available. Not many of the brothers technically lived here, but considering they never seemed to leave unless it was for a run, most claimed a room as their own, leaving the smallest rooms open to be used as quick spots for drunken fucks.

  “It’s late, man. When we heard you were coming into town, a lot of ‘em tried to stay up to see you, but guess the alcohol and pussy got to ‘em first.” He elbowed me in the side. “You know how it is.”

  “Yeah…”

  “JD BROOKS! YOU BETTER GET YOUR UGLY ASS IN HERE RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND!”

  Holland and I turned in unison to see Big John standing in the doorway to his office, a grimace wrinkling up the lines of his face and a half empty bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. The guitars that had been softly playing in the background stopped just as Holland leaned over to whisper, “You sure it ain’t you they’re gunning for?”

  “Nah man.” Fist bumping him before I walked in Big John’s direction, I glanced at the stage to see the brothers duck their heads and start playing again. Big John moved just enough to allow me to enter the room and I locked eyes with Gunner as the door slammed shut behind me. Taking a seat in front of the scraped up wooden desk, I glanced at Gunner and noticed how his jaw ticked with anger.

  As soon as John took his seat, I leaned back, allowing the strap of the duffle bag to slip from my shoulder, the weight of the supplies thudding heavily against the floor. Keeping my eyes trained to the old bastard, I noticed how grey hair slipped from the loose ponytail at the back of his head. His black beard was streaked with grey and braided down into dreads from his chin.

  “Is that what Diablo gave you?”

  “Yep.”

  He nodded towards Gunner and the large man with the fucked up face stood up from his chair to grab the bag from the floor, taking it over to table near the front door. I could hear the zipper rip open and I knew he was surveying the load to ensure everything was there. John’s eyes peered over my shoulder at his V.P. and I assumed Gunner gave the all clear because those black-brown eyes locked with mine just before he nodded once. “Guess you’re done, kid.”

  “Am I?” My question confused him as much as it did me. Truth is, I should’ve stood up and left this shithole behind me without any further words, but the guilt and anger mixing lethally within my blood forced out a question that could tie me to this place longer than I’d intended.

  He didn’t even ask what I meant, just sat back waiting for me to continue. Big John had been good friends with my dad, the former Prez of this club, and he knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep my mouth shut if there was information I needed to know. I was just like my old man and that fact would most likely get me killed one day like it had him.

  “Holland tells me you two have been pissed off all night, pacing the office and shit. I’d like to know why. Is it about Holly or the brothers?” As soon as I spoke her name out loud, a stabbing pain ran through my mind. I should never have left her, but given the circumstances, what choice did I have?

  Liquor sloshed in the bottle as he brought it to his lips, his eyes trained on Gunner who, within seconds, had retaken his seat beside me. Gunner raised his legs up, placing his scuffed up boots on the surface of the desk, settling back in his chair as if we were doing nothing more than discussing the fucking weather. I hated that the fucker could be so relaxed considering everything that had gone down at Diablo’s earlier that day.

  After his throat worked down another quarter of the bottle, Big John pulled it from his face, slamming the glass container on top of the desk. “Not sure I like the fact that you’re still questioning me. I should be kicking your ass right now for the way you talked to me over the phone. Don’t be stupid and think that distance will keep you safe from me, kid.”

  I wanted information and if I kept with the attitude I wasn’t going to get it. “I apologize for overstepping, John, but I’d like to know what happened over there. How do you plan on getting the girl back?”

  “Ain’t my concern anymore and there is no getting her back. Shouldn’t be your concern either. She’s as good as dead.”

  My entire body tightened in my chair as fear shot through me so suddenly it made my head spin and blood pound behind my eyes. “What do you know? You got eyes in Diablo’s compound?”

  “Of course I do. I don’t do business with people I can’t watch. And what I know is that I can be expecting the bits of pieces of three brothers on my doorstep in the next couple of days.”

  I sat up, not able to stay relaxed given the information he was telling me. “And what are you going to do about it?” His words replaying in my head, I noticed an odd number and added, “What the fuck do you mean by three? When I left, the fucker only had Bandit and Bandana.”

  It was Gunner’s scratched up voice that responded. “Seems our narc is no longer a problem. Diablo took care of him as well.”

  Turning to face him, I caught his blood-shot eyes and asked, “Yeah, who’s that?”

  “Scooter.” This time it was John’s voice that broke the silence and I was getting whiplash looking between them. I wasn’t surprised it was Scooter. As soon as I’d heard the fucker disappeared after we took Holly, I knew he’d gone to get a fix somewhere. I just didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to go to the devil himself.

  John’s chair creaked when he sat back and propped his feet up opposite of where Gunner’s boots still rested on the surface. His deep voice grumbled out the story he’d heard, the effects of the Jim Beam he’d been guzzling weighing heavily on his words. “From what I know, all three of our men are dead, and the way they were killed was enough to leave Joker’s girl rocking and crying in a fucking corner. Asshole couldn’t even give me the specifics because it made him puke just thinking about it.”

  “Don’t need the specifics.” Gunner’s low voice growled throughout the room.

  My anger was fueled more with every word they spoke. I had to work to keep my voice calm as I asked, “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Pulling his feet from the desk, Big John sat forward. His chair creaked loudly and his arms thudded heavily against the desk as he looked at me. “Ain’t going to do a damn thing.” With a warning in the tone of his voice, his lips tightened into a thin line, damn near disappearing between his mustache and his beard. “And neither are you. You get me? There is too much fucking money tied up with Diablo and I’m not losing that for the club over the acts of three idiot bikers. ‘Sides, there isn’t a damn thing that can be done now. The brothers are dead and the girl is gone. After letting two of his guards have at her, he tied her n
aked body to a tree and left her staring at what remained of Bandit and Bandana.”

  He must have seen the absolute rage I was feeling written in my expression.

  “Don’t even think about it kid. Source told me a black van pulled up an hour or two later and she was gone after that.”

  “Who. Was Driving. The Van?” I had to force out each word with a painful hold over my voice. My body was shaking with seething anger, which made it impossible for me to speak without a shake to my voice.

  Seconds felt like hours as I waited for him to spill. If he didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear, I was prepared to fly over that fucking desk at him regardless if his psychopath V.P. was at my back. I was responsible for Holly being in Diablo’s hands in the first place. It didn’t matter that I’d taken her under orders.

  “Possibly some guy named Hector. I’m not exactly sure because I didn’t dig for information. She’s not my fucking problem, just like she’s not your fucking problem. No pussy is good enough to make a man do something stupid to get it. Hear me? You’re going to walk away from this office, take your shit and roll out to wherever the fuck it is that you’re going.”

  We stared at each other long and hard, the tension in the room as tight as my hands were gripped on the edge of John’s desk. I wanted to beat the motherfucker’s face in, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere except for six feet under the fucking ground.

  The tone of his next words told me the conversation was over. “Get your shit, JD, and get out. Debt’s paid and you owe this club nothin’.”

  Standing up from my chair, I knocked it to the ground with the force of my movement. I didn’t bother to look back at him or Gunner as my boots pounded their way to the door. As soon as I opened the fucking thing, I heard Big John’s voice call out across the room.

  “Leave your cut, kid, but if you ever get tired of being a normal fucking citizen, I’ll hang on to it for you. We have no issues.”

  I didn’t stop to respond to him, just hightailed it up to my fucking room to pack up what little shit I had. It all fit on my back and after swiping the keys to my bike from where they hung on the wall, I stormed out of the club. It felt like I hadn’t taken a breath until I was out in the cold night air, looking up at thousands of bright stars.

  When the crunch of my boots against gravel was met by the sound of another set of boots, I spun around to find Holland running up behind me.

  “Hey man? Everything okay?” He had honest concern behind his eyes and I let out a slow sigh, hating the fact that a good guy like him was involved in this bullshit life.

  He followed me all the way to my bike, his questioning expression only illuminated by the light of the moon. Settling myself on the seat, I breathed out the relief I felt knowing that I’d be riding out once and for all. Looking back at the kid who dedicated his life to the one thing I was desperate to escape, I gave him a sad smile.

  “You take care of yourself, Holland.”

  Turning the key, I closed my eyes to hear the engine come to life and purr beneath me and I pushed off the stand, waving to Holland as I kicked my bike into gear. King opened the gates as I tore through.

  With the cold air colliding against my face, I felt free again. It was just me, the road and a future that held whatever I fucking wanted, waiting for me at the end of wherever that road took me.

  Even with the freedom I finally had, the ability to walk away and leave everything in a crumbling heap of memory behind me, one face shone bright in my thoughts, her perfect features overshadowed by the nightmare that I knew she had no chance of escaping.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Holly

  My body was trembling against a dirty cement floor, my eyes open, but not really seeing the walls around me. Everything was white it seemed like, but it wasn’t clean. Stains marred the ceilings, the walls and the floors. Ugly brown splotches that looked like little bits of violence left behind in warning to the girls who didn’t do as they were told. The blood splatter and puddles couldn’t hide what had most likely happened here, to one or only god knows how many others that had been chained up just like me.

  I could have closed my eyes to the room, but it would only serve to deliver me back to that yard. In whatever time I had left, I couldn’t go back there, couldn’t remember the carnage that played out before my wide eyes.

  There was blood everywhere you looked, my memories turning it into small rivers that cut across the dirt lot, feeding the trees that had assisted Diablo in his inhuman acts. My hands had been covered in it and my palms were still stained pink when I was dragged to this new shithole. I didn’t want to look at my palms because I knew the reminder of violence would still color my skin.

  I hurt all over. My entire body was tight with terror when he’d thrown me to his dogs. My face scraped against the ground as my body was bent over and used, laughter filling the air, barely drowning out the grunt of the guard who fucked me. Still sore from Diablo, I’d screamed like a little bitch, granting them the pleasure of my pain, an object used for their entertainment. By the time the second crawled on top of me, I’d stopped screaming because my throat was shredded. He didn’t like it and after turning me over and spearing himself inside me, he’d wrapped his hands around my throat, choking me so that he could pretend that it was by his will alone that I didn’t make a sound. I thought I was dying then, but I didn’t. Instead, I woke up chained to a tree, the sun burning against my skin and blood dripping from my body.

  I used to think I knew what it was like to be a prisoner. I used to think I knew what it like to be used.

  All those years, I’d been fucking stupid to think that.

  Shit. Growing up where I had and going through what I went through, I was a damn fool to look at that life as rock bottom. It was fucking child’s play compared to the nightmare and monsters that haunted me the past two days. After what I’d just endured, I could look back on what I remembered to be a crappy fucking club, and even crappier brothers, and see them for the blessing they should have been. Sure, they fucked me when I let them and they laughed at me when I got angry about the next whore they bent over their bed, but they never hurt me. They never treated me like an animal that deserved to be beat just because it had tried to set itself free.

  No.

  Diablo had been the one to do that. I wouldn’t even call him a man because he was nothing more than a monster. There was no way that a single ounce of humanity could have existed inside him. The things he’d done to those bikers could never be committed by any person that was truly human.

  After fucking me in his room, tearing apart every orifice he could find and laughing when I cried, he’d dragged me out, his men coming behind us from where they’d been waiting at his bedroom door. Diablo held me by my hair and his men took my legs and I was carried through that house, flaunted and shown off to all of the ghosts that never seemed to leave the couches and chairs where I’d seen them before. Their vacant fucking eyes had followed my body through the room, nobody stepping up to help or reacting with even the slightest bit of disgust or shock.

  Normal day and another fucking bitch being butchered in the backyard, I guess.

  JD hadn’t been kidding when he’d told me to just stay quiet.

  The sun did me the favor of blinding me almost as soon as we stepped outside, so the only indication I had initially that we weren’t alone was the deep voice screaming and the sounds of metal hitting against metal. It was a loud twang of what sounded like iron against steel and it echoed over the vast space, an ominous beat that punctured the continual sound of the pain of a man.

  The sound grew louder as we approached and I was dumped on the ground, pebbles tearing the skin on my back and my head hitting sharp against a larger stone. I could hear my skull crack against the ground, dust flying up to burn into my eyes, forcing them closed to the scene that surrounded me.

  But Diablo wasn’t having that.

  Within seconds, his hand was gripped into my hair, the individual strands tearin
g away from my skin as he pulled me up into a seated position. I felt the tip of a blade press against my throat, a small trickle of blood running hot along my skin. “Open your fucking eyes, bitch.”

  Kicking out with my legs, I sucked in a desperate breath attempting to bring myself back to the room where I was now held, not wanting to return to the horror in Diablo’s compound. No matter how hard I tried, my thoughts kept traveling back, the images replaying continuously in my mind as if they’d been seared into my very being.

  When I’d opened my eyes in that empty field and blinked away the dirt, I saw the beginning of what would be the worst murders I’d ever witnessed. I’d seen men beaten, I’d seen men stabbed. Hell, I’d seen men gutted, raped and shot. What I hadn’t seen was men torn apart slowly and painfully, their own bikes used against them as a means to end their lives.

  “I tried to give you pleasure, but you had to fight didn’t you? Didn’t want to fucking listen and do what you were told. Now you’re going to find out what happens to stupid little cunts that don’t know their fucking place. Keep your eyes open, Holly, because if I see them close, you’ll die a slow death along with your fucking brothers.” The menace in his voice told me he’d snapped. Gone were the polite mannerisms of the man who’d first greeted us at the door of his home. The only thing left now was the bloodthirsty ramblings of a killer. “Won’t matter anyway, bitch. It wasn’t like I ever intended for you to stay.”

  Laughter, dark and cruel, rumbled out of his chest and with a snap of his fingers, I saw something that I would never be able to let go. The sound of wood creaking caught my attention first and I looked up to see something large hanging from a tree within 50 feet of me. The sun reflected off chrome before I could comprehend that what I was looking at was a bike. Attached to the frame of the bike were chains and those chains were pulled up and over a large branch of the tree. The bike had to have weighed 800 pounds at least and I couldn’t imagine how many men it had taken to lift it off the ground via the pulley system they’d created over the tree branch. On the other end of that chain were hooks from what I could tell, one end disappearing into the top of the black boots of a biker and reappearing out the bottom. If they had just been hooked through his bare feet, I’m sure the weight of the bike would have torn those hooks right out of him, but the strong leather of his shoes kept them in place, stretching his body up from where his forearms were staked into the ground with railroad ties or camping spikes. He was upside down and three men stood where his arms were attached to the ground, each one laughing as they kicked dirt into his eyes and wide open, screaming mouth.