Sinful Duo: Lost Angels MC, page 13
“You owe me for a hell of a lot more than just those flowers.” I turn abruptly towards the man again, and finally realize my mistake. My stomach drops and twists.
“Axel,” it comes out as a whisper. My body freezes.
“That’s right sweetheart. Miss me?” he sneers at me, but thankfully doesn't need me to answer him. I'm still shocked he is here, “It took me a lot longer than I thought it would to find you. Even after torturing out what I could from that old neighbor we had. What’s her name? Not that it matters since she’s dead.” I can tell he’s watching me for my reaction, and despite the ache I have I am determined to not give him an inch. Though he is an outright bastard for involving her. After another second he continues, “I’ve been in deep for misplacing you.” He stalks closer, and my body stiffens, “Not to fucking mention having to explain that the greedy little bitch left with some of the club money I had earned fair and square. I am going to enjoy putting you to work in one of the sex rings to earn it back,” he looks me up and down, “Even if you’re only a certain man’s taste right now, but a few months in there, eating only what we give you, and that chub will fall off and the money will roll in.”
Sex ring?! Oh my God. When I caught them talking terms to trade some girls around, I honestly thought it was between their strip club in the neighboring town and the locally run one they had. I had no idea, and I just walked away not even thinking to bring it up to someone.
I take a step back instinctively when he moves closer. His twisted mouth sneers as he catches the movement, “You’ll not be getting away again.”
He lunges, on a squeal I jerk just in time to miss his body’s impact, though not fast enough as I try to get to my back door. His fingers grasp the back of my jacket, but this isn’t my first escape attempt. I let my arms fling behind me, and the jacket almost seamlessly slides off. Glancing back, I see the move only makes him stumble. The jacket is thrown to the floor as I fling myself over the couch. My eyes face forward, zeroing in on the handle of the broken latch, but when my hand grips and I try jerking it open it won’t budge.
Oh, no...my mind only has a second to realize the lock has been replaced. A fingernail breaks as I try and flip the new lock that hadn't been there before to get out. Relief swells as the door starts to open, right before I am slammed against the door, effectively shutting it, and taking the air from my lungs. Axel doesn’t wait for me to find my breath before he takes a handful of my newly cut hair and starts to drag me. My hands go up uselessly to try and pry him from his death grip. My legs kick out into the air. Tears start to run down my cheeks at the stinging pain. “Let go of me!” I scream, “Let go!”
He growls and twists my hair up so tight my body has no way but to follow the move and onto my knees. He spits in my face as he tells me to shut up. I have no idea where I get the courage if that’s what you would call it, stupidity maybe, but I spit right back. For a second there is nothing, his eyes actually grow larger in shock, but the expression is soon masked behind blind rage. His free hand comes up, as he jerks back to deliver a sound smack across my face. Even with his hand twisted in my hair, my face jerks slightly to the left.
He again doesn’t let me catch my breath before he has me pinned down on the ground. It takes me a few seconds to get my bearings again and wriggle to find a way from his grasp. I cry out as he yanks my arms behind me sharply. My body jerks as far back as I can manage, but I still when I hear a pop and the pain that floods me a second later. The scream morphs into a choked sob.
“Stop the squealing, pig,” he makes oinking and squealing noises as he pushes me further into the floor. Tears prick the back of my eyes. It's not enough to beat me, he has to make deeper digs into areas he can't physically touch too. He secures my hands together with what feels like zip ties. When he’s done, my head is smacked against the floor, “Now you’re coming with me, nice and quiet, got it?” He waits for my slight nod before grabbing my hair and then the inside of an arm. Somehow, he gets me to my feet.
He doesn’t bother shutting my door...my door, what a time I pick to finally claim that this is my home, and now I’m being forcefully taken from it. Acid builds in the pit of my stomach and turns with the anger I feel. Now out in the open, I may have the chance I need.
“Hey! What are you doing?!” Oh God...no. Brook! My head whips around to spot her in the middle of her front yard covered in dirt from her garden charging towards us, “Who the hell are you?”
Axel pulls a gun and I gasp. “Fuck off, this isn’t your business!” he shouts back, his grip tightening on my arm, and I wince in pain though I don’t try to struggle from him, that is until he points the gun at my temple, “If you don’t, I swear I’ll shoot.”
Something in his expression must have convinced her to stop her advance, but I can tell plainly on her face that she is conflicted. Fresh tears come to my eyes as I feel another thing click into place. I have real and true friends here. Something I haven’t had since the last time I left this place.
He walks us back towards the car parked by the curb. Reaching down he pulls the back door open.
“Mom?! Is there…” Axel jerks his head back up as well as his gun. Liam, Brook’s son, stands at the entrance of their front door, looking confused.
“NO!” Brook screams before moving to block Axel’s view. The gun goes off, but I have no idea what happens since I am hurled in the back of the car. I’m screaming to Brook, screaming to Liam, screaming at Axel as he jumps in and peels away from the curb with curses spilling from his own throat.
“What have you done?!” I screech at him.
“If you don’t shut up, you’re next.” He’s most likely bluffing since he probably has instructions to bring me back alive for questioning that will make me wish I were dead. Though I’m sure if he will keep his word if I push him too far. So instead, while I cry for my friend and her son, I try to find a way out of this situation I’ve found myself in.
I am pretty sure the binding is zip ties by how they feel on my skin, knowing a trick that I learned over the years, I know how to get out of them, the real issue is to first get up in a seated position. When he threw me in the car my upper body fell down into the floorboard behind his seat, and my lower half on the seat, my rear in the air. I am in a bad position, and my neck is starting to ache from the constant jostling impact of the road, and my left shoulder is screaming at me. I know it will be useless until I can get it popped back into place.
My foot goes searching, and I think I feel a hole just big enough to squeeze my foot into to give me a bit of leverage. I jam my foot into the hole and try to shimmy my way further onto the seat. In mid-shimmy, the car veers a hard right causing my body to lose its foothold from the door and my head to smash into the steel of his seat. I groan.
“What the fuck are you doing back there?!” When I say nothing, I can feel the car slow. A rough hand starts to push my midsection back onto the seat. There’s nothing I can do to help him. Not that I would think of making anything easy on him, yet I would do almost anything to get out of this horrid position.
With a few grunts, admittedly from the both of us, I’m now laying fully on the seat. My head aches and something wet is making a trail down my forehead into my hair. I know it’s not the time but...blood in the hair I just got done, Really?!
I’m itching to say something biting to Axel, but I need to concentrate while the car is still moving slow. I wince and almost cry out when I move my uninjured arm to use my elbow to sit up. Despite my best intentions, a gasp escapes my mouth as my dislocated arm rests too firmly against the back of the seat.
Axel looks in the rearview mirror and his eyes widen as I look back at him, but before he can say a thing, I ask my own question, “Why are you doing this?” The blood from my head drips down and soaks into my eyebrow.
His own brows crush down and leave his eyes in little slits, “You know exactly why. You heard too much, and you know what happens to those that we don’t trust.”
“I haven't told anyone anything! Don’t you think the police would have raided you by now if I had?”
He snorts, “You trust the pigs just as much as we do.” I give my own snort and look down to shake my head, using it as a diversion to move closer to the door. It’s barely an inch, but this needs to be as smooth as possible for it to work. Though the blood from my head now drips down and onto the back of my eyelid. Thankfully as I look back up it glides to the corner of my eye, but now the dam in the eyebrow is broken. It won’t be stopping the flow from here on out, let's hope it stays on its current course or I’ll only have one eye and one arm. What a sight I am.
“Maybe so, but I wouldn’t think to call them twice if that had been my prerogative. Though the point I’m making is if I had told someone don’t you think they would have called them by now?”
“I’m not stupid, I know whose territory you were in when I found you. The Lost Angels have just as much to hide as we do, they wouldn’t call even if they wanted to.”
“Alright fine, then why does it matter?” Though I know what the Lost Angels are really like, they might have their hand in some pies, but nothing illegal, “if no one is going to tattle then what is the point of bringing me back?” I inch even closer to the door.
“The Lost Angels could think they have something over our heads for one, thinking they might get in the game, or try and steal it. We’ve prepared for that, part of that is stealing you. The other reason, my most personal reason is you thought it was a good idea to run from me...I’m going to show you how wrong of a decision it was. I haven’t told anyone back at the club that I’ve found you yet and I’m going to keep it that way until I’ve taught you some fucking manners, and I’m going to enjoy every sweet painful second of it.” The smile that consumes his lips is one I’ve only seen a few times. It’s the one I’ve seen him wear right before he does something despicably violent. I’ve never seen it directed at me, and I hope I am not around to see him follow through on a threat I know he won’t blink at following through on, “Now shut that smutty mouth or we’ll pull over now and start our time together earlier than I expected.” I turn my head as bile rises in my throat at seeing him adjust himself in his jeans.
When the upset of my stomach calms enough to where I can focus again, I take in my surroundings. We’re still in a somewhat suburban area, but there are a few businesses amidst the homes. I will have to time this just right.
My moment comes when we start to slow for a red light, the corner gas station beckons me with its few patrons already out in the open. My goal is the actual station with the threat of a phone and plenty of witnesses, most likely a camera to record the whole scene.
I ready myself by getting my fingers wrapped around the handle, I have no doubt my face is showing the pain I feel, but I need timing to be on my side. I check again to be sure the lock isn’t enabled, and right as the light turns green, I shove the door open and dive out onto the street.
“Hey!” I hear him shout, but it is drowned out by the horn of the car that I rammed myself into on my way out of the back seat. I stand as best I can and start to run towards the station. More honking comes from behind me, but I am so focused on the direction that I don’t hear the footsteps coming up behind me. I am yanked from behind and pulled against Axel’s hard body. I kick out, and I make contact with something though nothing important from the lack of response. I try again and start using my words.
“Get off me! Help! Someone help me!”
I’ve been in a similar position once or twice and they are right in the movies. Most people just stand, gawking at the scene playing out in front of them, and you are lucky if one person stands in against your oppressor. I see no one ready to do just that, so I slam my head right into his face as hard as I can.
I gasp in relief when he releases me, and I fall to the ground. I fumble for too long but manage to get up and start running again. I make it into the parking lot and jump over the dividers that the pumps sit on headed straight towards the door.
“Fucking bitch!” I hear Axel shout though it seems garbled, not that I care. There's a shot that goes off behind me and my pace quickens, and I zig erratically trying to make myself an impossible target, but let's be honest I’m not built to be invisible. Another comes and this time there is a sharp pain in my shoulder, it shocks me for longer than I need when I cry out at impact, but I keep on my feet as I bite my lip and continue to run.
I thank whoever is watching over me that the door is already open. Looks to be the employee of the station, he’s holding a gun and it is trained behind me. I glide past him, and once I’m in he shuts the door and locks it. I hear a smash against the glass of the door and some muffled screeching, but I can hardly hear it over the pounding in my ears. My heart is beating so fast that as I find the farthest wall, I slump against it trying to find my breath. Axel is behind the glass with a sneer on his lips, making words in this state I don't quite understand, but I can read ‘you're dead’ from the curve of his lips as he says it.
“Get out of here or I’ll call the cops...yeah, fuck you too, buddy!” I hear the clerk yell through the glass to Axel.
The clerk is suddenly there, and the flinch is automatic. “Sorry…” I start to say but he waves me off.
“I would have gone out to help sooner, but can’t leave the station,” his green eyes seem genuinely regretful, “Now let's untie you and then see what we need to do after that. Okay?” I look past him and see that he’s turned off the open sign and the parking lot has mostly cleared out. Axel seems to be long gone.
“Yes please.” I finally look at his face and give him a soft smile.
“Alright,” he holsters his gun, and takes out a box cutter, “Turn around then.”
I do as asked quickly, ready to get out of these ties. With my arm out of its socket I just couldn't manage it on my own as I found out. The relief is painful, but I’d rather be unbound.
“He clipped you pretty good. I’m going to have to take a better look. That arm will also need to be popped back into place.”
“How do you know?”
“I was an ER doctor once upon a time.” He rips the hole wider where the burning in my shoulder is ever present, “Thankfully there is an exit wound and no major vessels seem to be involved.”
I look down, and the front of my shirt below my left shoulder is stained with blood. I hadn't even noticed. “How did you end up here?” I ask conversationally.
“Manslaughter, lost my license, so I can’t go back to my old life, but never lost the hang of it,” he says as if people ask him all the time. “Alright, I’ll be right back. Going to get the first-aid kit. Sit down and eat…” he picks up some chocolate, “this and when I get back, we’ll take care of that hole and that…” He grabs hold of my left arm braces against my shoulder and I scream as a loud pop echoes in my ears, “never mind. Just the hole then.”
He chuckles under his breath at the scowl I’m sure I am wielding towards his back as he moves away. I watch him until he disappears because I am still angry, but no time is a good to have a shoulder put back into place. I look out to the lot and no one is there anymore, not even gawkers. I am grateful though I have no doubt the police are on their way here. Now I just have to decide if I want to be here when they do arrive.
“Okay so we don’t have much as supplies go, but I’ll do what I can for you,” he states as he sets the kit on the counter and walks over to pull down that side of my shirt off my shoulder. “Looks like I may just have enough to get it covered up, but maybe not your forehead.” He peels the hair stuck there off to see the spot, “it doesn’t look too bad, head injuries are always deceiving.”
“Did you call the police?”
His mouth turns down, “No, but I probably should have. Though with my history they may think I had something to do with this,” he turns to grab whatever supplies he needs, but waves me over, “it’ll save me the trip and I won't have to ask you to hold anything against your skin, which I doubt you want to do with that shoulder anyways.”
“Definitely not,” I walk over but sway a little on my feet. He catches my elbow to keep me on my feet.
“You alright? You don’t seem to have lost that much blood overall.”
“I’m fine,” and it’s true once. I stand still my head clears.
“So you want to talk about it?” he asks as he cleans my shoulder.
“Crazy ex-boyfriend.”
“Shit, I’d say.”
I tense as the sirens start in the distance.
“Don’t like the cops either, huh?”
“You could say that,” I reason.
“Well, being one that doesn’t have the best experience with them, I would suggest you slip out the back, but the doctor in me says I should patch you up first. It’s your choice though,” and for what it seems like several minutes I do nothing, he does nothing as he awaits to see what I decide. Though I know the doctor side of him is right, I sway when I walk a few steps, I am in bloody clothing, and no way would be passed on the street as normal. Even if I left right now, I’m sure to only have them show up wherever I tried to make a night for myself. As if he knew what I had decided he continued to patch me up.
The cops show up as he’s setting the last bandage on my forehead. Turns out there were enough supplies. They of course were suspicious to find the gas station locked, an ex-con and myself in my state, until I tried to explain it without giving the Scavengers any more reason to want to kill me. Which at this point is getting hard. I promise myself when I get back home, I smile when I think of that little house as mine, that I will talk to Ric and tell him the truth.
“You’re telling me that bonk on your head is rendering you incapable of even giving the name of your attacker, yet he’s a previous ex-boyfriend according to the clerk?” the detective asks again with the face of complete annoyance. I want to laugh since his annoyed face looks as if he’s been sucking on the sourest of lemons for at least an hour. I am about to start using really small words for the detective, but it seems someone is going to save both of us from that pleasure.
