Chapter 8
Harley
I rushed out of the cellar, feeling my heart racing maniacally in my chest. I shouldn’t have told him my name, I shouldn’t have said anything. I fed him because that was the least I could do for another human being, but I should have kept my mouth shut.
What overcame me to give him my name? The last thing I should have been doing was trusting him. No matter how hot and charming he was. Ultimately, he was the Hell’s Drifters’ prisoner. Caesar’s prisoner.
At the door, Carlos was waiting for me and he looked enraged. He grabbed me by my elbow before I could rush past him. He yanked me close to himself and I gasped.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, bitch?” he hissed. His face was close to mine. I was shuddering in his grip. Despite knowing that I used to be with Caesar, that I had a kid with him—none of the guys of the MC treated me with any respect. Caesar had set the trend of abuse and instilling fear in me and the others followed his lead.
“I…I…I gave him the food,” I said, squeaking, fumbling with my words. He could hit me, slap me around, bruise me. And I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. His fingers on my arm became tighter.
“You were in there for ten minutes. That’s how long it takes you to put a tray down?” he growled. I looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t do anything more.
“I…he…I fed him the sandwich. His…hands…they are cuffed to a pipe. He…couldn’t eat,” I murmured. Carlos’ nostrils were flared. He was looking me over like I was a big juicy steak on his dinner plate. Then, just when I was about to give up, he released me.
“Fine. Whatever. Go over to the main room before I whoop your ass,” he said and now there was a laugh in his voice. My fear was funny to him. He was enjoying watching me cower like that. I wanted to burst into tears.
I moved away from him and nodded. I wanted nothing more right now than to be back home with Amanda in my arms. She was the only thing that could make me feel better about myself. I had managed to create this wonderful little girl.
I headed towards the main room as Carlos instructed me. My mind drifted to Dash, chained up in that stinky cold cellar. I felt stupid now, feeling sorry for myself—what was he going through? They must have beaten him really hard for the past two days. The way he wolfed down the food and water made me realize he’d been starving and thirsty all this while.
These people were monsters! No matter what Dash had done, he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Not even an animal deserved to be treated like that!
I entered the main room, with Dash still on my mind and I saw Caesar, sitting on the big black couch.
***
Caesar had a big grin on his face and I knew he had been drinking. When was he not drinking?
“There you are!” he exclaimed and patted the seat next to him on the couch. I gulped but I walked towards him. What other choice did I have? I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that eight years ago, I had fallen for this guy. Granted, I was just seventeen and I was attracted to his bad-boy macho appeal, but what else was it?
Not even for a day had he made me feel safe or loved or appreciated. How foolish was I?
I sat down beside him and he wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me closer to himself. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, it was beginning to make me sick.
“It’s nice having you around,” he hissed menacingly, while I tried not to gag or cry. Every time he was close to me, I was filled with fear. Caesar was unpredictable, dangerous and violent. I could never know for sure what he would do next. Without instigation, he could slap me for looking at him wrong. Nothing I did could ever be right.
While he held me close to himself, he placed a hand on my knee. It was covered in grime from the cellar floor when I was kneeling on it earlier. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice or ask me questions. Slowly, he was moving his hand up my knee and thigh.
I had to do everything in my power to not push him away. Any act of disobedience on my part would be met with violence. I had learnt that the hard way. And after seven years of this torture, I should have gotten used to him and his behavior but I hadn’t. I still lived in constant fear of him.
Every morning I woke up and wished he would die. A thought that scared me because I would never have wished harm on another human being.
Caesar was touching me now. I could sense what was on his mind. He was in the mood to fuck me and when he wanted it, there was nothing in the world that would change his mind.
My body froze as I waited for him to take the next step. To rip my clothes apart and take me right there on the couch. I could feel a cry rising up in my throat. How much more of this was I supposed to endure?
Could I run away somewhere with Amanda? But he would find me. Where could I go? I didn’t have any savings or support.
But before Caesar could do anything else, we were interrupted. Carlos had stepped into the room and suddenly I was afraid he was going to complain about me.
***
Carlos grinned when he came into the room. He knew what was about to happen here if he hadn’t walked in.
“What?” Caesar snapped at him and reluctantly took his hand away from my leg. I straightened myself up, pressing my legs together in the hopes that he would forget about it.
I was fearful again. If Carlos ratted on me; that I’d been feeding the prisoner, I had no clue how Caesar would react to that.
“Just sayin’, she saw him,” Carlos said, standing at the door with his feet parted and a gun jutting out of his belt. I was sitting up, with my back straight, beginning to perspire.
“Him? You mean our guest?” Caesar asked with a smirk now and Carlos smirked too. I could barely breathe, I was just sitting there on the couch, completely motionless.
“Yeah,” Carlos said and Caesar turned to me, taking in a deep breath. He reached for me again, this time grazing his thick rough thumb up and down my jawline. I didn’t look at him, I still didn’t move. Then he broke into a sudden laugh.
“We have nothing to worry about with this one,” he said and drew his hand away. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
I looked at him then, gulping.
“What guest?” I asked, in a low voice and that response seemed to please the two guys.
“See, that’s what I’m talking ‘bout. She knows what’s good for her and her kid, doesn’t she?” Caesar continued to speak, his eyes focused on me. I nodded more.
“Now get your ass out of here, go help Sal in the bar or something. Make yourself useful. We ain’t paying you for sitting there and looking pretty,” he growled and I jumped off the couch. Those were the sweetest words he could have said to me.
I ran out of the room, brushing past Carlos who I felt a little indebted to. Had he quickly forgotten that I fed Dash or did he not care? Whichever it was, I was glad he hadn’t mentioned it to Caesar.
Out in the hallway, I stood for a while, trying to catch my breath. It felt like I’d been running a marathon. I was panting and sweating and dying of thirst.
Just spending a few minutes with Dash made me feel this scared for my safety and Amanda’s. I knew I could never repeat it again. I would have to avoid going into the cellar as much as possible.
Then I remembered his face. He had a big handsome smile, the kind I could fall for. The kind of smile that would be a mistake to fall for. He was a prisoner here. They could kill him in a few days. And then what?
My life would have to go on, no day different than the previous one.
I tried to stand still for a few moments and just breathe, but I was shaking all over. The thought of anything happening to Dash had scared me more than a punishment from Caesar.