Aimee
Oh, Christ… what the hell did I just do?
Okay. I know what I did and why I had to do it, but… seriously?
It’s been about an hour since we finished. I’ve been staring at the old electronic clock on the nightstand the entire time, counting down the minutes, during which neither of us has said much. Instead, we’ve just been laying here, our bare shoulders just touching and our hands occasionally brushing up against one another, communicating only in pants and the occasional grunt.
At one point, Breaker gets up, shakes his head, and strides over towards the bathroom. My eyes can’t help but follow his impressive body; the way those tight ass cheeks and muscular thighs sway side to side as he walks the length of the room. I know I shouldn’t want him as much as I do, but I can’t deny that the feelings I have are anything but innocent.
I usually don’t do this. I’m not the type of girl, even with the company I’ve kept, to jump into bed with a guy just because his body impresses me—or even because he can offer me some form of protection. I’ve had those kinds of offers before, and I’ve always managed to weasel my way out of them. No muss, no fuss.
But Breaker had somehow convinced me that it was my only option if I was going to remain safely under his care. I had to take it. I had to be that girl—a motorcycle slut.
And now, I’m his. That’s a loaded, and pretty ugly, word—his. I know the rules. I know how those girls are treated, abused, and passed around like appetizers at a party. So many of them are used by guys who couldn’t care less about their feelings or their bodies. They are just there for a quickie on demand.
Breaker has to know that I am not going to be that kind of girl that just spreads my legs when he calls. I mean, what we did tonight was good, but... Oh, who the hell am I kidding? It was amazing. My entire body feels like it is humming, like a song on repeat, and between my thighs, there’s this insatiable urgency for more.
Still, I can’t let him know that. I’d lose any bit of power I might have if I confess that I even remotely enjoyed that little roll in the hay. And I’m sure he noticed me screaming out in ecstasy, not just once, but twice, as I came harder than I ever have in my life—first, like an excited thunderclap, then like a rocket exploding in the night sky, both setting fire to my body. And I did the thing I hate the most in those moments; I called out his name. Now, as the afterglow was winding down, I realized just how awful an idea that had been.
“You want a drink?” Breaker asks as he turns off the bathroom’s light and fan. “I always need something to drink after I screw.”
I rub my tongue over my lips. They’re dry to the bone, but I haven’t even noticed. I’m suddenly alert to how sweaty I am and how red my skin is.
“Yeah. I could go for something. What you got to offer?” I croak back.
He pulls out his sack, the one that attaches to the bucket of his motorcycle. Wrapped in a few old t-shirts is a bottle of brown liquid, only about half way full. “It’s not the good stuff, but it’s whiskey. I’d get you water, but I wouldn’t drink out of the tap in a place like this.”
“Whiskey is fine.” I instantly regret it after I say it. My head is already spinning from the rum and tequila earlier. Adding whiskey to the mix felt even more dangerous, especially with all these thoughts running through my head about Breaker and his hands tracing up and down my breasts.
“Here ya go.” He hands me a paper cup from the bathroom filled a little more than halfway with the drink. Tapping the sides, he adds, “To us.”
“To us,” I mutter, not sure what that’s supposed to mean right now, but we both tip the drinks back and, in one throw, swallow all of it. The alcohol burns my throat. The leathery taste isn’t exactly my favorite, but it will do. I should grab a bottle of water on my way out, though.
Carefully, I pull myself out of bed; the sheet still wrapped around my body. Breaker watches as I grab the discarded clothes and quickly toss them on. When I’m done, he clears his throat awkwardly and stands in front of the door, effectively blocking my way out. “Uh, well, there’s one more thing we gotta do tonight to make this thing official.”
“Wait? What? I thought that all I had to do was sleep with you and we could call it a night.” Frustrated at the thought of having to do yet another thing for him and the club, I pull my hair up as tight as I can into a quick ponytail.
“We need to prove that we did the deed.”
“How in the hell do we do that?” I ask. A million horrible thoughts run through my head as I remember sneaking off to read my sister’s Scottish romance books where the girl is examined to be sure that the couple consummated their wedding night. No way was I giving any of them the satisfaction of something like that.
“Well,” Breaker says as he rubs the back of his neck; his arm lifting to show even more tattoos I’ve yet to notice. “The thing is that Henry’s been outside the door listening and Biggs is in the room next to us too. They both have to agree that we got the job done to make our thing real.”
I place my hand up in front of his face, stopping him from going on. “Wait a minute… when we were starting to have… well, I suggested that we just move the bed around and make some noises. That could have worked if all they were doing is listening!”
“It’s not enough. Biggs is kind of an expert at lie detecting. He can see through you. It’s his job to read other people, and he would’ve read it on your face and body. You might not get that now, but when you really see him at work and in action, you’ll know it. And Henry, well, he’d lie for me anyways, but I’m not getting him in hot water because we thought we could pull a fast one over on Biggs.”
I sigh, completely exasperated at this situation. Not only did I have to sleep with the beast, but I also have to prove to the others that it wasn’t an act! Jesus. I just can’t take any more of these rules and the pressure to stay in line. But I know I have no other choice. “What do I need to do to get this over with?”
“Just answer Biggs’s questions. Don’t be a smartass, spoiled brat, and you’ll keep us both alive tonight. Pull the shit that got you here in the first place, and we’ll both end up dead.” Before I can say yes, he grabs my hand and opens the door.
Like he said, Henry is outside, leaning up against the brick wall. His head is dropped as he snores into his chest. Breaker clears his throat, but it doesn’t wake him up. It takes a kick to the shins to get him out of his dream.
“Jesus. Why the fuck did you do that? Do you know what time it is?” Flustered, Henry glances down at his watch. It’s nearly four o’clock in the morning. In just a few hours, this place will be up and at it again. There is work to do to get some more cash for the group.
“Dude,” Breaker replies, “Did you hear it or not?”
Henry looks directly at me with a smile so wide it looks as if it will jump off his face, “Oh yeah. I heard her…”
“Fine. Tell Biggs and get this over with.” He grabs Henry’s arm and shoves him towards Biggs’s door.
Henry knocks twice and stands back. All of us collectively hold our breaths, though the smell of cigarettes and booze choke us when the door finally opens.
Biggs grunts. “It’s about damn time.” He is stripped down to his boxers and a dirty, stained wifebeater tank. He smells as foul as he looks. “Did you hear it, Henry?”
“Yeah. I heard it. I’ll confer as the second.”
Biggs sniffs and spits before saying, “Fine, but I wanna talk to the girl before I sign off.” I don’t have time to retort before his dirty nails are digging into my arm and pulling me into his bedroom. The door slams behind us, and I immediately realize how trapped I am in this dingy room with the metal locks all hooked up.
I stand firm by the window. “I did it. Is that what you need to know?”
“I know you did it. I could hear you through the walls—all that panting and screaming. I didn’t know a little girl like you had it in ya. But now that I do…” He approaches me in a flash, coming so close that I feel his beard brush up against my shoulder. A shot flicks up my spine as I back myself into the wall. It’s a mistake, and I know it.
Biggs smiles as he pushes his body into mine. “Do you know what it means to be someone’s woman when you’re part of the Gravediggers? It means that I control you as much as I control your lover. When I say ‘jump, you jump.’ And when I say ‘strip down,’ you best be on my bed butt naked within seconds.”
Whatever bit of courage I have left in me seems to boil to the surface as I place my hands on his chest and push away as hard as I can. “No!” I scream out. “I won’t do it. I’m Breaker’s girl, and you don’t mess with me.” The words fly out before I can even consider them.
Biggs lands on the side of the bed, his chubby legs still dangling off. He laughs heartily as he says, “We’ll see about that, girly. You think you’re safe from me, but you don’t know the half of what I can do to you when your boy ain’t around.”
“Can I go now?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“For now.” He gestures towards the door. “But I’d watch your back if I were you.”
“I will,” I promise over the sound of my racing pulse beating war drums in my ears. I don’t look back. I spin towards the door and unlatch each and every lock with shaking hands. Biggs continues to laugh at me as I struggle, but I get out eventually.
Breaker is waiting for me on the other side; his long arms catching me as I stumble out. “Whoa there, Aimee. What the hell is the matter? What did Biggs say?”
“It’s done,” I reply quickly, yet not knowing what I mean. Biggs never gave his approval, but I was more focused on his aggressive stance toward me.
“It’s your turn, Breaker. Shut the door behind you,” Biggs calls out from the open door.
Breaker lets go of me and walks into the room; a different man than the one who shared a bed with me. This was the other side of him, the motorcycle maniac linked and loyal to a total psychopath. And suddenly, I’m back to that question; what the hell have I done?
I ignore Henry, still stammering about how tired he is, and run towards the outer edge of the motel where the parking lot is. I know I can’t run far. If I even cross this line, I’ll have at least ten bikers on my trail within minutes. Desperation comes over me, but I’m stuck where I am. My feet become cinder blocks attached to weak legs, and I fall to the ground overwhelmed with grief.
From this spot, the highway becomes the waves from my past. I remember staring out at them three years ago when I ran away for good. I had run straight towards the edge of the island and, having only found the ocean, I tossed rocks into the waves until my eyes became heavy and the sun rose.
Hours earlier, that very day, my dad had hit me again. I was only eighteen and ready to go to college, but he caught me in my mom’s purse. It was the first time I had attempted to steal from them, and he made it known that it would be the last. Every part of my face burned with the imprint of his hand, but I packed up and headed towards the water in hopes of finding a way to escape.
And there it was—right as I was about to leave, I noticed a green, designer purse handle buried under a pile of sand. It called to me as I clawed it out of the fresh groove. Inside the purse was my freedom—over $200 in cash and some credit cards with IDs. The girl looked nothing like me, but it would get me out of here if I played it right.
I booked a ticket to California hours later, and I never looked back at those waves again. Nor did I ever let myself fall victim to a man like my father or the ex who taught me how to steal like a pro. Those rocks sinking into the water was me promising myself that this was it. There was no way I would be a victim to anyone again. I was going to survive whatever was out there waiting for me.
Still in the motel’s parking lot, slumped on the ground, I find a cement rock within reach. I pick it up, examining its curves and edges, before hurling it out towards the highway. It hits with an audible crack, breaking into a tiny, unseen pieces on the ground. I close my eyes again, listening to the roar of the cars passing by, and I think about all the promises I have made to myself thus far.
I am a survivor. I will make decisions that will help me live to see tomorrow.
I will give Breaker what he wants in exchange for the freedom he has promised me. But I am not going to let myself be owned by anyone, no matter what Biggs may say or threaten.
From here on out, I do what my mind and body think is right.