Chapter Six
Charlotte
Only one week after Smokey had died, life has gone back to business as usual. I haven’t seen a single biker since that day I’d found Ryker shouldering his grief in the garden. I’m not exactly sure why, but that thought makes me anxious. I wonder how he’s doing and how Smokey’s funeral went, wishing that I could have said goodbye to him too. I don’t like how we’d left things. Something feels ... incomplete somehow. I keep reminding myself that I was just his friend’s nurse, but there’s no doubt in my mind that we’d made a connection, and now that connection has been severed.
Walking home from yet another evening shift, I feel those eyes on me again. Fumbling my pepper spray out of my oversized purse, I hurry to my building, dropping the keys on my first attempt to unlock the front door. My heart beats frantically, panic clawing its way up my throat as I look around, convinced that someone is coming up behind me. Nobody’s there. I feel foolish. My imagination is running away from me again.
Once the door is unlocked, I dash inside and push the security door closed, effectively locking myself in from the outside world. My chest heaves and my head feels light as I turn and rush to my apartment, locking the door once I get inside.
Relief washes over me as I lean my back against the barrier between me and whatever threat may be, but likely isn’t, out there. After my breathing returns to normal, I push myself off the door and remove my shoes and jacket, placing them in the front closet. Sticking with my normal routine does little to calm my nerves. I’m shaking like a leaf and my nerves are shot.
Anna’s at work and won’t be home for a few more hours. About a month ago, she took a job at a local bar as a waitress. It’s not the best job, but it pays the bills and she seems to enjoy it. I just hope that she doesn’t fall back to her old ways, getting involved with more dangerous men. They are exactly her type and I fear she will get herself into even more trouble. She may be my older sister, but it seems like I’m the one that’s always looking out for her, and it’s been that way ever since I was old enough to talk.
After double checking that the door’s locked, I head to my bedroom and change from my scrubs to a pair of cute and lacey pajamas. The pale blue tank top has a fringe of lace along the hem and around the chest. The tiny matching shorts are a bit darker, and covered in white and light green polka dots.
As I enter the bathroom to brush my teeth, I hear a click from the living room. What the hell was that? It sounded like the lock on the front door, but the only other person with a key to this place is Anna and she has about 4 more hours until her shift is over.
I stand in the bathroom, toothbrush in my mouth, frozen. My heart pounds frantically, causing the blood to rush behind my ears. I listen in petrified silence for any other noises. My mind goes back to that night a couple weeks ago, when I found the body outline on my rumpled bed. I don’t know what to do. Do I lock myself in the bathroom and wait for whoever it is to take what they want and go? Do I rush to my bedroom, lock the door and call the cops? Do I rush out and see who the fuck dares to enter my apartment without permission, scaring the shit out of me in the process? My mind races to come up with a plan, while I stand there like a deer caught in the headlights. That’s when I hear it.
The sound is so quiet, I almost miss it. A floorboard squeaking. The floorboards in the hallway squeak all the time when you step on them. Someone is out there, and I am in the first room of that short hall with the door wide open. My phone’s in my bedroom, and the lock on the bathroom door is useless; anyone could break it down with little trouble. I need to get to my bedroom, which is at the end of the hall, not even ten feet from where I am standing. I can do this.
Quietly putting down my toothbrush, I face the door and clench my jaw in determination. My heart is pounding in my chest as I lean forward to peek around the corner to the living room. A jolt of fear shocks my body when I see him standing there, looking directly at me. Krueger. A Devil’s Reject notorious for cutting people up with his favorite knife when they pissed him off or got in his way. He had always been the one that scared me the most. I never did like the way he always stared at me – like I was a piece of meat that he couldn’t wait to take a bite out of with those nasty crooked teeth he had.
A yelp of surprise and fear escapes my throat as I dash towards my bedroom. My only thought is that I have to get to a phone and call for help. I haven’t even made it halfway when his arms wrap around me, crushing me back into his chest. One hand covers my mouth and the other squeezes the breath right out of my lungs. I kick my legs frantically, struggling to break his hold, my screams muffled behind his giant meaty hand.
His chuckle is evil and vicious as he gives my body a shake. “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” He shakes me again and uses his hand to cover my nose and my mouth at the same time, cutting off my air supply. Panicking, I struggle harder, managing to kick his shin with my heel. “Fuck! Fucking cunt! Calm the fuck down.”
Taking a couple steps forward, he presses my front into the wall, his body pinning me from behind. The hand over my mouth and nose changes position, allowing me to breathe again but still muffling my screams. He reaches down in front of me and grabs onto my crotch roughly, digging his fingers painfully into my most private place. I squeeze my eyes closed, crying out into his hand. He grinds his hips into my ass, his erection rubbing me through his jeans and my tiny shorts. Bile rises in my throat. “Keep struggling, honey. It turns me right the fuck on.”
My body stills, fear causing my muscles to stay tense and my mind alert. His breath comes out rapidly, puffing across my cheek with each exhale. The stench is unbearable and I hold my breath to avoid taking it in. “That’s a good girl. I ain’t gonna hurt ya, but you and me need to have a little chat.” He continues to cover my mouth and wraps his other arm around my chest, pinning my back to his front as he turns and walks us right into my bedroom.
“Now, I’m gonna remove my hand. We’re gonna talk, and if you scream, I’ll shut you up by cramming my cock down your fuckin throat. Got me?”
Fear and despair courses through me, and tears stream down my cheeks as I nod frantically, letting him know that I did indeed “get him.” There’s not a doubt in my mind he’ll do exactly as he threatened. Slowly, he removes his hands and spins me around to face him before pushing me down into a sitting position on my bed. My whole body trembles violently, my mind racing to come up with some way to escape him. He says he just wants to talk, but I don’t believe him for a second. The Devil’s Rejects are known for being violent and vicious, and I know that no matter what he says, I may not survive this conversation.
He stands in front of me, leering with a cocky smirk on his face. I’d only met him a couple of times before, when I’d gone to the Devil’s clubhouse to pick up Anna. Krueger had shown an interest in me both times. The problem with that was, his interest came out as crude come-ons and openly groping at me whenever he got close enough to touch. He made my skin crawl.
His hair is short and greasy, dandruff showing at his temples, proving his hygiene habits to be severely lacking. His eyes are beady and dark, his nose hooked and narrow like a beak. His nose and cheeks are covered in pockmarks and his lips are so thin they’re virtually invisible. He only stands about three inches taller than my five and a half feet, his body thin and sinewy like a snake. It takes everything I have not to show my disgust. I’m in no position to piss him off.
“Fuck, you are one gorgeous bitch.” He lifts his hand, rubbing the heel of it up and down over his erection. I stifle a gag, desperately trying to keep down the bile that keeps rising higher and higher in my throat. “I can see your nipples through that thin little shirt of yours.”
His words cause my trembling to increase, and I quickly raise my arms, crossing them over my chest. He chuckles again and drops his hand. “Where’s your fuckin sister? That bitch owes me money, and we had an arrangement. She didn’t pay up, so I’m here to collect.”
My mind races. Anna hasn’t told me much about what went on with the Devils, but I know it was bad, and I know that she’s completely terrified of them – Krueger especially. I need to tell him something to get him to leave, but there’s no way in hell I’m giving up my sister. “I … I … I don’t know. I haven’t seen Anna in months.” My fear causes my voice to stutter, and I pray he believes me and moves on.
His backhand knocks me back on the bed, clutching my busted lip, my nose dripping blood down the front of my shirt. The pain is excruciating and unexpected – I’ve never been hit before.
“Fucking LIES! I know that bitch lives here with you. I saw her shit in the other room when I was here a couple weeks ago. Now where. The. Fuck. IS SHE?” He roars, bending down to get directly in my face.
It makes sense now. It had been Krueger here that night. Krueger that had lain in my bed, doing God knows what. Revulsion, anger and fear battle for first place in my mind, while I try to keep the tears at bay. Fuck him. He isn’t getting his hands on Anna. Removing my hand from my bloody lip, an eerie calm washes over me. Anger courses through my veins.
“Fuck you! I won’t tell you where she is. I don’t care what you do. Leave my sister alone, you fucking psycho.” The words rip from my throat before I can stop them, but I don’t care. I meant every word – no way am I telling this bastard where my sister is. I brace myself, knowing that he’s going to hurt me; I can take anything he does to me, if it means keeping my sister safe. I hope.
His face twists into a sinister sneer as he leans even farther into my space. “Oh honey. I love your filthy mouth. You really should have just told me where the bitch was, because now I’m gonna take my time with you. Your sister gave you to me fair and square, and if she isn’t gonna pay up, I’m takin what’s owed to me.”
He lunges at me so fast, I don’t have time to roll out of the way. His body pins me to the bed, the smell of cigarettes and body odor filling my nostrils. His infamous knife in his hand, the light glinting off the steel blade. I know he’s not going to let me live through this, so I fight. I fight with everything I have. I scream and claw and kick and bite at any part of him I can connect with.
“Fuckin BITCH!” Krueger rears his arm back, punching his fist right into my temple. The room spins, my vision blurring. Nausea roils through my belly. My body stills as I try to keep from throwing up. His hands are all over me, squeezing my breasts and pulling on my shorts, yanking at them in a terrifying attempt to get them off. He presses his dry, chapped lips to mine and I break out of the daze his punch had caused. Opening my mouth, I bite down on his lip, drawing blood.
He screams. “FUCKIN CUNT!” He delivers another blow, to my cheek this time, and claws at my shirt. I buck and scream and flail my arms and legs, doing anything I can to get him off me. My heart is pounding and my breathing comes out fast and labored. Light headed, I feel like I’m going to pass out.
Krueger grinds his cock down onto my pubic bone, one hand squeezing my breast like a vice while the other embeds itself in my hair, effectively holding my head still. Flailing wildly, my hand catches the vase on the nightstand. It’s still filled with the flowers I’d bought myself the other day. Reaching a little farther, my fingers catch the mouth, scrabbling to get a grip on it. The second I do, I lift it from the stand. Krueger is so caught up trying get my shorts off, he doesn’t notice when I lift it as high as I can, above our heads. This vase is an heirloom; it’s ceramic and heavy. If I hit him just right, I may just be able to get away.
Using every ounce of strength I have, I slam the vase down onto the side of his head. I know it won’t knock him out, but it should knock him off me. Flowers and water spray us both as it shatters against his temple. He goes flying off me, landing on his back beside the bed, clutching his head and screaming obscenities at me. I scramble to my feet and turn to run, but I see him struggling to get up. Turning back to him, I use every ounce of strength I have and kick him right between the legs. I hope I knocked his balls right up into his nostrils. Fucker.
Turning again, I run from the room, getting the hell out of there.
***
Ryker
I don’t know what the fuck is wrong, but this bitch just isn’t doing it for me. It’s been three days since we laid Smoke to rest, and seven days since I’d walked away from Charlie. My head is all kinds of fucked up, and I don’t know what to do. I miss Smokey; it kills me inside that I won’t ever see the crazy bastard again. There’s some comfort in knowing that he went peacefully, and that he was prepared for his death. As for Charlie … fuck. I feel empty; like I made the wrong choice turning away from her. That girl stars in almost every thought I have lately, and I want nothing more than to just show up at the nursing home, throw her over my shoulder like a caveman and claim her. But I can’t do that. Not if I don’t want her to end up like my mother.
I’m at The Pig’s Ear tavern with a bunch of my brothers, knocking back a few pints to unwind after a shit week. The waitress had been rubbing her tits all over me, offering herself up on a silver platter. Normally, I would just fuck her and be done with it. I’ve had several offers this past week to get laid, but I can’t get Charlie out of my mind.
This bitch though ... at first, she’d had potential. With her long, dark curly hair and big brown eyes, she looks enough like Charlie to make my dick stir in my pants. My thought was, I could fuck her, pretend she was Charlie and work that damn woman out of my system once and for all. It’s not working though. She smells like cigarettes and cheap perfume, and she’s moaning into my mouth like a porn star. It’s not sexy at all. It’s fucking annoying.
Earlier, when she’d called out that she was taking a break, grabbed my hand and dragged me back here to the staff room, I went willingly. Now, I’m just trying to ignore the stupid bitch, and imagine Charlie in her place – it’s not working. Her hand’s in my pants, jerking my cock and I’m not even hard. My hand’s up her shirt, but it’s doing nothing for me. Her tits are too small. Charlie’s are bigger, fuller ... perfect. Just as I’m about to push her away and go back out to my beer, the door to the staff room flies open, slamming against the wall.
Our heads whip in that direction and I freeze when I see her. What. The. Actual. Fuck? Charlie is standing in the doorway, tearstains on her cheeks. Her nose is obviously broken, her eyes already starting to bruise. Her lip’s busted and looks like it needs a couple of stitches. There’s a large bruise at her temple and her hair’s wild and falling from the ponytail that it’d once been in. She’s wearing pajamas – tiny ones that would usually turn me right the fuck on, if it weren’t for the fact that the strap on her tank top is torn and there’s blood all over her shirt. I can see scratch marks on her chest and shoulders, and more bruises appearing on her upper arms. Her feet are bare and I can see scrapes on her toes from walking outside without shoes.
She stands there staring at us, her expression shocked and likely mirroring my own. That’s when I realize that the waitress I was trying to lay the nuts too still has her hand down my pants, and I still have my palm wrapped around her tiny little tit. I jerk away like I’ve been burned, hurriedly fastening my pants.
The waitress recovers from her shock quickly and rushes over to Charlie, placing her hands on her upper arms. “Oh my God! Charlotte? What the hell happened to you? Are you ok?”
Charlie is still staring past her, eyes locked on mine. Anger fills her face before she swallows, giving her head a quick shake. “Anna. We need to talk. Now.” Peeling her eyes off me, she looks to the waitress. “In private.”
It’s not until the waitress nods and moves to pull her out of the room that I pull my head out of my ass. “Charlie? Baby, what the fuck happened to you?”
Charlie ignores me, avoiding my eyes as she tugs on the waitress’s arm. The waitress has a different idea. She looks pissed, standing beside the doorway, glaring at me. “Baby? Did you just call her baby?” She rips her arm out of Charlie’s grasp and turns on her, hands resting on her scrawny hips. “What the fuck, Charlotte?”
Charlie’s eyes fill with tears and she opens her mouth to reply, but I cut her off. Clearly this bitch needs a lesson. Charlie is standing here bleeding and crying, and she’s pissed that I called her baby? Who the fuck is she?
“Charlie! Answer me.” What I meant to be a demand came out more as a plea and her eyes shoot to me. The tears start falling freely down her cheeks and the thought of my Charlie being hurt almost brings me to my knees. I rush to her, ignoring the fuming waitress, and take her in my arms. At first, she resists so I lean in closer to whisper in her ear. “Babe. It’s ok. You’re safe now.”
Her body relaxes slightly while she clutches me like I’m a lifeline. Her hands clutch the back of my shirt while she buries her face deep into my chest. The sobs that escape leave her gasping for air, and she trembles as I hold her tighter. Smoothing her hair back, I try my best to soothe her but I’m desperate to find out how she ended up beaten and bloodied, standing in the door to the staff room of a seedy bar. Her arms are cold, and I realize that her trembling may not be entirely from fear.
Without a thought, I whip off my leather cut and remove the long sleeved shirt I’m wearing. Pulling it over her head, I cover her before yanking my cut back on, over my bare chest. That done, I pull her back into my chest and hold her while she cries.
The waitress wisely takes a step back, glaring at us while I try to calm my girl down. When Charlie sniffs a couple more times and slowly pulls away, wiping the tears from her cheeks, the waitress pounces. “Charlotte Elizabeth Daniels! You mind telling me why you’re here, crying all over this guy five seconds after I had my fucking hand wrapped around his cock?”
She flinches and her face pales as her eyes shoot from me to the waitress once again. Shaking her head quickly, she takes a couple steps back from me, putting too much distance between us. “Anna, it doesn’t matter. Ryker’s just someone I met at work. What does matter is that we need to talk. I have a message for you.”
Anna’s face goes from annoyed to instantly terrified. “They found me?”
Charlie nods. “Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no.” Anna is backing farther away, hands over her mouth, freaking right the fuck out. I’m still stuck on why Charlie looks like she’s been in a brawl and what the fuck she means about me being just a guy she met at work. I mean I am, but fuck ... I’m more than that, and she knows it.
“Enough!” My command makes both women yelp and turn their frightened faces towards me. “Charlie, you’re gonna tell me what the fuck happened to you. Now.”
She sighs, tears forming in her eyes again. “Ryker, I …” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I appreciate your concern, but this is between me and my sister.” She motions towards Anna, who is still in the corner of the room, having what appears to be a full blown panic attack. My mind flashes back a few moments, to the part where she said this bitch is her sister. Not good.
“Bullshit. Baby you’re standing here in front of me, after crying in my arms, looking like someone went at you with a god damned baseball bat. That automatically makes me involved. Now what the fuck happened?” My fists are clenched tightly and it takes everything I have in me not to wrap her in my arms again and make those tears go away.
“I’m fine, Ryker. Anna and I just have to talk, and then we’ll be leaving. I appreciate your concern, but I’m ok.” She attempts to smile but quickly changes her mind when she remembers her swollen, busted lip. Wincing, she covers it with her hand, but holds my eyes with a determined look on her face.
“My concern? Again, woman, you in front of me, half-dressed and bleeding is definitely my concern. Now, I’m not gonna fucking ask you again. Tell me what happened.”
She sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Looking around the room, she moves to close the door, shutting herself, her sister and me into the drab, little staff room. She then looks over to the small couch Anna and I were making out on, wrinkles her nose in disgust and moves over to the chair in the corner. Anna moves and sits on the couch. There’s no way in hell I’m going to sit next to that bitch so I stand, arms folded over my chest and wait.
I wait some more while Charlie sits there, staring at her bare feet. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I need to know what happened to her and who hurt her. The anger I felt when I first saw her battered appearance is growing to a full on rage. I take the couple steps between us and kneel directly in front of her, lifting her chin until she meets my eyes, making an attempt to keep my voice calm and soothing. “Baby. I know somethin’ bad has happened, but you really need to tell me what it was, and then I need to get you cleaned up and into some warmer clothes.”
She nods before looking over at her sister. “I got off work tonight and walked home. I felt like I was being watched again.” Her words cause me to still and my rage grows. What the fuck does she mean “again”? Someone’s been watching her? “When I got home, nobody was there, but when I was in the bathroom, I heard someone in the apartment.” Charlie fists her hands tightly in her lap.
“I tried to get to my room so I could lock myself in and call the police, but he caught me before I could.” She pauses, then looks to her sister. “Anna? It was Krueger.”
“No!” My back is to her, but I can hear the fear in Anna’s voice. Krueger? I only know of one Krueger, and the guy is a fucking nightmare, worthy of his name. I’d met him on more than one trip to Toronto, and he gave even me the creeps. He’s fucked in the head and had raped more than a few club whores that had been stupid enough to wander into his path. One of whom, he’d enjoyed taking his knife to. But he’s a Devil. There’s no way my Charlie’s messed up with the Devil’s Rejects. Is there?
Charlie nods her head slowly at her sister. “It was, honey. He grabbed me, roughed me up a little and demanded to know where you were.” My eyes still locked on her, I can hear her sister’s gasp of fear from behind me, and Charlie hurries to finish her story. Balling up my fists, I remain silent, waiting for the rest of it. “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t. That’s what pissed him off. He was so angry.” She inhales a shaky breath. “He said you owed him money, and that you had a deal he was here to collect on.” Her voice softens to a whisper. “That’s when he tried to rape me.”
I spring to my feet and drive my fist into the wall. That fucker had tried to rape her? Had dared to lay a greasy finger on her? I’m gonna rip his fucking balls off and feed them to him.
My entire body shakes with rage. Anna is crying behind me, but now Charlie’s looking at me. Trying to soothe me. Suddenly, Charlie’s reaction to Reaper last week makes a whole lot more sense. She’s had issues with the Devils.
“He didn’t though. I managed to get ahold of a vase in my bedroom and hit him over the head with it. It knocked him to the floor and then I kicked him in the balls and ran. He didn’t rape me. I’m ok.” Her words don’t help.
She grabs my hand and stands in front of me, placing her free hand on my cheek while I attempt to lock down the anger. “Ryker. I’m ok. Really. Now Anna and I need to talk, and figure out what we’re gonna do because this guy will be back, and there’s no way he’s getting his hands on my sister.” She stares up at me confidently. The look would be reassuring if it weren’t for the bloody nose, black eyes and split lip.
I grab her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. “Charlie, you and Anna aren’t going anywhere. This guy ain’t coming back, ‘cause I’m gonna fucking find him, and then, I’m gonna kill him.”