17
Tank
I should have never said any of that shit to her. I should have never hurt her like that. My need to make her hurt caused the worse kind of damage. It’s a damage I may never be able to come back from. None of this would have happened if I hadn't been so careless with her. I did her untold damage. I broke a heart made of gold. Crushed her. I hurt the only person I've ever loved. … My wrists are sore, stiff, and burn like a son of a bitch. I can feel the trickle of blood from my wrists running down my palms. Fought so damn hard against these cuffs to get to her I'm pretty sure both wrists are broken. My head fucking throbs right along with my erratic heartbeat. My jaw hurts from keeping my mouth shut. Fuck my whole God damn body hurts. My heart hurts worse. Broke her heart at the club and now I let that motherfucker get her. The idea I'll never get to apologize is enough to make me sick. The hurt my body feels doesn't compare. Lil's gone. That sick sadistic motherfucker took my girl. Watching those sad eyes harden with steel reserve I saw the fight in my baby. Her words cut deep. I'm not sure I'll ever forget that. I keep telling myself that was all bullshit for the walking dead guy, but part of me thinks her words were true. Fuck the way I treated her I wouldn't blame her. I'm fucked. I'm fucking stuck. Stuck watching him touch my girl. Kiss my girl. Stuck watching her pack a bag and leave willingly. Never once did she look at me after she said those words. I can feel my mind and sanity slowly starting to slip. Every second that ticks by is a second further away from me she gets. I can feel that shit in my bones. I feel her sickening absence. “Ahh,” Peaches grumbles from beside me. I've been watching her, waiting for her to wake her ass up. Wondering when she'd come back around. I all but gave up on yelling at her. She was out cold. Spent fifteen minutes starring at her restraints. Studying that shit. For some fucking miracle they didn't cuff her to the radiator. “Peaches, wake your ass up.” Her heads bobs around a little. Eyelids fluttering. Mind coming in and out of it. “What the fuck … Lil?” Peaches seems to remember shit. Her shrill voice attacks at my ear. “Calm the fuck down Peaches. It's … me … Tank. We gotta get us untied.” Red puffy eyes swing to me. Sheer panic and worry on her pinched features. “Lil? Oh God! He … she … Josh was here. Oh my fuckin' God!” Her body shaking, eyes frantically searching the room. Tears flowing down her cheeks. If I wasn't tied the fuck up I'd smack the shit out of her, calm her the fuck down. The longer she stalls the less time I have. And I don't have time to waist. “Shut the fuck up women. Yes that was the dead guy Josh. No I don't know how he's alive. Yes I know you saw him die. No I don't know where or why he took Lil.” I try to run off all the answer to her unasked questions. “Listen you're not cuffed to the radiator. I need you to try to get free and untie me.”
Took twenty long painful minutes get uncuffed. The phone call to Low took one minute. The next even less, he shut her phone off. Peaches is a useless mess on the couch. A sobbing and whimpering mess. The faint rumble of bikes lets me know they're close. It's taken everything in me not to hop on my bike and go after her. That one threat lingering. It has me waiting. He'll kill her if I come looking. Not sure if it's a bullshit threat, but it's not a threat I'm willing to chance. I can play games with her life. I've just been pacing back and forth trying my hardest to think of some shit that might help this situation. I'm antsy. My blood pumping with adrenaline. Nothing's coming to me. I don't know him, never did. I've not the slightest idea where to begin and that's the worst part of this whole God damn thing. In this situation I'm fucking useless. I'm never useless. I've no fucking clue how to handle that. Lows through the door face full of fury and worry. Gin's on his heels, Stitch right behind him. Everyone else fallows suit. “Gin! Oh my God. He … he … took her. Josh!” Peaches is up off that couch in the blink on an eye. Gins confused eyes swing to me. When I called Low all I explained was Lil was gone. He hung up before I could get the whole story out. “Josh? As in Josh, Josh? Dead Josh?” Gin asks Peaches, eyes on me for confirmation. “Yes! Josh Keller. That Josh. Lil' boyfriend Josh. Dead guy Josh!” Peaches is frantically screeching. Panic weaved into her shrill voice. Brothers start shouting and making calls. “You sure 'bout that Peaches? Remember watchin' his head blow off,” Low rumbles skeptically. His foot tapping impatiently. “Girl the more time you waist of mine, the further my daughter gets.” Peaches pleading eyes swing to me again. Low fallows her eyes. “What the fuck goin' on Tank?” Fuck. I give him the play by play from the time I walked through the door until the moment Lil walked out of it. “You know it was Josh for sure?” Low asks me I can hear his patients dwindling. He sure as fuck still doesn't sound like he believes me. “No I'm not sure, because like I fuckin' said. I didn't know the motherfucker. Don't know him from any other dude. But I believe my girl. Her eyes that shocked face of hers don't lie. She called him Josh anyways.” Punching a hole in the wall next to him Low roars with anger, “Fuck! Fuckin' motherfucker!” Every brother is stuck. Stuck standing here looking confused as fuck. Yeah the dead motherfucker lives. Time to find him and kill him for good this time.
“Explains why Crow bagged his head, didn't want anyone to see who's head was blown off,” Sargent says with an air of finality to the question. Sitting in church, brothers sitting around the table, others standing. The rooms packed to capacity. Every chapter within three hundred miles is here and ready for war. The air is filled with anger and energy. “Josh musta been the motherfucker who killed Crow then. Shit got too messy for Draco's, kill Crow the only Disciple who knew,” Arms explains. This shit runs deep. Shit trailing back at least ten years. “Don't get this shit. Why would Crow go rouge? Why would he flip and get with Draco?” I can't seem to figure the 'why's' out. This shit isn’t making much sense. The part where the guy bagged and killed wasn't Josh makes sense. It was a set up. Some dude no one knows was killed in place of Josh, Crow set it up. Then Josh killed Crow, because he knew too much. Disciples thought Josh's died, threat was gone. We slip off of our game. My question is why? Why would Crow turn and why would Josh go through all this shit? A few brother grunt in agreement. “Knew that son of a bitch was filthy from the jump. Somethin' didn't set well with me 'bout him. Always wanted what we had for himself, but never wanted to be a Disciple to get at it.” Gin barks, slamming his fists on the table. His temper waning. “So this shits for power?” Happy growls in confusion. Low stands up from the head of table, hands in his hair. Everybody shuts up and looks to him. “Fuck! Fuck!” Every eye in the room watching him. Agitation and anger roll off of him. “It all makes perfect sense,” Low whispers menacingly. Holding my breath I wait for it. “Draco's have always wanted what we've got. All the connections, pipelines, runs, you name it. … Fuckin' Christ.” Shaking his head it all seems to dawn on him. “Motherfucker got close to Josh in Iraq. They used him to get to us. Offered him the power he always wanted in exchange for info on us. Remember nine years ago, the cargo van that disappeared and the one blown the fuck up? Me, you, and Crow were the only ones that knew 'bout that run,” Low says to Tiny. Realization dawns of Tiny's face. “Shit!” Nodding solemnly Low almost looks sick. “Yeah brother. Crow was always 'bout his money. Musta paid him heavily to flip on us, offered him protection from us, but they flipped on him. He was just a pawn.” Sitting back down Low steeples his fingers under his chin looking angry and a little lost. I'm at a loss for words too. Breathing deeply he continues. “Must still be alive and part of Draco. Josh always wanted Lil. Always wanted to take her from me, from us. She's power to him. As long as has he’s got her he thinks he's safe. Part the reason I let her move away after all this shit. He took her for power over me, over us. Took her cus he loves her too. Loves her to death.” I think I might be sick. He hurts my girl I'm breaking every single bone in his body, pulling each tooth, cutting off limbs, then letting him slowly bleed out. “Two days before Lucy died we went to see Lil, switched her cars so I could work on her shit. That hit wasn't on Lucy, that shit was for Lil. Right car, wrong person. That attack on Lil at the store was for her, having her deliver a message to us. In the back yard that was them tryin' to get her after they sent a message. It was a message from Draco's to us saying they're comin' for her. Not only is Josh part of Draco, but he's was coming for Lil. Draco's knows Lil's my weak spot; they're using him to get her and her to get to me. To get what we have. ... Jesus Fuckin' Christ.”
It's been three days. Three excruciatingly hard days. We haven't heard shit. There's not a trace. Not one slip up. No hair out of place. No crumb left behind. It's like they've disappeared into thin air. Everyone is tense and on edge. The club is bristling with anger. Everything is up in the air right now. It's their game. Balls in their court. I'm impatiently waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know its coming. There is war on the horizon. Lying in my room at the club I can't stop thinking about Lil. I can't fucking eat. I can't sleep. Can't concentrate. She's everywhere. Her clothes in my room. Her car in my driveway. My sheets smell like her. Fuck do I want her back. Want to touch her, hold her, and know she's here with me. Laying here I wonder if she's okay. If she's hurt. Is that sick prick feeding her, touching her? Fuck. My phone rings breaking into the silence. Jumping up, frantically searching for it. Pulling it off of the nightstand I see it's a blocked number. My heart stops. “Yeah?” There's silence for a brief moment, that moment feeling like hours. “Tank?” Lil's hoarse voice comes through the line. Shit I almost die from the frantic beat my heart starts. Adrenaline spikes my blood. Body jumping to action. “Lil, baby. Where are you? You okay?” There's silence fallowed by a loud banging noise. My heart falls to my feet. I listen; try to hear anything that can help me find my baby. “Baby. Talk to me!” Still I'm met with silence. My phone is still connected, she's there. I'm shaky as fuck trying not to drop my phone. “Lilly! God damn it talk to me. Please baby, tell me where you are.” More silence, then I hear her. Her words sound final. “I love you.” The phone disconnects. My heart stops completely. Fuck!
Lil
I've been stuck in this nasty room for at least twenty-four hours now. The house I was in before not much better than this room though. It's my punishment for trying to use the phone. Too bad I did use it anyways. It's not a large room I'm in, but then again it's not tiny either. There are no windows and only one door. One way in one way out. I'm stuck. If I remember correctly the room is centered in the middle of the house I'm in. I think this room used to be a kitchen. The floor is that horrible stick on tile. It's peeling in most corners, hell some tiles are even missing leaving sub floor underneath. Green and yellow tiles, with squares within squares for a pattern. I'm sure it's from the seventies. The walls are a dingy mustard color. The upper half of the walls are dirtiest, the bottom half a little cleaner. I think that's where the cabinets once hung. I really do wish there was a window in here. It's hot as hell in this room. I'd kill for a breeze right now. Even with my lack of clothes I'm still hot. A thin sheen of sweat slicks my skin. Wearing my black panties and bra only. Usually this wouldn't bother me, but I have a feeling my clothes, or lack thereof, is for a reason. A reason I'm trying desperately not to think about. I'm sweaty and feel dirty. I could really use a shower. I'm also really hungry and thirsty. A TV or something to read would be nice. I'm trying hopelessly to focus on the little things. Like my lack of clothes, needing a shower, entertainment, and this kitchen room I'm in. Instead of Tank. Instead of the hard truth that I'll probably never see him again let alone make it through this alive. I've had little contact with anyone. The only person I see is Josh. When I do see him he isn't kind. He's not sweet. Smacking me around he tells me it's because of what I did to him that I'm here. How I turned my back. It still blows my mind that he's alive. Sometimes I feel like this is some really sick sad dream. If that were only true.
“Get up girl,” Josh grumbles from somewhere near my ear. Hearing his voice I pretend to be asleep. Hoping to God he'll leave me alone. “Lilly,” he says with more force. “Go away,” I growl. Jerking on my arm he says, “Shut up bitch and get the fuck up.” Shaking my shoulders hard, hands traveling down my back. Steeling my body I wait for the touching. Over the past three days he's been growing increasingly grabby with me. Always looking at me like I'm a piece of food and he's starving. Finding reasons to touch me. Those touches always turn into a caress. I'm waiting for the more part. I can see the sex and lust in his eyes when he looks at me. At first I wondered if my mind was just having a hard time digesting the fact that he was alive as why it bothered me so much. Now I'm starting to think I just don't fucking like him. He couldn't be further from the man I once loved. There's nothing sweet, kind, or pure about him anymore. He doesn't look at me with love. It's a look boarding contempt now. His violence towards me doesn't help. That coupled with his dirty hygiene and his lack of tenderness makes it really hard not to throw up when he puts his hands on me. “I'm tired,” I grumble hoping he'll leave me the hell alone. Kicking the side of the gross mattress I'm on he barks, “get the fuck up. Tick wanna see you.” I've been waiting for this day, not excitedly I might add. I've been hearing about Tick and not looking forward to seeing him. Grabbing around my arms Josh hauls me off of the bed. “Get up. He wants ya now.” Holding onto my arms he tugs me towards the door. My stomach in knots, heart in my throat. Trying urgently to come up with something, anything to stop this meeting. “I need clothes,” I shout digging my heels in trying to stop Josh. Turning hard eyes on me, he runs them up and down my body. A disturbed smile breaks his face. “The fuck ya do. Tick'll like ya like this.” What the fuck? Why would he? I'm not here for Tick. “What?” My voice a whispered stutter. Stopping his trek to the door he looks at me again. His face now one of feeling sorry for the pathetically stupid girl. “Ya didn't think ya was just here for me? Had to offer Tick somethin' for his help gettin' ya back.” My head spins, heart plummets, my stomach twists. Oh no. He's giving me to Tick? Shaking my head my eyes plead with Josh. I don't want either, but he's the lesser of two evils. Oh fuck. “Don'tcha worry. It'll be over soon. Then you're all mine Lilly baby.”
Pulling me out the door, through a small yard towards a large shop he doesn't let me go. Josh holds my arm tightly as he drags me. Fingers bruising my skin. A summer rain pelting the ground. Rain drops hitting my overheated body. Humid and hot, my nearly naked body sheeted with sweat and rain. Pulling on my arm he pushes me into a large shop bay full of biker scum. I watch bloodshot dilated eyes scout me once I'm through the door. Taking me in. Watching me. All their expressions giving away what they're thinking. My stomach still in knots. Adrenaline pumping in my veins. Heart beating wildly in my chest. There's at least ten guys in here. Not a single female. I'm severely out numbered. Josh shoves me hard towards a man standing at one side of the room alone. Looking up I'm hit with it. Scars raking his face. Nasty sneer for me. “Well well good ta see ya again bitch,” the man growls in pleasure at me. Turning my eyes back to Josh I beg. I plead with my eyes. He loved me once. He's just going to throw me to the wolves knowing what they'll do to me? I know how these men treat women, it's not good. For me it'll be worse, a whole lot worse. My father being Low, President of the Disciples they'll make an example of me. Chew me up and spit me out. That's if I survive the chewing up. I can't look away from Josh, pleading desperately. Shaking his head he has the heart to look a little sad. Maybe even a little scared for me. The fear in his eyes heightens my fear. They're going to kill me. “Ain't need ta be lookin' at him for help. Yous here for me girly,” Scar face bites bitterly. My eyes swing to his. This is it, fight or flight. I make a run for it I'm making it ten feet before they get me. Time to fight. Squaring my shoulders I hold my head high. I may go down, but it won't be without a fight. “Your dear ol' daddy know ya hear? What 'bout cha ol' man?” Scar face taunts me. Nodding I offer my own sweet smile. Throwing his head back he laughs, “Do they now? Why ain't they here den, savin' da princesses?” He's got me there, but still I'm not giving in. Shrugging flippantly I quirk my eye brow. “They will be.” Shaking his head he eyes me again. His gaze makes my skin crawl. “Ya know ya ol' man killed a few a' my guys?” Shaking my head I go for clueless. Scar face looks at a guy a few feet behind me to my left. “Tank killed ya brother Meats?” Shifting slightly I peek over my shoulder at the guy. Oh shit. He doesn't look mad he looks deadly. “Well brotha whatcha think? She do for repayment.” Looking at me with a terrifying smiling Meats nods. “Yeah, could tear da cunt up. She'll be a fun.”
Arms tied above my head. Ropes hanging from the rafters hoisting them up. The tight bite of the rope cutting into my flesh burns terribly. My ribs burning and tearing at the pull in my body and from the hits. I can feel my skin swelling and bruising. Some of these guys like to hit girls. A few used me as a human punching bag. It wasn't fun, but I'll survive it. That's not the part that's terrifying. First being I'm not able to fight back. I have no way of protecting myself. Second it's the fact I'm in next to nothing leaving me open and exposed to all the men. My skin covered in sweat and rain has now been caked with some dirt and mud. For some odd reason Josh had the decency to put my boots back on me, God knows why. Wearing only my bra, panties and black knee high riding boots has me scared and jumpy at any movement near my body. I'm just waiting for someone to touch me again. I've been strung up for a while. At least an hour or two, hell maybe more. I've lost track of time. My arms have lost all feeling, fingers numb, and my skin cold. My upper body aches to the bone. I'm alone out here. They left with no promise to return. I'm hopeful someone other than the guys who took me will find me. I miss Tank. I miss him desperately. I'd give anything to be in his bed, safely tucked in his arms right now. I love him and I should have told him to his face. I should have done a lot of things differently. The roar of bikes cuts into my thoughts. Hope builds only to be dashed by scar face's mangled mug. “Fuck ya are beautiful cunt,” Scar face or now I've learned Tick rasps as he walks to me. Hand wrapped around the back of my knee. Fingers touching my skin. “Don't fuckin' touch me.” Hands running up and down my legs. “Why all the mouthy bitches gotta be hot as fuck?” Tick asks no one in particular. “Ya havin' fun up there princess?” He teases giving my body a little swing. My toes barely touch the ground making it hard to stop the swinging. Feet dragging in the dirt. The movement of the ropes cuts deeper into my wrists. I stuff down the need to groan in pain. I won’t give him the satisfaction. Josh comes in and looks at me, regret in his eyes. “You should cut her down,” Josh says. Tick cuts his laughing eyes to Josh. “Yeah?” Nodding Josh looks back at me. His face a mask of nothing. He doesn't care. “Yeah unless ya like fuckin' bitches with missin' arms. Cus her’s look 'bout ready to fall the fuck off.” Laughing Tick shrugs carelessly. Snatching a buck knife from his back pocket he points it at me. The blade shiny and long. I steel myself for the pain I know I've got coming. Holding my breath and biting the inside of my cheek, I wait. Touching the cold blade to my upper thigh he pushes it into my skin. My skin breaks open around the blade. The blade slices down, not deep enough to do a lot of damage, but enough to make it hurt. Dragging it slowly he watched with rapt attention. A long eight inch gash in my thigh. Biting my lip I hold that shit in. Closing my eyes I pray he stops there. “Even fuckin' pretty when she bleedin'” Tick says looking at his handy work. I can feel the blood trickle down my leg into my boot. Pain slicing into my leg.
With a swift slice the rope falls free; my body hits the ground hard in a heap. Legs shaky, arms numb, and body aching. Pushing down the pain I get up. I can't stay down. I can't be weak right now. With a cruel laugh Tick watches me. Amused excitement on his face at my stumbled shaky stance. “Daddy taught ya well. Bad ass little cunt ain'tcha.” Twisting quickly he throws his buck knife into a wood pole a foot away from my face. Testing me. Trying to scare me. Hitting the pole with precise accuracy. I don't flinch. I don't scream. I can't let them smell the fear on me. His eyes widen a fraction. “Bitch if ya wasn't a Disciple I'd make ya my ol' lady. Bad fuckin' bitch.” I sneer at his deranged compliment. I'd die before I'd ever be his. “C'mere,” he demands harshly crooking a finger in my direction. Backing up I look for a way out. Something to save myself. I know as the seconds tick by my chances run thin. I have to get out. I have to live. “C'mere cunt!” Tick roars with impatience. My time has run out. Surging forwards he makes a grab for me. Dodging his hands I jump to my left. Head first at me he tries again. Disgusting determination on his face. Spinning I duck around him. Making a grab for the buck knife I pull it out of the wood as I go. The need for some sort of protection has me trying for it. With a sadistic laugh he lunges again. No consideration for the knife in my hand. Enjoying this little cat and mouse game. He's taking pleasure in making me fight for my life. Faking right and then left I dodge him by only inches. Stopping his pursuit he looks me dead in the eyes. Facing off with him. My heart stutters at the sheer hate and loathing he has for me. “This ain't gunna end well for ya Princess. C'mere cus imma kill ya either way cunt.” Stepping back everything goes still for a fraction of a second. A loud gunshot rings around the shop. In one swift action everyone panics. Pulling guns, scattering around the room, taking cover. Time starts to move fast again. Standing in the middle of the room I'm stuck. Blindingly fast times picks up speed. Tick heads for the bay door completely forgetting about me. “Get her Meats,” Josh barks at him, pointing right at me. Standing across the shop watching me. The sick fucks wants this for me. Wants me to hurt. Meats heads towards me. The thrill of the chase on his face. This is it. Grabbing for me he gets my arm in a vise like grip. “Ha Ha cunt!” Holding on to me he rips me towards his body. “Shit! Get off of me!” I shout wiggling around. Trying to get away. Pulling me to him I bring the knife up with me. Closing my eyes I swing to him. Right into his body. There is no give or resistance from his flesh “Oh, fuck!” he roars in pain. The knife slides in effortlessly. Letting my arm go I open my eyes. Looking up Meats is clutching his side. Blood soaking his shirt, seeping through his hands. Looking down the knife still in my hand. Blood on the blade. Oh shit. Falling to his knees his big body crumbles to the floor. “You stupid fucking bitch,” Josh screams wildly. Sheer hatred in his tone. My body goes into autopilot. Turning to him I make a bee line for him. Hate on his face. It's either him or I. And I'm sure as fuck not going to die tonight. This ends now. He doesn't retreat, doesn't take his eyes from me. Swinging the knife at him he moves out of the way. The blade missing him by inches. Snatching me up from behind he pulls my back to his front. Arms locked around my neck. Things fade away as my head grows light. The air being cut off. My focus on Josh, on ending this. My heart beats in my ears, not from fear, but from enjoyment. Enjoyment at the thought of killing Josh. For ending this sick game. “Josh,” I choke out helplessly. His arms slip a little giving me just enough space to move. Side stepping as much as I can. I move my body a foot to the right of his. Still caught in his arms I have just enough room to step an inch or two to his side. With a swift downward motion I bring the knife down with force. Inches past my side, right into his stomach. His body tightens for a moment before folding over he groans in pain. Dropping his arms away from me he goes limp. A strangled groan dribbles from his lips. Stepping away I pull the knife away with me. “Lil!” I hear it. I feel his voice in my bones. Swinging my head around I see him. Tank. My mind zeros in on life. His life. My life. Eyes running my body. “Lil! Run baby!” he calls frantically trying to wave me over. Fear in those eyes. Looking back I see Josh on his knees. Gun fire, people everywhere and all I can see is Tank. In sick a slow motion I watch Josh reach behind him. Pulling a gun from his waist he aims it at us. Tank holding a gun in his aimed at Josh. “No!” Turning around I run towards Tank. My Tank. I feel his body. Tanks skin on my skin. Arms around me. It all hits me in a rush. Four loud pops. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! A slicing burning pain radiates though me. My breath leaves me in a rush. “Lilly! Baby. ... No!” Tanks arms around me. I'm safe, I'm home. …