Chapter 3
Dash
The guy from the Dark Legion was still standing over me, the collar of my shirt was in his hand and he was tugging at it, peering into my face.
“It’s a pity. So young. So little experience,” he murmured almost to himself. I was debating whether to spit in his face again but he didn’t give me a chance this time. He punched my jaw anyway and my face snapped to the side from the force.
I coughed out blood.
“That’ll teach you to show some respect to the people keeping you alive,” he growled and cracked his knuckles. My throat was as dry as bone and I could feel my stomach contracting from pain and hunger. He spat out on the floor by his feet and then, still cracking his knuckles, he turned and started walking to the door again.
Keeping me alive. I didn’t want to stay alive. The longer I lived, the longer I remained a liability for the Marked Skulls.
I heard the door slam and then the sound of a lock in a key. Just tying me up to this chair wasn’t enough, they were making sure I had no chance of escaping.
I could feel blood trickling from wounds on my face. My lip was swelling up from the impact of that fucker’s hand on my jaw. If I was in pain I couldn’t feel it anymore. It all felt the same to me now. Wounds, bruises, cuts, blood, headache, hunger. I was resolved to the idea that this was the end of my life. This was how I was going to die.
The only way this could remotely be a sweet death was by knowing that Kaya and the baby were okay, that her friend Melody was okay too.
My instinctual reaction to be free made me wriggle my hands in those zip ties over and over again, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Not unless I was able to rip my hands out of the ties and cut through the bones somehow. I considered it for a moment. The pain would be nothing compared to the helplessness of just sitting here and doing nothing.
The guy had said my friends were looking for me. That was the worst news he could have given me. I didn’t want them to come looking for me. I didn’t want them to give up any of their territory for me. I was nothing. I was nobody. Just a prospect and I had already let Oz and Lewis down.
I pulled at the zip ties again, not because I expected it to work this time, but because I wanted to feel that pain again.
Then I heard the key in the lock. The door was opening and I looked up, preparing myself for the next assault.
***
The man who came in this time didn’t have the Dark Legion patch on his cut. He belonged to the Hell’s Drifters. We had gotten intel earlier that the two MCs were now working together, so I wasn’t surprised to see him here.
He walked slowly towards me now, his boots crunched on the floor as he wrapped a bandage around his knuckles. It was a bloodied bandage—from his bleeding knuckles or was it blood from punching someone else?
“Your friend from the Dark Legion was here to see me earlier, we had a nice chat. He told me about his hopes and dreams,” I said, beginning the conversation.
When his face came into the light the other guy had left on, I saw the long scar that stretched right across his face diagonally.
“I’m sure you did,” he hissed and stood over me, winding and unwinding that bandage again. It seemed like it was just one of his habits.
“So, this is how low the Hell’s Drifters have sunk, cohabiting with the scum. Dark Legion. Those pussies.”
He snarled as he glared at me.
“And what do you know about pussies? You’re just a boy,” he said and then laughed at his own joke. Or rather what he thought was a good joke.
I was already too drained and exhausted, and trying hard to keep my eyes wide open.
“I know what your mama taught me,” I replied and his punch hit me hard across the face. He squared his shoulders and took a step back. For a moment I felt like I’d dislocated my jaw.
“You think you and the rest of your MC are so smart, pitting us against each other. We’re going to grow in number by patching in the Dark Legion to our club,” he growled, adjusting his bandages again.
“I didn’t see my friend earlier with your patch,” I said and he shrugged.
“Some of them still need to prove themselves. Just because they want a piece of our pie doesn’t mean we’re going to give it to them that easily,” he said.
“Very wise. You must be an intelligent man,” I said and sniggered, because that sounded really funny to me.
Scar-face knew I was mocking him and he rushed up to me again.
“You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, motherfucker,” he growled and this time his punch landed on my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.
As soon as I was able to recover my breathing, I smirked at him again.
“You should tell your mother the same thing,” I said and he growled and came at me again.
“You are fucking dead. A few more days. We get the territory and then you are a fucking dead man!”
He punched my face again and this time I fell over. My body thudded on the floor, along with the chair I had been tied to. I could feel my bones vibrating from the impact. It was a nasty fall and I started seeing black. I thought I was going to pass out.
But, I didn’t pass out and scar-face pulled at my chair and straightened me up again.
“You keep up that talk and maybe we won’t keep you alive till tomorrow,” he hissed in my face. Good. That was exactly what I wanted. To piss them off to the extent that they finished me off. That way the Marked Skulls wouldn’t have to trade with them for my life.
It was the least I could do for all the ways that I had failed them.
“I’d do anything for another touch from you, handsome,” I said, with a smile stretching my lips. His eyes were bloodshot now. It was pissing him off to see that no matter how much he beat the shit out of me, I was still laughing at him.
He growled before he kicked me in the ribs.
“Motherfucker!” I shouted out in pain as I fell back down on the ground, dragging the chair along with me. If only my hands were free. This pussy wouldn’t win an actual fight against me if the field was level.
He was about to punch me again when the door to the room opened again.
“Caesar!” the guy at the door yelled. Scar-face, or Caesar, cursed under his breath, stopping himself in time from kicking me again. He turned and went up to the door and I could hear the two of them talking.
I was lying sideways on the floor now, my hands still tied to my back. I tried to even my breathing so I could listen more closely.
“The fuck is this shit?” Caesar growled at the other guy.
“They want to speak to him. It’s the only way they’ll go through with it.”
They were talking in whispers. I knew what they were saying. It was the Marked Skulls on the phone. Scar-face cursed some more and headed towards me, he had a phone in his hand now.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” he hissed and crouched down on the ground to hold the phone to my ear.
“Dash!”
It was Lewis’ voice at the other end. The president of our MC. He sounded worried.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Don’t come looking for me.”
I realized then how weak I sounded.
“Are they beating you up?” Lewis was shouting over the phone.
“Don’t come looking for me.”
“Where are they holding you?”
Before I could say anything more, Scar-face had pulled the phone away from my ear and ended the call.
“Feel better, motherfucker?” he growled and before he walked away from me, he kicked me in the ribs again. I was pretty sure they were cracking under his boots now.
I could barely move.
He walked up to the door.
“Straighten him up,” he hissed to his buddy and then left the room.
I glared at the door, breathing hard, blood and sweat dripping down my face. I hoped Lewis got the message. That he understood. I didn’t want them to come looking for me.
I’d gotten myself in this mess and if I was going to come out of this alive, I’d make my own way out.