Chapter 5
Dash
The last kick in the ribs really knocked me out. I was still on the ground, with my hands behind my back and the chair weighing me down. How long had I been lying there?
With no water or food in sight I was beginning to feel even weaker now. I was running out of thoughts and motivation both. My body hurt. Every joint and muscle and nerve seemed to be on fire. Like someone had lit a bonfire around me and now the flames were engulfing me.
I was accustomed to a good thrashing. I might have been a prospect with the Marked Skulls, but I’d been part of a street gang since I was a teenager. I’d enjoyed my fair share of a good fight but nothing had ever felt like this before.
Now Scar-face Caesar was gone and I could have been lying there for hours without a clue of what was going to happen next. Then, just when I thought I was going to pass out again, the door opened.
I was expecting it to be Caesar. He looked like the kind of guy who would enjoy torturing a man for no reason. But it wasn’t him, instead, it was the Dark Legion guy from earlier who I’d spat on.
“Did you trip?” he asked with a laugh as he walked over to me.
“I have two left feet,” I told him, with whatever strength I still had left in me. He rolled his eyes and came over, lifting me up along with the chair.
“Some people here seem to think you need to be kept alive a little bit longer,” he said and I clenched my jaw. That could only mean one thing—that the Marked Skulls were in talks with them. Trying to negotiate my release.
Why didn’t Lewis listen to me? I told him I didn’t need their fucking help!
This guy pulled out a gun which he now pointed at me. As if I was going to do anything to him. The dumb fuck.
But then I realized he was proceeding to do something else. There was a knife in his other hand and now he was slicing the zip ties open.
“One wrong move and your brains hit the floor,” he hissed. I had no other choice but to listen to him. The door was heavily guarded. They’d already taken all my weapons away.
After my zip ties were off, he commanded me to get my ass off the chair.
“Over here!” he growled, tipping his head to the side where there was a pipe along the wall.
“Moving your legs is good for your health,” he said with a smirk, following me there. Now the knife in his hand was replaced with handcuffs. He was going to chain me to the pipe.
I said nothing, just did what I was told. I was too low on energy now to even come up with a clever retort. Every inch of my body was still aching.
After my hands were cuffed to the pipe, he stepped away from me, like he was admiring his handiwork.
“At the bottom of the pack, are you?” I asked him, sinking down to the floor. My hands remained stuck to the pipe but at least now I could rest my legs a little. The guy looked a little confused, he didn’t know what I was talking about.
“Looks like they haven’t patched you in yet,” I said, smirking now because I knew it was going to pinch his ego. I watched as he clenched his jaw.
“I’m fucking working on it. In a few weeks we will all prove ourselves and then we’ll be a part of the Hell’s Drifters. You pussies won’t know what hit you,” he said, smirking because he thought he had the upper hand.
In this situation, yes, he did. I was nothing more than a thirsty, starved and battered prisoner.
“Won’t your mama be proud!” I exclaimed and tipped my head back, resting it against the cold damp wall. I had to fight every instinctual urge in my body to not beg him for a sip of water. I could feel how chapped my lips were, how dry my skin was. I was completely dehydrated.
“You should keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” he hissed, as he started to leave again.
“I know what you mean. I just never fucking learn,” I said in a low voice, just loud enough for him to hear. He scoffed before he left me in the room again.
I blinked, trying to focus. How was I supposed to get out of here or help myself if I couldn’t even remain conscious? I could feel my body beginning to give up.
In a last ditched desperate attempt, I looked around, trying to see if I could find something to pick my handcuffs with. Nothing. I pulled at the pipe with the handcuffs. It gave way, just a little bit, barely visible to the naked eye. But I was so hungry now, I could have just been imagining it.
I slumped back down and tried to keep myself awake. The door was opening again. I didn’t know how much longer I could take of this. If someone else walked in and started giving me shit or beating me up again, this time I was going to pass out for sure.
But I wasn’t going down without a fight. I geared myself up for another showdown. I could hear the shuffling of feet and I peered, trying to see who it was. Slowly, the person came into the bright light above me and I saw her face.
It was a woman. The last thing I was expecting to see in a place like this. I was sure I was hallucinating. This couldn’t actually be fucking happening. What was a woman doing here?
***
When I first saw her walking into the light, I could have sworn I was imagining things. She had an almost ethereal quality, like she was some kind of angel. I blinked as I looked at her, squinting in the bright light. How could a woman achieve this kind of perfection?
She looked meekly up at me, with her big green eyes. Her demeanor was shy, she was too afraid to even meet my eyes. Not the kind of girl I would have imagined hanging around the Hell’s Drifters or the Dark Legion.
She had long silky looking blond hair, which fell softly like a curtain around her shoulders. She was petite, thin but with the right curves in the right places.
She was wearing a short simple black dress which revealed her long shapely legs. She was wearing ankle boots with that and a casual denim jacket. Even though she looked absolutely beautiful, there was something sad about her.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was afraid of something. Was she afraid of me? But I was chained up like an animal. Was she afraid of them?
She hadn’t said a word, she’d barely even looked at me and I already had this uncontrollable urge to protect her. She needed to be defended. I didn’t know what from.
After I’d stared at her for several moments, I finally saw the steel tray in her hands. She was carrying food. She stood in front of me for a few moments in complete silence.
It was like both of us had recognized each other, even though we’d never met before. She was afraid of me, and I was in disbelief. I had my fair share of sexy girls, girls who were more than willing to give me what I wanted, whenever I wanted.
But this one—there was something different about her. It seemed like she didn’t know what she wanted.
Before I could open my mouth to say anything, I saw her quickly putting the tray of food down on the abandoned chair. And just as quickly, she was turning away to leave.
She was going to disappear and I would never see her again. I was gripped with that thought. Or was I just hungry? I couldn’t even think straight anymore.
“Wait!” I called out, watching her go and despite how afraid she was, she stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned back around to look at me.
“You have to help me,” I said. She gulped, the color rose in her cheeks. “Help me eat, I mean,” I added.
I looked over at the handcuffs on my wrists, and a look of realization entered her eyes. I wasn’t trying to manipulate her. It was going to be impossible for me to eat with my hands tied like that. How had they not thought of this already?
But now, more than the food, I wanted her to stay so I could keep looking at her.