Claimed
Ugh. Ouch. Everything hurts. Every centimeter of my body is in pain. Slowly, I start to stretch, attempting to open my eyes. They are tight, though; they won’t open. Panic fills me as I reach up and touch my face.
Tentatively, I feel around to find my head wrapped in what feels like gauze and bandages on my left cheek. My mouth feels puffy, even on the inside. The taste of old blood mixes with my saliva as all my senses go into overdrive. My anxiety grows as my breathing becomes more erratic. Why does everything hurt?
“Breathe, baby. I need you to breathe.”
“Shooter?” I ask, recognizing his voice.
“Yeah, I’m right here.” His words are soft, somehow soothing as the fear continues to escalate.
“Shooter, where am I? What happened?”
“You’re at my house.”
“Wait, your house? Where is Axel?”
Oh, my goodness, was I in an accident in Shooter’s car? Is Axel okay? Is he worried about me? Does my mom know where I am? Has someone called her? Who would know to call her? She must be worried sick.
I am reaching around into thin air around me as I still can’t open my eyes. Large hands come around my wrists gently, pulling my hands down onto my stomach. I’m still lying flat in a bed.
“Axel is with your mom and your aunt. They know you’re okay,” he calmly answers me as he releases my wrists.
“Why am I here?” I question, needing to know what has happened.
As he sighs, a delicate, soft hand squeezes my right hand. Instinctively, I jump. How many people are here? I strain to hear more of what is around me. Aren’t your other instincts supposed to be more in tune when you lose your sight? Why can I not figure out what is going on? Damn it, I need answers.
“It’s me, Tessie. What do you remember?” Doll asks, as she starts to pull her hand out of mine. Knowing it is her, I squeeze, pulling her hand back into mine.
Think, Tessie. Last night or tonight—I don’t exactly know what time it is—I went to work. It was busy. Rex was there. He was being an ass. The bar closed.
The bar closed…
I suck in my breath, my body starting to shake uncontrollably as the memories invade. The smell. My God, the smell of that man: oil, cigarettes, whiskey, and leather.
Before I can react, the meager contents of my stomach cover my hands and the bed around me.
The bed shifts beside me as Doll pulls her hand away, undoubtedly to clean it.
I can’t stop trembling. He touched me. I hurt; oh, how I hurt. My breathing is coming in pants as the night floods my mind. Dirty. He was so dirty. I am so filthy. His hands, his mouth, his tongue—he was all over me. The dry heaves begin as I have nothing left to vomit, but I cannot control my stomach’s revolt.
“Doll, run a bath,” I hear Shooter say.
Gagging, I begin to choke causing my breathing to become even more strenuous. I feel his arms rest on either side of me in the bed without touching me.
“Please, breathe, baby. Inhale,” he whispers gently. “Exhale... Inhale… Exhale.”
I take my strength from him, following his commands to get my breathing under control. One breath at a time that is how you survive. When you can’t handle looking so far ahead, think only of one more breath. I feel the wetness of my tears as they escape my swollen eyes and fall down my swollen cheeks.
“We gotta clean you up. Doll is gonna help you. After that, Doc will tend to your wounds. She came last night, stitched your head and checked you out.”
“What time is it?” I croak out on a choke.
“Two in the afternoon,” Shooter replies in a matter of fact tone, devoid of all emotion.
“Axel,” I whisper.
“Baby, he’s fine. Remember, your mom and aunt have him. They don’t know what happened, just that you are exhausted and need to rest today.”
I nod my head. The pain in my body consumes my thoughts as I sit here covered in vomit and unable to see.
Push through it, Tessie, I coach myself. I survived, right? He didn’t kill me. Hurt me, yes, but I’m alive.
“I gotta pick you up, Tessie. Doll’s gonna help you undress. Doc says the swelling will go down, and then you’ll be able to open your eyes and see. Until then, Doll will handle dressing and undressing you. I promise I won’t be in the room. No men, baby. You’re safe now.”
His concern for my modesty and security is evident as he has yet to harshly touch me or make a sudden movement. My emotional reserve is empty; as a result, I find my calm in Shooter, nodding my head in understanding.
After a bath, with help from Doll, Doc Kelly checks my wounds. She applies some goo to my eyelids to help keep my eyes moisturized while the swelling continues to go down. My nose will have a nasty bump and may possibly need to be reset later, but until the swelling goes down, she can’t tell for sure without x-rays. I have vaginal and anal tears that will be uncomfortable as they heal, but much like having a baby, they will be fine in time. Moreover, my concussion will have lasting effects for a while, but eventually, the headaches will go away.
Yes, they all offered to take me to the hospital for treatment if I would feel more comfortable, but that is not going to happen. For me, that would mean answering questions, which would be talking about it and remembering it. I just want to forget. Move on. Wait for the next hit from life.
Mercy could have stepped in to save me last night, yet she didn’t. It is more than obvious she has no plans to cut me any slack in the future, either.
Doc Kelly continues to check me over, spouting off healing times and instructions. She belongs to Head Case. She met him in med school, only he went into mental health while she went into emergency medicine. How they became affiliated with the Hellions, I do not know. She doesn’t share, and I don’t ask. Honestly, I don’t care who treats my external wounds. I have to find a way to get healed and get home to my son. I survived my attack; this is just yet another bump in the road, right?
When Tripp calls a sermon, every patched member is in attendance. Boomer is prospecting after my nomination last year, so he is standing outside the cave. I hold no officer position; therefore, I sit in one of the seats along the wall of the tiny space. Tripp takes his seat at the head of the table with Rex, our charter VP, at his right.
The gavel slams down as Tripp calls the meeting to open. He doesn’t hold back as he begins, “Tessie was attacked at Ruthless last night.”
While gasps and swears fill the air, Rex sits in his chair unmoving, his face never changing as the words sink in throughout the club members that weren’t part of the clean-up last night.
“It was Shep from the Desert Ghosts that assaulted her,” Tripp adds. “She was closing up alone. Shooter got there to trade his car with hers and found them. He managed to shoot Shep twice and get Tessie out of there, but by the time the boys got to Ruthless for cleanup, Shep had escaped. We’ve got the stockroom back to normal for Bob, but we have no word on Shep.”
I shoot up out of my chair, unable to control myself. “What the fuck do you mean Shep got away?”
“Just what the fuck I said, Shooter. Now sit your ass down,” Tripp orders.
Head Case tugs on my forearm to pull me back down to my seat.
“Tessie’s not property,” Kix speaks up, “so how is this club business?”
“You have got to be kiddin’ me,” I mutter. “Not property? Tessie’s motherfuckin’ family. How many of you has she called someone for or taken you home herself because you were too drunk to ride? Not property! She serves every single one of us, at least, weekly. Ruthless is Hellions’, and we protect what’s ours.”
“Ruthless is not Hellions’. Bob won’t allow it,” Tripp adds, his face stern. “I can’t make the call to Thorn to hand over Shep. Tessie isn’t ours, technically.”
Not thinking, I storm over and pull Rex out of his chair before anyone can react. I pin him to the wall, breathing heavily, eye to eye with him as he grabs at my wrists, trying to relieve the pressure I’ve got on his throat.
“Claim her, fucker. Claim her!”
I let up just enough for him to make the statement. He doesn’t. Instead, he kicks out at me. The shift causes me to let up more, giving him a chance to get room to swing. His fist connects with my jaw. My balance thrown off, I release him. Then, getting myself together, I hit him with an uppercut to the gut. He hunches over, trying to catch his breath, and I take the opportunity, reaching up and pinning him back to the wall, my forearm not closing his windpipe because he is still recovering.
“Enough,” Tripp commands.
Spitting the blood out of my mouth at his feet, I give him the biggest disrespect I can in this situation before backing away, watching him for his next move as I return to my seat. Not one of my brothers has moved.
“You gonna claim her, Rex?” Tripp questions his cousin and VP.
He meets my stare as he shakes his head back and forth. “No, I’m not gonna claim her. She’s not my property. She’s not Hellions’ property.”
“Not property. You’ve been tappin’ that pussy for years, Rex. Motherfuckin’ years! And she’s not once been with anyone else that you know of. She’s been loyal to you. Where were you last night? Every time she has needed you, where the fuck have you been? Man up, protect her. For once in your damn life, step up for someone else!” I shout at Rex.
“Fuck you. What the hell do you know about my history with Tessie?”
“Shut the fuck up, both of you. Is someone gonna claim Tessie today?” Tripp looks to me before he can finish his next sentence, the sentence where I know he will tell us all we can’t do anything for her.
Before I can think about what the hell I am doing, I speak up, “I claim her. She’s my ol’ lady.”
“You sure? I haven’t called Roundman yet to see if there is something else we can do for her,” Tripp asks.
“I know the rules to this world, the spoken and the unspoken. Ruthless isn’t club owned. Tessie isn’t claimed. We can’t seek retribution when she’s not ours on a fuckin’ technicality. Don’t call Roundman, just let Thorn know she’s mine and it’s on him to give us Shep.”
“I know you got a lot on your plate, Shooter, but that doesn’t dismiss your actions in here today. Disrespect of an officer won’t be tolerated. Once we get Shep handled, we will revisit this. You got me?”
“I got you. Wouldn’t change a damn thing, so dish out your punishment accordingly.”
Well, I would change shit. I would beat the ever loving shit out of Rex if I could. My brothers would never allow it, though. No, I am lucky they let me get him into the wall.
Tripp was there at my house last night with Doll. He saw first-hand what Tessie looked like before Doll and Doc Kelly got her cleaned up. If he hadn’t been there, I am certain I wouldn’t have been allowed any leniency to get my hands on Rex.
There is an almost unnoticeable chin lift by Tripp to me, his eyes showing respect and understanding for what this is doing to me. Tripp is Catawba club prez; he knows my history. He knows it claws at my insides to watch a strong, beautiful woman be destroyed while I sit helplessly on the sidelines.