Peyton

More than anything, I wanted to scrub myself with soap and water. I needed the filth washed away. All of it. I feared I would never be clean again, regardless of how hard I scrubbed.

“Let me call an ambulance,” Pete said. “Please. You need…you need to be checked out.”

I fastened my bra and tried desperately to button my shirt, but there were no buttons. My eyes dropped to the floor. Scattered about, the small pieces of faux shell littered the floor surrounding the booth.

“I’m okay.” I rubbed my hand against my swollen lip. “I’ll be okay.”

I knelt down, picked them up, and stood. I gazed blankly into the palm of my hand, wishing they were where they belonged. I noticed my torn panties on the bench where Navarro and I had been sitting just days before.

I clutched the broken buttons and reached for my panties. “Do you have a trash can?”

He nodded. “There’s one by the bar.”

I walked to the trash can and dropped my panties inside. When I returned, I crawled under the table and retrieved my purse. After dropping the broken buttons inside, I grabbed the recorder and turned it off.

“You’re in shock,” Pete said.

“No. I’m okay, really.” I wanted to rewind the recorder and make sure it recorded everything, but I wasn’t ready to listen to it. Not yet.

The sound of a motorcycle’s exhaust caused me to flinch. It seemed something I had yearned to hear only hours before had somehow become repulsive, and I didn’t like it. I peered out the window just in time to see Navarro and Pee Bee pulling up to the front of the bar.

“Navarro’s here. I uhhm.” I tugged against the sides of my shirt, attempting –to pull them together, but couldn’t. I held the two pieces of material, concealing my bra from sight, and then remembered I had worn a blazer.

I searched the floor, found my jacket, and slipped my arms through it. Remarkably, it was unharmed. Methodically, I fastened the buttons, yet still felt slightly undressed when I was finished.

I brushed the lint from my skirt and tossed my hair. “No ambulance. I’ll be fine. I need a drink. Maybe get us three beers?”

Navarro and Pee Bee came rushing in. Pete turned toward the door and met them halfway. Navarro ran past him, and came where I was standing. Pee Bee stood at Pete’s side and talked to him while Navarro looked me over.

I gazed at him, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, and then realized I didn’t have my heels.

He pressed his hands against my shoulders and held me steady. “What happened?”

I wished I didn’t have to tell him. Sooner or later he’d find out for sure, but I just didn’t want to have to talk about it. Not to him.

“Peyton,” he squeezed my shoulders in his hands. “What happened?”

“Four of them. Whip, Panda, Lowbrow and Taffy. They uhhm.” My eyes began to well with tears. I pointed to the portion of my shirt that the blazer didn’t cover. I fought to swallow, eventually did, and continued. “They…”

I pointed to the trash can. “I put my panties in the trash.”

He pulled me into his chest and held me tight. “I’m sorry. Believe me, they’ll…I’ll make sure that they…” His voice faltered, then he cleared his throat. “Did Pete call an ambulance?”

“I don’t need one.”

He looked into my eyes. “You need to see a doctor.”

I nodded. “I will. I’ll get checked out. But I’m not calling the police. I don’t want them involved. I want…”

I wanted to tell him to take care of it, but couldn’t put the responsibility on him to do so. I wished he would volunteer, and explain to me in detail how he would make them pay for what they did to me.

Pee Bee walked to Navarro’s side, inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled into the palms of his hands. “Pete said it was Whip, Panda, Taffy, and someone else, but he wasn’t sure.”

“Lowbrow,” I said flatly.

“You sure?”

I nodded. “Positive.”

“Already called Ryder,” he said. “Cholo and a bunch of the fellas were at his place. They’re on their way now. You stay here with her.”

Navarro released me and turned to face Pee Bee. “I’m going. I’m gonna kill every motherfucking one of ‘em. Real god damned slow.”

Pee Bee shook his head. “Somebody’s got to stay with her.”

“This is my fight, god damn it. Mine,” Navarro seethed. “And I’m gonna fight it.”

“You want him to stay?” Pee Bee asked. “Here with you?”

I nodded. “Uh huh.”

“You don’t want him to leave?”

I wrapped my arms around Navarro and pulled him into me. “I’d rather he stay, please.”

Pee Bee folded his massive arms on front of his chest and sighed. “I’m the Sergeant-At-Arms of this club. It’s my job to protect what’s ours, at any cost. Like it or not, she testified for you, and this is the price she’s paid for it. The club owes her. The club needs to protect her. I’m goin’ for these motherfuckers, and I ain’t stoppin’ till I got ‘em.” He turned around until his back faced us. “Either let me get ‘em, or cut off my fuckin’ patch.”

Oh, wow.

“You know good and god damned well I’m not cuttin’ off your patch,” Navarro growled.

“It’s settled, then. You’re stayin’, and I’m goin’.”

Navarro leaned over and rested his head on my shoulder. His warm breath on my neck made me smile. His strong arms provided assurance that I was safe from harm as long as he was near.

“I want ‘em to pay.”

Pee Bee nodded. “They will.”

“Be careful,” I said. “Panda’s got a gun.”

He laughed a dry laugh. “Me? Shit. Make me up one of those cranberry drinks. A double. I’ll be over to drink it before the fuckin’ ice melts.”

I lifted my head. “Promise?”

A thunderous rumble rattled the windows of the bar. The sound continued for some time, almost resembling a passing train. I peered outside. Side-by-side, motorcycles pulled into the lot, one row after another. A string of headlights as far as I could see filled the road leading to the bar. It seemed it was never going to end.

In no time, the lot was filled with bikes.

Completely filled.

And, it wasn’t just FFMC’s men.

Pee Bee bent down, looked through the window, then stood up. “We’re gonna roll, Boss.”

Navarro cleared his throat. “Who else you call?”

“Hell On Earth and The Dragons. We’re rolling about fifty deep, Boss.”

“God damn you,” Navarro said with a laugh. “We didn’t need to--”

“You want my job?” Pee Bee interrupted. “Start wearin’ my patch. Until you do, you be the President. I’ll be the Sergeant-At-Arms.”

The door opened and twenty or so men came in, all wearing leather vests. Two massive men came to our side and stood, each crossing their arms in front of their chests as they positioned themselves beside us.

“What’s shakin’, motherfuckers?” Pee Bee asked.

Each of the men hugged Pee Bee and patted him on the back. “Good to see you, Brother,” one said.

“Tiny.” Navarro nodded to the man on the left. “Big Frank,” he said to the other.

“Crip,” they said in unison.

Pee Bee turned toward the door.

“Pee Bee,” I shouted.

He turned around.

“Promise me you’ll be careful?”

He turned around, clenched his fist, and extended his arm.

I pounded my fist into his. “I’ll have that drink waiting.”

He walked away, and Navarro held me in his arms. As the walls and windows once again began to shake, I watched them leave. Two at a time, fifty motorcycle’s taillights rode away from the bar and into the street. Each stood as a reminder that someone was going to pay dearly for what happened to me.

But nothing would ever be enough.