Even though Tag was now conscious, when he opened his mouth to speak, no noise escaped. But when the tip of the blade pierced Tag’s flesh, separating his skin as Cutter moved the knife diagonally over his torso, Tag’s eyes popped open, and a pained groan hurdled through the air, deepening but getting louder with each inch of parted flesh.
His arms and legs thrashed against his restraints, his eyes pleading with me, then Kaden, before Cutter finally lifted the knife. Blood dripped down Tag’s side and over the edge of the table. The cut wasn’t deep like a puncture wound, but it wasn’t superficial either.
“Please,” Tag finally mumbled, his hands squeezing into fists while his chest rose and fell faster and faster.
“Please what?” Hawke asked. “Please kill me fast? Is that what you want?”
Tag vigorously shook his head, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose before looking at us again.
“I don’t… don’t under… stand. Please….”
I turned so my back was to Tag and stared at our president, hoping he would reconsider his plan for disposing of someone I’d come to call a friend of sorts.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not,” he said, baring his teeth when he spoke. “He’s Vex’s son. I have proof.”
“So what?”
“So what?” he roared, gripping me up by my cut and pulling me so close the sight of him in front of me blurred. “Did you not hear what Vex did to my wife?” He shoved me back so hard I almost fell on my ass but caught myself at the last second, my arm swinging out and knocking into Jagger. “I’m gonna end the fucker’s lineage tonight.”
3
I huddled in the darkened corner of his room, fearful he’d come back for more once he finished partying with the others. Cowering had become my new normal, a way to protect myself against the blows that would come from either his fists or booted foot.
The turn of the handle and the creak of the hinge pricking my ears made my breath stutter, all while my heart hammered away at such a furious pace, I feared the muscle would arrest any second. Soft illumination from the hallway surrounded his silhouette as he stood in the doorway. I saw his weathered brown boot first, then his jean-clad leg, my eyes traveling upward until his entire form came into view.
He flicked on a light, the obtrusion blinding at first. “What happened this time?” he asked, pulling my arm away from my face. His touch wasn’t rough like the others, but I flinched, nonetheless. “What did you do, Maddie?”
“I didn’t move fast enough.” Pike, whose real name was Cody, although I was warned not to call him that for fear someone might hear, shook his head, the pity in his eyes when he looked down on me enough to make my bottom lip tremble with sadness. The prospect of this club was the only one who was nice to me, when he could get away with it. If his friends were present, he treated me much like they did, without physically hurting me. His words were harsh yet dismissive. He told me he couldn’t show weakness in front of them because he’d pay for it, already had when he tried to interfere on my behalf my first night here. They beat him bloody before threatening his life if he ever chose pussy over them again.
While Pike was the reason I was here in the first place, I didn’t blame him for what his buddies did to me. I’d met him soon after stepping off the bus, and although his tattoos and leather vest should have warned me he was dangerous, I ignored my instincts when he’d smiled at me.
They didn’t have guys like him back home in Oklahoma, not where I grew up, at least. I’d been sheltered my entire life. The mere mention of boys sending my pastor father on one of his tirades about how I was to stay away from them, to never bring shame on our family by acting inappropriately. The entire spiel about saving myself until marriage ran on a constant loop anytime he saw me smile at someone of the opposite sex, whenever I was fortunate enough to encounter a boy at the grocery store or even in our church.
Pike walked into the adjacent bathroom and turned on the faucet before returning and crouching down beside me. “Let me see.” I didn’t bother to say no because my protest would be useless. He lifted my head upward and placed the wet towel over the corner of my mouth. When he pulled it back to adjust the cloth, I saw the red stain. My tongue drifted over the cut, and I winced, like I’d done right after Griller, who was the leader of these bastards, punched me in the mouth earlier. He placed the towel back on my lip and held it there for a few seconds more. He heard me inhale, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “Sorry.”
I looked into his eyes and saw not only pity but a flash of guilt as well. After all, it was because of him I was now a prisoner of the Savage Reapers, his club.
After a few more awkward and silent moments, I pushed his hand away and slowly stood. When he reached out to help me, I slid my palm into his, the warmth of his hand providing a fleeting comfort.
“Do you want somethin’ to eat?” he asked, tossing the washcloth on top of the cluttered dresser before shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re wastin’ away, Maddie.”
“So?” A flash of fury wafted over me. “Maybe I’ll die sooner than I prayed to.” I shuffled toward the bed and sat on the edge, even though resting anywhere near this mattress was the last place I wanted to be. But it wasn’t like I could waltz out of Griller’s room and flit about the club, or even dare to venture outside.
No, the rules were simple.
Stay put unless otherwise told.
My previously fractured wrist proof of my momentary lapse in obedience.
“I don’t know how to help you,” he whispered when he edged closer, glancing back toward the door before returning his attention to me.
“You could help me escape.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him to sit beside me. Pike didn’t make me fear him like the others did. He’d only hit me when forced to do so. While his slap had stung, the force with which he struck me was mild, compared to everyone else’s.
He tugged his arm away but kept his eyes steady on mine. “They’ll know it was me.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry but I… I can’t.”
I nodded, understanding that he wasn’t gonna put his life in danger for me. A tear fell down my cheek, then another. I turned away from him when he tried to wipe my face with his thumb.
He stood moments later, wrapping his fingers around the handle of the bedroom door.
“Most of the guys are too drunk to stand, so I think you’re safe from them tonight.”
“But not from him.”
“Probably not. But one is better than five,” he said, his statement intended to comfort me in a strange sort of way.
Without another word, he left, taking with him any ounce of hope I had, albeit delusional, about forming a plan to escape.
When my eyes drifted closed sometime later, I dreamed of the stifled and bubbled life I’d had back home, and wished I’d known then that my life had been a dream.
Now… it was a nightmare.
4
“We gonna drag this out, Prez?” Cutter shouted, gripping the large knife tightly in his hand, his eyes glazing over as if he enjoyed slicing into Tag.