Page 35
The entire time we make our way over to the dumpster, I fight against his hold, praying that someone will see me, that someone will stop them. “I’d keep my strength if I were you. I like em’ to fight me a little.” He bucks his groin into my butt, and I can feel that he’s hard. I whimper which only makes him laugh.
As soon as we stop moving, I open my eyes and see that we’re in a cinderblock surrounded area. There are three substantial blue dumpsters and a small green one. The ground is littered with trash of bottles and food wrappers. The entrance is small, and from what I can tell it’s on the side so even if cars drive by, they won’t notice us.
“This is how it’s going to play out.”
He’s still holding me against his chest with his arm still wrapped about my stomach and a hand gripping my throat. I blink, trying to keep clear the tears from my eyes. When my vision finally clears, I see the group of guys standing before me. There’s five of them. Four of them are standing in a line, all wearing their black leather cuts, but the fifth guy stands off to the side. I notice that he’s only wearing a T-shirt, so that tells me he’s not part of the club. Even prospects wear a cut. I catch his eyes and mouth ‘help me,’ hoping that he’ll do something, but he only looks away.
“Tre, get your knife out and come here.”
I watch as one of the guys steps forward. He’s a brute of a man, years older than me. His thick neck strains as he sneers at me. Flipping the cover to a leather knife case that’s on his belt, he takes out the switchblade, swinging it open as he approaches. His other hand grabs at his crotch, and I can see that he’s hard. I start to struggle a little more, but it only makes the hold he has on me tighter.
“Now cut her clothes off. No need to be gentle. I like a little blood play.” As soon as he gets close enough, I jerk my head forward, connecting with his head. “Puta!, bitch,” he grunts right before his fist connects with the side of my jaw. Stars spring to my eyes as I go limp in my captor’s arms. I fight the urge to pass out, knowing that my fight or flight response has been drained. I feel tugging on my clothes, and then the cool air hit my flesh.
“You think you’re tough, puta?” he asks as he rips the cotton of my jeans. “I’ll show you tough.” The cold metal slides down my leg, removing the fabric. I cry out when I feel the blade turn and connect with my skin. “I should cut your fucking tits off and send them to your puto father.”
“Now, now, Tre. I think we’ll have more fun with her tits if we keep them intact. But you can rough her up a little more. I won’t mind.”
I watch as a smirk crosses his face, his steel eyes taunting me. I feel my ribs crunch beneath the force of his punch, and my knees buckle as I gasp for air. The arm that’s been holding me disappears and my body fall to the ground.
“Let’s do this, boys. Grab her fucking legs. Who’s first?”
All five of them hover over my naked body as I roll on the concrete. They watch, licking their lips before they descend upon me. I can feel the burn as the first guy rips through me. He grunts as I lay there, somewhere between being present and no longer being mentally there. I can feel them pull at my legs, stretching me.
“Fuck, she’s tight.”
I know that voice. I hear him grunt into my ear and my body continues to jerk back and forth with every thrust.
“I’m gonna cum in this tight pussy, puta. You’ll never be able to get rid of me. Everywhere you go, I’ll be there.”
“Get it done, Tre, we want a turn.”
And that’s what they do. They rape me, each taking their turn. All the while the man in the T-shirt stands by with clutches fists by his side. Never once does he try to help me.
Not when I call for him.
Not when I beg every time one of them landed a fist to my face.
Not when I howl as they force me on my knees and take me from behind.
He does nothing but watches as each, and every one of them covers my body with piss and cum. He doesn’t come to my aid as they have their fill and walk away. In fact, it was his pale blue eyes that I saw as I finally gave away to the darkness.
Hawk
Vengeance
Revenge
Retribution
Those words have always been at the forefront of my vocabulary for as long as I can remember. It’s the norm when you grow up in an MC. We live by vengeance. That’s what makes us feared, and being feared is something that we need to survive. Sin has wanted revenge for his sister’s death for the past seven years. He’s still so hell-bent on serving out his retribution on the man who ended her life. I never truly understood his desire until now.
Tessa has gone silent. She’s a statue next to me. I can feel her anxiety radiate from her. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to proceed. My mind is telling me to roar with anger. To rip this place apart until my need to kill has weakened. But I can’t. I can’t scare her, and I’m not going to be that man to her. I don’t care that her eyes hold so much fear every time she looks at me. I now understand the reasoning. It’s her body that tells me no matter her worries, she trusts me. I’m not going to let my anger destroy that. Not when trust is hard for her to come by.
I do the only thing I can do, I pull her towards me. Her body is rigid but once she realizes it’s me she relaxes. Goddamn, I wish I can take away her pain. “I’m so fucking sorry, Tessa.” I know the words don’t mean shit. Nothing I can say will ever make what happened to her all right. It will never be all right.
“Mommy,” Sam’s sleepy voice calls from his room.
Tessa sucks in a breath but doesn’t move from my lap. I take the initiative to get up for Sam. I place her back down on the couch. I push her hair away from her blotchy, tear-streaked face. She’s still distraught, and I know the last thing she wants is for her son to see her like this.
