Chapter Two
RO
“Come on.” I say over my shoulder to the men walking up to our old clubhouse; my .9 already drawn as I move into the back door. Renegade and Venom spread to the right while Enya and Wreck move to the left. Tally, Top and I go straight into the chapel.
Hesitating as we make our way through the house towards the office, my feet causing creaking of the floorboards. I almost wish that it would have been an instant fire-fight. Instead of waiting every second for someone to pop out.
We quietly move into the office, turning the lock into place before him and Tally slide the VP desk in front of the door. It’s still eerily quiet on the other side of the wall. There’s no damn way that J just left this place completely empty… who knows what could happen.
“It’s not here.” I mumble to myself. A knock rasps twice before they slide the desk back from barricading the door. Looks like fucking J found the remaining money in the office, I can only hope that he didn’t find the other hiding place.
It’s a part of my past that I just can’t seem the shake. The worrying about keeping a hold of your things, hiding what you want to keep, hoping that no one else will find them.
The woes of growing up in foster care. Hide your prized possessions.
Walking through the house and up the stairs to the Prez’s suite. I stare at the door, which I spent so many nights and did so many fucked up things behind. Slowly I open the door.
I see a body in the bed, and I freeze, by the size alone I’m sure it’s not J which means that it isn’t something that I need to worry about. I can overtake the pint-sized thing, she may not make it easy, but I’m sure I have close to a hundred pounds on her.
Moving closer to the side of the bed, I see the small frame lying in the bed. A mess of blonde hair scattered round her almost as if it’s a halo. In any other setting, she may look like an angel. But in this bed, I know she’s probably closer to a succubus, something that nightmares are made of. The yellowish coloring from around her eye catches my attention first. J obviously has taken some frustrations out on her face… which pisses me off. I get it that most of us in this lifestyle want so hard to be taken as tough, and have everyone afraid of them, but hitting the woman you’re screwing is un-fucking-acceptable.
But what do I know, I’ve learned over the course of my life that they could have a toxic ass relationship. She may hit back, or hit first, and if that’s their thing then fuck it. No kink shaming by me, we all have our own shit. I mean, it could be their love language, physical touch. I do however feel like the yellowish hue of the bruise still around her eye is indication that it was a deep bruise, which definitely seems to be pushing the realms of the whole ‘I enjoy it’.
“Hey.” I nudge her shoulder, but she doesn’t move. Her cheeks are sunken in and the bruise around her eye is the most color in her face. I’m not even sure that she’s breathing. “Shit.” I mutter before my knees press into the bed and I reach over placing my fingers along her neck trying to see if she’s fucking stiff.
I jump slightly as her eyes shoot open, turning to stare at me.
I’ve seen that look in eyes too many times to count. She’s awake but she’s not coherent. “Where’s J?” I ask her, but she doesn’t answer me, just continues to stare.
She can’t be more than 25… such a shame that she’s wasting her youth on drugs, but I get it… we’ve all been there.
Okay, maybe not all of us, butIfucking get it.
“Where’s J?” I ask her for a second time. She pushes herself up. Backing myself up, I give her space as she looks around the room, still no recollection in her eyes. I’m not even sure if she knows where she is. “Do you know where you are?”
When she finally looks back at me, her eyes are sad as she looks down. “Vaguely.” Her voice sounds nearly hoarse and definitely filled in shame.
“What’s your name?” Her eyes squint slightly as if she’s trying to remember her name this time. What the hell is she on? “You’ve got to be shitting me.” I mutter to myself as I step off the bed. She’s still looking at me confused as I move into the closet causing her look to grow, because she’s aware that I’m not supposed to be here. I cannot deal with her right fucking now. I need to get this shit and get the hell out before J gets back, before any of them get back.
“What are you doing?” She asks, quietly, as she moves to the closet doorway, I hesitate for a second as I question whether I should let this junkie bitch watch me reveal the hiding spot that I hope, like fuck, J never found. Whatever, either it’s there or it’s not and whichever way it won’t be there later for the junkie to get. I glance over at the doorway, for the first time realizing that she is naked, except for a thin pair of sheer black panties, in front of me.
“Jesus, put some fucking clothes on.”
She doesn’t budge, just continues to stare at me until she moves into the closet even closer. Looking down at the ground and shaking my head as she kneels down next to where the floorboard will come up. “Does J know you’re here?” Her voice still raspy, I’m not sure if it’s just from her hung over state or if it always sounds like that. Either way, it seems to be having an effect on me.
“No.” I say to her, and her eyes widen. I can see the fear in them when she mentions him, and it races across her face as I tell her that he’s has no idea that I’m here. Something about her eyes though, draws me in. “Do you want to be here?” I ask her and she blinks several times before she looks over at me.
“What?”
“Are you here, willingly?” I’m not sure why the hell I’m asking her or why the hell I care. Her eyes widen, almost as if she’s shocked to hear me concerned about her.
“Ye—” She starts, almost instantly like it’s a programmed response, and stops herself. Looking up, she locks eyes with me and stops, sighing out, before she finishes. “I—I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Do you want to leave?”
