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"Pres, do we know for sure that he was a mole?" Barrel fluffed up his green hair and yawned like he was fucking bored. "I mean, maybe he is just a pussy that decided to hop to another club when he was kicked out. What's better than to go straight to our rivals when he's licking his wounds."
I raised an eyebrow. "And the Boogeyman just let him in with arms wide open?"
"Sure, it seems suspect, but," he shrugged, "punk ass bitches do shit like that all the time."
It was Shock that spoke up at Barrel's words. "I will dig so deep into his background that I'll know what time his momma takes a shit every day. This fuck up won't happen again."
I stared back at him, and he met my heavy stare without flinching. "I know it won't, Shock." The barely concealed threat hung in the air as the rest of the Devil's Nightmares held their collective breaths.
ChapterThirteen
SALLY
Ihad the night off from the bar, and not knowing what to do with myself, I spent the last couple of hours at the local library. Considering how small the town was, it was a lot larger than I had expected.
I browsed through all the usual sections I went for, pulling out books of my favorite go-to authors. Then, my fingers trailed across a title that had me pausing. Slipping the book out of the tight space, I flipped it over to look at the cover. My face heated, and I glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention, not that they would know where my mind went as I held the motorcycle club romance.
The man on the cover stared back at me as he straddled his bike, his leather cut open over a naked chest. He was hot in that cover model sort of way. But I couldn't help but superimpose his image with a different one. One that was tall, handsome in a scary way, and literally covered in tattoos. I flipped the book over to read the blurb on the back, knowing that I was going to be reading it no matter what the story was about.
After a quick scan of the blurb, I tucked the book between two of the others I had already grabbed and made my way to the checkout desk, unable to slow my steps in my haste to get back to the motel room and start reading. There was no question about which book I would be diving into first.
I set the small stack of books on the counter and gave a small smile from behind my hair at the elderly woman who had helped me get set up with a library card. I kept my head down, using my hair as the shield it had become in the last few months.
"Found some good books, dear?" She quickly started scanning the books, and I couldn't help the relieved sigh that left me when I noticed she only gave each book a cursory glance. I wasn't ashamed of my chosen reading material, but it felt like there was a neon sign over my head letting everyone know that I was a hussy crushing on the local motorcycle club president.
It didn't seem like the town was overly fearful of the club. In fact, I had gotten the impression that they appreciated the club's presence in town. There was a noticeable lack of petty crime that I was sure was attributed to the club keeping the riff-raff out. While working at the bar, it had become evident that they didn't like anyone who came into their territory and caused problems.
"Thank you," I murmured as I scooped up the books and placed the receipt she handed me in the top book to use as a bookmark. It was a helpful reminder when they were due back. After sliding them into my bag, I kept my head down and exited the library, hoping that preventing eye contact would deter others from attempting to speak to me.
My stomach growled, making me realize exactly how much time I had spent browsing the shelves. I spotted the deli I had eaten at a few other times, noticing it was still open. It would be a quick, filling dinner, plus they had premade sandwiches, which meant more avoidance. The bell jingled merrily when I pushed open the door that had hand-painted jack-o'lanterns on the glass door. The decor in the town was typical of Halloween, family-friendly, and fun. Honestly, I wondered if they ever got tired of the same theme year-round. But then again, there were several towns around the country that were dedicated to Christmas, so why not Halloween?
After perusing the available premade sandwiches in the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water, I walked my purchases up to the counter, where a bored looking teenager was playing with her phone. Without even looking up once, she gave me my total, and I was out of the door before my anxiety even had a chance to spike.
I tucked the bag with the sandwich under my arm and looked up to the sky, breathing in the fresh evening air. It was something I had missed while living in Los Angeles. In Kentucky, we had more open spaces. You could see the stars and breathe unpolluted air. In L.A., there was a layer of brown smog covering the city. While I lived there, I considered that it was a trade-off, something I had to live with in order to chase my dreams. Somehow, I let myself forget. Being here in Utah, I realized it was just one more thing that hadn't been worth it. It wasn't that I had just given up on my dream of being an actress, but I had definitely second-guessed what I really wanted in life.
I filled my lungs with the clean air and let it out slowly as I contemplated my future. I had no destination; I couldn't see the outcome anymore, and I let the wave of melancholy sweep over me. I sighed while cracking open the bottle of water and continued on my way back to the motel that I could see up ahead. I raised the cold water to my mouth and then cried out as the bottle fell from my hands.
At first, I didn't know what had happened. I was in a weird state of confusion as I looked down at the ground, the amount of water inside the bottle getting smaller, the puddle of water growing larger, engulfing the bag with the sandwich in it that I hadn't even realized had fallen as well. It wasn't until my back was thrown against a wall, my head hitting hard enough to see stars, that my brain started to comprehend what was happening. I had let my guard down, taking in the beautiful night, in doing so, I had left myself open to an attack I hadn’t seen coming.
Tears immediately filled my eyes as all I could think was, "No. No. No. Not again." I didn't realize how badly I was shaking until I lifted my hands to grasp the one that was wrapped around my throat in a cruel grip. My mind screamed that this was nothing like the way Bones would grab my throat. His hands were firm and unyielding, but they didn't hurt. It was comforting. This was something entirely different.
I pried my eyes open and blinked, trying to clear my vision, seeing my trembling hands wrapped around a normal, flesh-colored arm devoid of black tattoos. Looking up, I finally saw who was cutting off my air.
The snarling, irate face was familiar, but in my panic, I couldn't place where I had seen him. I tried to speak, but all I could get out were garbled sounds that didn't make any sense, even to my own ears.
"I'm going to make you pay for what you did to me, bitch." The words were spoken against my face, spittle flying to cover my cheek as he leaned in. A shudder of revulsion ran through me as I felt him lick my face from my chin to my forehead.
"I don't even care that your scars make you look like a freak. First, I'm going to fuck you up a little bit, add to those ugly scars you can't hide. Then, when you're nice and compliant, I'm going to fuck you in every fucking hole on your body." He punched me hard in my stomach, my ribs protesting as a woosh of air made it through my constricted throat. I heard him laugh, even though the sound seemed pained. "Fuck, that hurt. Something else you're going to be paying for, cunt."
I was yanked forward for a heartbeat before my body was slammed back against the wall. The man let go of my neck, letting me fall to the ground, whimpering and coughing through the pain of my bruised throat and the punch to the gut. I rolled over, attempting to get away from the man that I still couldn't place in my frantic thoughts. My face hit something soft, so I started blinking, hoping to clear my vision of the blackness from having my head so violently bashed against the wall.
I realized that it was my bag that was against my cheek. It must have fallen when I was tossed against the wall the first time. All I could think of was the knife I had hidden in the side pocket. The same knife that had been left behind on the bar the night Bones saved me from being raped by the prospect. My eyes widened at the realization that finally hit me.
Even though he had been above me and I was struggling against him, I hadn't paid much attention as I had been panicking and fighting. Now that the memory had surfaced of that night, I realized who was doing this and why. I reached for the side pocket, ready to protect myself, but it was too late.
With a scream of frustration and pain tearing out of me, I was viciously yanked back by my foot. I felt the skin of my hands and stomach from my shirt sliding up, tearing as I was dragged over the rough ground. A hard kick to my gut had my whole body rising into the air for the briefest of seconds before hitting the ground again, landing on my other side. The cruel laughter from the prospect was followed by a taunt.
"What's wrong, bitch? No one here to save you this time?" I heard what could only be a belt buckle jingle. I moaned, trying to use my hands to crawl away from the nightmare, but I felt too weak to hold my body up. "I'm going to enjoy every second of this."
