Page 6

6

A t some point, I fall asleep, no longer able to keep my eyes open as the music in the truck reminds me of the music my best friend, Lexi, listens to. Well, I guess I’m not really her best friend anymore, not after what I did. She has a new best friend now, and me? Well, I only have me, and my littlest sister, Tahli. And hell, right now, I don’t even have that.

When my lids flutter open again, my head is resting on Ringo’s arm, so I sit up in a hurry, mortified I did that.

The prick just chuckles quietly next to me.

The truck has slowed. We are no longer on a highway but driving in what looks like a metro area of Melbourne. A little rush of excitement has me sitting taller, my eyes scanning everything I can see to find a sign that gives away our location.

I’m happy to be away from Timber Valley, where my hometown of Fox Pines is. I used to love the regional area, but now, the things that happened to me have poisoned any love I have for that place.

My family never ventured into the city much. My only taste was the few times a year I went and stayed with my Gran, but she got sick a few months back, and my mum was quick to shove her into an aged care facility.

I don’t even think she’s been to visit her since the day she moved her in.

I hate my mum. She was always hard on me growing up, but her true colours didn’t show until I committed an irreversible sin in the eyes of the Lord.

“We’re nearly there. Pull your hood up,” Ringo orders, not even bothering to look at me, so I poke my tongue out at him.

“I like this one,” Stocky says from my other side, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest, and my eyes widen.

Did he just catch me sticking my tongue out like an immature brat?

Whoops.

I have no idea what’s gotten into me. I would never normally act like this.

Maybe it’s because I’m so tired. Or perhaps something in my head snapped tonight, and now I’m a little unhinged.

I smile inwardly. I’m barely unhinged.

What I think I’m feeling is a sense of freedom. Which is weird, right? Because I’m not free. I’ve been kidnapped by people who I’m pretty sure belong to one of those lawless motorcycle clubs given the motorbikes, and just their general demeanour.

Of course I could be stereotyping.

I have no idea who wanted me to be taken, so I could be trading one prison for another, but what if this prison isn’t as bad?

And how crazy is that thought? Thinking like that is all sorts of messed up.

“Hood, Charity,” Ringo barks, so I reluctantly do as he demands and pull the hood up over my head, covering my blonde hair that still has a tint of pink on the ends from my blood.

The truck starts slowing some more, and the motorcycles in front of us indicate right, and Stocky follows suit.

It’s then that my eyes snag on what looks like an old motel, with a half shattered Best Western sign hanging haphazardly off a tall pole.

This must be the Western they were referring to.

“Get down.” Ringo points to the floor between his legs, and I’m quite certain my brows shoot up into my hair.

“What?”

“I need you to get down here.” Ringo points again to the floor between his legs. “Just until we get parked.”

I’m about to ask why again when he reaches across me and unclips my seatbelt.

“Hurry up,” he snaps, manoeuvring me even though I want to protest, and before I know it, I’m pushed to the truck floor between his legs.

Staring up at him in disbelief, I part my lips to ask him what the hell is going on, but he shakes his head, his eyes remaining on mine as he speaks.

“Keep quiet and don’t fucking move. I’ll tell you when it’s safe.”

Safe ?

What?

Suddenly, any excitement I had flies away like a bat out of hell.

I’m still not safe.

Just that thought has me curling in on myself, trying to make myself as small as possible.

The tall doors and dash of the truck hide me huddled on the floor, and I draw the string of the hood tighter, trying to hide more of my face.

As the truck turns, I’m jostled a little as we drive over what must be a driveway entrance, and Ringo’s legs close tighter around me to hold me in place.

This position is weird, which seems to be the theme of the night. But here I am, sitting on the floor between a stranger’s legs, and as the streetlights illuminate the inside of the cabin, I force myself to keep my eyes on Ringo’s, instead of venturing south, because oh my goodness, his junk is right there.

My cheeks flame at the thought, and I can’t make sense of why. This man is a… man. Like an older guy. Who kidnapped me. And in my experience, a man’s junk has been used as nothing but a weapon against me.

Holy shit. This isn’t that Stockholm syndrome thing, is it?

The thought tugs at the corners of my lips, a smile threatening because I immediately think of One Direction and their song.

I love 1D.

As the truck slows to a stop, Ringo’s legs press tighter around me before he speaks. “Head down. Don’t let your face be seen.”

My eyes widen, but when I hear the window of the truck sliding down on Stocky’s side, I hurry to lower my head, curling in tight like a toddler that thinks that because I can’t see them, then they can’t see me.

“Hey man,” a gruff voice comes from outside. “Everything run smoothly?”

“Yep. Got a lap dance off a Marx dancer earlier,” Stocky says with pride in his tone.

“Really? Fuck, Ringo, when are you gonna let me come on one of your rides?” the outside voice asks, sounding younger than I first thought.

“When you finally get patched in,” Ringo mutters, like he doesn’t care for the conversation.

“Feel free to hurry that along.” The outside voice laughs, before Stocky starts driving the truck again.

“You can look up, Angel,” Ringo says quietly, and I glance up to see his face is closer as he leans down. “I have to sneak you in. I’ll explain later, but once we are parked, I need you to do everything I tell you until I get you to my room. No questions. No trying to run. No bratty comebacks.”

I nod, but squeak when we’re jostled, and I realise we are going down an incline and rolling over a speed bump. Without thinking, I latch onto Ringo’s leg, trying to keep myself in place.

Even though he sits tall again, Ringo’s eyes stay focused on me. I should be more scared of him than I am, I know that, but for some reason I’m not.

Is it weird that despite everything that’s happened that I feel safe with him?

As I clutch onto his leg, I notice in my peripheral vision that we are now in an underground garage, and after a short drive, the truck stops, and Stocky shuts off the engine .

It’s then that I hear the loud rumble of the motorcycles, obviously from the others, as they park in the underground garage as well.

“You want us to shield?” Stocky asks, and I peer over Ringo’s knee at him to see him looking at Ringo.

“Yeah. We need to get her to my room. Then you guys are done.” Ringo nods, before his eyes shift back down to me.

“Got it. I’ll word up the others,” Stocky announces, and then he opens his door and slides out.

I have so many questions, but I keep them in, doing as he asked.

No questions.

No trying to run.

No bratty comebacks.

“This place isn’t for sweet girls.” His voice is raspy as he keeps it quiet. “I need to keep you hidden to keep you safe until I can work out a new plan. I want you to get out of the truck. Stay attached to me like your life depends on it. Keep your hood on and head down, and if we come across anyone, don’t fucking look at them or say anything. Got it?”

Nodding, I keep my voice in, suddenly wanting to leave here.

This doesn’t feel safe.

All I want is to feel safe.

The rap of knuckles on Ringo’s window draws his attention, and he nods at whoever it is before opening the door.

“You need to let go of my leg now, Angel.”

Why does he keep calling me Angel? I thought he decided my name to be Charity. While Angel isn’t exactly a name I’d choose, it’s a lot better than Charity .

Slowly, I release his leg, staring up at him to await my next instruction.

“Slide up here. Onto my lap.”

Why is his voice so husky? He must be tired. I know my voice goes like that when I’m really tired.

Doing as he asks, I ease up between his legs, my cheeks flaring to life at how close I have to get to his private parts in order to squeeze out of the space. It didn’t seem that hard to get into, but then again, he did kind of drag me. This time, he’s letting me make my way out.

As I rise up, he helps me onto his lap, and gestures for me to climb down out of the cab, which I do to see the others waiting.

“Remember. She’s not here. If she’s found…” Ringo doesn’t finish, but they all nod before he closes the truck door, having climbed out behind me. “Let’s go.”

Ringo sidles up beside me, wrapping his arms over my shoulders and squeezing me close, as the others fall in around me, making a barrier as we start to walk.

I do exactly as Ringo asked of me, keeping my head down, my eyes on my feet, having no idea of our surroundings, other than the old concrete path that turns into a paved red brick path.

We come to a door, and the others part so we can step forward, Ringo unlocking it with a key.

“Head inside. The bathroom is at the back of the suite if you need it. I’ll be right in.”

When he urges me to step inside, I do so reluctantly, my eyes scanning the space he calls a suite, which is nothing more than an oversize motel room with a bed, a small kitchenette, one of those old brown round tables and chairs, and a tattered old couch sitting in front of a TV .

It reminds me of something out of an eighties movie. Dark woods. Green carpet. Creamy coloured walls that were probably once whiter.

The door closes behind me, and I spin in panic, scared I’m being locked in, but notice it’s still slightly ajar, and I can hear Ringo talking in hushed tones to the others outside it.

Calm down, Abbey. He said he’s trying to protect you.

I want to trust him, but everyone I’ve trusted has betrayed me in some way, making it hard to accept that this stranger doesn’t have an ulterior motive.

He wants to have sex with you.

Ugh. I tip my head back, annoyed with my inner voice. I’m so sick of feeling like this. Always in flight mode.

I’m just so exhausted.

There are noises coming from either side of this room. Muffled noises that resemble a loud TV, some music, and someone clearly having sex.

Oh, my… This is a seedy motel. I already know that, but is it like one of those motels that hookers work out of? I know the Foxy Pine Motel in my town is known for that. Not that I know for sure, but I’ve heard my mum talking with her church friends, signing petitions to get the place shut down.

She's such a prude. Why can’t she just mind her own business and stop forcing her religious bullshit onto everyone else?

Needing to pee, I sigh and move to the rear of the suite, noting the wardrobes no longer have doors on them, making it look like a walk-through wardrobe as I round the corner and reach for the bathroom door.

I’m so preoccupied as my eyes latch onto the black leather vest hanging next to me with the words Southern Sadists MC on it that I don’t hear what I’m walking in on until it’s too late.

A gasp lodges in my throat, my eyes widening as I see a man, covered in tattoos, completely naked as he thrusts his… appendage into a naked woman’s mouth as they stand in the bathtub shower.

“Oh, fuck yes. The more the merrier, sweetheart.”

His voice is a strangled laugh as his face contorts painfully, his eyes raking over me while he grips the woman’s head and forces her hard against his crotch, choking noises coming from the woman as she struggles to push free.

“No!” I squeak loudly as the man roars in pleasure, and I stumble back through the door, crashing into a chest behind me. “No!” I yell, my eyes wide as I see a gush of vomit spew from the woman’s mouth around the man’s… thing… and I gag.

With my arms flailing, I try to fight, try to push away the danger at my back.

“Fuck!” Ringo’s voice meets my ears as he releases me with a shove to the side, dashing past me and into the bathroom. “Get the fuck out, Brody!”

“You brought a toy.” The man, Brody, singsongs, laughing.

“You didn’t have to hold my head, Brody.” A woman’s voice whines as she gasps for air. “I wouldn’t have moved. I told you I could last.”

As the woman’s voice floats out to me, I cringe, sinking backwards into the wardrobe space with the hanging vest as Ringo comes charging back out to the mouth of the wardrobe area. His furious glare directed towards the motel room door.

“JD, get the fuck in here! ”

“Bring the girl back in here, Ringo.” The man’s voice, who I assume is Brody, floats from the bathroom. “Stop being greedy. Sharing is caring, you moody fucker.”

I squeak and shrink back even further when Ringo’s looming presence stops in front of me as he points a stern finger into the bathroom.

“Don’t mention her again. You didn’t fucking see anyone.”

“Who are we talking about?” the woman asks, and Ringo snarls.

“Darla, get dressed and get the fuck out.”

“Ouch. Someone’s grouchier than normal.” She teases, before clearly addressing the man that choked her with his penis. “You owe me fifty bucks, Brody. I took your whole cock.”

“You hurled on it.” Brody counters and Ringo steps aside, backing into me as the naked woman stops in the bathroom doorway and glances back at the man.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t upchuck on your dick. You simply said I couldn’t take the whole thing until you came. That horse cock was so far down my throat you tickled my stomach. I expect the cash by lunch tomorrow.”

“Hurry the fuck up,” Ringo snaps but stiffens as the woman sets her sights on him.

I can’t see her face, but I can see the top of her black hair, wet and wavy.

“You know, if you’d just drop those iron walls, Ringo, and let us Doxies service you, you’d be less moody. I’ve learned this new trick with my fingers and tongue that’ll rock your world.”

“If I have to ask you one more fucking time to get out of my room, Darla, you’ll find your arse out on the fucking street. ”

“Jesus, fine. I’m going.” Darla huffs before greeting JD with a jiggle of her tits as he rounds the corner to take in the scene.

“Are you fucking serious, Brody?” JD roars, pushing past Ringo.

“Seriously satisfied. Yes.” Brody chuckles, right before a loud skin on skin slap sounds. “Ouch. What was that for?”

“The fuck are you doing in our Sargeant’s room?”

“Well, you changed the lock on your door, so I couldn’t get in, and I still have the spare key for Ringo’s—”

“Give it to me,” Ringo barks, stepping into the bathroom with JD, and I’m tempted to peek around the corner, but I’m also tempted to bolt.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

As Ringo and JD yell at Brody, I slide down the back of the wardrobe wall to the floor, underneath the hanging vest, and pull my knees to my chest, burying my head.

Memories swarm me. Rough hands. Violent shoves. Feeling like I couldn’t breathe. Like I was going to die.

“Take it like the slut you are.”

“When you bleed, it only makes it better.”

“This is what you were made for. Taking cock.”

“Who is she?”

The voice, so much closer now, snaps my attention up, and through the blur of my tears, all I see is the long dangle of a trunk-like penis right at eye level.

I whimper and tuck my head back in, more memories coming at me and all I want is for this to be over.

No more. Please. No more.

A loud crash makes me jerk, but I keep my eyes closed as Ringo snarls.

“What did I fucking say? Don’t look at her. Don’t acknowledge her. Are you fucking deaf?” There’s a slap and then Ringo continues. “You’re still a fucking prospect, Brody. If you wanna get patched in anytime soon, you’ll forget seeing her. Don’t even fucking think about her.”

“Don’t fucking look at me, little brother,” JD hisses. “You got yourself into this mess. Don’t fucking think I’ll save your arse just because we share blood.”

“Fine. Whatever. I saw nothing,” Brody concedes.

“Make sure you don’t fucking forget. Now get the fuck out,” Ringo booms, and I hear a grumble and footsteps before the door opens and closes again.

“Get your little brother under control. He’s on his last fucking legs,” Ringo snaps at JD, who sighs.

“Sorry man. I’ll have another word with him tomorrow,” JD mutters. “She going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Ringo says quietly. Softly.

I want to believe he means well, but how can I with what I just saw? Why would he bring me to a place like this?

I hear them move away, and when I know I’m alone, I let my walls down and the dam of emotions bursts free.

I cry.

I cry so hard, trying to stay quiet, my chest aching like a phantom hand is reaching inside and trying to pull my heart free .

What am I going to do? I can’t stay here with these animals, but where am I going to go after what just happened at home?

I still can’t believe my sister Maggie helped my parents drug me.

“Hey.” The deep voice is close, and I hold my breath, willing my tears to dry up so I don’t look so pathetic.

“I don’t want to be here.”

“I know.”

“Please, just let me go.” I beg into my hands, still not looking up at Ringo.

“I will.”

That gets my attention, and I peek through my fingers to see Ringo sitting on the worn green carpet in front of me, his knees up and his arms resting on them.

“Y-you’ll let me g-go?”

He nods. “Yes. When the time is right.”

“But I can’t stay here,” I snap, dropping my hands to reveal my tear-stained cheeks. “I can’t be around that. Around… abusers.”

Ringo’s shoulders rise as he sighs, his whiskey-coloured eyes almost looking sympathetic.

“I know it seemed like abuse, Charity. But Darla consented to what happened. And Brody, well, he’s just an immature idiot. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

I stare at him for a long moment, so many questions swirling through my head, and for the life of me, I don’t know why I ask this question first.

“Is that what you do? To women, I mean.”

Ringo’s brows shoot high, and for a moment, the hardness that masks his face seems to slip away .

“I’m not into puke play, Charity. Or choking chicks on my cock.”

My lip wobbles as memories of Daniel’s fingers digging into my head painfully beat their way to the forefront of my mind.

“Talk to me, Angel. What’s going on inside your head?”

I shake my head, not ever wanting to admit to the things that were done to me.

“Look, I know you don’t know me, and I know I’m an arsehole, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to change that part about myself, but I can assure you, I will never hurt you, or stand by and let someone else do that. I’m sorry that I don’t have somewhere nicer to take you, but I promise I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can. Until then, can you try to trust that I’m doing everything I can to protect you?”

I shrug, because I can’t find the words he wants to hear, but it doesn’t make him angry.

“The bathroom is clean. I made Brody wash the shower down. How about you use the facilities and then try to get some sleep? You’ve been through a lot tonight. Some rest will help.”

I nod, because sleep does sound good. I’m so damn exhausted, so when Ringo stands and moves back to give me space, I crawl out of the open wardrobe.

For now, I’ll rest, but tomorrow, when I can think straight, I’ll figure out a way to run. Ringo may want me to trust him, but experience tells me that the only person I can rely on is me.