Page 11 of Property of Brute & Axl

So many questions spiral through my mind like a never-ending staircase, and with every answer that comes, more questions arise.

With the sling off my arm, the bruising in my shoulder is alarming. It carries down my chest and bicep, across the top of my back, and into my throat. The sight alone is frightening, but I’m told it’ll be fine. The shot was a through-and-through, with no bone fragmenting. Some physiotherapy should help with muscular damage, but eventually, I’ll have full range of motion again.

My memory is another story. Doctors seem optimistic it’ll come back, that my brain is only protecting me from trauma. It’s a good thing they say, not remembering being raped by multiple men. Not reliving the physical agony my body went through at their hands.

All these things are told to me, but they forget one thing… When it all does come back, I will remember, and it’ll feel like it’s happening all over again. I’ll be raped a second time. Only it’ll be worse because what if I’ve healed when the memories flood my mind; how am I supposed to cope then?

Exhausted and hurting, I re-enter the bedroom I was set up in. I had planned to shower, but I don’t have the energy to figure out how to wash my hair and body without destroying my cast again. Or ruining the bandages on my head and shoulder.

Sliding gently into bed, my ribs scream in agony while trying to lie down carefully. Moaning when the pain becomes harrowing, I don’t bother to pull up the blanket. I can’t bend, my body screams in misery, and who cares if anyone sees me naked?

Closing my eyes, flashes of the past flicker through my mind. Moving colors just out of reach. A rush of feelings tugging strings from my heart and acting like its puppeteer. I have no control and can’t curtail the rush while fighting to breathe through overwhelming emotions.

The worst of it is, I can’t discern anything and bring forth a memory to recall. They’re illusions with no details. Inhaling deeply, I aim to focus on anything else, but pursuing the mind tricks only succeeds in giving me a headache.

Axl provided me with money and a phone, allowing me to believe they’d let me leave if that were my choice. In that moment, he was right; I was ready to run. I’d woken up in such a state of panic and couldn’t shake the feeling. Danger lurks, but why? The fear of someone coming for me terrifies me.

My eyes pop wide when the door creaks open. Seeing Brute standing there, a scowl on his face, makes my stomach clench tightly.

“You need to eat.” His stern tone makes me feel like a child as he closes the door behind himself. “The baby needs food.” At his words, fluttering picks up in my stomach. “Do you need help getting dressed?” I realize my silence frustrates him, but finding my voice seems impossible. “Dammit, Fin, fucking answer me.” He drops down onto the bed behind my ass.

“Yes,” I finally whisper.

His warm hand on my shoulder brings tears to my eyes. I feel so cold, but when either of these men touches me, it’s like being next to a furnace. Everything is cozy again.

“You good with the clothes from earlier?”

“Uh-huh.” What else would I wear? I only have what they bought me, and I’m not about to ask for even more from them. How will I ever pay them back to begin with?

“Dinner’s being cooked by the prospects. I told them to keep it simple. They went with lasagna. You okay with that?” The frown on his face as he helps me up, slipping the sweats over my feet, is telling. He doesn’t often speak this much.

“Am I a vegetarian?” I wonder out loud.

“When we met, you had no trouble eating a double cheeseburger with bacon. I think you’re safe.” My lips quirk up in a brief smile at his description.

Time stands still as his eyes roam my face, like he’s memorizing me. His finger on my jaw is a pleasant touch, rough from working with his hands, yet soothing with its lack of expectation.

“You have a gorgeous smile.” The sweet words from Brute are unexpected. He’s not a sweet man. Not soft in any way. Yet, for me, he seems to be. “Let’s get you fed.”

Just like that, the moment passes, and he’s unreadable again. In place of the man with a gentle touch and kind words is the ruthless person who appears ready to kill at a moment’s notice.

After he’s done helping me dress, he leads the way out of the apartment, holding my casted hand with his. As we slowly make our way downstairs, there’s a lot of noise that sets me on edge. Music plays from unseen speakers, chatter comes from the men I saw earlier before fainting, and the sounds of cooking fill the air.

“Hey there, princess.” Axl waits for us at the bottom of the stairs, a grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes crosses his full lips, and I wonder if they ever show genuine emotion.

“Hi,” I squeak out, noticing all eyes on us. “I don’t like being the center of attention,” I whisper as they stand protectively at my front and back.

“They’re curious about you,” Brute explains, placing a hand on my waist.

Axl tips my chin up to force me to look at him. “Ain’t nobody going to touch you.” His voice seems to carry, and everyone resumes what they were doing.

Biting my lip when my chin starts to wobble in an attempt to stop myself from the unexpected urge to cry, I bob my head subtly.

“Come on.” Brute takes my hand again to lead me over to a table against the wall, which is set up with the two men from the hospital serving food. “They worked hard on this for you.”

Leaning into him before sitting down, I ask, “What are their names?”

“Olympus and Neo. They’re working to become patched members of the club. They’ll do anything you ask of them.” Brute gives them both a stern stare, and they nod like their lives depend on it. Perhaps they do.