Abandoned Angel (24 page)

Spike took a step back as he pushed Angelina to the bed, belly first.

“Bend over bitch,” he ordered as she fell onto the soft mattress. Angelina regained her balance, placed her feet on the ground, and bent over as he had instructed. Spike pulled her white panties down past her ass, never taking his eyes off Blaze. The tears fell harder, but still, Angelina remained motionless. She would rather have the bastard rape her than chance getting Blaze shot.

Blaze watched as Spike yanked down Angelina’s panties. His instinct was to release his fury, but as long as Spike kept his hand on the trigger and his eyes focused on Blaze - there was nothing he could do. Patiently, he waited for the opportunity to stop this from happening to her. He would not allow Spike to get even with him by destroying this woman. He should have left her at the first gas station they had stopped at. He regretted not doing so.

With the gun pointed at Blaze, Spike moved his free hand to his own belt buckle. Blaze could see that he was struggling with it and used the opportunity to distract him.

“Come on Spike, she’s my fuck, not yours.”
Let him think he is in charge,
thought Blaze,
give him a reason to relax.

“What’s the matter Blaze? You think you’re too good to share this pussy with me?”

Blaze wanted to smack the smug look off his face.

“It’s not like that.” Blaze forced the sound of fear to come across his voice. “She didn’t choose to ride with us Spike, it’s different. You know it is.”

Struggling to get his belt undone, one handed, Spike took his eyes off Blaze for an instant. Blaze had been waiting for this, opportunity. With a quick jut, Blaze ducked as he hit Spikes gunned hand in the wrist with a hard thud. Using the momentum Blaze elbowed Spike in the kidneys with all the force he could muster. Angelina flung herself onto the bed in time to turn and see what was happening. The gun went off as it flew out of Spikes grasp, the sound echoed throughout the room. The bullet missed Blazes head by a couple of inches. Angelina screamed as Blaze raised his leg and kneed Spike on the side of the face. Instead of Spike going down, the force lunged Spike towards Angelina who was kneeled, legs curled under her bottom, on the edge of the bed. He once again grabbed her throat, squeezing it as Angelina gasped for air. Her arms flared as she tried to force him to stop. Blaze picked up the gun from behind him.

“Let her go or I’ll put a hole through your head, you fucking bastard.”

Blaze did not want to have to shoot him, but he would not let Angelina die, and Spike intended to kill her.

When Spike did not give, Blaze aimed the gun at the back of his shoulder and pulled the trigger. His grip loosened as he yelled in pain. Blaze dropped the gun and pulled Spikes bleeding body off Angelina. She sobbed quietly.

“We have to get out of here,” hollered Blaze as the bedroom door flew open.

“What the hell happened?” demanded Doc as he pushed into the room. He could see that Angelina’s mostly naked body had blood running down the front of it.

“Is she ok?” He started to reach for Angelina but stopped when he heard Spike moaning from the floor on the side of the bed.

“Ah shit Blaze, did you do that?” He did not need an answer to know what had happened.

“You need to get the hell out of here,” was all he said.

“I know,” stated Blaze as he grabbed Angelina’s tee shirt and jeans from the floor. Although she was still crying, she was able to follow his lead. Commotion outside the room began as others came up to see what was going on.

“You got to go now Blaze,” ordered Doc, slamming the bedroom door shut. Blaze pulled Angelina to the window, needing her to climb out on her own. She began to get her wits about her, and grabbed her shoes. She threw them to the ground before climbing out the sturdy second floor window unto an overhang. She then scurried down the railing to the main floor. Once on the ground she scrambled into her jeans as Blaze pushed his bike down the street. With one shoe on and the other still in her hand, she climbed onto the back of the bike. They drove off undetected.

Jose entered the room to find Doc standing by the bed and Spike lying on the floor crumpled up in a ball. He did not notice Blaze climbing out the window on the other side of the room.

“What the hell . . .” was all he managed to say as he headed towards Spike. There was a large pool of blood on the floor, and blood splattered across the bed. Jose, caught off guard, was slow to react. A couple of stoned club members followed him into the room, more curious
than anything else
.

“What happened in here?” asked one of them. No one answered. Jose was trying to tend to Spike, but in his drunken state did not know what to do to help. Doc stood quietly, listening to the sounds outside. He did not move a muscle to help the bleeding man.

------

Silently Blaze prayed he hadn't killed Spike. In theory, he wanted Spike dead, but in all actually he did not want to be a killer. He was furious that Spike had put him in that position. He knew the code, but he was not going to sit there and let Spike rape Angelina. He just could not do it, code or not. He would not allow another woman that he cared about be hurt - not ever again, and somewhere along the way he started to care about Angelina. Blaze hoped the bullet had hit Spike in the shoulder but he was not sure, and there had been a lot of blood. He was grateful Doc had been the first to respond to the gunshot. With all the partying going on, he wasn’t sure anyone had heard the commotion, yet he was not surprised when Doc walked through the bedroom door. He had always had his back. Blaze trusted that Doc would call when it was clear to let him know what was happening. For now, he had to get far away, as quickly as possible, until he knew it was safe to return. Either way he was finished riding with the club as long as Angelina was with him. She would not be safe once the others knew what the dispute was
over
. At this point, any member that wanted her could claim her as club property, to show unity. She had chosen to take a ride from Blaze, and that is how they would see it. Blaze
would probably get jumped
for choosing to protect an outsider over the club. He
would then be expected
to join in to prove his loyalty. He would not allow any of that to happen.

------

“Someone
gonna
tell me what the hell happened in here?” shouted an exasperated Jerome as he wheeled himself into the room. He refused to allow anyone to push him in his chair. To Jerome that was a sign of weakness, and everyone knew to let him get to where he was going on his own terms. By the time he had ridden the chair ramp up the steps and entered the room Spike
had been turned
onto his back, and Jose was applying pressure to the wound. He had lost a lot of blood though, and the carpet was now a brown-red color beneath him. The bullet had hit just below his shoulder blade, on the left side. Spike was awake and furious, in his stubbornness, but very close to passing out, so he didn’t speak. Doc took advantage of his condition.

“That son of a bitch brought a gun into your house!” Doc accused while steering the conversation towards Spike.

Doc knew he had to turn the situation on Spike from the get go - or Blaze wouldn't have a chance with the other members. He had to stall in case the club wanted to retaliate. If the members thought Blaze had turned on them for an outsider, he was as good as dead to them, and so was Angelina.

“What the hell were you doing bringing a gun into my house?” steamed Jerome as he wheeled himself towards Spike. His somber face was full of anger and disgust. He hated guns, and they all knew this. Doc took advantage of his anger and of the close bond that Jerome and Blaze shared, hoping he would react just the way he did.

“Did you seriously think Blaze wouldn’t defend himself?” Doc hollered, glaring at Spike. “I ought to break your neck myself!” Doc swarmed in on Spike as he spoke, trying to distract the others from asking what the fight was over.

“You've had it out for him since he joined us,” he continued. “You couldn't beat him with your fists, so you pull a gun on him instead? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Doc kicked Spike’s crumpled body, causing the bleeding man to groan even louder.

“Here of all places! You've gone too far this time Spike.”

The others stared at the angry man, not understanding the situation.

Spike moaned. It was too painful to form words, but Doc could see the hate drizzling through his pores. In the distance, Doc heard the muffled roar of a bike speed away. No one else seemed to notice.

“I ought to finish you off,” yelled Doc, pulling back his fist as he stepped closer to a near unconscious Spike.

“Man, wait a minute,” interrupted Jose, as Doc knew he would.

“We don't even know what happened.”

In his drunken state, he was confused and had not been able to put the pieces together.

“We need to get him to a doctor.”

The younger members rarely disrespected Doc. He had been around for a long time, and was hard as nails when he needed to be.

“Yeah Doc, he’s right,” chimed in another, young member. He was a bit unsure of himself though.

Doc was waiting to see what Jerome would do. Wheelchair or not, Jerome was a tough man, and everyone respected him.

“Get the bastard out of here,” echoed Jerome. “And clean that fucking blood up!” He ordered as he turned his chair towards the door. The wheels squeaked as he moved.

“I'm
gonna
get that fucker
fer
you Spike,” was the last thing Doc heard Jose say as he followed Jerome out of the bedroom. They left the others to take care of getting Spike to the hospital, and the party continued downstairs as if nothing had happened.

------

“You want to tell me what the hell happened up there?” asked Jerome once they had settled at the round table in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” Doc replied, pretending not to understand what he was asking.

Playing dumb would not fly with Jerome. The dude was straight forward and to the point. He expected that of everyone around him.

“Don't bullshit me in my own house Doc,” replied Jerome. He
was not amused
by Doc’s guarded answer. He knew Blaze pretty well, or at least he thought he did, and that was not going to work.

“It was over the girl wasn’t it? Who the hell is she anyway?”

Doc did not respond. HE did not know who she was – not really. Just some damn woman that Blaze
got screwed up
with, and now look where he is – running from the club, his family. The thought pissed him off.

“I don’t know who the fuck she is Jerome, but obviously Blaze feels the need to help her.”

“I heard the guys talking, Doc. She should be club property, and you know it. What the hell is he doing?” demanded Jerome.

Doc sat quietly thinking about the situation.
Yeah, she should be club property, but funny how she isn’t.

“Apparently Blaze doesn’t see it that way,” responded Doc, shaking his head, a bit amused over the fact that Blaze does as he wants.

“Apparently not,” agreed Jerome, unable to be mad at Blaze. He couldn’t help it, he liked the man, and trusted him completely.

“He always has done things his own way hasn't he?” Jerome asked, not looking for an answer.

“Yes, I guess he has,” agreed Doc.

The fact that Blaze was in charge of Blaze, is part of why Doc liked the man so much. He dictated what he would do, and that seemed to work for him. The two men sat quietly for a moment before Jerome spoke again.

“You know this isn't over, don’t you?” he asked his friend, staring at the Michelob in his hand. “Blaze won't be safe if he comes back. They won’t let this go.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Doc, not wanting the statement to be true, but accepting that it was.

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Doc was worried about Blaze and on edge because of it. Blaze was not the type to shoot somebody, not without being provoked anyway. He thought of what must have happened in the bedroom. He listened as Jerome reminded Doc that he too, might be a target for helping Blaze.

“He isn’t the only one in danger Doc. If you helped Blaze do this, for an outsider, your ass is on the line too.”

“I'll manage,” stated Doc as he heard the front door slam shut.

A couple of the guys had finally managed to get Spike down the stairs and was taking him to the emergency room. Everyone else went about his business as if nothing had happened.

“Just watch your back Doc; you are getting too old for this shit.”

Jerome wheeled himself out of the kitchen, leaving those words hanging in the air for Doc to ponder.

With the night air beating against his face, Blaze rode for over an hour before stopping. Although he had not heard any of the club members following him, he strategically made a number of turns to lose them. The weather had started to turn. A storm was coming. It was starting to get cold, and he knew they should pull over for the night, but he wanted to get them as far away from the other bikers as he could. Blaze eventually stopped on the side of the dark highway, under a faint streetlight, to see how Angelina was handling things. It wasn’t until they were both off the bike, where he could see her expression; that he spoke.