Breaking The Silence (Fatally Flawed Book 3) (20 page)

Bethany

              Twisting my hands, on my denim covered lap, I think about the question my therapist, Mary Robinson, just asked. Am I nervous that Dalton is going to be with my mother, to bring me home tomorrow? The thought of seeing the only man I have ever loved should feel me with a sense of happiness and joy, but the only emotion I feel, thinking of finally staring into his forest green eyes again, is panicky. The time I have been in this rehab facility I’ve opted to have no visitors or phone calls, so I have not spoken to Dalton since that morning, that forever will be seared into my memory, nine months ago.

             
My head is throbbing and my mouth is as dry as the Sahara Desert. Blinking open my eyes while trying to move my heavy limbs, I grimace from the light coming through the window. The taste in my mouth suggest I may well be dead, but I know that to be a lie by the aching feeling in my soul that never goes away.  Slowly turning my head to the right I can hear soft footsteps in the kitchen. The smell of coffee has me rising from the couch, confused as to why I am naked under a dirty sheet, I gradually make my way to the aroma.

              Hearing the sound of the kitchen door being swung open Dalton turns and pins me with a stare. His soft green eyes, I once longed to be the main focus of, are looking at me with relief and a hint of pain. His curly hair is messy, most likely from rubbing his hands through it, and the black circles under his eyes shows me he didn’t get much sleep.

              “Sit down, Bethany.” He orders, causing me to flinch from his tone. He no longer calls me love, not that I should expect him to, I have been the one slowly destroying our relationship. That doesn’t mean the hurt isn’t there when he uses my real name instead.

              Doing as he asked, I take a seat at the table and give him my full attention. Making sure the sheet is tight around my chest, I place my hands in my lap, and start twisting my hands together. “Tell me what you remember from last night.” Dalton asks, his voice now void of any emotion.

              “We had another fight.” I state, not wanting to mention what the argument was over. I don’t feel like hashing it out, again. It’s obvious he thinks I have a problem, but it’s not like I am shooting heroine up my arm. “I left and….” Saying that, I begin to realize I don’t remember anything past walking out the door. I remember being angry and hurt. Dalton had taken away the only thing I have to numb the constant feeling of anguish I now walk around with.

              “And?” He questions, his eyes hardening like I’ve never seen before. His arms are shoulder length apart, hands resting on the counter top, muscular shoulders slumped making him look troubled. Trying to rake my brain for the tiniest clue, I start to get a sinking feeling in my stomach when I come up empty handed.

              “I don’t remember.” I whisper, twisting my fingers to the point of pain. How is this possible? Why do I not remember anything past slamming the door, almost glad I had finally destroyed the only good thing left in my life.

              “You don’t remember meeting up with, Keira, and going to a drug dealers house? Do you recall letting a strange man strip you naked and take what you so willingly gave him?” He asks, defeat and betrayal clear in his eyes. Shaking my head no. Feeling my eyes start to fill with tears, I bite down on my lip so hard I can taste the blood. The look on Dalton’s face tells me he wishes it were a lie.

              “Do you hate my touch so much; you had to go looking for someone else’s?” Dalton whispers, his head now hanging down, undoubtedly trying to hide his pain. “It’s up to you to get the help you need, Bethany. I’m done.”

              Before I am able to reply he walks out of the kitchen. Leaving me to watch his retreating back knowing I am the cause of his shoulders hunching in misery and fist clinching at his sides. I stand on shaky legs, with my mouth even more dry now, and walk to the refrigerator for a bottle water. In order to make the phone calls needed I am going to have to hydrate myself first.

              “Bethany, did you hear me?” Mary asks in a patient tone.

              “No.. No..” I whisper. “I heard you, I was just remembering the last time I saw him. To answer your question my heart is soaring at the idea of seeing Dalton again, but my mind is having a hard time not shutting down from fear.”

              “Why would you fear Dalton, Bethany?”

              “Let me rephrase, that.” I say, finally looking her in the eyes. “I don’t fear Dalton because he would never intentionally hurt me.” I clarify, thinking of all the times I had set out to hurt him after the loss of our son. Taking my pain and anger out on the wrong person. There was a time when I had blamed Dalton for everything because of his friendship with K.J. and Jasper, but that was just to cover up my feelings of guilt. Deep down I wanted him to leave me. That is what I thought I deserved. My punishment for not being strong enough to do what any mother should do, protect their child.

              “I fear the look of rejection in his eyes.” I finally whisper.  

Chapter 1

Mia

              My body slams into Scarlett, who is sitting to my right, in the back of this van leading us to the next unknown. Her whimper of pain causes my blood to boil, “slow down, Asshole.” I yell at the driver. His friend I’ve nicknamed, Vienna, hits me in the stomach with what I can only assume is his boot. “Fuck you and your tiny prick,” I wheeze out, not wanting him to get the best of me. The laughter that follows is proof enough my words have no effect on him.

              Me and my three girls are all blind folded with our hands tied behind our backs, being hauled around like farm animals. About a month ago, if my memory is correct, I was taken from the bar I worked at in California. Who would have thought taking out the trash would have turned into any woman’s worse nightmare?  I woke up in a basement with three unfamiliar girls staring at me. As soon as I was able to get up, I immediately knew I was royally screwed. Growing up I was a burden to my mom who eventually dropped me off at a home when I was five. I was too mouthy and violent for any foster parent so it was group homes for me until I turned eighteen. After a lot of hard work, and the fear of being homeless, I got my shit together. Started working as a bartender, making it on my own. I’ve always been a loner, not really getting along with many people, especially women.

              I know we’ve arrived when my body gets thrown forward, then slammed back, making me feel a quick wave of nausea. I can hear a few soft cries from my girls, not having the strength to take another hit, I bite my tongue. Trying to keep calm while forming a plan in my head. The first night I was in that basement, lying on the cold concrete floor, Vienna decided to pay me a visit. I remember opening my eyes, just to see him standing over me rubbing his little dick, trying to get it hard. I did what any other would’ve done, I rose to my feet and slowly made my way toward him, batting my eye lashes. He proved to be just as stupid as I thought when he stood there waiting. As soon as I was close enough, I lifted my knee up as quick as I could, hitting him right in his baby maker. There was a lot of screaming and cussing in Spanish, but I paid little attention. I quickly ran up the stairs toward the door, thinking my escape was too easy, before running into his back up waiting for me on the other side of the door. That night I learned what it felt like to be beaten by two grown men, twice my size, but that nasty bastard never came at me with his dick out again.

              “I don’t want to hear anything out of any of you, or else I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” I hear Vienna say. His English is poor at best, making it hard not to laugh at the illiterate fool.

              I’m the last girl they get out of the van. I know this because I hear Vienna say he saved the best for last before I feel his grip on my arm. He starts walking with me firmly in his grasp, having trouble keeping up with him, I fall a few times. Scrapping my knees on what feels like little rocks. If there are rocks on the ground this must mean we’re outside. Soon after we stop walking there is a cool breeze that blows through my lingerie confirming my suspicion. Each one of us were brought a scandalous outfit to wear, they wouldn’t say much to us, but lucky for us Rebecca knows some Spanish, and overheard them saying we would be traded for guns.

              “This one here is eighteen, I think you’ll like her best. If that is too old we have this one, she is sixteen.” The driver of the car is speaking to whomever, talking about Scarlett and Rebecca. I hear Scarlett start sobbing and the rest of my restraint goes out the window. I throw my body weight down, landing on my hands, catching Vienna off guard. He releases his grip on my shoulder, long enough for me to attack. I am kicking my feet out, as quickly and as hard as I can, hoping to hell I land a few good blows. I realize this may probably be the worst time to let my anger get the best of me, but I would rather die than live with myself knowing I didn’t fight back. I hear Vienna’s scream of pain, and I laugh out loud knowing I hit him.

              “You think that is funny you, Puta?” He says, right before something hard comes down on my stomach. The air is knocked out of my lungs, so I roll to my side trying to catch a breath. Realizing it hurts worse when I try to take a deep breath. I know this asshole has, most likely, broken one of my ribs, yet I still regret nothing.

              “Get the fuck away from her right now, or I’ll blow your Mexican head right off.” An unfamiliar male voice says. His tone is smooth, yet gravely at the same time. There is nothing but truth in it, and I catch myself taunting Vienna wanting the stranger to follow through. “Poor Vienna, I was just about to smash that little dick of yours.”

              The sound of the gun going off has me closing my eyes, mentally checking myself for any wounds. I let out a slow breath, realizing nothing new hurts. The second gunshot I hear causes me to jump a little, I don’t know if the driver is shooting back, or maybe turning his gun on one of us. I’m still on my back, taking shallow breaths, but I need to get this blind fold off and my hands untied. Thank goodness for all those yoga classes I took trying to get my anger under control, I am limber enough to get my hands in front of me. It hurts like hell, but I hold back my cries, not wanting to bring any more attention to myself. I use my mouth and untie the knot from the rope around my hands, then remove my blindfold. It’s dark out, but the minute the scene around me comes into focus I begin to wish Vienna would have just shot me, these guys are way more terrifying.             

              Swallowing the lump in my throat, and trying to sound as tough as I can, I turn to the group of leather clad men, “get the hell away from my girls, or you’ll regret it.” I know I have no way of living up to that.

              “Take it easy Spitfire, we aren’t going to hurt them.” I recognize this one’s voice as the guy that threatened Vienna. I’m not a short petite woman, in fact growing up I was taller than most boys my age, reaching right at five-eleven. However, I feel really small compared to the large man staring at me. He must be over six-four, wearing black wrangler pants, that are tight around his massive thighs. The white shirt he is wearing under his cut, is just tight enough to show off his huge arms. He obviously works out.

              “But if you keep looking at me like that, I can’t promise not to do something you might regret later.”

              My eyes shoot up to his, not liking his threat. That’s when I notice the small smile playing across his face, showing off a slight dimple on his left cheek. Strong jaw line and some stubble on his face that matches his short chocolate brown hair. Teeth that are perfectly straight and white, but his smile is nothing compared to the blue eyes, staring right through me. They are the deepest shade of navy I’ve ever seen. Like his eyes were supposed to be dark, but decided last minute to stay blue. Shaking my head, I walk over to my girls, never letting the bikers out of my sight.

              I untie each one of their arms, while reassuring all of them everything is going to be alright. After they have been set free they take off their masks, and stare out into the starry night, trying to get their bearings back. Scarlett is the first one to look around, screaming when she sees the dead bodies of Vienna and the driver. I wrap her up in my arms, trying to console her. Rebecca and Sammy huddle in behind me, cowering from the very large men, watching our every movement.

              “We need to take them back to Brady with us, figure out everything when we get back to the compound.” This guy has an Australian accent, sandy brown hair, with sage green eyes that make you want to get lost in them. He is also taller than me, but his body is leaner, like a runner, or surfer.

              “I agree with Taz, I can’t have their death on my conscious, and they won’t survive out here by themselves. What do you think, Torch?” This guy seems to be the less deadly of them all. He’s got kind brown eyes, and reddish brown hair. Both his ears are pierced, with gages making the holes large enough for me to stick my pinkie through. He catches me staring, smiling at me, he introduces himself, “I’m Hammer.”

              “I think if you get Spitfire to agree, the rest will follow.” Torch answers.

              Knowing his name is Torch makes me even more nervous. I may be a loner, but I still have my street smarts. They have nicknames in these biker gangs. I also know these nicknames fit your personality. He must like playing with fire, the kind of shit I’m not down with. All of a sudden the one they call Taz, tries to take a step closer to me, but Torch stops him with a hand to his shoulder.

              “I’ve got this.” He says, as he walks up to me, getting in my personal space. I unwrap Scarlett from my arms, placing her in Sammy’s. I need to have both hands free, just in case his eyes need scratching out.

              “I need you to get your feisty ass on the back of my bike, and ride back to our compound. We aren’t leaving you out here.” He says in his smooth arrogant voice, convinced he is going to win this battle. My hand comes up, ready to land a hard slap across his smug face, but I’m stopped mid swing. His calloused and warm hand, holds my wrist lightly.

              “I had a feeling you would do that. Trust me when I say you are coming willingly or by force, your choice.”

              “Mia?” Sammy says with concern in her voice. Her long blonde hair is matted around her face, with dirt and grime. Those big grey eyes of hers are larger now, staring at me with absolute fear.

              “I’m getting cold Mia, and Scarlett can’t stop shaking. We should take them up on their offer, they can’t be any worse than the ones that had us.” Rebecca chimes in, always trying to be the mediator of the group. In the month that we have been held captive together, I have grown to love these girls. I am the protector, the one that is always up for a fight. Sammy is smart and calculating, she just lacks courage. Scarlett is the youngest, and she was the first they abducted. No one knows how long she was down there before they threw Rebecca and Sammy in with her, and she won’t talk about that time.

              “You should listen to them Mia,” the way my name rolls of his tongue, makes my blood run warm. His voice sending shivers down my spine. I hope he chalks it up to the chill in the air, but that dimpled smile tells me that’s just wishful thinking on my part. I realize I’m going to have to get on the back of one of these bikes, and I am willing to do this for my girls. I just refuse for it to be his bike.

              “Alright you win, but I ride with him.” I say to everyone, pointing at the only biker to not say a word. He has stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, looking menacing and bored at the same time. He is not a bad looking guy, just scary. He’s got coal black hair and a scar running across his throat, like someone once tried to slice it open. Those sky blue eyes look haunted, like they no longer have life behind them. There is no way I can let anyone else ride with him.

              “You hear that Teller. She wants to ride with you.” Taz says, giving Teller a toothy smile.

              Teller shakes his head no, which prompts me to flip him the bird. “what do you mean no, you have no choice, I ride with you or we don’t go.”

              “Is she trying to order us around boys? I like this one; she’s riding with me.”  Taz declares, volunteering himself.

              “No. She rides with me.” Torch says, “Teller you get the redhead, she won’t try to talk your head off. The other two can figure it out on their own. Let’s go.” He turns around, taking my arm, pulling me behind him. With his back to me I finally get a look at the club name and emblem. The word Tarnished is on a patch above the skeletal face of what has to be the grim reaper. His eyes are glowing red, and his hood is torn, looking jagged and tarnished. The word Souls is under the reaper along with MC.

              “Tarnished Souls, really? Couldn’t come up with something more original?” I question. He spins around and is in my face before I can take my next breath. “I can put up with your sharp tongue, and vulgar mouth, but don’t disrespect my club. Understood?” I nod my head up and down, swallowing down my fear. Him being this close to me allows me to feel just how hard is body his, and it’s causing my mind to grow foggy with desire. I shouldn’t be thinking about the size of his dick right now, but something tells me it’s going to be just as big as the rest of him. For the first time tonight, I grasp that I may be in real trouble.