FOUND: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (17 page)

“Oh, that's OK then... I just came in to ask if...” And she started talking.

Though my thoughts trailed off. I nodded as if I were comprehending, but I didn't take in another word my mom said that night. They seemed so unimportant after what happened literally seconds ago. I sat on the ledge stunned trying to reel in the memory of my kiss while she talked her way around my room. She must have only been speaking for minutes, yet with my emotions running on overdrive it felt like hours. Finally, she waved me goodnight with a reminder to close the window.

I sighed in relief when the door to her bedroom shut tight. Jumping around, I looked down into the darkness outside.

“Boyd? You there?” I whispered down desperately.

This time he didn't try to trick me. He shouted softly up, only the faint glimmer of his skin being visible in the midst of the darkness, “Yeah. Close call, huh? I thought she had us that time.”

“Yeah... Close. Are you... Going home?”

“I better. Dad said he could be home during the night. I don't want to be out if he arrives back.”

“I understand... You wanna meet up tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I wouldn't miss it. See you tomorrow... and close that window. You'll catch a cold.”

“Everyone's been telling me that tonight.”

He laughed. His ridiculous chuckling fading away while he walked towards his place.

With the window finally shut, I jumped into bed and replayed every moment in my head. The way he looked at me, the touch of his hand, the feel of his lips...

We never did talk about that kiss or have another. With all the friends we had on our street we never got a chance to be alone again.

And, as I've said, he left Midnight soon after that night.

~ Chapter Eighteen ~

Chained up and in total darkness, it's funny what things run through your mind. Moments from the past, visions of lives you wish you could have led. All of it is there. I can even guarantee you start praying to someone upstairs who you never previously considered existing. The dark does that. Rather than blocking everything out, it brings things into absolute brightness.

The worst feeling, the absolute worst, was the sense of being at someone's total mercy. When I told Jerome to get it over with, I wasn't bluffing. That's exactly how I felt. I would rather have died than given him the satisfaction of having any more power over me. Of course, it's hard to keep the petrol in your belly running when trapped and waiting for the master of your fate to return. You're helpless as a baby lamb, and there's not a single thing you can do to change that.

I always considered myself resilient. Always able to smile and turn any situation around – even if it meant deluding myself – but chained to the wall, in that horrible place, I broke down. I cried like I hadn't since I was a kid. The tears streamed down my cheeks while I shook in the corner. The image of Jerome's callous and smiling face tormenting me constantly...

A crash from above brought me jumping upright when I came to from a half-sleep. It was a heavy and hard smashing of metal and wood. It sounded like someone dropped the couch or maybe kicked through the door. The shocking of hearing what occurred above sent me grasping for the chain. Without any semblance of comfort around me it was all I had.

Barely audible yet extremely heavy footsteps trod across the wood above. Each thud sent a shiver through my spine. I didn't have a clue of the time, but my internal clock told me it was late into the night. Maybe long enough for Jerome to drive back out here drunk, high and craving trouble.

Suddenly, the footsteps sounded like they were coming nearer. The collar around my neck clinched tighter while I imagined Jerome – my executioner – coming nearer. The worst of the worst thoughts and scenarios had lacerated through my mind in my hours of isolation. And now they became more vivid.

Even at Jerome's straightest he has shocked me before with his cruelty, though after a night of narcotics, what happened and stewing he was liable to do anything. I wouldn't have put
anything
past him.

A light flashed from under the basement door and I nervously scooted myself against the concrete wall. Cold sweat poured from my scared temple. I would have given anything to be anywhere but there.

Then the door clicked open, and my hands trembled. When the dungeon's light came on, I was ready to scream...

A voice spoke from across the room. “Cassie...
Cassie
? Is that you?”

It was Boyd. I recognized it instantly. He stood at the bottom of the stairs - eyes straining to see me - decked out in his leather cut, jeans and shirt. The riding goggles he wore were pushed up around his medium blond hair. In one held he held a torch close to his neck. In the other a black automatic pistol that pointed down.

“Cassie?” He asked again before taking his first step. “Is that you Cassie?”

I couldn't reply. My face collapsed into my hands and tears flooded out again.

His boots thundered across the room. “Cassie? Cassie?
Fuck
. What has that mother fucker done?”

His leather gloved hand touched my back and I jumped away frightened. Him, Boyd being here, it didn't seem real. I half believed I was dreaming.

“Cassie... Cassie look at me.” Knelt next to me, he lifted my chin while his palm stroked my shoulder comfortingly. “It's alright.
It's me
. What has he done to you? Fuck, what has that fucker done?”

My arms crashed around his neck and I pulled him close. The leather he wore was hot – I guess from the ride out in the desert – but I didn't care.

“...That bastard! Has he hurt you? What has he done?”

I burrowed out from between his arms and our eyes met. Shame hit me as I followed his eyes tracing the streaming mascara and the bruise under my eye, before finding their way to the cut. He stared down at me. His lips held tight around hard breaths.

“That
bastard
!” Boyd's words spit in anger while his hands held me tighter and he pulled me close. “That goddamn bastard!”

I meekly replied, “
Boyd
...”

“Come on Princess... It's OK.”

I shook my head into his chest, still only half believing fate could be so kind.

“How long you been here like this?”

I fought back the tears and responded, “He... He drove me out here as soon as we left Midnight and the clubhouse... He killed a cop on the road, went crazy. He's kept me like this since we got here.”

Boyd gripped my shoulder tight. “Don't worry. He can't hurt you anymore... I'll see to that.”

His heartening words didn't ease off my tears. His words only reminded me of what I had been through.

He stroked my hair. “I need to know... Is he here? Where is he?”

I shook my head and spoke, my voice muffled by him, “He told me he's gone to party. He didn't say anything else.”

“Good... I don't want no trouble with you here.”

He held me protectively like that for a few minutes – each passing one gluing together a broken shard of me. In the end I recovered enough to speak. “How..?”

“How did I find this place? We got people in the club who can track cell phones. We traced Young all this way out in the desert before it went dead. It was easy after that. This is the only place on the map for miles...”

I wrapped my fingers around the edge of his cut. All I could see was the leather and the club badge – the skull motif. Once I would have found the death's head scary, but not now.

“...I can't believe he has had you like this. In a place like fucking this... What happened?”

I whispered, “I finished... Me and him... I finished with him. This was his way of trying to keep me.”

“
Jesus
... To think I gave him the benefit of the doubt because he was with you... When the club found the coke had been cut they were ready to tour and war. I convinced them I would talk it out with him. Make peace... Cause of you.”

I felt at peace. For this first time in a long while I truly did. Away from Jerome and in the embrace of an old friend, I was safe.

But then like an alarm bell his words truly registered in my mind:
I convinced them I would talk it out with him
.

Panicked, I tried to pull him standing. “You're alone? We can't be here alone! We've got to get out of here. He could be back at any minute!”

“Cassie!” He stroked my arms trying to calm me down.

“We've got to go!” I tore at the chain hysterically. “You don't know what he's like! You don't know what he's capable of! I don't want you hurt. He killed that cop. I don't want him to do the same to you!”

He shushed me quiet in soft, calming tones. “See this gun? I can tell you if he does dare try anything, I'm a much better shot than he is. Don't worry, Princess, he won't get the jump on me.”

“But you don't know him like I do. He's crazy. Worse when he's high...”

Boyd cut me off, “I've known a lot of men meaner and uglier than him. We've got nothing to worry about -
you trust me
. If he does come back, out here we'll hear him coming up the dirt path for miles. Let's see him try to be unreasonable.”

I didn't reply. I didn't need to. The way he said it, I could only believe him.

“Anyway, it's about time we got that chain off. Hold me tight.”

I fell into his arms and the instant I landed his gun exploded off behind me. The heavy chain connecting me to the wall instantaneously dropped to the floor with a thud.

“Come on. Let's get you upstairs. I got a knife on my bike. I can get that collar off too.”

“Thank you,” I whispered with my hand in his.

“It's nothing. I know you'd do the same for me.” Boyd placed his arm around me and led me upstairs.

I realized more time had passed than I thought. Judging by the sun and the heat it was bordering on the mid-afternoon. Upstairs the living room was an absolute mess. Remnants of coke lay on an upturned and cracked mirror and half the kitchen was smashed to pieces. In his rage Jerome must have kicked in the fixtures and thrown anything he could from the counter tops. How I missed all the noise he would have made I'll never know.

“You wait here,” Boyd urged to me in the kitchen. “I'll get the knife.”

I guarded his hand. “Please don't leave me... I don't think I can be alone right now.”

He nodded before wrapping his palm around mine and taking me outside. His Harley, glimmered in the high noon light, stood where Jerome's car once parked.

“I got it hidden... Here.” He raised the knife from out of a hidden compartment on the bike. “Magic!”

“You dad's?”

He smiled, “You remember.”

“How could I forget?”

“OK... Stand still and don't move.” Boyd slipped the sharp knife between my neck and the collar and with a powerful tug slashed its hold on me. It was a relief to have it off, though it left a sore red ring all around my skin.

“What the hell is this place anyway?” Boyd asked while we walked back to the house. “Something about this place ain't right...”

“Jerome said it was the playpen for a dealer friend of his. You know, all that stuff downstairs.”

“Fucking freaks...”

“He makes fantasies reality for anyone who can pay... or something.”

Boyd took me inside, ran warm water from the faucet onto a towel before patting my cuts and tears soothingly.

Words didn't come from my mouth easily. In my heart I knew that none of this reflected on me, but facing someone – hell, your first kid love – after so many years and them seeing you in a fucked up situation such as this only filled me with shame. I shouldn't have thought it, though that was the reality.

He tried to catch my eye. “There we go that's better-”

“Thank you.”

“Huh?”

I spoke up louder, “Thank you, again, Boyd. I don't know what would have happened if-”

“
Shush
... Don't talk like that. We can worry about things like this later. All you need to think about is getting in the shower and me getting you out of here. When you're safe in a hotel and I've spoken to him when he gets back, you won't need to worry about anything ever again.”

The thought of Boyd staying here and waiting for Jerome terrified me. The adult Boyd I had rediscovered certainly didn't show any fear, yet I
knew
Jerome. He wouldn't act with any sense. Especially if someone started asking him why he pulled the stunt he did. That Desert Eagle he carried would jump out grinning.

“Please... We –
the both of us
- have got to go! You can't stay here alone. You can't reason with him. You don't know him.”

“Don't worry. After what he's done to you, reasoning ain't being done.”

“You mean---”

“I mean, the time for talking is over. The MC in Crenshaw swore blind all the merchandise was there when Young left with it. So much so they offered to hunt him down themselves. Even as president, it took a lot to convince my club to let me come up here and make peace. I came here to give him a chance... because of you. But, after seeing how he's treated you, it ain't happening now...”

I took everything Boyd said in. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant. There would be blood and it would be soon flowing. Jerome was in the back of my thoughts. What he had done was all on him. He chose to walk that path and today he would face the consequences. I felt nothing for his future.

“...Now, what I need you to do Cassie is get in that shower. Next we're going to get you some fresh clothes from one of these bedrooms. After that I'm going to give you some cash and you're going to get the hell out of here until this is all done.”

“I don't want to leave you. I'd feel safer for you if I was here too.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the concern, but I'm a big boy now. In any event I'll be calling the MC while you're getting ready. They'll be eager to ride. The time for diplomacy is over. We need might to make things right.”

“I understand... Hey, how a I supposed to get out of here. He drove off and there's no other car.”