Highway Don't Care (Freebirds) (2 page)

BOOK: Highway Don't Care (Freebirds)
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  From what the officer in charge told us, once they received
the call, cruisers were dispatched.  The first officer that arrived
reported seeing a man, but didn’t give chase since he had a victim that needed
medical attention. 

  Although the officer arrived in time to prevent rape, she
still had bruises from head to toe, as well as contusions and scrapes on her
knees, elbows, hands, chest, and face.  

  I pulled up in front of my rooms and shut the truck
off.  Max was standing in front of his place with a blank face, and a beer
bottle dangling from his thumb and pointer finger.  I nodded at him as I
rounded the truck and opened Em's door.  She was knocked out on
painkillers thankfully; otherwise, she would have never let me go to drive us
home.

  Max stopped in to check on her when he dropped my truck
off, and she told him to go home because she was a big girl.  No one
commented that she had yet to let me go.  Max had given her a soft kiss on
the forehead and then took off shortly after.  He wasn't doing well, even
though he was hiding it good.  It was only obvious to us since we’d been
in life or death situations more times than we could count, and knew each other
very well.  He was tied in knots, and if he didn't get himself
straightened out, he would blow.  Neither one of us was happy that Ember
was beaten, and almost raped; that put both of us so close to the edge I wasn’t
sure I could keep myself from falling over it.

  Ember woke when we made it to the bedroom, and gave me a
small smile.

  "Can I borrow some clothes?”  Ember whispered.

  I turned and grabbed some basketball shorts from the top of
my dresser, as well as a t-shirt that I had worn earlier that day.  I
handed them to her and she laughed.

  "I told you I'd get this shirt from you!”  She
said jovially.

  I smiled at her, kissed her nose, and left the room giving
her some space to get changed.  I knew she needed to do this on her own so
I left her to it.

  I couldn't help but smile when I remembered about the
t-shirt.

  I was working on my bike in the garage when she came up
behind me and ran her hand over my back.  She had never willingly touched
me before and I was surprised that she had.  According to Cheyenne I made
her nervous, and she didn't like being out of her comfort zone.

  "I love this shirt.  Can I have it?”  Ember
asked me.

  "Over my dead body.”  I replied.

  "It looks old anyhow, why does it matter. 
Please?”  She whined, and then rolled her lower lip over and gave me a
pleading look.

  I rolled my eyes and ignored her.  I was
serious.  This was my favorite shirt, and

I’d have to have a really good reason to give it up, and she
hasn't give me a good enough one yet.

"Why do you like it?  You can go get one from a mall in
Dallas easily.”  I said.

"Because it looks so soft.  I love the saying, too,
though.  “She said.

  The navy blue shirt had a star on the left breast and on
the back in white writing it said, "You all can go to hell.  I’m
going to Texas." on it.  My mother purchased it, and then sent it to
me in Afghanistan.  I received the shirt, and three days later received
the news that she’d died.  It was as if she’d known she wasn’t going to
make it, and sent me some things that would make me think of her.

  The shirt was more sentimental than anything else I owned,
and I wore it sparingly now that it was looking so used and abused. 
During my army days, I would wear it under my BDUs while on missions.  It
seemed to be my lucky shirt, on top of my favorite.  It's a miracle that
it’s lasted so long.  Pure luck.  I’d been shot twice while wearing
it, and neither time was it life threatening.

  Ember came out a few minutes later drowning in my
clothes.  She was so gorgeous though.  Her thick hair hung to just
above her pert ass, curling at the bottom just slightly.  With it down, I
noticed the similarities between her and Cheyenne’s hair.  Both had long
blonde hair, but that is where the similarities ended.  Cheyenne’s was a
riot of curls, whereas Ember’s hung like a sheet down the length of her
back.  Only on the rarest of occasions had I even seen Ember’s hair
down.  Normally it was bundled up into a ball at the top of her head.

  Her face was void of makeup, and the scrapes and bruising
stood out starkly against her white complexion.  The shirt made her look
like her chest was non-existent, but I knew there were two perky beautiful
breasts rubbing against the softness of my shirt that swallowed her
whole.  The green shorts fell below her knees allowing me to see the
bandages covering her scraped knees.  When her eyes met mine, my knees
shook.  The pale blue of her eyes looked dull, almost like there was
little life left in them.

  She came to a halt about three feet from me, looking so
lost that I opened my arms for her and she didn't even hesitate.  She
walked right into them, and wrapped her arms around my back making fists while
clenching the back of my shirt.

  "Are you ready to talk about it?”  I asked her.

  "No.  But I will anyway.”  She said.

  I walked her to the kitchen chair and sat her down very
carefully to avoid the wound on her back.

  "Are you hungry?  Thirsty?”  I asked.

  "Have any coke?”  She asked.

  Walking to the fridge, I rolled my eyes.  I wasn’t
even going to touch the ‘coke’ comment.  Picking up a Mountain Dew from
the top shelf, I handed it over.

  Eyes wide at the realization that I had her favorite drink;
she held out her hand and muttered, “Thanks.”

  I kept the drinks just in case she happened to show
up.  I wasn’t going to into why I did this, since it wasn’t something I
was ready to acknowledge quite yet.

Ember

“I was walking out to my car from the side entrance to the
gym.”  I said.

  I fiddled with the tab on the coke can, flicking it back
and forth until it broke off at the letter g.

Ember

 

  "I was walking out to my car from the side entrance to
the gym.”  I said.

  I fiddled with the tab on the coke can and flicked it back
and forth until it broke off at the letter g.

  I’ve done this game since I was a little girl, normally
breaking the tab off at the desired letter of the alphabet that was the first
letter of my crush’s name.  This time I didn’t have to, it came off on its
own.  Hell yes.  I started to do a little shimmy until the stabbing
pains from the knife slice on my back brought me back to the moment.

  I looked up and saw that Gabe was patiently waiting for me
to continue. Apparently, I’ve done this before.  Often times I find myself
thinking about random stuff in the middle of conversations.  It always
starts little, and then my mind wanders, and before I know it I’m thinking
about what pair of panties would feel the most uncomfortable to wear.

  A throat clearing brought me back the second time.

  "Anyway, I just saw two of the kids get in the car and
drive off when I turned to lock the gym up.  I walked around the corner of
the gym heading towards my car when a large body slammed into me."

  I took slow calming breaths to calm myself, trying to slow
my heart rate.  My heartbeat didn't speed because of the attempted
rape.  No, it was speeding because Gabe was looking at me with death in
his eyes.

  Don't get me wrong, I’m scared that I was beaten and almost
raped.  I'm more upset because I wasn't able to defend myself.  I
never wanted to be that vulnerable again.

  I also never wanted to see Gabe look like this again. 
If I didn't know him as well as I did, I’d be freaking out.  As it is, my
heart and breathing sped up.  I also was developing a little bit of over
active pit sweat.

  Furthermore, it turned me on.  The fierce protective
look in his eyes did something weird inside of me.  It was almost as if my
heart knew that he was pissed off enough to kill someone, and it was all
because I was hurt.  His fists clenched at his sides, veins popping out,
skating like ropes all the way up his arm.  Sparks flew out of his eyes. 
His muscles bulged and then relaxed, as if he was physically keeping himself in
the chair.  All of this because of little old me.

 

Chapter 2

 

Four wheels move the
body, two wheels move the soul.

-Biker truth

 

Gabe

 

"What next?" I asked her.

  The question came out sounding calm and remote.  Which
couldn't have been further from the truth. My mind was fighting my body, my
body wanted to kill the "almost" rapist.  To pull him apart with
a pair of pliers, one chunk of flesh at a time.  Starting with his dick.

  My mind however knew that I needed to calm myself and focus
on Ember because it was possible she knew more than what she thought she did.

 I made myself remain sitting in the kitchen chair, looking
calm cool and collected.  The can of Coors in my hand didn't receive the
same fate. It had long since bit the dust.  It was completely crushed, and
now that I thought about it, my hand ached from the grip I had around the
crushed aluminum.

  Not like it mattered.  There was a sharp pain
somewhere in the vicinity of my heart that overshadowed any other pain I had.

  I had a fucked up childhood.  On top of my shit
upbringing, my three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan only compounded my
problems. 

  "He tackled me from behind.  I was stunned at
that point and didn't react much until he grabbed my hair and ground my face
into the gravel.

I was on my stomach when I felt the burn run down my back. I was
screaming and trying to fight back, but he was a lot stronger than me. Luckily
I had my phone in my hand and was able to speed dial you. I got knocked out at
some point, when I woke the guy was gone and there were a few police officers walking
up to me. You know what happened from that point.”  She said in a flat
voice with no emotion at all.

  I studied her face, and sure, she looked frightened, but
what also was there was fierce anger.  The type of anger that makes you
sloppy, and can get you into hot water if you're not careful.  During a
fight, anger can be used against you.  I needed Em to get past the anger,
because it was going to wear her down if she didn't get it under control.

  "What's wrong?  I mean other than the
obvious.  What else is going through that head of yours?”  I asked
her.

 "I'm so fucking pissed at myself.  I never should
have left there so late, and if I did, I really should have had someone with
me.  I was also useless.  I couldn't fight back.”  She
whispered.

  I got up, and then dropped to my knees in front of
her.  I traced the bruises on her jaw lightly with the knuckle of my
pointer finger.

  "I'll teach you how to defend yourself, honey. 
You'll never feel like this again.  Do you know how to shoot a pistol?” 
I asked her while staring into her eyes.

  Ember's eyes were hazel.  Sometimes they were blue,
others they were green, and even brown in the right light.  Now they were
a deep vivid green.

  Ember leaned forward and ran her nose along the bridge of
mine. 

  "Thank you for coming, Gabe.”  She said and
lightly kissed me on the cheek.

  My hands itched to grab hold of her hair, burying
themselves, just to see if her hair was as soft as it looked.  Giving in
to the urge, I let my fingers run through her hair.  It was so silky
smooth.  Most women's hair I touched had a stiff feeling to it, but
Ember's was light, cool, and smooth.  Her hair was an odd shade of blonde,
white blonde with reddish hues to it when she moved, especially in the
sunlight.

Since she said leaving it down made it into a rat’s nest, very
rarely was it down, so I continued to play with it since it was a once in a
lifetime opportunity.

  I’ve also never taken these types of privileges
before.  I knew that the likes of her was too good for the likes of
me.  However, after the scare tonight, I decided that she was going to be
mine, whether I deserved her or not.  I would give her everything and do
anything she asked.  Except let her go.

  "And yes, I can shoot a pistol.  I can also shoot
a rifle, a shot gun, and a submachine gun.”  She said with a smile.

  "How do you know you can shoot a submachine
gun?”  I asked curiously.

  She gave me a wide smile that showed off her beautiful
straight teeth.

  "James and Max took Cheyenne and I once.  They
got us guest passes and we drove up to their base over a long weekend.  It
was a blast.”  She said.

  I let out a deep laugh when I saw the satisfaction on her
face.  She would enjoy something like that.

  "Alright, in that case, I have a .38 you can
have.  I want you to carry it on you from now on, but not in your purse,
on your person.  We can get you a pancake holster for your back, or an
ankle holster.  Whatever you want, but I want you to carry it on you at
all times from now on.  We will go to the range as soon as you feel up to
it and test your reaction time.  Got it?”  I asked.

BOOK: Highway Don't Care (Freebirds)
11.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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