Fury over-boiling deep within my belly, I smash the butt of my pistol into Timmons’ temple, and he instantly goes limp. I toss him to the floor and point my gun at Rig. “Timmons’ plaything?” I say in disgust. “Does she look like she’s enjoying it to you?”
Rig takes a step back. “Like I said, you need to chill out. This isn’t club business. It’s between her and Timmons,” he says, motioning towards the girl.
I ignore him and take a step towards the kid. “Darlin’, how old are you?” I say as softly as I can, hoping I won’t scare her more than she already is.
“I’m sixteen,” she says in a faint whisper. Her voice is so weak that I worry she may be hurt even worse than I originally thought.
“Do you think you can walk?” I ask her.
She hesitates for a second then slowly nods.
“Okay, darlin’. I want you to stand up, get your clothes on, and walk out to my bike. It’s the white ‘fat boy’ with the Renegade emblem on the tank.”
She slowly stands up, no doubt trying to avoid as much pain as possible. She stumbles towards a piece of purple material on the floor, and when she slides it over her body, I realize it’s a nearly see-through nighty. “That all you got, babe?”
“They took all my clothes when they gave me this,” she says, running her hand over the nighty with a look of disgust slowly rolling over her battered face.
The finger on the trigger of my piece tenses. I quickly pull off my cut and jerk my T-shirt over my head to toss it in her direction, transferring the gun from hand to hand and never taking the thing off of Rig. She hurriedly snatches the cloth from the ground and clings to it for dear life. “You put that on and go to my bike. If anyone tries to stop you, tell them Chipper has claimed you as his.”
She nods again, then quickly pulls on the shirt and rushes as fast as she can out into the hallway. I wait until she’s gone before I look towards Timmons. It’s time for his stupid ass to wake up, so I give him a hard kick in the ribs. It takes a few more blows before he regains consciousness. “Get your ass up. Now.”
He pushes himself up with his hands, shakes his head, and looks towards me. “Man, you need to put the gun away. There’s no need for you to kill anyone. If you want the girl, take her. No one here will stop you.”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “You’re right. I’ll take her, and ain’t nobody gonna stop me, but you’re wrong about the other shit. I feel like killing someone, but first I gotta figure out which one of you fuckers needs to go down.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, Rig starts to rush me. Without a second thought, I put a bullet in his head then quickly turn the barrel towards Timmons. His entire body begins to shake as a small pool of piss gathers at his feet. As much as I want to blow his fucking head off and paint the walls with his brains, I restrain myself. He’s Killer’s son, and Killer is Pop’s best friend. Shit’s bad enough as it is, but it will get infinitely worse if I kill Timmons.
“I’m not gonna kill you, asshole,” I growl out. “But I am gonna teach you a lesson, and you can relay this message to the rest of your fucking club. No underage kids--ever. I don’t give a fuck who they are. No one touches a kid, and Renegade Sons do not beat or rape women. If I find out that members are continuing to do that shit, this club will be torn the fuck down.”
I spend the next few minutes working him over with my fist and making sure that he hurts every bit as bad as the kid he was just abusing does. By the time I’m done, half the damn club is standing in the hallway watching the show go down. I look towards them until my gaze lands on Killer. As soon as our eyes meet, I toss Timmons’ weakened body to the floor.
Lifting my finger towards Killer, I ground out, “Your son is a piece of shit. Judging by what’s going down in the club, so are you.”
He starts to say something, but I cut him off. “Save your excuses for my father. I’m done here.”
I look towards Brew, the Mateland VP, before motioning to Rig’s body. “Clean this mess up.”
With those words lingering in the air, I leave the room and head out of the club. The first thing I see when I barrel through the thick double doors of the compound is that the girl is standing exactly where I told her to. I can tell just by looking at her that it’s taking everything she has just to stay on her feet. As soon as I reach my bike, I swing onto it and look towards her. “Come on, darlin’. Climb on. Let’s get you home.”
She shakes her head and looks up at me with tear filled eyes. “I don’t have a home anymore.”
Her words cut me straight to the heart. “You do now.”
The man that saved me, the man I prayed for, pulls his bike into a rest stop. When the engine shuts off, he looks back at me. “Jump off, darlin’.”
As soon as I slide off the bike, my legs begin to buckle. He catches me before I hit the ground. “Easy girl, you got enough bruises already.”
I nod my head and slowly back away from him. I look around at the deserted rest stop, and my fear starts to build. “Why did we stop here?” I ask in a shaky voice.
He swings his leg from the bike and takes a step towards me. “I can’t stop somewhere that has people around with you wearing nothing but my shirt, and I knew you’d want to clean up a little. Also, I thought you might be hungry, so that’s why we’re here. They’ve got vending machines, so you can get you some chips and a drink. It ain’t much, but it’ll fill that hole in your belly.”
I haven’t eaten anything since early yesterday morning, and just the thought of food has my mouth watering. “Thank you.”
He lifts his chin and turns to walk into the building. I trail behind him, my hunger overriding my fear. He motions towards the bathrooms. “Go ahead and get cleaned up. Ill grab you something from the machines.”
I rush to the bathroom and do my best to scrub away the filth covering me. As soon as I’m done, I walk out of the bathroom and see the guy that took me away from Timmons talking to another man. As soon as I lay eyes on them, I freeze. Visions of what Timmons and Rig were just doing to me earlier re-play through my brain. The fight or flight instinct immediately kicks in, and without another thought, I start to run.
I barely make it a few feet away from them when a pair of strong arms surrounds me. I immediately start to fight him. I scratch at his hands while biting into his arm. It takes a few minutes before I realize that he isn’t fighting back. He’s just restraining me and doing his best to avoid hurting me. Finally, I admit defeat and go limp. Tears tumble down my face as harsh sobs begin to rock through my body.
My captor places his lips near my ear and whispers, “Shhh now, sweetheart. No one’s going to hurt you.”
I look over my shoulder towards the unfamiliar voice and see that it’s not the man that helped me. “Who are you?”
Still whispering, he replies. “I’m Reese. I’m gonna make sure you get somewhere safe.”
“I never told you my name either, did I, darlin’?” the man that saved me asks as he steps in front of us.
I shake my head in the negative.
“I’m Chipper,” he says. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“I’m Jenna,” I hesitantly reply.
“Okay, Jenna. I know you’re scared as hell, and I don’t blame you, but I promise you, there’s no reason for you to be scared anymore. I swear that you’re safe with us.”
Slowly, Reese releases me and takes a step back. Chipper walks towards me and hands me some chips and a drink. “Why don’t you eat, and then we’ll talk.”
I take the food and walk to one of the wooden picnic tables at the front of the rest area. While I eat, I watch the two men talking. Both seem angry, and I’m not sure why. I don’t think it’s me that they’re pissed at though. I hear Timmons’ name said a time or two, and each time, Chipper seems to grow more agitated.
Two bags of Fritos and a Dr. Pepper later, Chipper leads me back to his bike. “We got to talk, darlin’.”
“Okay,” I whisper out.
“I know you’ve been through hell, and you probably don’t feel like talking about this shit right now, but I need to know how in the hell you got to the Mateland clubhouse.”
I look towards the ground and stay quiet, fearing the truth may cause him to send me back.
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to know,” Chipper says in a calming voice, just as Reese walks up to stand beside him.
Chipper’s gentle voice soothes some of my fears, but not all of them. I know I have to tell him something; I just have to choose what I say carefully. “My mom died. My dad didn’t want me anymore, so he gave me to Timmons.”