Page 3 of Nitro
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Rooster leans forward in his seat, annoyed that I’m bringing problems to him.
“Rooster, look around man. This isn’t a MC anymore, for fuck's sake half of these motherfuckers can’t even ride. They just want to be in the boys' club and we have the doors open to anyone who wants to fucking join. This isn’t a club for the best of the best anymore this is a fucking zoo. They're trying to ass rape people so they can have a bitch, like fucking prison. Is that what we are now? Is this the clink?” I take a breath when I finish what I have to say.
Rooster doesn’t reply right away, instead he just takes a swig of his beer. His eyes scan the crowd around us. There are people in the corners getting sucked off by other men who weren’t gay when they came in here. Others are shooting shit in their veins. Some are even curled up in the fetal position to get some sleep, this isn’t what anyone should be calling home. This is a fucking insane asylum, and not one of those regulated ones either. I’m talking about the kind you see in all those fucked up movies.
“Yeah, I know. This shit is getting old, but I did what I set out to do. We needed soldiers and we got them. We don’t need smart motherfuckers on the frontlines, we just need bodies to take the bullets.” Rooster winks at me and gets down from his seat, leaving me dumbfounded with my mouth hanging open.
If he isn’t planning to stay here with the rest of the Purged, what are we doing all this shit for? I follow him out of the entertainment tunnel and walk to the very back where he'd set up for church to take place. It’s the cleanest area out of everywhere since Rooster doesn’t let anyone in here, but those that would sit at the table—him, me, and Lefty who is the Sargent at Arms.
“Rooster, what the hell is going on?”
He opens one of the safes where we keep some of the goods that the rest of the club brings back. We rarely hawk anything; we really don’t have a need for money. Anything Rooster wants he either makes someone give us or we steal it. No, all the booty the rest of the club steals is just to prove their loyalty.
“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t see?” He asks as he closes the safe and sits in the chair that’s at the head of the table.
Fear rockets up my spine. He fucking knows. He knows that Shepard had sent me here to spy on him. “See what?” My voice is clear, but I feel like I have a rock lodged deep in my throat.
“That we need to move on to bigger and better things. I know that you see it too, that’s why you’ve been so bitchy. This isn’t the way we’re supposed to be living.”
I let out a deep breath.
“Yeah man, this isn’t what I left the Spawns for.” I tell him and in that second, I see fury spark in his eyes. He hates when I bring up the Spawns.
“You left the Spawns, because Shepard thought he was a fucking leader. He thought he would just slide in there and take my place, but that will never fucking happen. There will be no other president better than me for the Spawns.” Rooster says between gritted teeth.
“With all due respect Rooster, Shepard didn’t have people trying to rape other men and shooting up in the corners either.” I know I shouldn’t say it, but I can’t hold my tongue any longer.
Rooster’s hand flies out and grabs me by the back of the neck, “I hear you.” He squeezes hard before he lets me go, “But did he have connections with some of the biggest names in the underground world. I do, and finally those connections are starting to pay off. We’re going to meet up with Bull from the Drift Demons. They have a few precious commodities that they need to off load. We’re going to get into the auction business.” He smiles and goes back to his chair.
Auctions? We have deals with the mob through the Vavra family, we’re smuggling other goods through Rupert Giles, and we have been in close connection with Yemen who used to be the leader in auctions. In every instance, Rooster and the Purged has never been more than a hired gun, what the hell does he know about auctioning off women?
Tink
The skin around my mouth is sore from the gag constantly rubbing against it. I don’t even open my mouth to scream at anyone anymore. Every time I do the blisters on the side of my mouth split back open and I end up tasting blood for the rest of the day. I’m too tired to go through that. Especially since I no longer have any hope that I’m going to be getting out of here. When they had first kidnapped me from my home, I was sure that my cousin and the rest of the men from the Wings of Diablo would be busting down the door at any second to get me. Only now after more than a month in this rank dirty basement, I’m not so sure. It feels like they’ve forgotten about me or I wasn’t that important to begin with. Sure, I think Shyne would have fought to come find me. Though if he were to go up against the entire club there would be nothing that he could do about it.
I always thought being related to an MC member would keep me safe. Of course, there are always problems that arise and people that want to hurt the members based on who they are. Despite that I never once thought that I would be a target just because of who my cousin is.
A loud moan comes from the right side of the room and I stomp my feet to get the girl’s attention. I don’t know her name. She’s been gagged from the moment she was tossed in here with us. She looks like she’s in her early twenties like me and she’s built like a fucking brick house. When they dropped her in here, she had on a stripper's outfit. I hate to think that they are just picking people up from the street now, but that’s what it’s looking like.
Strip Tease, the name I’ve made up for her in my head, sniffs one good time before she looks over at me.
I shake my head once deliberately to let her know that she should stop crying. I use my body to deliver the message that my mouth cannot. I straighten my spine and pull my shoulders as far back as I can. I want her to be strong. She has to be, because being weak in here will do nothing but make it so the Drift Demons have another body to beat on. I’ve seen a few people coming in and out over the past few weeks. Though whatever plan they had for us must have fallen through, because over the last few days I’ve noticed that Bull the leader of the car club has become more and more agitated every time he comes in to check on us.
Striptease nods her head like she understands what I’m saying, she sits up straight and tries to wipe her eyes on her shoulders. It’s hard to do anything with our hands tied to our waists the way that they are. There are twelve of us down here, but there is only one who has been here longer than me. The others that were here when I was brought in have already either been killed or are missing. It doesn’t take much for these bastards to lose control.
The loud buzzer sounds letting us know that they are about to start pouring in the water for us to drink. They feed us like we’re animals. Water is sprayed down to us via hose and our food is thrown on the floor at our feet. If we want to eat, we have to do so on our hands and knees. Neither happens every day. Today is a water day. We need to drink all we can today, because tomorrow we won’t have any water. The hose is lowered through a small slit in the ceiling before it is turned on full blast. The twelve of us all stand under the powerful stream of water and do our best to take huge mouth fulls of water through the cloth gag. After about three minutes of taking in enough water to distend my belly I have to back away. There’s no reason in trying to take in more than my body can handle. The cloth will stay wet for a long while so I’ll be able to get a bit more water later if I can squeeze it out with my mouth.
The water is turned off and one of the other girls, Pinky, the name I’ve given her, starts to sob. She must not have gotten a lot to drink. It’s hard to figure out how with the gag. It had took me almost a week to realize that the only way was to let the water saturate the gag and drip into my mouth. I use my shoulder to push her into a standing position. She doesn’t want to look at me. For some reason, I’ve become the leader even if I don’t want to be. These women will all break down at the drop of a hat if they don’t have someone to tell them to be strong. Even if I can’t use my words, I can help them just by being here with them. If they are going to make it through this, they need to be strong.
I press my head to Pinky’s trying to give her some support. When she doesn’t stop crying, I move back and look at the other women in the room. I gesture with my head that they should come over. Of course, they do, there isn’t much that they won’t do for me. It’s amazing, because there is only one girl in the room that has ever even heard my voice.
We all huddle around Pinky trying to console her. After a few minutes of her sobbing, she quiets down and I guide her as best as I can to sit on the ground. She shuffles to her side and lays her head on my lap. I bounce my leg softly as she falls asleep. I can’t run my fingers through her hair or rub her back like I would in this situation, but I can let her know that I’m here.
That’s all I can do now. Before I was nothing more than a family member of one of the most respected motorcycle clubs in Louisiana, now I’m the leader of a band of kidnapped silent women.
* * *
“Hey! Wake the hell up I said!”