Chapter 12
1122 Words
Mike
“I gotta beat ya up now,” Jace tells me.
I stare at him. “What?”
Jace stands up and walks over to me, then points to the door. “Those guys out there think you are exiled. I can’t have you just stroll out. Either you get thrown out or beat up. Your choice. I have to keep everyone thinking that we are not on the same page here.”
Raking a hand through my hair, I think about those options. “I could just beat you up and walk out.” I grin at him.
“Ha, ha. Very funny. You know I gotta look like the head honcho around here. I need to prove that I can take care of myself and this club. You can’t just walk out unscathed, Red.” His eyes are regretful, but I understand what he means.
To be president of the club, one has to prove that he’s worthy of the title and a part of that is to show who is in charge and in control.
“Fine,” I sigh.
He puts his hands on his hips and gives me a questioning look. “Really? Just like that?”
I shrug. “I get it. Let’s do this.”
“Alright, but just so you know, you’ll be waking up in my old room, handcuffed to the bed. When we all get back from our trade run this afternoon, I’ll just tell everyone you must have escaped. I’ll leave the keys for you on the nightstand – just keep them because I don’t want anyone figuring it out.”
Stupid Jace is becoming… less stupid. Am I in a twilight zone?
I open my arms and say, “Bring it on.”
He cracks a couple of knuckles then looks me in the eye. “This is gonna hurt.”
His right hooks always do.
Jace brings his arm back and then there’s a tight sting in the middle of my face. Everything goes black.
****
“No one will ever love you, boy! You are unworthy of it. You’re just a piece of w*********h,” my grandpa Chuck growls as he hits me with his belt.
The leather sears my skin, I can feel the welts building, pulsating. It burns, it doesn’t stop.
Slash.
I can’t cry. If I cry, it will show emotion. Emotion is wrong and if he sees that I feel anything at all - he’ll beat me more.
“You are scum!” He shouts. “You run for help and expect someone to help a low-life like you?” He laughs.
Slash.
My body tenses - I shouldn’t have done that.
“You flinch, boy? I’ll give you something to flinch about,” he grounds near my ear.
I hear a click of a lighter then smell nicotine. I hate the smell of nicotine.
Footsteps grow closer as does the smell. Being tied in a position to take the slashings of his belt makes it hard to see what’s going to happen. My head is buried down between my legs under my tied arms which are latched to my ankles. Sitting in just my boxers on the wooden floor of the spare room – his room – I’m forced to take the beatings for my own stupidity.
I got caught trying to talk with the police in efforts of putting grandpa in jail for the abuse that he gives. I should have known that he had connections with the law.
A sudden sting buries deep into my shoulder blade, it burns worse than the lashings. It twists and burrows into my flesh as he applies more pressure. I refuse to scream, to show pain. Instead, I bite my lower lip and squeeze my eyes shut.
This is the first time he’s burned me, but it won’t be the last…
I jerk at the feeling of metal clasped around my wrist; there’s a feeling of something wonderful scraping through my hair on my scalp.
Upon opening my eyes, I have a fantastic view of round, creamy, perky breasts falling out of a black tank top.
Too big to be Elena.
What the?
“Good morning, handsome,” the familiar feminine voice croons.
Wait. I know that voice.
No.
The feelings of soft lips graze my forehead. I close my eyes. This can’t be happening.
“You know, I’m a little surprised that you’re back. Given the fact that you aren’t club president anymore and that you’re working for Randall. I must say, when I walked in and saw you cuffed to the bed – I was more than delighted because honey… We need to talk,” the brunette woman purrs into my ear.
I jerk away from her enough to see her face. “What do you want, Kara?” Even that sounded salty to my own ears.
She lets me move away for the drawer on the nightstand and true to his word, I find the key for the cuffs. I unlock myself and stand away from the bed to see Kara sitting on her knees, pouting those lush red lips, and… a small swell on her stomach.
Oh s**t.
“I just want to talk,” she says innocently.
It’s not mine. It can’t be. We had s*x, what? Like two months ago. Three months ago?
Pointing an angry finger at her stomach, I growl, “What the hell is that?”
Her hands possessively hold her belly as she says, “It’s our baby.”
“Bullshit,” I say evenly. It can’t be. I practice safe s*x. I don’t f**k around without gloving up.
She gets defensive and crawls off the bed to stand before me. “It is yours, Mike.” Those brown eyes don’t waver as she holds my gaze. Her bottom lip begins to tremble. “I thought you’d be happy.”
Happy? Do I look happy? My nostrils flare, I can feel the vein in my head start to throb. The eyes in my sockets are about to burst out, I can feel it. Red.
I see red.
My emotions are in check though. I refuse to show her anything other than my stone-cold stare.
How could this have happened? I was safe, dammit! I don’t love this woman. That kid in her belly is not mine.
…It can’t be.
***Thank you for reading my story! I appreciate you all so much! Here is the third chapter for the week!
Oh boy. I just started writing and this is what happened. I, myself would even like to know how this plays out lol. Better yet. How in the world will Elena find out? ****
- Writer
