Page 29 of Kick

My prez brutalised her and she may have screamed and cried for help, but even bruised and bloody and in more pain than I imagine she was letting on, she remained strong, resilient, defiant. He couldn’t break her, but I just accomplished that feat in a matter of seconds. I knew the second her eyes met mine. I felt it, and I forged ahead anyway when I should have walked away. Sometimes kindness is a far worse weapon than brutality

Fury wells within me. Fury at him, at her, at myself. I take a step back. Prez laughs. It’s a fake, obnoxious sound, and it makes me want to rip his fuckin’ face off. He slaps me on the back. “Jesus, son, those are some magic bloody fingers.”

I shrug out of his hold and put some distance between me and the girl. I don’t trust myself with the taste of her on my tongue. I don’t look at her but at Tank instead, who’s been all too fuckin’ quiet since he walked in. He returns my glare and gives me an imperceptible nod. Is he fuckin’ congratulating me for not attacking our prez? I’ve never wanted to beat the shit out of Tank before, but these last two days have shown me a different side to my brother. A side I badly want to eradicate.

Prez pulls the girl up by her hair. I expect her to scream or cry out, but she does nothing—she just allows him to move her body wherever the fuck he wants. He spins her around to face me, positioning himself behind her as he takes hold of her throat, and his other arm snakes around her waist. Her eyes are red rimmed, glazed and vacant. The rent in her lip has opened up again and blood slowly pools on the surface. Her eye, where Prez beat on her yesterday, is still swollen shut.Jesus Christ. “Take off her pants. You’re not done yet, son.”

I glower at him, ready to tell him to go fuck himself, because I can’t rape this girl, and I know that still makes me scum because with anyone else, if it were the choice between staying alive and following orders, I wouldn’t hesitate. I wouldn’t falter. You do what you have to in order to stay alive, regardless of whether it helps you sleep at night. But not with this girl. Not her. I slide my hand to the knife holstered at my waist and open my mouth to speak when Prez’s phone rings in his pocket. And then Tank’s phone rings, too. Prez tips his chin in Tank’s direction, signalling for him to answer it.

Tank pulls out the phone and his deep baritone fills the room. “What?”

His brow creases–that’s about the only expression you’ll ever get out of the man, unless you make him really mad.

“Fuck.” He hangs up and pockets the phone. “Cops are at the gate, Prez.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ? Can’t a man get fucked in peace?”

“What do we do with the girl? Can’t leave her here. Frogger says they’ve been out there for the last thirty minutes. Can’t come in without a warrant, but that doesn’t mean they’re not getting one.”

“FUCK!” he bellows and releases the girl, throwing her towards me. He stalks to the door, and then turns back to me, pointing. “Get her into the shower, you keep her in there until they pry you two apart. You don’t know nothin’ about no raid, you’re just fucking your old lady on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Got it?”

I nod.

“And you.” He turns his attention on the girl. “You make a fuckin’ sound that isn’t like he’s just fucked the shit outta you, and once those little piggies are gone, I’m gonna let every single one of my boys bury their cock in every fuckin’ hole you have to offer, bitch.”

She doesn’t say anything in response. She doesn’t even flinch. She just continues to stare at the floor as I take hold of her arm and push her forward towards the exit. Prez and Tank are already running ahead of us. There’s shit to hide, incriminating evidence to get rid of, and drugs to flush.

“Don’t try anything stupid. It won’t get you rescued; it’ll only get you dead,” I say to her as we clear the stairs. I open the door leading to the outside, and the light blinds us both. I throw my free hand up to block the sun and the girl takes that opportunity to elbow me in the guts. My reflexes kick in. I let go, because being punched in the gut always feels like someone just shattered your balls with the turn of a vice. She begins screaming for help as she runs, but she’s injured and definitely not quick enough.

I bolt after her, collecting her up by the waist and slamming us onto the asphalt. It hurts like a mother fucker, winds us both, but I recover before her and climb on top of her, holding her arms above her head as she struggles. “I told you not to fuckin’ run, bitch.”

She spits in my face. “Go fuck yourself, you filthy fucking pig.”

“If I didn’t do that shit back there, it would have been so much worse. You want my dick inside you, bitch?”

“Fuck you.”

“We’re both still alive enough to feel the adrenaline runnin’ through our fucking veins because of what I did in that room. You should be fuckin’ thankin’ me.”

“Thanking you? For molesting me? I should be driving that god damn knife at your belt into your heart.”

“This knife?” I ask, unsheathing it. Her eyes dart around wildly, looking for an exit. I take the wickedly sharp blade and slide it down the front of my jeans. “By all means, take it, Princess.”

She glowers at me. I push up off her and pull the knife from my pants. Wouldn’t help to cut off my cock, now would it? That might make our story a little hard to believe. I lean over and grab her arm, and half-walk, half-drag her to the door leading to the clubhouse. Her skin is scraped to hell from our roll on the asphalt. “Run again, and I will slit your throat.”

She struggles, digging her bare feet into the ground. She tries yanking her arm from my grasp, desperate for escape. I tighten my hold and drag her forward. She gasps as the ground scrapes her feet. She might be tall but she’s a little thing, and despite her inner strength, she’s not strong enough to fend me off. I can’t see the gate from this side of the compound, so they sure as shit can’t see or hear us, but I still need to get her inside before the boys in blue are bangin’ down our door.

I open the door to the clubhouse and shove her inside, wedging her up against the wall with my body. I deadbolt the door from the inside, then I drag her, kicking and screaming down the hall to my room before I unlock it and throw her inside.

“Get undressed,” I command. I don’t bother locking the door because the bastards will just kick it down, and then I’ll have to buy a new lock. Instead I grab her by the wrist and lead her to the shower. I shut the bathroom door behind us. The girl stares at me. “Take your fucking clothes off.”

“No.”

“Bitch, I’m getting real tired of you fightin’ me,” I say. “Take your fucking clothes off, or I’ll do it for you.”

She doesn’t move and even though she’s bein’ an obstinate little bitch, under different circumstances I’d fuckin’ love the idea of having to rip the clothes from her body.

I throw her into the shower and turn on the spray, and then I strip her bare while she howls, and kicks, and scratches, and yeah, even bites. She sobs as I push her back under the water. I strip off my shirt and throw it to the floor, and then I unbutton my jeans and shove them down my hips. My cock springs free, jutting upwards, hard for this beautiful mess of a woman with her bruised body and her face all jacked up, as if she just got out of federal prison. I step out of my jeans and throw them in a sopping heap on the floor.

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