Page 1 of Sinful Need
Chapter 1
Fuel
7 years earlier
Drops of sweat bead on my forehead as the merciless afternoon sun beats down on my motionless body. My heart is thudding in my chest and the warm oozing of blood trickles from my ear. I lay still, afraid to draw a breath even as I spot the vultures circling overhead. They can smell the bloodshed around me, waiting to strike. Waiting to make me their next meal, if the coyotes don’t get to me first.
Storm turns his back on me and joins up with the club waiting for him by their bikes. “Welcome to the Viper’s Den, Storm. Let’s upgrade that patch.”
The vibration of their engines rumble through my body as their bikes roar to life. I lay motionless, only exhaling when the sound fades in the distance, recalling the events of the past three months and wondering how the hell I landed myself in this situation.
Three months earlier
In a flash my life shattered into a million pieces, leaving me disorientated, navigating my way through the rubble. Ripped from my home in the middle of the night and dumped in this hell hole. The walls seem to close in on me, painted a lifeless white, mocking my despair. I avoid eye contact with the staff who barely acknowledge my presence. They have as much empathy as the police officers and the social worker did the night they told me my brother was dead.
They look at me with the same disdain everyone else in this town does. My brother Brady was all I had in this world. I was ten when my mother skipped out on us and I never knew my father. It had been Brady and I for so long, I don’t even remember anything else. Brady was a good man. He worked hard and while he may have had a few run-ins with the law, he did what he had to do to keep us together. Brady was eight years older than me and he was my protector, my shield against this cruel world.
It’s been two weeks since my brother Brady accidentally wrapped his Jeep around a telephone pole. Fourteen days trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from. For the first time in my life, I’m on my own, completely and utterly alone. The sounds of the rowdy cafeteria echo in my ears as I drag the tray along the sticky counter. The server behind it is the only one to offer a slight hint of a smile. She’s seen it all before, I'm sure. Kids like me, lost and broken, thrown into this miserable place without a lifeline. She spoons a pile of grayish-white slop onto the slotted cardboard plate on my tray, followed by greens that remind me of baby snot and a hockey puck passing as meat. The grim, colorless food they serve makes my stomach churn. It's like a tasteless reminder of the life I once had. I turn from the line and search the crowd of sneering faces for an open place to sit. Finally spotting one, I make my way towards the table in the far back of the cafeteria trying to ignore the taunts.
"Target practice. Three…Two…One…"
I dodge spoonful’s of mashed potatoes flung at me and hang my head.
“Don’t cry, we’re just having fun.”
My heart tightens in my chest. As I reach the table, a kid twice my size slides over swallowing up the empty space.
“There’s no room for crybabies here.” The cafeteria erupts in a roar of laughter.
Crying is the one thing I haven’t done. I’m weak, scared and out of my element but I haven’t had time to grieve. A place like this doesn’t allow for those luxuries.
I have no appetite. My stomach lurches, the nausea retching and twisting my gut. With a heavy sigh, I make my way to the door and dump the untouched tray of food into the garbage. The clatter of the tray echoing my despair. There's no way I can face another night of this.
I shove through the cafeteria doors, letting them swing wildly behind me but only partially drowning out their cruel, mocking laughter. I roam the sterile hallways, my stomach churning at the unfamiliar sour stench mixing with the smell of bleach. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz, sending shivers down my spine. By the time I reach the stairs, I feel helpless. Tears are burning at the corners of my eyes but I know I have to hold them in. My heartbeat sounds like thunder in my ears with every heavy step I take up another flight of stairs.
I push on towards my room, where I can be alone with my grief. Reaching the hallway on the fourth floor, I find the door to my room. With trembling hands, I push it open and enter. It's a stark, small space, but it offers the solitude I need. My bed is nothing more than a worn-out mattress on a metal frame, but it feels like a lifeline right now.
I don't turn on the dim overhead light. Instead, I sit on the edge of my bed, knees pulled to my chest. I stare at thefloor, replaying memories of my brother in my mind. My grief is a heavy weight that presses down on me, and I can't help but finally let the silent sobs lose.
I must have fallen asleep, because I’m woken by a light rap on my door followed by the slow creak as it opens. I shrink further into myself, this nightmare just keeps getting worse. I know who it is by the smell of his musky cologne. Every night since I’ve been here, the same guard has come to my room. Each night he gets more and more brazen with his approach. I may be a coward but I'm not stupid. I know what he’s doing with his friendly act. Like a vulture he circles, playing with his prey. Testing the waters for how far he can push my desperation to his sick, twisted advantage.
“I noticed you didn’t eat dinner.” He states, his feet shifting closer. “I brought you a snack.”
He tosses me a bag. I don’t touch it. I don’t even look at it. If I show any ounce of acceptance, things will get worse. So much worse.
My voice trembles as I try to sound tough. "I’m not hungry."
“I can make your time here easier, if you let me.” The metal bed frame creaks under his weight when he sits down on the edge of my bed.
This is not happening tonight. Not any night. I've never been good at standing up for myself, but there’s no one left to protect me. If I don’t do it. Nobody will.
“Leave me alone.” I jump off my bed wanting to put as much distance between myself and the guard as I can.
He rounds on me, grabbing my shoulder with a hard squeeze. I wince at the pain of his tight grip. With a forceful shove, he pushes me down and flings me around like a ragdoll. “The hard way it is.”
I’m no match for his strength. My eyes dart around the room, desperately looking for an escape. I try to scream but fear and embarrassment catches the sound in my throat. The other boys can’t find out, the bullying will never stop if they know.
I hear the metallic clang of his belt buckle and desperation fuels me. I muster up all my strength and thrust my head backwards, cracking his nose with the impact. His hands let go of me and dart to his face. I thrust myself over and draw my legs up, kicking them into his balls as hard as I can. He bellows from the pain and collapses to the floor. “You’re fucking dead boy.”
