Desolate Souls (Forgotten Souls MC, #1) (5 page)

I grab the brown bottle off the worn dresser and down a few pills quickly, hoping to calm myself. I am using more and more just to cope and it isn’t helping our financial situation any, but I can’t do it without them.

Making my way into the bathroom, I shred my clothes, tossing them aside. Standing in front of the mirror, I avoid my reflection as I begin to quickly wash away the remnants of the man from earlier just to go out and do it all over again.

Swallowing hard, I take in my reflection in the mirror. “You are nothing. You will never be anything but the whore you are, so suck it up and get over it,” I say to the image looking back at me.

Drying the tears from my eyes, I quickly touch up my makeup and head for the door, leaving Alana Jacobs behind. She is dead and has been for a long time.

S
taring out into the yard, I watch in amusement as Tiny approaches Deuce. Fucker has a lot of balls thinking he can take on a man like Deuce. He may be slightly smaller than Tiny, but he is twice as fuckin’ strong and there’s no doubt who’s gonna win. Plus, I always have Deuce’s back and everyone in this place knows it. Fuck with Deuce, and you have me in your face and vice versa.

They exchange a few words, making no hostile movements to alert the guards. Neither of them is willing to take a chance out here. Too many witnesses, but it will eventually go down and my money is on Deuce. He’s taken down every fucker that has gotten a wild hair up their ass and thought they could take him on. Fools, every last one of them.

Tiny walks away, glaring at Deuce over his shoulder as he crosses the yard. Shaking his head, Deuce makes his way over to me. “What’s up?” he asks as if nothing just happened before taking a seat beside me.

“Just thinking,” I mutter, looking at the ground. Only Deuce knows the real me, the person I truly am on the inside. I am practiced at putting on a front, one that everyone is fearful of. No one knows that behind this killer’s eyes is a man that is filled with pain and regret.

“We’re outta this joint in a few months,” he reminds me. Lucky for me, Deuce has been with me every step of the way. He has been my partner in crime from day one.

“Yeah,” I say, not looking forward to our release as much as I should.

“The club’s throwing us one hell of a party when we get out,” he reminds me. Booze and lots of pussy. Every fuckin’ man’s dream but it isn’t enough.

“Can’t wait,” I tell him, although my tone says otherwise.

He looks over at me, shaking his head, before rising to his feet. “You gotta quit beatin’ yourself up. We ended it and she’s safe now. She’s probably living the high life while we’re sittin’ here countin’ the days till we’re outta this joint.” He walks off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

He is right. Alana is probably living out her dreams, far away from this place. She has probably long forgotten about me. That’s good, at least for her. She deserves happiness more than anyone I know.

“Lana?” I call out as I walk into the kitchen. It isn’t like Alana to miss school, even when she is deathly ill. She is the only person I know that has, or at least had before today, perfect attendance. Worried about her, I decided to skip out on my last two classes of the day, needing to make sure she is alright. What started as mere friendship between us has developed into more, although I will never let her know that. She sees me as a brother and best friend, and if that is all I can get from her, I’ll take it.

I make my way up the stairs, pausing outside her bedroom door. I can hear her inside, sobbing. My first instinct is to leave her alone. I’ve never been good dealing with tears, especially where Alana is concerned. I start to walk towards my room when I hear her trembling voice.

“Please...” she begs.

“I love to hear you beg, princess. Makes me so fuckin’ hard.” I freeze at the sound of Phil’s voice. “Bend over or you know what will happen.”

“You promised!” she cries out.

“And you made promises too. Or are you going back on our little agreement?” His voice is cold, unlike anything I’ve heard from him in a very long time.

“No!” she sobs. “Just don’t hurt Jackson!”

He laughs, the sound echoing through the hallway. “I won’t touch the little bastard. Bend over and spread your legs.”

My life changed at that very moment. The hatred I had felt for Phil multiplied exponentially in an instant. How could I have been so naive to think the abuse we both had suffered had just stopped? In my young mind, I honestly thought he had received therapy or some shit. Instead, he had focused on Alana alone, abusing her in the most unthinkable of ways. I knew I had to get us both out of that place, I just didn’t know how. Running away wasn’t an option because he had always stopped us or found us. So I chose my only option. Going to the counselor at school seemed like a good idea, but my plan backfired. I quickly learned who I was dealing with. Phil Martin’s pull in town was indescribable. Not only did they ignore my cry for help, they yanked me away from Alana, labeling me as nothing more than a troublemaker.

When I was placed in the Wilke’s Group Home, I met Danny, or Deuce as he likes to be called. He was different from the other kids, having never been beaten, mistreated, or abandoned. He was there for an entirely different reason. Both his parents were locked up and with no immediate family, he was placed into foster care. It was only temporary, he had told me.

I listened to him for hours telling me about his dad’s club. The Forgotten Souls MC were notorious and stories of them spread across town on a regular basis, but none of them were as he described. He spoke of loyalty and brotherhood, something I had never experienced.

I had been at Wilke’s a week when I broke down and told Deuce my story. When I described what I had overheard Alana going through, he had been enraged. “
People like that don’t change
,” he had told me. I knew he was right, but what could I do? I had tried to get help, and look where it had gotten me.

“Sometimes, you have to take matters into your own hands.” His gaze was cold and heartless. “There’s only one way to stop a monster like that.”

I swallow hard at his words. He doesn’t have to tell me what he means. I hate Phil Martin more than any one person in my life, but I’m not a murderer. Could I go through with killing someone in cold blood?

“If he’s doing the things you say, it’s only gonna get worse. You can end this. You have to,” he says, his eyes locked with mine. “We will end this.”

I nod my head, but am still reluctant. To be honest, the idea scares the hell out of me. All it takes is one simple question from Deuce to settle it. “You love her, don’t you?”

I’d been in love with Alana Jacobs since I first laid eyes on her. She means everything to me.  “I do,” I admit.

That day, we formed an unbreakable bond. We became brothers in every sense of the word and there was no turning back. I looked to him for guidance, knowing what had to be done but unable to go through with it alone.

The trek to the Martin’s house takes us close to an hour. It is warm outside and I am sweating profusely, but it’s not because of the weather. My nerves have gotten the best of me.

I stare up at the two story house that looks like the perfect home in the dim moonlight. This could’ve been paradise for Alana and I, but instead had become a living nightmare, more so for her than me. Tonight, that all comes to an end. She will be free and she will heal in time, never knowing I had anything to do with what is about to occur. I, on the other hand, will live with this for the rest of my life.

The faint light from the lamp in the living room is the only illumination coming from inside the structure. It is well past midnight and I expect everyone is asleep.

“You still wanna go through with this?” Deuce whispers. I nod my head, not trusting my voice. “Alright. Best point of entry?” he asks.

I motion towards the back of the house as I step forward, taking lead, stopping only when I reach the back steps. Reaching down, I lift the pot containing an array of flowers and pull the spare key out. Slowly, I climb the steps, vaguely aware that Deuce is inches behind me.

Silently, I unlock the back door and step inside the kitchen, the pungent aroma of tonight’s dinner still wafting in the air. Pot roast, I think to myself, before brushing the thought aside. Deuce closes the door behind him and comes to stand beside me.

“Well?” he whispers, urging me to lead the way. I am frozen in this one spot, unable to move. Fear grips me for what I am about to do. “If you’re having second thoughts, we can bail.”

I vehemently shake my head. No. Walking away won’t change anything for Alana. Taking a deep breath, I take a step forward, freezing at the sound of Alana’s whimpers. I turn towards the basement door, gazing down at the faint light coming from underneath.

“Take it you fuckin’ whore!” Phil’s voice carries into the kitchen, sounding as though he is in the room with us.

I jump back as the basement door opens and Janet steps through the threshold, her eyes landing on me in shock. Before I can react, Deuce steps forward, clamping his hand over her mouth. “Make a fuckin’ sound and I’ll slit your fucking throat!” he says as he presses his blade against her neck.

Her eyes are wide with fear as she nods. Janet Martin is just as evil as her husband. She stood by watching her husband beat Alana and me unmercifully, and now she is allowing this to happen. She is as much to blame as he is. Fear is no excuse for what she has done, or what she has refused to do.

Anger takes hold. Pulling out my knife, I lunge towards her, pushing Deuce aside. “At one time, I felt sorry for you,” I whisper as I press the serrated blade against the tender flesh of her throat. “I thought you were his victim too, but you are just self-absorbed, only looking out for number one. You stood by and watched him beat me until I was unconscious, never making a move. And now this? Do you get your thrills watching your husband rape her over and over?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t want to hear her excuses. Slowly, I drag my blade across her flesh, the warmth of her blood coating my fingers as the life begins to drain from her. Stepping forward, I throw her towards the stairs, inwardly laughing as I release her and watch her tumble down the steps in slow motion. She lands with a thud at the base as I slowly make my descent, pulling the ski mask down over my face.

“What the fuck!” Phil roars, walking over to her crumpled body laying lifeless on the ground. He is completely naked as he kneels down and touches the blood still draining from the wound to her neck.

“Go,” Deuce whispers from behind, pushing me forward.

Racing down the stairs, I come to a stop when I am face to face with him. His eyes land on me and he immediately rises to his feet, arms raised in the air. “What do you want?” he asks, his voice wavering.

Looking past him, I spot Alana blindfolded, gagged and restrained on a wooden table seated in the center of the room. The tears staining her face only fuel my anger for this man. I want to run to her, hold her in my arms and tell her everything will be alright, but I can’t. I am frozen in place, taking in the image of her brutalized form, something that will forever be burned in my mind.

Her wrists are cuffed, attached to eye bolts drilled into the head of the table. Her blood streaked legs are spread wide, affixed to chains that limit her movement. She is trembling with fear, not knowing that I am here to free her. She will never again suffer at the hands of this man or anyone else.

I refuse to answer him, the reason for our presence apparent. He backs away as I step forward, fueled by hatred. With my blade extended, I lunge for him, driving the knife into his gut. He screams out in pain as I twist, my eyes never leaving his. I want him to suffer just as she has.

Deuce steps forward as I withdraw the blade, my eyes lowering to my blood stained hands. When I am able to raise them again, I watch as Deuce drives his knife into Phil over and over again in a rage I have never witnessed before.

It wasn’t until later that I found out that Deuce’s sister had been brutally raped, tortured, and killed by her boyfriend. Deuce’s father, Ace, had been put in prison for putting a bullet between the boy’s eyes when the justice system had failed. His mother, charged with being an accomplice, suffered the same fate. Deuce was more than familiar with brutality and because he was unable to exact revenge on his sister’s behalf, he took the next logical step by ending the life of a man who had done the same thing to someone I loved.

We knew we had to leave, but first I had to free Alana. I can still feel her trembling in my arms as I pulled her to me. She was so traumatized that she did not even notice my blood stained hands as I held her close, never revealing who I was. When Deuce and I fled the scene, we felt certain the cops would look at it as a case of self-defense, but it didn't work out that way.

When I saw the news report of Alana’s arrest, I lost it. She was being charged with their murder. Luckily, Deuce got in touch with Brent Douglas, the club’s attorney and told him the facts. What he told Deuce was simple. Unless we stepped forward, admitting that we were the only ones involved, nothing could be done.