Merciless Ride (11 page)

“Stay with me, baby.”
 

Rushing to her car, I put her in the passenger seat. She is trembling in fear as her body goes into shock.
 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m gonna get you outta here.”
 

“Shooter?” she questions, and I realize she can’t see through the blood covering her eyes.
 

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. Hang on, okay. I gotta make a call. Then we’ll get you taken care of.”
 

She only nods as her body continues to shake.
 

Removing my cut, I pull my shirt off and hand it to her to wipe her face. Knowing I shot the fucker in his knees, he’s not going anywhere. My inner caveman screams at me to go back in there and finish the bastard off, but I can’t do that in front of Tessie. She’s been through enough tonight. If I kill him and then she remembers later on… Well, I don’t know if that will be something more to haunt her. Blood on your hands, whether actually by your hands or not, still stays with you. Is she strong enough to carry that burden?
 

She still hasn’t attempted to adjust her clothing. Does she not realize she is exposed? I don’t dare touch her to fix it, though. Did I get here in time? My mind races. Fuck, how bad is it?
 

Making the call for back-up, my mind racing, I look over to see Tessie hasn’t moved. My shirt still sits in her open hands, her body still shivering uncontrollably.
 

“Tripp, problem at Ruthless. Shep fucked up Tessie bad. I need Doll and a female doctor to my place
Now
! Get the boys to come handle Shep. I shot him, so we need clean up,” I quickly divulge.
 

“On it. I’ll send a crew and meet you at your house with Doll and Rex.”
 

“Not Rex. That fucker has played enough games with her. Where the hell is he tonight?”
 

“Shooter,” Tripp chastises.
 

“Not tonight, Tripp. Not fuckin’ tonight. She’s a mess. Let her make that call.”
 

“All right, brother, on my way.”
 

 

Claimed
 

 

Ugh. Ouch. Everything hurts. Every centimeter of my body is in pain. Slowly, I start to stretch, attempting to open my eyes. They are tight, though; they won’t open. Panic fills me as I reach up and touch my face.
 

Tentatively, I feel around to find my head wrapped in what feels like gauze and bandages on my left cheek. My mouth feels puffy, even on the inside. The taste of old blood mixes with my saliva as all my senses go into overdrive. My anxiety grows as my breathing becomes more erratic. Why does everything hurt?
 

“Breathe, baby. I need you to breathe.”
 

“Shooter?” I ask, recognizing his voice.
 

“Yeah, I’m right here.” His words are soft, somehow soothing as the fear continues to escalate.
 

“Shooter, where am I? What happened?”
 

“You’re at my house.”
 

“Wait, your house? Where is Axel?”
 

Oh, my goodness, was I in an accident in Shooter’s car? Is Axel okay? Is he worried about me? Does my mom know where I am? Has someone called her? Who would know to call her? She must be worried sick.
 

I am reaching around into thin air around me as I still can’t open my eyes. Large hands come around my wrists gently, pulling my hands down onto my stomach. I’m still lying flat in a bed.
 

“Axel is with your mom and your aunt. They know you’re okay,” he calmly answers me as he releases my wrists.
 

“Why am I here?” I question, needing to know what has happened.
 

As he sighs, a delicate, soft hand squeezes my right hand. Instinctively, I jump. How many people are here? I strain to hear more of what is around me. Aren’t your other instincts supposed to be more in tune when you lose your sight? Why can I not figure out what is going on? Damn it, I need answers.
 

“It’s me, Tessie. What do you remember?” Doll asks, as she starts to pull her hand out of mine. Knowing it is her, I squeeze, pulling her hand back into mine.
 

Think, Tessie
. Last night or tonight—I don’t exactly know what time it is—I went to work. It was busy. Rex was there. He was being an ass. The bar closed.
 

The bar closed…
 

I suck in my breath, my body starting to shake uncontrollably as the memories invade. The smell. My God, the smell of that man: oil, cigarettes, whiskey, and leather.
 

Before I can react, the meager contents of my stomach cover my hands and the bed around me.
 

The bed shifts beside me as Doll pulls her hand away, undoubtedly to clean it.
 

I can’t stop trembling. He touched me. I hurt; oh, how I hurt. My breathing is coming in pants as the night floods my mind. Dirty. He was so dirty. I am so filthy. His hands, his mouth, his tongue—he was all over me. The dry heaves begin as I have nothing left to vomit, but I cannot control my stomach’s revolt.
 

“Doll, run a bath,” I hear Shooter say.
 

Gagging, I begin to choke causing my breathing to become even more strenuous. I feel his arms rest on either side of me in the bed without touching me.
 

“Please, breathe, baby. Inhale,” he whispers gently. “Exhale... Inhale… Exhale.”
 

I take my strength from him, following his commands to get my breathing under control. One breath at a time that is how you survive. When you can’t handle looking so far ahead, think only of one more breath. I feel the wetness of my tears as they escape my swollen eyes and fall down my swollen cheeks.
 

“We gotta clean you up. Doll is gonna help you. After that, Doc will tend to your wounds. She came last night, stitched your head and checked you out.”
 

“What time is it?” I croak out on a choke.
 

“Two in the afternoon,” Shooter replies in a matter of fact tone, devoid of all emotion.
 

“Axel,” I whisper.
 

“Baby, he’s fine. Remember, your mom and aunt have him. They don’t know what happened, just that you are exhausted and need to rest today.”
 

I nod my head. The pain in my body consumes my thoughts as I sit here covered in vomit and unable to see.
 

Push through it, Tessie
, I coach myself. I survived, right? He didn’t kill me. Hurt me, yes, but I’m alive.
 

“I gotta pick you up, Tessie. Doll’s gonna help you undress. Doc says the swelling will go down, and then you’ll be able to open your eyes and see. Until then, Doll will handle dressing and undressing you. I promise I won’t be in the room. No men, baby. You’re safe now.”
 

His concern for my modesty and security is evident as he has yet to harshly touch me or make a sudden movement. My emotional reserve is empty; as a result, I find my calm in Shooter, nodding my head in understanding.
 

After a bath, with help from Doll, Doc Kelly checks my wounds. She applies some goo to my eyelids to help keep my eyes moisturized while the swelling continues to go down. My nose will have a nasty bump and may possibly need to be reset later, but until the swelling goes down, she can’t tell for sure without x-rays. I have vaginal and anal tears that will be uncomfortable as they heal, but much like having a baby, they will be fine in time. Moreover, my concussion will have lasting effects for a while, but eventually, the headaches will go away.
 

Yes, they all offered to take me to the hospital for treatment if I would feel more comfortable, but that is not going to happen. For me, that would mean answering questions, which would be talking about it and remembering it. I just want to forget. Move on. Wait for the next hit from life.
 

Mercy could have stepped in to save me last night, yet she didn’t. It is more than obvious she has no plans to cut me any slack in the future, either.
 

Doc Kelly continues to check me over, spouting off healing times and instructions. She belongs to Head Case. She met him in med school, only he went into mental health while she
went into emergency medicine. How they became affiliated with the Hellions, I do not know. She doesn’t share, and I don’t ask. Honestly, I don’t care who treats my external wounds. I have to find a way to get healed and get home to my son. I survived my attack; this is just yet another bump in the road, right?
 

 

When Tripp calls a sermon, every patched member is in attendance. Boomer is prospecting after my nomination last year, so he is standing outside the cave. I hold no officer position; therefore, I sit in one of the seats along the wall of the tiny space. Tripp takes his seat at the head of the table with Rex, our charter VP, at his right.
 

The gavel slams down as Tripp calls the meeting to open. He doesn’t hold back as he begins, “Tessie was attacked at Ruthless last night.”
 

While gasps and swears fill the air, Rex sits in his chair unmoving, his face never changing as the words sink in throughout the club members that weren’t part of the clean-up last night.
 

“It was Shep from the Desert Ghosts that assaulted her,” Tripp adds. “She was closing up alone. Shooter got there to trade his car with hers and found them. He managed to shoot Shep twice and get Tessie out of there, but by the time the boys got to Ruthless for cleanup, Shep had escaped. We’ve got the stockroom back to normal for Bob, but we have no word on Shep.”
 

I shoot up out of my chair, unable to control myself. “What the fuck do you mean Shep got away?”
 

“Just what the fuck I said, Shooter. Now sit your ass down,” Tripp orders.
 

Head Case tugs on my forearm to pull me back down to my seat.
 

“Tessie’s not property,” Kix speaks up, “so how is this club business?”
 

“You have got to be kiddin’ me,” I mutter. “Not property? Tessie’s motherfuckin’ family. How many of you has she called someone for or taken you home herself because you were too drunk to ride? Not property! She serves every single one of us, at least, weekly. Ruthless is Hellions’, and we protect what’s ours.”
 

“Ruthless is not Hellions’. Bob won’t allow it,” Tripp adds, his face stern. “I can’t make the call to Thorn to hand over Shep. Tessie isn’t ours, technically.”
 

Not thinking, I storm over and pull Rex out of his chair before anyone can react. I pin him to the wall, breathing heavily, eye to eye with him as he grabs at my wrists, trying to relieve the pressure I’ve got on his throat.