by Tillie Cole
When he closed the bag, he turned, leaning against the table, arms folded, and he watched me. I focused on the floor, no idea what to say, when he spoke.
“Gonna take you to my room, Mae. Gonna watch out for you while Styx is gone.”
He could obviously see the shock in my gaze and edged toward me, dropping down to sit on the bed. “Styx and I talked ’bout it. He’s off tomorrow morning on a long run. He ain’t gonna be around to protect you. So you’ll come to my room and I’ll watch out for you ’til he gets back.”
My stomach fell. “If I am such a burden, I can leave now. I do not want to stay where I am not wanted.”
“Not happening, Mae. The ATF are on our backs, the Feds just itching to haul us over the coals. Got agents stationed twenty-four-seven from here to downtown Austin. Explaining you bruised and battered, not knowing fuck about life, ain’t gonna do us no favors. Club has too many enemies to risk getting raided right now. Too many fuckers wanting to move on our turf. You’re here until Styx says so. And knowing Prez, you best do what he tells you to.”
I stared at him with incredulity. I did not really know who was watching the compound or understood much of anything he said, but I knew one thing: I was trapped… again. I had exchanged one perimeter fence for another. Rider just shrugged in response to my cold reaction.
Standing, he held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
“I am not sleeping with you. You are a stranger. Do not expect anything from me,” I warned in a shaky voice.
He laughed, a huge grin lighting up his face. “As tempting as that sounds, sugar, that’s not on my agenda. Not into raping bitches who know fuck all about this life. This is Styx’s private apartment and we’re moving you outta here. You crash in my room. I’ll stay at home. I ain’t wantin’ in your pussy.”
My mouth gaped open. It was truly shocking how crass all the men spoke. Their words were harsh, but so far, their actions were nothing but kind.
With a heavy sigh, I stood up and followed Rider back to the clubhouse and into his room. It was sparse but clean. He stripped the bed and, from a drawer, removed fresh but discolored old linen.
Rider shrugged apologetically. “It ain’t much, but it’ll do.”
Wrapping my arms around my waist, I asked, “Why are you doing this?”
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“Helping me. Taking care of me?”
Rider moved beside me, his short, rough beard disguising what I imagined to be a friendly face. “Ordered to.”
My stomach flipped. I hated feeling like a problem they all had to deal with.
Rider sighed and leaned against the wall. “Let’s just say I’m paying it forward.” He pulled a tiny smirk at my confused frown. “Found myself in a similar situation to yours years back. This club pulled me out of it. I got my reasons for helping you that aren’t of your concern. All you need to do is heal. That okay?”
Exhaling a resolved breath, I nodded and dragged my tired body to the large bed, slumping down. “Looks like I have no choice. But I am thankful for your help, regardless.”
After a while, Rider left and I lay in a proper bed for the first time ever. As a Cursed, I was ordered to sleep on a hard mattress on the floor.
Surrounded by comfort, I quickly fell into a fitful, disturbed sleep. I tried to convince myself it was the visions of Prophet David, Gabriel, or even my poor Bella that kept me from a peaceful slumber. But that was a lie.
Styx.
I could not stop thinking about Styx.
Chapter Ten
Mae
One month later…
I finished dressing in the long black dress and cardigan Beauty had given me and moved to sit on the bed. Picking up the Bible Rider had bought me, I continued reading and could not help but sigh. It had become apparent that The Order did not follow the teachings correctly. This book was not the one we would read from, learn from… believe with all our hearts. It was clear Prophet David had used passages and verses that suited his goal and his ideology.
We did not know… my people were living in ignorance.
I felt an infuriating tidal wave of anger at how I had been living my whole life. It all felt like such a waste. Twenty-three years of living a lie. Living under strict rules and stern men.
It almost brought me to tears.
My life over the last month, however, had been so different. At commune, my days were hard and mundane, but I suppose I had purpose: to serve the brothers in any way they saw fit. At the clubhouse of the Hangmen, my days and nights were spent locked in Rider’s room, healing and hiding from the world on the other side of the door—no purpose.
Only at certain times was I permitted to leave the room—when women were allowed to be at the compound—mostly Friday and Saturday nights. In the two short trips I had made into the lounge area, with Rider glued to my side, I had been horrified. Most of the men were gone on the long run with Styx, but a few remained to protect the compound. The men I saw used women in indescribable ways, the women happy to be of service, high on opiates… on show for all to see. One woman even invited me to join in, to engage in explicit sexual acts with the other girls in the center of the room. Before I could react, Rider appeared as if from nowhere, chasing them away, just a simple nod of his head in my direction in acknowledgement. That was enough to usher me back to the safety of his bedroom.
Rider visited often, checking my wound and redressing the bandage. Sometimes he would disappear for short periods of time. In fact, most of the men did, out on something they called “handling business.” I got the feeling there was more to it than simply riding their bikes somewhere, but I knew from the club rules, explained to me by Rider, that women “don’t ask no questions.”
Rider and I had become close. He was always kind to me and I never saw him with the loose women, much to my relief. In fact, he would spend his time sitting in this room with me, quietly reading or patiently teaching me about the world outside. I thanked the Lord every day that he had been given the task of caring for me while Styx was gone, and not one of the other brothers.
A knock sounded at the door, pulling me from my daze, and closing the Bible, I jumped up in excitement. It would be Rider. He had left early this morning to get some things from the store for me to try.
Racing to the door, I pulled it open, smiling wide in excitement, but I faltered at who was before me and my heart immediately began racing in my chest.
Styx.
Styx was back… leaning against the doorframe, staring at the floor, deep in thought. When clearly sensing me before him, he slowly lifted his gaze. His nostrils flared and his tongue licked along his bottom lip as his eyes drifted over my body.
“Styx,” I whispered, and standing up straight, he brushed past me and walked into the bedroom. I moved out of his way and quickly closed the door, turning and leaning against the wood, just watching him look about the sparse room. He eventually turned back to me. His dark, messy hair had grown over the last few weeks, wayward stands flopping over his beautifully warm hazel eyes. The dark stubble on his cheeks was longer, making him look harsh and rough and, if possible, he seemed even bigger in size than the last time we spoke. He was so rugged and unkempt, but he was still the most handsome man I had ever laid my eyes on. And his scent, Lord, his scent had me inhaling in long, deep breaths. I had not realized how much I had missed him being close.
Styx cleared his throat, his fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes blinked quickly, almost twitching in nerves. I watched his throat swallow repeatedly before he pointed at my leg and managed to ask, “L-l-leg?”
A small, proud smile spread on my lips as he managed to speak to me, and his chest heaved at my reaction. He watched me like a hawk as I moved before him, and I lifted my floor-length dress and revealed my almost-healed calf. “It is much better, thank you.”
Styx crouched down and ran his finger softly along the pink scar, and I stopped breathing, my cheeks heating as I blushed. Clearly noticing m
e freeze, Styx looked up and met my eyes, his upper lip hooking up in a smirk, then he stood, just staring at me once more. The air around us almost crackled with electric tension, like magic. I was hypnotized by him, completely and utterly enthralled.
“How was your run?” I asked quietly, and he nodded curtly, shrugging his shoulders. I took from that response that it went well.
Styx ran his hand through his hair and stepped forward even closer to me. His warm breath blanketed my skin, and I closed my eyes, that strange swirling feeling in my stomach appearing again and I lost any control I had over my breathing. Eventually opening my eyes, Styx’s lips parted and he tucked a long strand of my hair behind my ears. His lips closed together and his eyes began to twitch again; he was going to speak.
“M-M-Ma—” He stopped, exhaled, and his fist clenched my hair as he worked himself up to speak. I laid a hand on his and stroked my finger over his rough, callused skin.
Inhaling through his nose, he asked, “M-Mae—”
“Mae?” a deep voice called from outside the door, and a second later, Rider walked in to the bedroom, holding a bag, routing through its contents, paying no attention to what was happening before him. “I got you some things you need to try—” His voice cut off and he ground to a halt when he saw Styx standing before me in the center of the room—hand wrapped in my hair and his body only a hairsbreadth from mine.
“Prez,” Rider greeted, wary. His eyes narrowed just a fraction as he darted his gaze between Styx and me, as if assessing what he had just interrupted.
Styx’s faced abruptly hardened and he pulled back, glaring harshly at Rider. I watched as Styx began moving hands, informing Rider of something, and Rider nodded in understanding. Without another word Styx left the room and I winced as the slammed door shut.
I turned to Rider who was watching me curiously. “What did Styx say?”
Rider dropped the bag on the table and faced me. “Club’s riding out in thirty minutes.”
“What is—” My question was interrupted by another knock at the door and I rolled my eyes in exasperation. A moment later it flew open. Beauty and Letti entered, chatting loudly, carrying bags and dressed head to toe in leather. Letti was Bull’s old lady and had been visiting me over the last few weeks along with Beauty. I had never met anyone like Letti before, so big, so fierce. But she was lovely to me and very protective of our new friendship. She and Bull were Samoan, which only confused me—I had never been taught much about other cultures. In commune, it was not a top priority learning of the outside world. Letti showed me on a map where Samoa was and I loved being educated about new things, but I felt foolish that I did not know anything about her home country. Letti simply found it amusing.
“Mae! Get your ass in gear. You’re coming on the ride out,” Beauty said, planting the full bags down on the made bed. Rider shook his head, smiling, and ducked out of the room. Over the past few weeks Beauty had assigned herself as my personal protector and friend.
“A ride out?” I asked, confused again, refocusing on Beauty.
“Yeah! The Hangmen Ride Out. And you’re coming,” Beauty began pulling a mass of leather from the large white shopping bags and thrust them in my direction, Letti silently watching in amusement.
“Wait! I cannot! I do not know how to… ride.”
“Sure you can, girl. You’ll go with Rider. He ain’t got no one on the back of his bike. You just gotta hold on tight.”
“But Styx—”
“Styx’ll be fine with it. Mae, you gotta feel what it’s like on a bike—the wind in your hair, burning up road, the power, the freedom. Then relaxin’ at The Falls, eating barbeque and drinking beer. You’ve been cooped up in here for nearly a goddamned month. You’re getting out. You gotta start living, honey. The men are back and will protect you, and you’re gonna start having some fuckin’ fun!”
I held out the tight black leather clothing and my mouth gaped. The trousers were so small, the Hangmen motif emblazoned on the skimpy black tank top, and a fitted leather jacket to match. “Beauty, I cannot—”
“Girl, I swear if I hear that word outta your mouth anymore, I’ll be fixin’ to scream!”
Glancing at Letti, who simply smirked and pointed in the direction of the washroom, I gave in. Beauty beamed a smile at me and shouted, “We’re all outside in the yard. Catch ya out there!”
As I stared at myself in the mirror several minutes later, a mass of leather covering my body and my stomach sank. I fought with myself over wearing the skintight attire. It was not modest by any means. I was not covered as I had been taught to be my whole life. I was dressed sinfully, seductively, showing my every curve, but I had to tell myself I was no longer in commune and would not be punished by the brothers for being a temptress. You are free now, Mae, I assured my frantic and conflicted heart. You are free…
With a deep breath and another hesitant glance at my reflection, I could not help but expel a short, disbelieving laugh. If only Lilah, Maddie, and Bella could see me now. I looked so different. With my hair hanging down my back and black boots on my feet, I looked like one of them, a “biker bitch” as they were affectionately known, much to my utter confusion.
Shaking myself down, and with a long deep breath, I tentatively walked out of the bedroom and through to the empty lounge. The place looked so strange; deserted, now free of the hedonistic acts normally being carried out within its confines.
Clearly hearing the roar of bike engines and the deep graveled voices of the brothers itching to ride just beyond the door in the yard, I made my way outside. Over the last few weeks, I had noticed the brothers would become restless if they did not ride out at least a few times a week, especially Rider; hence, I supposed, his taken name.
Walking through the plane of the main door, I threw back my shoulders and stepped out into the boiling sun—Texas at midday. My eyes closed as I stood on the top step of the cement stairs and I relished the feeling of the warmth on my cheeks.
Smiling, I opened my eyes only to find a sea of bikers and their women all gaping in my direction. I spotted Beauty waving from near the front of the group, one arm wrapped around Tank, who flicked his chin in greeting.
Catcalls and wolf whistles bombarded me; some women curled their lips in distaste and several of the brothers gawped. But Rider was the one who really caught my eye as he observed my form and finery from his bike.
A long, loud whistle silenced the men and movement at the very front of the line caught my attention. Styx and Ky stepped forward and Rider dismounted and followed suit. I walked to meet them face to face, stopping at the bottom of the stairs, fidgeting with my hands in nerves.
Ky smiled and shook his head. “Fuck, Mae! You’re one hot bitch!”
I squirmed on the spot and risked a glance at Styx. His hungry stare was almost burning holes into me, and for the second time that day, I lost my breath. Styx’s hands moved and Ky dropped his smile. He cleared his throat and I could see the rapid fire of Styx’s hands, but instead, I drank in what he was wearing: typical blue faded jeans, black shirt, and leather cut. There was awe in his gaze and his chest heaved hard. I felt like an animal, caged, put on show for the masses.
A hand suddenly gripped my arm. As I looked up, Styx was before me, immediately dragging me back into the clubhouse. Bursting through the door, he pushed me against the nearest wall, the brothers now out of sight.
As I looked at his face, his nostrils flared and his hand ran down my cheek, then along my hair, his eyes following suit. I bit my lip as his hand continued to travel downward, skirting along my arms, along the indents of my waist, and feathering across my hips. My breath was short, fast, and out of control. Styx was not faring much better.
One large foot moved toward me, then another, until Styx’s breath blew warm on my cheek; it was sweet, enticing. His forehead dropped to mine, his hands cupping my face. I could not take my attention off his perfect mouth, his strange metal ring dead center on that full bottom lip, glinting in the li
ght above. He inched in, panting now, and my palms flattened against the wall.
“Styx?” I whispered, heat building in my stomach, swirling and slowly traveling downward between my legs. As the sensation took hold, my eyes widened in fearful anticipation, and I instinctively clenched my thighs together.
I gasped a confused questioning whimper. “Styx?”
Something in him broke the moment and he pulled back, just as his lips were about to brush mine. He slowly surveyed me from top to bottom, along my every curve, like a painter watching his muse. I felt stripped bare… naked… wanted.
Sucking in a shuddering breath, he said, “I-I got L-Lois on the back of m-my fuckin’ b-bike.” His lip curled, almost in disgust. “Y-you g-go with R-r-rider.” His hand slapped the wall above me and he hissed, “F-FUCK!”
With that, he turned, walking toward the door. Stopping, head still facing away from me, he rasped out in a graveled voice, “Y-you l-l-look real f-fuckin’ g-g-good.”
My heart squeezed in my chest and closed my eyes but for a moment. As he pressed on the handle to leave, I whispered, “I have missed you.”
His back bunched under his leather cut, his head lowered, and he hissed again, “FUCK!” before wrenching the door open and storming out.
Slumping back against the wooden wall, I tipped my head back, trying to still my heart and gather my wits. Was Styx actually going to kiss me? Did he want me to ride with him and not Lois? What was he thinking about me? Did, did, did—?
“Mae?” Hazily, I tried to focus on the door as Rider walked through. His eyebrows narrowed at my position against the wall. “You good?”
Clearing my throat, I pushed the hair from my eyes and nodded.
Flashing me a rare smile, he said, “Come on. You’re riding with me.”
We walked through the crowd to Rider’s black-and-chrome Chopper (he had told me this, the make of his bike, one night when I had asked). I stood awkwardly at its side as Rider climbed on the front. I could see Styx two bikes ahead of us, his broad back stiff, facing straight forward and Lois’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist. My heart sank.