Chapter 42
Melody
I didn’t know what was worse, the hangover I got when I turned twenty one, or waking up disoriented, surrounded by a deranged, revenge seeking rival club.
My head didn’t know what to think, it was fuzzy. The only thing I could remember was screaming for help and the thought of Hound Dog on my mind.
Oh fuck. Hound. No, this was not supposed to happen.
I forced myself to find the strength to have a clearer mind, wake up my senses, and figure out what was happening to me. I didn’t have to think hard about the people that grabbed me, the evidence was on their chest. My hope was that Hound was ruthless enough and blinded enough by love that any moment, as my mind came to be, that he would be blasting through a figurative door and saving me.
That, or I would be woken up from the nightmare of being drugged and taken and welcomed by the sight of him between my thighs with a hunger like no other.
Alas, as my eyesight became clearer, I was still surrounded by darkness. I knew I wasn’t blind as moonlight and the faint light across the surrounding area shined in. I felt the tension at my feet and my back. By the sensation I was feeling, I was bound at the wrists and ankles.
Fucking typical. Just like a damsel in distress.
Could no one think of anything else other than to tie the woman up and wait?
I could hear the faintest of water sounds, but couldn’t tell whether it was coming from inside or outside. There was an echo, I could hear myself grunt as I tugged on the restraints. It felt like one of those cliches that happens in movies right before the hero came to save the damsel.
And yet there I was playing the role of the damsel. All that was missing was a volcano and a machine that would be lowering me down to my plummeting death.
Melody has an active imagination while doped up.
“I see why Hound Dog would be so infatuated by you,” a voice boomed from my loopy thoughts.
I whipped my head around, attempting to find the voice, but not even the shadows came out to be revealed.
A whole new panic spread over me, the fear of dying too quickly. There was a sudden sharp pain in my head, not from someone hitting me, more like a side effect or something. I wasn’t a nurse or a doctor, but it certainly was worse than a hangover.
My heart started to beat out of my chest. My muscles were still weak, although they felt heavy like I was carrying around weights.
“What the bitch doesn’t have a bite anymore? Pity.”
I’d had enough people calling me names for a lifetime, and at that rate it was getting annoying. “You got anything better than “bitch”? Cause just saying bitch sounds outdated and sometimes a compliment. Are you complimenting me?” I laughed, still a little out of it from whatever they hit me with.
“I liked you better when you were knocked out,” the voice fought back.
“Yeah, and only a coward would wish someone was unconscious just so they could say they won. Newsflash, buddy, you didn’t. Whatever your plan with me is, it won’t work,” I taunted them.
My hope was that I wasn’t proved wrong. I knew Hound would choose me over the club, but his dedication to the club would rule over anything.
A hand splayed through my hair, gripping a handful of it. “And yet I know it will, he would never pass up a chance to take back this sweet ass. He must fuck you like a rag doll.”
Fight, Melody, fuck everything anyone has ever said about you. Fight back, don’t falter.
The rancid smell from his body hit my senses, making my face scrunch, like it would do it any good. The man sniffed me. My stomach twisted in disgust.
“Well, at least he knows how to use his dick unlike you with your pencil dick.” I hissed, and as expected was rewarded with a smack across the face. Then a hand wrapped around my throat, taking all the air from me. My body squirmed, fighting him off. His fingers dug into my skin.
Everything around me became dizzier, the world’s most unbalanced carnival ride.
“Enough, Stetson,” another voice demanded.
Stetson, the man whose hand was around my throat, only squeezed tighter. His one track mind disobeyed whoever the other person was, challenging him.
“I said enough,” the voice growled out.
Stetson let go of my throat, shoving my head forward. My lungs fought back with the inhalation of air. If I wasn’t going to die from lack of oxygen, I felt like it was going to be the opposite.
I coughed, feeling even worse than I did when I woke up.
“I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t take kindly to a Saint’s ol’ lady, regardless if they’re a little wallflower like you.” The other mysterious man came to view.
The man crouched down to look at me as my head still hung over. His finger lifted my chin. A familiar face, I couldn’t place him.
He took a cloth and wiped whatever stickiness was on my face, and I felt the lip of a cup touch my bottom lip.
“Take a sip,” he demanded.
I wasn’t dumb, I wasn’t going to take a chance. He saw the stubbornness in my face, and took a sip for himself, showing that it was safe. He pressed the lip of the cup back to my mouth. The cool water slid down my throat.
“You’re wasting your time,” my voice scratched out.
He smirked. “I don’t think so, and we both know that.”
“Using me as bait seems a little too obvious, doesn’t it?”
“Hound must have done a number on you, they said you were shy, always stuck in the shadows. What happened?” the man questioned.
Just that, Hound opened me up.
“Guess I grew up,” I snarked back.
“I like you,” the man chuckled, and then started to walk away, “Too bad that tonight will be your last night.”
“Kind of figured, you don’t seem like the type to just let me go.”
The clinking of metal whipped my head in the same direction as him. “Not only that, but there’s something poetic about watching the love of your life die before your life is taken.”
My heart sank.
“You don’t mean that.”
There was a clicking of a gun. “Oh, I do. That club has tried to take everything from me, from my club. They were supposed to run away. Leave Memphis, but I think Hound found a little more… motivation. What did they say? That he found a little birdie with clipped wings. That she batted her eyelashes, and captured something precious to him.”
The man turned around, the gun flashing under the pale light. Sweat dripped down my back.
“So, in reality, I think that was you. I think that you showed him that he had to go to extreme measures to make sure that you would never be harmed. So, when a little roadblock like you gets in our way from taking over, we just have to take care of it.”
I could have begged, I could have bartered with him and then found a way out of it. I could have stood my ground, waited until there was a sign of light.
He kept going on, filling the silence. “You wanna know the moment when the Saints knew that Hound Dog would be their next president?”
He was turning Hound Dog into a villain. Only I knew it wouldn’t work. I shook my head to his question. “When Hound Dog took out my president. Killing him in cold blood. When he showed his club that he would do anything for them, even kill, taking the chance to minimize threats, they knew that he would do anything for the club, therefore making him president when it was time. Sure, it’s been a couple of years or so, but it only fueled our hatred and our burning desire to take everything from them.
“This would be the part where you beg for a chance to see him again before the lights of your life fade away.” He said, dragging the cool metal across my bare skin.
A voice in my head told me that time wouldn’t be on my side and perhaps the man wouldn’t keep his word. I had to decide whether it was worth Hound seeing me alive but taken right in front of him, or give him mercy and take away the potential scarring memory of watching me die.
I never thought about death, whether I was scared of it or would welcome it. In tense moments and uncertainty, fear won. I guess any normal day I’d say that I’d welcome it, knowing that maybe if it was my time, my purpose was fulfilled.
Maybe I needed to welcome the thought, maybe my purpose was showing Hound that love was possible if you fought for it rather than run from it.
I wanted to buy more time, there was still an ounce of hope.
“Would it matter, in the end my life would be over and you wouldn’t have leverage over Hound Dog? Killing me in the end would give you less power over him.”
The gun stopped at my chest, my chest heaved and moved the weapon with it. The man thought for a moment. “Sounds like you’re stalling.”
“Sounds like you want to lose in the end.” I sneered back.
“I hold the control,” he fought back, pressing the gun into my skin.
“Not if you pull the trigger early. Rookie mistake of a hostage take over. You’re living the stereotypical action stories, where the villain doesn’t think. If you kill me at all, you’d unleash the beast that’s inside him. Think about your former president, think about how you felt and the anger that made y’all relentless. You really want that for Hound Dog and the club?” I tried to appease his sense of purpose, but even as I spoke those words they tasted bitter, so wrong for me to even think of saying them.
The gun lifted under my chin, testing my nerves. I stared into those dark, soulless eyes of my captor.
His dark eyes transformed into something cynical like many ideas rapid fired in this brain.
“I can see why Hound Dog is so enamoured with you, someone so innocent, begging to be a little slut,” he said.
Was that supposed to thrill me? Or scare me?
No, it was disgusting.
“Tick tock, buddy.” I rolled my eyes.
Tick, tock indeed, because I didn’t know how much time was left nor what else was to come from being around this man.
I also didn’t know how much more I could show that I wasn’t afraid or that I wasn’t this fearless person.
Before I knew it, the man’s hand wrapped tightly around my throat, and my eyes started to flutter to welcome a new kind of darkness.