Chapter 24
24
MAXINE
I sit up in bed. “Tailing me?”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Blood spits out the words then turns his head away from me.
I swallow hard, not quite sure about his next words.
“I know you fought for Hector down in Rosarito, so him trying to recruit you now is a lie. You saying you didn’t know Hector owned the building you’re living in is a lie. The reason you’re fighting with our club is a lie.” Blood pushes himself to a sitting position. “After what happened tonight, I don’t have the energy for any more of your lies.”
“You’re right about all of it.” I pull at the bedsheet, not knowing where to start.
“You being here right now is probably part of some scheme, some long con, but, fuck me, I can’t turn you away.” Blood hangs his head. “For all I know, you knew what he was going to do to Javi.”
I grab his arm. “No, no.” I make him look at me. “Hector is evil, a demon. He’s taken from me and others for too long—way too long, but I would never agree to be a part of something so horrific and senseless.”
“Okay, but you admit you came to fight for us as a spy for him.”
“I fight for myself, no one else. Unfortunately, Hector found a way to use it to his advantage.”
Which is the absolute truth. I love getting in the cage. Clearing my mind and focusing on my body and what my body can do.
“Just stop.” Blood slams his hand against the headboard. “Stop dancing around the words and tell me how you got with Hector and why.”
Moment of truth. I could spew it all out and watch his face turn from anger to disgust or filter out the hard parts. The sections of time my mind wouldn’t let me forget.
“Do you want us to have anything past tonight, more than what we do in bed?” Blood asks.
I draw in a deep breath, afraid of my answer. Not sure what I want, yet knowing if I say yes he’d have to accept all the horrors of my life. An impossible request, sure to make him turn away from me forever.
“If you do want it, then I need to know everything, now.” Blood makes his ultimatum clear.
I cross my legs and straighten my spine, petrified and exhilarated by the liberation of finally unburdening myself, finally telling my story.
“My home life wasn’t typical, or very good, so I ran away at seventeen with another girl. As you can imagine, it wasn’t the best idea.”
* * *
For most of my story, Blood sat stone-still. A few times, he tried to interject, but I didn’t let him because, if I stopped at any point, I may not be able to continue.
“I don’t think what happened to Tiffany and me was planned. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Tiffany lost her life, and they shipped me to Mexico.” I huff out a laugh. “At the time, I was so happy they didn’t kill me too—until we reached Rosarito.
“Looking back, I see how we were so young and gullible, but at the time, being in a hot L.A. club, getting the attention of two attractive men who had a limousine and a mansion in Marina del Rey was exciting. For two girls from a nowhere town in Oklahoma, this was a dream come true.”
“Until it turned into a fuckin’ nightmare.”
“After we reached Rosarito, the original ten girls dwindled down to five. Over the next three weeks, we were locked in another room and only given enough water and food to survive.”
“What happened to the other girls?”
“One by one, they went to work in his brothels. Most I never saw again.”
“But not you.”
“I held out the longest.”
“So, all the other girls were moved to the brothels, but you stayed in those beat-to-shit barracks?” Blood shakes his head. “I saw them when Smoke and I paid Hector a visit last week. He’s living like a king in fuckin’ luxury while?—”
I place my hand on his. “Let me finish.”
Blood jerks his head in a nod, his jaw tight.
“Hector said my stubbornness intrigued him, and I would be more useful fighting in the cage.”
“Did he make you do other shit—for him?” Rage simmers in each word.
The underlying question in Blood’s voice is undeniable. When I started the story, I thought I could tell all, but his mounting anger tells me two things. One, he might lash out at Hector and do something to put himself in danger, and, two, I can’t bear the shame of him knowing the truth about myself and Hector.
“No, he always made me feel less than him, not even worthy of sex.”
Blood’s expression relaxes, and I know I’ve made the right decision. “Soon after, I began training in the gym housed in the barn.”
“I can’t believe all you’ve been through.” Blood draws me into his arms. “Did you ever try to run, to get away?”
I glance at the ceiling. “I tried to leave once, soon after I began training in the gym. My newfound strength gave me false courage and confidence. I befriended one of Hector’s guards, and he created a diversion one night while I slipped away.” I shake my head, remembering. “It was such a stupid thing to do. I had no money, only the clothes on my back, and I didn’t know the area, but I was so desperate, I acted without thinking or having a solid plan. I didn’t even get out of Rosarito.”
Blood stares at me, his brown eyes full of questions he didn’t want to ask.
“Two of Hector’s men found me at a gas station trying to get a ride north. I learned later I’d only made it two miles from his compound.” I squeeze my eyes shut, then concentrate on the bedsheets. “I never saw the guard who helped me again.”
“And you?”
“He locked me in a small, dark, soundproof room with barely enough space to lie down, and nothing more than a bottle of water each day. Just enough to survive.”
Blood jams his fist into the mattress. “Fuck.”
“I can’t tell you what punishment like that does to your mind and your soul. It breaks something that can never be fixed.” I draw in a slow, deep breath. “It was even worse than when my parents used to lock me in the closet.”
“What?”
“When I misbehaved, they’d lock in the closet, but that usually just lasted a few hours, not days. Something about the not knowing made it seem endless.”
Blood throws up his palm. “Wait a minute. What the hell could you have done to be locked in a fuckin’ closet?”
“Coming in late for dinner. Not hanging up my clothes after school. Anything going against their rules.”
“Babe, you are the strongest person I know. I had a shitty childhood, but nothing like what you went through. My father was a bastard, and . . .”
“And what?”
“Nah, it’s nothing. Just sayin’, as bad as my father was, your parents were way worse.” Blood drags his hand through his hair. “I’ll never understand how parents can do shit to a kid. You must’ve been so scared.”
“I guess at first, but then I kinda got used to it. I’d sing to myself, and when I got older, I’d make up fantasies in my head with me as the heroine. The strong one, the one who could beat all odds.”
Blood tries to pull me to him again, but I resist. “I don’t want your sympathy; I just want you to understand how punishment like that takes ahold of a person. Then, when Hector doled out the same kind of punishment, I felt in a strange way like I deserved it.”
“Punishment? That’s fuckin’ torture. Hector’s a sadistic bastard, but your own parents?”
“There’s something else you should know.”
“Shit, babe, I don’t know if I can handle anything else.”
My real name isn’t Maxine; it’s Chastity, Chastity Parker. The last name I gave Ricky for the passport.”
“At this point, I don’t give a fuck what your real name is. I’m just blown away you survived at all.”
“Somehow I found the inner strength to go on. Almost like I didn’t want Hector or my parents to win—and, in a way, I’ve done it—survived.
“When Hector first approached me about infiltrating your club, I didn’t care one way or the other. I figured, with more independence, maybe I could escape. I didn’t give a shit if every one of you blew yourselves to hell as long as I got closer to getting back to the States.”
“And now you feel different.”
“The Royal Bastards are different. I didn’t expect the . . . camaraderie, the way you all seem to work together. I always got the impression Hector’s crew could be bought for the right price. There’s no loyalty, just greed, ego and harsh retaliation, even amongst themselves. Hector has no problem doling out punishment wherever and whenever.”
“You sure the fuck pushed back against all the bullshit.”
“It was the main reason why I changed my name. Chastity died the night I was stuffed into a cargo van and shipped to Rosarito. After weeks of abject fear, Maxine was born. The name and the new persona stood for confidence and strength.” I look down at myself. “The same tenacity and perseverance I’ve brought to my fighting is what will set me free. That and the passport.”