Shattered & Scarred: The Sacred Hearts MC (2 page)

Several minutes later she was out and Doc was looking her over.

“She’s hypothermic, her feet are pretty wrecked… how long was she out there?” Doc had had to administer a tranquilizer, which hadn’t been easy, and now Ashton lay small and frail in my bed. I stood, arms crossed and watched him assess. Holding her down while he had jammed a needle in her arm, all the while her howling like that wounded fox had scraped my damn nerves raw.

“No way to tell.” I said
tersely.

“Well it was more than a minute. I’m getting her out of this party dress, you strip down she needs heat and you picked her up so you’re it Trig.” I scowled at him.

“The fuck you talking about Doc?”

“She needs to get warm. Stop worrying so god damned much about your womanly virtue and get undressed!” he commanded. I gave him a look that should have been able to strip flesh from bone and pulled my shirts over my head.

He expertly stripped Ashton out of her skimpy black party dress and grunted. Her delicate yet curvy body was discolored in more places than not by deep ugly bruising… Scars ran horizontal across her ass and high up on the backs of her thighs where she’d endured past whippings from a switch or a belt. My blood began to boil the more discoloration and scarring my eyes picked out on her small body.

“Can’t find anything broken that I
can see… fucker knows how to make it hurt. Lot of liver and kidney shots. Belly is soft, don’t think she’s bleeding inside… Get in the bed with her.” Doc looked up and looked about as pissed as I felt.

No women.

No children.

Fuck.

I did as the old man ordered and got into the bed behind her, pulling her into the cradle of my much larger frame. Her skin was beyond cool and just plain frigid against my own.

“Right. I’m
gonna take care of these feet then I’ll leave you to it. I need to get my drink on after this shit.” Doc set to work cleaning, disinfecting and bandaging her feet while I held her. Her shudders eventually diminishing to shivers and her shivers finally gave up after a small gasp of relief.

“She’s going to sleep ‘til morning. Best get some res
t yerself.” Doc got up and pulled the blankets over us.

“Thanks Doc.” I murmured.

“Glad you found her when you did.” He shouldered his bag and went for the door.

“No women.” He grunted.

“Yeah, no women…” I echoed.

He flipped out the overhead light and shut the door firmly behind him and I was left in the dark with a nearly naked girl I didn’t know a damned thing about clutched to my chest.

What the hell was I doing?

Ashton…

I woke in an unfamiliar bed fetched up hard against an unfamiliar body. Chadwick had never been soft, no, he was extremely fit but the body pressed to my back was nothing short of sculpted granite. All hard planes and angles, putting off a heat to rival the hottest day.

I blinked, the room was as dark as the inside of my eyelids.
I tried to swallow which was hard with as dry as my mouth and throat were. I moved cautiously, slowly, and meeting no resistance, I pulled myself to the edge of the bed. I sat up slowly, every muscle screaming in protest. Everything hurt, from the roots of my hair to my very nails. I set my feet to the floor and gasped.

Oh god this was going to be sheer misery
but I had done it before and likely, would have to again.

I forced myself to my feet and bit back a cry,
sinking my teeth into the tender flesh of my bottom lip until I tasted blood. I stood stock still, letting myself adjust, trying to find the limits of this new, much more abused body. Again, I had been here before… I would adjust, I would heal and I would do better,
be
better, for his correction. I had to be.

I cracked the door and looked about for something to cover myself with by the l
imited light from the hallway. The room was neat, orderly except where the clothing from the night before had been discarded on the old shabby brown carpet. I looked back to the bed and couldn’t help the blush that heated my cheeks. The man in the bed, he was magnificent to look at...

The bar of light from the cracked door fell across his chest which was chiseled and cut to a degree that he rivaled a Greek
statue. He could probably snap the likes of me in two with very little effort but he hadn’t. Instead I recalled how he had taken me from the side of the road, seen that I’d had medical attention, obviously, by the bandages I bore… I tried to remember everything that happened but it was foggy. I remember him holding me to the bed, the sharp pinch of a needle and then… I sighed quietly and spied something serviceable to cover me.

I bent slowly and picked up his discarded tee, slipping it over my head. I took a moment to do a more thorough assessment of my body and
I sagged with relief when I realized that I experienced nothing to be alarmed about. I didn’t feel violated in the slightest and when it came to Chadwick… well… that had been something I had experienced as well.

The man on the be
d shifted and I froze in place, I didn’t even breathe for several long moments waiting for him to speak, to sit up… to be caught. Thankfully, none of those things happened and I slowly exhaled in relief. I shuffled to the cracked door and slipped out into the hallway shutting it firmly but silently behind me.

I let out another breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and took in another slow and deep one.
I had no idea where I was. None. I crept down the hall silently in search of a bathroom which my body was urgently crying out for by now. I found one and breathed a sigh of relief shutting myself inside.

I quickly did my business, relieved that I indeed had nothing to worry about when it came to my virtue at the ha
nds of the man whose bed I had woken up in.

I caught myself thinking,
Thank you God… Chadwick would never take me back if…
but I stopped cold. In the eight years Chadwick and I had been married… This was the first time I’d ever been without him outside of our home. I lowered myself back down onto the closed lid of the toilet, equal parts elated and terrified.

All of these questions and more
went through my head...
Where was I? What was I going to do? Where was I going to live? How was I going to survive? What would he do if he ever found me?
That one stopped me cold. He would kill me. Of that I had no doubt. It may not be that moment or that hour or even that day, but eventually he would kill me. There had been so many times in the last year or two I would have welcomed death as an escape from that man but now… right now… with this tiny taste of freedom… I wanted to live. A tiny flicker of hope flared to life inside my chest.

I helped myself to standing using the edge of the sink and tried to formulate a plan as I stared into the cracked mirror above it. He’d hit my face. He was always so careful to avoid the face
before but his control of his temper had been slipping more and more as of late. I stared into spider webbed silvered glass I realized just how far he and I had come. I was no longer a wife to him, I hadn’t been in a very long time. I was simply his piece of property, his plaything to do with what he willed. I didn’t know what was worse, the fact that I had come to this conclusion or the fact that I wasn’t even startled by it.

I stared at the split in my lips, the spiral pattern of bruises emanating from it, taking up the majority of my chin, travelling
along the curve of my jaw and up my cheek. I tongued the teeth in the back where the blow had landed and winced. Some were loose but thankfully none were missing. I sighed. It hurt being up and about but the pain really was there to let me know I was alive so in a weird way I was almost grateful for it. I let my eyes rove my damaged face and decided that I couldn’t go back. I needed to find a way out somehow. A way to disappear.

I
left the tiny bathroom and shuffled back out into the hall, moving wraith like through the sprawling building until I found myself out front, where we’d come in at. There were other people here, behind those closed doors in the back. I could hear the odd cough or grunt, the slap of flesh hitting flesh in the rhythm of sex and the cry of a woman at the height of her climax, but none of these things held answers as to where I was.

This room did.

A grotesquely fascinating mural on one cinderblock wall proclaimed this to be the lair of the Sacred Hearts MC. All of the bikes lined up outside the picture window set in the front of the building told me what the MC stood for. The mural depicted a red bleeding human heart veined in blue, wrapped in silver barbed wire. The valves of the heart morphed into tailpipes that spewed fire which hovered above the heart’s image, I took it in and swallowed hard, grimacing, wondering briefly if I may have gone from bad to worse.

I went behind the bar and found a glass and a tap and poured myself a glass of water, drinking greedily.
I looked around the wrecked facility, empty glasses, bottles, cans… and let out a slow breath. I needed to do something. I needed to feel useful and so I cleaned. All the while thinking furiously, wondering how I would convince my savior on his iron horse, to let me stay.

He found me
some time later in the building’s kitchen, fixing breakfast for the masses. Doc, the man who’d come to my aid, and a few others that I didn’t know were lined up at the bar drinking black coffee out of chipped mugs bearing the eerie logo on the back wall. I hadn’t found my voice to speak to any of them, but rather did what would have been expected of me at home, passing out coffee and food silently while doing my best to remain a ghost.

“You see Ash…” my name died on his lips as his gaze traveled through the kitchen door and landed on me, standing at the industrial cooktop, spatula in my hand. He raked a hand through his shoulder length blonde hair and leveled me with his silvery eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I cleaned and now I’m cooking breakfast. I didn’t know what else I should do.” My voice was low and quiet, what Chadwick would expect of me in the morning. I closed my eyes and turned back to the frying bacon.

My savior turned around, surveying the club house and his friends who all looked at him with raised eyebrows. I tried to remember his name, but couldn’t. I wanted to say it was something simple, like John or… the bacon popped and sizzled and I jerked my hand out of danger.

“You did all this?” he asked. I turned and looked at him plaintively.

“Yes.” I said softly.  He nodded and took a seat at the bar, several of the men nodding their respect. I shuffled forward slowly and poured him a coffee.

“You don’t have to do any of this Ashton.” He said and I looked up into his face. Ruggedly handsome. I had heard the phrase before but
Ethan was the first man I had ever met that I would apply it to and it would fit. He was the image of Nordic perfection. Blonde, light eyed with a strong square jaw and mouth set into firm lines. He had angular cheekbones and a strong nose that looked as if it’d been broken a time or two. I was surprised to see it didn’t detract from his good looks but rather added to them.

“I know
Ethan.” I said faintly, proud I’d remembered his name, and set the coffee in front of him.

“Sugar? Cream?” I asked and his gaze drilled into mine. I swallowed resolute that I would not cower but I could feel the trembling starting anyways. I shot my gaze to the floor where it belonged and took a step back, surprised when his hand didn’t shoot out to stop me.

“I take it black.” He said finally, puzzlement clear in his voice.

I plated up each man bacon, eggs and hash browns, all made from scratch. The kitchen didn’t have much but it had the staples. I had found the bacon in the freezer, eggs in the fridge and the potatoes
in the pantry needed to be used or they would a have been lost cause so I had gone with preparing them over using the pancake mix I’d found in the pantry.

I set down paper plates and plastic silverware with paper towels for napkins to a round of surprised and grateful nods.

“Ashton, is that your name?” one of the men asked.

“Yes.” I murmured,
Ethan scowled.

“Thanks for cooking Ashton. No one’s ever done it before.” The man smiled and I gave a tremulous smile in return.

“You’re welcome…” I didn’t know his name, so I paused and he smiled.

“
Data.” He supplied and my brow wrinkled for a moment. What kind of name was that?

“You’re welcome Data.” I murmured. He was a lanky man, tall and thin with a mop of greasy brown hair and liquid brown eyes.

I refilled all of their coffee cups and stopped in front of Ethan’s and topped his off.

“Sit down Ashton.” He said.

“More people will be up soon. I should fix some more…”

“Please?” he asked and it caught me off guard
. I looked at him in soft surprise and the intense look in his silvery eyes had me moving to comply before I could think of another excuse as to why I was needed elsewhere.

He pulled out a stool next to him and slapped a hand on it. It was tall and I captured my lip between my teeth as I contemplated how to get up on it without hurting myself even worse. I must have waited too long because he sighed and stood and without being able to help myself I flinched.

“Easy,” he said, large hands descending on my shoulders, “No one is going to hurt you here.” He stooped and placed his hands on my hips and helped me up onto the stool.

He retook his and I folded my hands
in my lap. His tee shirt hung past my knees so I was comfortable enough in my state of dress. I settled my gaze on the center of his chest, which was bare without the benefit of his shirt. He had a tattoo on one side of his chest of the Motorcycle Club’s logo and so I focused on that.

“What were you doing out there B
aby?” he asked me and I could feel my cheeks grow warm under his scrutiny.

“I upset my husband.” I whispered.

“I’m going to need more than that Sweetheart.” He stated.

“We were coming back from a charity dinner and I contradicted something he’d said in front
of another couple, which was stupid, I know better than to upset him…” I closed my eyes, tears welling. There was a long moment of silence and I could feel all of their eyes on me.

“Please, I’
m not in the habit of causing trouble…” I began to babble, to say anything that would end that awful silence. “I’m normally very cooperative, this is really the first time we’ve ever disagreed…” I was lying through my teeth and it died on my lips when Ethan scoffed. More incredulous sounds were made down the line of men at the bar and I closed my eyes, the words turning to ash in my mouth. I was a horrible liar…

“Baby he beat the shit out o
f you.” The heat and venom in his voice scalded my mind and I forgot to breathe.

“Look at me Ashton.” My body warmed at his nearness as he stood from his seat and closed some of the gap between us. I tipped my face up and reluctantly opened my eyes. The look in his eyes as he looked at me was like a shock of ice water to my system, if ice water could leave a puddle of heat curling low in my belly.

“This,” he trailed a fingertip along my jaw and I winced pulling away from the slight touch.
That hurt…
but I suppose that was his point. “Is more than a disagreement and in case you’ve forgotten,” he put his lips beside my ear, his warm breath flaming against my skin, slightly stirring my hair.

“You
woke up in my bed mostly naked… now nothing happened, you know that, I’m sure, but we both know this wasn’t the first time he’s hurt you. Not by a long shot.” I closed my eyes and twin tears slipped hot and salty slick down my face. So he’d seen the scars. He drew back and looked at me. His words hurt, but they were the truth, and so it was that the truth hurt…