Chapter 2
Megan - Day 1
After a stressful halfhour of being interrogated by Shark, I believed he’d finally started to understand my position. He’d yanked my shirt up, exposing my bra, searching for a wire. He’d sent three of his men to search my car. He’d even dumped the contents of my purse all over the table.
It took a lot of me repeating my story before Shark was convinced that I wasn’t law enforcement. The sharp look on his face told me he wasn’t fully convinced, but he seemed less hostile after calling to check out the story I’d told him about my sister.
I informed him that I didn’t have much money to give him, so I offered to work for them as a bartender, dishwasher, or maid. I would do any type of work that wasn’t illegal and would allow me to work off my sister’s debt.
It was likely naïve thinking on my part, but I didn’t fear that this group would have a desire to sleep with me or rape me. I’m sure they would have preferred to die rather than have sex with a black woman. But, it didn’t mean that they wouldn’t hurt me in some other way or worse, kill me.
Shark waved a few of his men over to the table and took a poll on what action he should take concerning my proposal. His men weren’t keen on the idea of me working for their MC. A few requested he kill me on the spot. Some wanted to toss me into the nearest river while I was still breathing. Most of them just want me gone.
One stated, “I’m tired of looking at her black face already. Shark, are you really thinking about entertaining this crazy shit? You’re going let her work for you? For us?”
Shark didn’t answer the man. Instead, he pointed out, “This is the craziest shit I’ve ever encountered, but even you must admit it takes nuts the size of Texas for someone like this to find me and risk her life to make a proposal to square someone else’s debt. Now, I don’t associate with blacks and neither does anyone else in this room, but if you find one that stumbles into your place and pretty much offers to be your slave to square a debt...” He shook his head in disbelief with a wide grin spread across his face. “I don’t see how you turn some shit like that down. And, this bitch isn’t all the way crazy.”
Shark raised the two business cards I’d handed him during his interrogation.
“She was smart enough to let a few detectives know that she was coming to see us. Told them she was a writer and she’d come to interview us for literary integrity or some shit. The pigs advised her against it, but couldn’t stop her from doing what she wanted on her own free stupidwill.”
Shark shook his head, seemingly shaking off my crazy plan before he proceeded.
“I say we put this bitch to work. See how it goes for a few days and if she works out, we let her work off her sister’s debt and not on her fucking back either. There’s no fucking way I’m authorizing any of you to have sex with a black woman. There is more than enough cleaning, bartending, and stocking she can do. I’d say a month’s time should square her sister’s three-thousand-dollar debt.”
None of the men voiced an opinion. Some shrugged. A few irritated grunts sounded, and a few heads nodded uncaringly. One stared at my face with wide unblinking eyes like I was a unicorn.
Shark continued, “Long as she stays the fuck out of my way and do what she’s told, I say let the bitch clean up after us. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Shark slammed his fist on the table, making me jump as I didn’t understand his action. When a few of the men stepped away, I concluded that the impromptu meeting was over.
Shark addressed me, “Honey, you have officially sold yourself into slavery for thirty days. I hope that sister of yours is worth it because it’s going to be a bumpy ride.” The slick glance he flashed in my direction unnerved me as snickers sounded around the table. His deliberate use of the N-word and the word, slave, rattled my nerves and sent fear coursing through my veins.
“Think we should get a rope or better yet a whip?” one of the men asked Shark with a low, throaty whisper. They continued to stand while I remained glued to the seat I’d been slung into, unsure of what to do with myself.
Shark stood. He slammed his hand down on the table again making the wood vibrate.
“Didn’t I just fucking say she was clever enough to let the authorities know that she was coming here? Anything fucked up happens to her, this is the first place they are going to look. We don’t need the fucking pigs sniffing around our door over this stupid bitch. We’ll let her work off her sister’s debt, and that’s it. As much as I’d like to have a good old-fashioned modern-day lynching, it isn’t going to happen…at least not with her.”
Shark’s mean scowl intensified as his voice deepened. “Do I need to repeat the part about not fucking her? From what I hear, black pussy makes white men do strange shit.”
Shark paused to ensure that his words had been understood. A round of head nods and grumbles sounded.
Was grunting and grumbling all these men knew how to do? And, why had Shark felt the need to reiterate to them that they were not to fuck me? I thought they found the thought of sleeping with an African-American woman to be repulsive?
“Jake, since you or your brother was stupid enough to give her sister drugs on credit, you take her to drop off that rental she drove up in and pick up whatever girl shit she might need for thirty days. We can’t have her coming and going around these parts. There are too many damn rednecks around here. We don’t need them nosing in our business and we definitely don’t want one of them to get hold of her.”
Copper County, Florida, was the area I had foolishly driven myself into. Copper County was an area known for its racial divide. Since the county was eighty percent Caucasian, based on a few reports I’d read, their warped view of race remained unchecked.
Jake sighed heavily, upset about having to babysit me for any amount of time. Shark pointed a long authoritative finger at him. The mean glint in his gaze dared Jake to test him further.
“Straighten out your fucking face, take her to drop off that car, and come right back.”
Shark’s daring gaze raked over the group once more. The music had started again, and a low murmur resumed as it was clear that Shark had made his final decision.
“I’m tired of talking about this shit. It’s giving me a fucking-ass ulcer. Are we done with this, so we can talk about some real business?” Shark asked although I was sure he didn’t want to hear any answer.
A series of low grumbles sounded after Shark’s statement, but no one was bold enough to challenge or question him. My gaze darted around the table. This was it. I’d gotten in. Now, all I had to do was survive the next thirty days amongst a racist MC of dishonest, venomous, and coiled rattlesnakes.