REMI
Pain. Everywhere around me was pain. There wasn’t a part of my body that didn’t hurt, which only told me one thing. I was still alive.
I wish I could remember a time when there was no pain, but I couldn’t. The pain was all-consuming. Even the little breaths I took hurt. I had lived through pain before, but nothing like this.
From the moment I stepped on that plane and the door was closed, the pain was my constant companion. What made things worse this time was that Darrin wasn’t alone. No, this time, another man, viler, was more sinister than I ever thought possible.
I’d seen the man before. I was shocked to see him with Darrin. He didn’t belong here, but there he was, sitting in the dark, laughing as Darrin punched and kicked me until he got his first drop of blood. Laying there on the floor of the plane, I did nothing. I couldn’t. I knew what would happen if I did. Yet, when the man in the shadows knelt before me and smiled, I couldn’t stop myself. I screamed, and that was the last thing I remembered.
I woke up lying on the concrete floor of a filthy room. It wasn’t big, barely the size of a broom closet, but it was the bars on the window that captured my attention. Trying to stand, I ignored the pain, my old friend, as I shuffled towards the window before me. Reaching up, I tried to grab the bars only to realize that two of my fingers were bent at an odd angle.
They were broke. Yet, I didn’t feel the pain I knew they were causing. I wondered why I couldn’t feel them. Was something else wrong that I didn’t know? Looking over my body, I wasn’t shocked in the least to see that I’d been stripped of everything, but the ankle bracelet was new. Bending over, I groaned. My back was stiff and ached, but nothing like what I knew it could be. Touching the hard plastic, I tried to feel a way to take it off, only to feel a small padlock.
Sighing, I returned to my efforts to see outside. Standing back up, I looked out the window into a world I remembered perfectly.
I was back in Louisiana.
Sighing, I turned from the window and sat in the corner of my cell, waiting for what was to come. And it would, it always did.
I thought of Max, wondering what he was doing now. Was he out riding his bike? Laughing with his brothers, playing pool? I hoped whatever he was doing, he was happy.
Then my heart fell when I remembered what Uncle Peter said.
I didn’t want to believe him. I really didn’t. I knew Max would never align himself with men like Darrin. Max was a survivor. He lived this hell for a short period of time. I knew there was no way he could do what had been done to him, to others. It wasn’t possible.
Yet, I couldn’t figure out why Uncle Peter would say what he said for the life of me. It made no sense. Was Uncle Peter telling me the truth? Was Max somehow involved in all this? I didn’t really know much about biker clubs, and from what I experienced, they were a tight-knit group of men. But they, like everyone else, had their secrets. I never came out and asked Max what he did, what it meant to be a Golden Skull, maybe I should have.
Curling myself closer to the concrete wall, I didn’t have to wait long to find the answer I was seeking because a few minutes later, a big man with a Golden Skull cut came in and grinned.
“Well, lookie who’s awake.”
“Are you here to save me?” I asked, hoping, but deep down, I knew the truth. I didn’t want to believe it. Yet it was staring me right in the face. Max was apart of all this. He was the reason for my life. Why I was taken. He had his fill of me and wanted me gone. Uncle Peter was right. Max worked for the very devils. He was a monster just like the other.
“Save you? Why would I save you.”
“Because I’m Reapers woman.”
The big man laughed. “Oh, that’s a good one. Prez wouldn’t ever have a used-up whore like you for an ol’Lady. Your nothing but fodder for the men to use.”
“Never mind,” I muttered, accepting the reality of my life. He was right. Max wasn’t going to save me. He wasn’t the man I thought he was. He was the very devil himself, worse than Darrin. He fooled me, tricked me into trusting him, loving him, then threw me away like the mere garbage beneath his feet. And maybe he was right. Perhaps I was garbage, a used-up whore that nobody wanted.
I didn’t care anymore.
My life started off like shit, and it looked like it would end that way. I couldn’t trust anyone. Everyone lied. Everyone had their own agendas that mattered more than me. In a way, accepting my fate was liberating. I didn’t have to worry about getting my GED. I didn’t have to worry about my brother and sister, who were out there in the world and were better off without me. I prayed they found good parents who loved them. They deserved a better life than I lived. I prayed that my life was enough payment for them to have the life I always dreamed of.
I didn’t have to worry about anything.
I had nothing left to lose.
It was just me, and I was just a shell. Eventually, I would die, and then, just maybe, I could have the peace I’d been seeking.
“Time for some fun,” the big man said, grabbing my arm, jerking me hard to my feet. I said nothing as he dragged me from the small room down a long dark hallway. I could feel the water under my feet as I stumbled along the way.
I never did like Louisiana. The weather was muggy and damp most days. I found it hard to breathe here, with the bayou so close. The air was suffocating at times, and the insects and bugs were plentiful. I missed the fresh, clean air of the coast as the wind blew in from the ocean.
Stop. Don’t think of it.
Chastising myself, I removed that memory from my mind. I wouldn’t go there. I couldn’t. It was too painful. I needed to keep a clear head because when the big man stopped and threw me into another room, I knew what was about to happen.