Abandoned Angel (3 page)

“This one is mine Blaze,” he continued, directing his comment to the other biker.

Angelina sat quietly. It looked as though the two of them were going to fight over whom she would be riding. She had not planned on riding with either of them. Apparently, she had no say in the matter. Angelina, confused by what was happening, had no choice but to let it play out as she sat there helplessly.

Blaze held on to Angelina’s arm, intending to take her from the bald man. As far as he was concerned, the woman would be going with him.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, pulling her up from the stool. Angelina stood quickly, surprised by the jolt. The first biker was not ready to give her up.

“She’ll be leaving with me Blaze,” he demanded. Anger filtered through his words as he hit his chest hard while emphasizing the word “ME”. Angelina stood, wide-eyed and nervous.

The other men stepped back as the situation intensified. They had seen the two men go at it before, and both of them had walked away bloodied. They did not intend to get into the middle of it.

“Back off Spike, I got this one,” ordered the handsomer of the two men. The dark color of his six o’clock shadow matched the stormy color of his hair. Blaze pulled Angelina closer to him, away from the others. He did not intend to allow Spike to take the woman. He had been observing her since she first walked into the bar, and intended to have the attractive outsider ride with him.

Spike stood, a bit drunk on his feet, ready for a fight. Frustrated, he flung his black and red bandana to the floor, revealing the rest of his tattooed head. The black skull, balanced with evil green eyes, had a large nail (spike) hammered into the design. Angelina wondered if they called him Spike because of the tattoo, or if he had gotten the tattoo because they called him Spike. Either way, the eerie image posted on his head intimidated her.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talking to Blaze?” he asked, rubbing his skull. “She is riding with me, I had her first. Back off.”

“And I have her now,” Blaze stated, “and I don’t share,” he clarified with a deliberate sneer as he turned to walk away, expecting Angelina to follow.

Spike threw his mug to the ground, shattering the glass over the dirty floor. When he leaned in to grab Angelina’s arm, Blaze stopped him by stepping in front of the frightened woman. He jerked Spike’s arm away without much effort, and then shoved him against the bar. Spike, unwilling to let it go, pulled a blade out of the back pocket of his faded jeans. Sweat trickled down the side of his head. Blaze stood his ground, as if daring the enraged biker to make a move. He showed no fear. Spike hesitated, knowing that the alcohol he consumed would slow his reflexes. With Blaze as the opponent - that would be a problem. He had seen the man fight, and Blaze knew what he was doing. The hefty bartender took a step between them, stopping the confrontation from going any farther.

“Is she really worth it man?” he asked Spike, trying to keep the men from scrapping. Spike was right, the girl was his first, but Blaze was not going to back down. The bartender could see it in his expression. Spike pushed his bar stool hard to the ground in protest and reluctantly returned his sharp blade to his back pocket. He would have loved to use the blade on the cocky man for embarrassing him, but the bar was not the place to settle it. That would have to come later, and it would.

“Damn right you will share her Blaze,” Spike hollered, trying to keep some dominance. His voice was loud and alarming. Blaze, still in control, turned towards the door unruffled, with Angelina in tow.

Before Angelina really had time to think about what was happening, Blaze, the biker who had called her Angel, hustled her towards the exit. The quick jolt he caused by yanking her, caused her ribs to scream in pain. She turned and looked towards the laughter and whistles as they were leaving. She caught one more glance at the baldheaded man they called Spike. His glare tore through her. As afraid as she was to go with Blaze, she was even more afraid to have stayed with the others.

When they stepped outside into the early morning light, the orange color of the sky confused Angelina. She entered the bar thinking it was nighttime, but dawn had arrived while she was in the building. Realizing that she had been unconscious longer than she thought, fear trickled through her. The rueful mother wondered if Justin was safe. A lot of precious time had slipped away. Her heart sank a little more than it had before, praying that her son was not harmed by his father.

“Sit there and wait,” commanded the dominant stranger, shoving her towards the ground. She grabbed her tender side as she stumbled, struggling to catch her breath. She then lowered herself to the cement porch and sat quietly, watching as the biker lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply, and then allowed the smoke to seep slowly out of his experienced mouth. He said nothing, repeating the process until he was finished with his cigarette. Angelina watched as he flicked it to the dirt below. He then began to fidget with his bike as he prepared for the ride, disregarding Angelina all together. She thought about getting up to run, but knew that she had nowhere to go. With her body aching as it was, catching her would take little effort. Besides, there was not another building in sight - she would be running into nothing land. Instead, she remained motionless and quiet, for a long time, her body wanting to fall asleep. She was close to dozing off when the intimidating biker finally spoke to her.

“Where do you need to go?” Blaze asked, cautiously watching as the others exited the bar and began to tend to their motorcycles. He understood that he had crossed the line with Spike. The angry man would probably retaliate, but Blaze would have to deal with that later.

Angelina had been trying to figure out where Rusty would have taken Justin and at that moment, she knew.

“Iowa,” she simply stated, afraid to say too much to the brusque man.

Blaze turned, a rough grin smeared across his face and asked, “What the hell do you want to go there for?” For an instant, his eyes seemed lifeless. “Who chooses to go to Iowa? All they have is cornfields and pigs.”

His response caught Angelina off guard. She quietly stared at him, confused by his apparent distaste for the state. If it had been a different situation, the comment might have amused her. With a different situation, his rugged good looks might have impressed her. It was not a different situation though.

Blaze did not wait for her to answer.

“Do you have a jacket?” he asked.

Angelina shook her head no. She had nothing other than what she wore - old rugged jeans, a dark tee shirt, dirty white socks and shoes, and her bra and panties. That was it.

“Gonna get cold then for a bit,” he warned, not offering any help with the situation. With that, he swung his leg up over the seat of his chromed Harley and revved the engine a couple of times before continuing.

“I’m Blaze,” he stated with a firm matter of fact expression.

Angelina tried to force a grateful smile as she stood and brushed her jeans off. She did her best to ignore the pain her bruised body caused her, but struggled to do so. Either Blaze did not notice how carefully she moved, or he just did not care. Either way his expression indicated that her pain was not his problem.

“Get on,” ordered the biker, his jaw firm with control. “I’ll take you as far as I can as long as you do as I say.”

She nodded in agreement. What else was she going to do?

“Everything I say,” he continued, a smirk crept across his stern face. “No question’s asked; otherwise you will have the others to deal with, and they do like to share.”

His intense eyes met Angelina’s as he stared her down, making sure she understood what he was saying. The comment flustered the woman, catching her off guard. She stood for a moment, taking his words in. Uncertain about what she was doing, Angelina cautiously pressed her weight onto the sturdy back peg and swung her leg over the short back seat, trying not to groan as she did so. Silently, she prayed for God to help her survive the ride and find her son. She replayed the conversation the men had in the bar as if it were a record playing in her head. She cringed each time she reheard Blaze say “I don’t share,” assuming he intended to claim her as his own.

Angelina inadvertently held her breath as they pulled out of the secluded parking lot. Her heartbeat raced as she further processed the fact that her life was now in the hands of a complete stranger. Desperately tired, her body remained groggy from the events of the night before. She continued to struggle with rousing herself completely, and wished she knew what Rusty had forced her to take, though really, knowing would not have made a bit of difference. Her clouded mind made her feel as if she were in a tunnel, struggling to get out. As the group of bikers headed down the highway, the seriousness of the danger surrounding Angelina started to sink in. She was afraid.

Angelina listened to the roar of the thunderous group of motorcycles, intimidated by the sound as the vibrations merged around her. She placed her hands palm down on her bruised thighs. She had not been on a motorcycle for years and debated holding on to the sides of Blazes dark leather jacket. Blaze was right about needing one. The air was much colder from the back of the moving bike than it had been sitting still. As Angelina tried to force herself to relax on the passenger seat of the robust motorcycle, Blaze suddenly pressed firmly on the brakes. She jerked forward. Her chest pressed into the man’s backside. Not only did the motion startle Angelina, but it also sent sharp twinges down her aching body. Her ribs seemed to shriek. She instinctively reached for her breasts. Blaze watched as she did so, eyeing her voluptuous body. He had gotten the response he was after. His cold smirk was the deciding factor - she would not place her hands on him if she could help it.

The dark sunglasses Blaze wore enhanced his strong jawline. His stern, confident expression worried Angelina while intriguing her at the same time. She could tell that it was an earned confidence, not a showy one. The virile biker rode with no particular emotion pressed across his face. Unable to help herself, Angelina curiously watched his reflection in the mirror. Worried by the cold stare he held, Angelina wondered if she should have taken her chances with the other biker; the one they called Spike. Either way she was probably on the losing end of the deal.

Several bikes had pulled out of the parking lot before Blaze pulled his Harley onto the highway. Another group of motorcycles flew pass them as they continued on their way. Angelina wondered where they had all come from. There did not seem to be that many people in the bar. Woman rode bitch on the back seat of a few of the bikes, but most of the men drove alone. She watched as the other women passed, wondering if she looked as lost and sleazy as they did. They stared back at her, seemingly amused by her battered appearance. Angelina recognized one woman from the bar. The table dancer looked different in her fringed white leather jacket. The blank stare was the same. Each of the bikers eyed her as he drove pass, making it clear to Angelina that strangers were not welcome. If the intent was to scare her, it worked. Blaze stared straight ahead as he rode, never acknowledging anyone. A final biker drove up next to them and kept the same pace as Blaze. The men drove next to each other, side by side, matching each other’s speed for a couple of miles. Their chrome foot pegs were no more than a few inches apart. Angelina’s heartbeat increased as she tensed. She tried to keep from tormenting about how easily the two bikes could collide, to no avail. The dull red and white motorcycle seemed to drown out the growl of Blaze’s bike, rumbling as the driver revved the engine. The chrome handlebars were taller and set farther apart than what Blazes were, causing the bikers leathered hands to rest at about the same height as his eyes. Although a number of the other bikes had the full handlebars, his seemed more exaggerated than the rest. Angelina stared, wondering if the man was comfortable riding in such an unnatural position. It was an odd thought, considering her predicament.

Blaze nodded at the older biker and held his pace. They continued to ride bike to bike for a while, each of them staring straight ahead, before the other biker pulled in front of Blaze, taking his place in line. The group rode together with the lead bike on the far left of the lane, and the next bike on the far right. The remainder of the bikers followed in line in the same fashion, looking as if they had done it a thousand times before. They drove this way until they came to a quiet town surrounded by desert landscaping. While slowly passing thru the town, Blaze pulled beside the older man riding in front of him. Again, they rode bike to bike. Blaze spoke over the low sound of the rough engines.

“Doc, this is Angelina,” Blaze said as he motioned to the woman with a nod of his head. Confused by the fact that Blaze found it necessary to introduce them, Angelina smiled shyly. She did not realize how innocent that particular smile made her look. Doc lifted his dark sunglasses and grinned at the woman, taking in her battered face. His mischievous eyes sparkled as he blatantly eyed her round breasts as they bounced to the movement of the highway. Angelina silently cursed the fact that she was wearing such an old, lightweight bra. Well-endowed for her petite figure, the bra gave her very little support on the bike. His hungry gaze caused her to become aware of how much she jiggled as they traveled on the bumpy road. Angelina turned her head away from Doc, embarrassed by her blushed face. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how degraded his leer made her feel.