Authors: Kayden Lee
Before Angelina could react, Blaze pressed himself up against her small frame. She wanted to scream or to fight but instead she froze in fear, as she always did. Blaze had quickly trapped her, and experience had proven that the more she fought the harder they hit. Angelina had become accustomed to letting things happen to her instead of trying to stop the abuse. She had learned to allow her mind to drift to a different place when bad things happened. It had not always been that way though. When Angelina was nineteen and moved out of her father’s house, she had taken karate lessons, determined not to let another man hurt her. She trained on and off for a couple of years and had gotten pretty good in class. She felt like a new, confident woman while she trained, and for a while, she believed she would never allow a man to control her again. If she got into a relationship that was not good for her, she pushed her way out. Then she met Rusty, the man she would end up marrying. He was tall and handsome with hair that always seemed to shine. After she started dating Rusty, he convinced her that she did not need the karate training because he would always be there to protect her. At first, it was simple teasing, but then he began to belittle the classes, making her feel foolish for spending her hard-earned money on them. She quit a few months into the relationship, and a little at a time, as he began to isolate her, the confidence died back down. Because Rusty was such a smooth talker, she never realized what was happening, until it was too late. The manipulative man didn’t start beating Angelina until a couple of years into the marriage. By then he had already defeated her emotionally. He controlled her every move, and kept her from having friends. Her father had passed away about a year after they married, leaving her with no family. The fact is he would have done nothing to help her out of the situation even if he had lived. She grew up raised by a man with the same mentality as her husband. When the beatings first started she had tried to fight back, but that proved to make things worse. She quit trying to defend herself years ago. Now, as Blaze held her body pushed against the wall, she once again had that desire to fight. Having a stranger violate her seemed so much worse than what she put up with as a married woman. She knew what to expect from Rusty, and knew that when he stopped with the abuse it would be over for at least a couple of weeks. She had no idea what to expect from this mysterious biker, and that scared her.
During the ride, Angelina had tried to convince herself that she would do whatever was required of her in order to make it to her son. She told herself that it did not matter what they did to her, as long as they took her to her boy. Angelina had not expected her instincts to take over in this situation, but they did. Blaze, who stood about six inches taller than Angelina, and about ninety pounds heavier, kept his tense body pressed hard against her, holding her in place. He was a strong man and handled her easily. Angelina’s mind raced as she felt his hot breath blow against her bruised cheek. In her panic, it was difficult to gather a lungful of air, but she did her best not to show it. She slapped at his arm as he went for her shirt. Blaze, the faster of the two, reacted quickly, confidently. The attempt to stop him was useless. Angelina knew this. Blaze smirked as she tried. Her inadequate effort amused him.
With a simple motion, Blaze had both of Angelina’s arms trapped against the wall above her head. She closed her eyes and waited for the blow or the grope that was sure to follow. It was better not to watch. Instead, his other hand reached for the sharp blade he kept in the front pocket of his chaps. She opened her eyes just in time to see him point the handle in her direction. Her eyes lit up with complete terror for a moment before she clamped them closed again. With a quick motion, Blaze released the blade and quickly sliced the top of her shirt from just above the full of her breasts to the edge of her collar, pressed lightly against her neck. Angelina opened her eyes, surprised that she was neither cut nor in the process of being raped. Her full breasts heaved dramatically as she tried, unsuccessfully, to control her panic. Blaze seemed amused by the fear he caused, which scared her even more. He continued to keep his strong grip tightened around her thin wrists, keeping her arms secured above her head. Disgust tattooed her features as he pressed his gruff cheek up against the side of her smooth, bruised face and then lowered his mouth so that it brushed against the full of her breasts, lightly touching her clothed nipple, and then back up again.
“Yum,” he huffed, placing his mouth close to her ear. Pulling his weight off Angelina, Blaze slowly ran the tip of the sharp blade lightly down her belly, staking his claim, though never cutting the skin.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, his warm breath tingling against the side of her face. Blaze then used the blade to do the same thing to the bottom part of her dirt-stained shirt. The tip of the blade entered the fabric about an inch under her breasts and ran down thru the bottom of the material, splitting it. He exposed most of her flat stomach. The metal lightly grazed her skin, but left no marks. Had she not been so terrified, his skilled technique might have impressed her. Relief overwhelmed Angelina when Blaze released her slender arms. Defeated, her limbs went limp and fell to her sides. She looked down at the cuts he had made to her shirt, still uncertain as to what was happening. Blaze quickly returned his blade to his leather pocket and grabbed both ends of the bottom of her tattered shirt, wrenching her towards him. The throbbing in her head was back with a vengeance, and the aching of her body seemed to intensify with every movement she made. While staring into her bewildered eyes, he tied the two ends of the shirt in a knot just under her breasts. The top of his knuckles rubbed against the bottom of her boobs as he did so, putting a greedy smirk on his face. Angelina watched his every move as she tried to figure out what it was that he wanted from her. Blaze fervently eyed her cleavage through the slit he created in the top part of her shirt, indicating he would return there later. After tying the shirt, Blaze reached into the back pocket of his jeans and retrieved a crumpled black and white bandana. He continued to eye Angelina coldly as he did this.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
Angelina, too frightened to disobey, did as instructed. To her surprise, Blaze reached around the front of her body and draped the folded bandana around her forehead. At the back of her head, he tightly tied the ends together, locking her hair in place.
When he was done, he simply stated, “If you are going to ride with us, you need to look the part.”
His voice was abrupt, indicating that he had no real concern for her or anything she stood for.
“Go pee,” he stated.
Angelina hesitated, still confused over what – did not - happen but unzipped her faded jeans just the same. She quickly wiped down the pee-splattered toilet with a handful of toilet paper, and then sat and urinated as quickly as she could. Nervous about having him in the room, it took a minute to get the flow started. Blaze rinsed his face in the small sink as she peed. Although he did not watch, her humility was gone. She wiped herself without looking up at him. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing how humbled she was by peeing in front of him. Her breathing had finally slowed, and although she felt disgusted, the relief she felt was even stronger. She understood that she was safe for the time being, he would not rape her there in the bathroom. Angelina flushed and as an afterthought grabbed some extra toilet paper and stuck it in the back pocket of her denim jeans. She had no idea where she would be peeing next, but was particular about keeping herself clean.
Blaze, not missing the act, stepped back from the sink. He left the water running for her when he was done. Angelina washed her hands and followed suit, rinsing her face as well. The cold water felt good on her cut lip and tender jaw. She was glad to see that it had not swollen as badly as it felt - though it had swollen. She noticed a small cut above her left eyebrow and washed the dark, dried blood from the injury. Considering what she had been thru, her overall appearance was not too bad. The dingily colored skin around her eye showed its abuse and her obviously discolored cheek had swollen, but she had seen worse. Between the exposed cleavage and biker bandana she now wore, Angelina looked like she had an edge. Throw in the cuts and bruises; she actually looked like a bad-assed biker bitch. The thought put an odd sort of smirk across her face. It had been a long time since she looked at herself and liked what she saw. As odd as it seemed, at that moment, she liked what she saw in the mirror. It was then that she realized she wanted an edge, she wanted control, and she did not want to be a victim anymore. She REFUSED to be a victim anymore. For the first time, she truly believed she would survive her trip with the club members. She would be with her son again by handling whatever it was they chose to dish out. Was it a bit foolish to think it would be that simple? Of course, but at that moment, she needed to believe in herself, and she chose to do exactly that.
Through the reflection in the mirror, Blaze caught Angelina’s expression. He liked the way she looked with the slight grin on her face. He could not help but do the same. He recognized the new spark in her eyes, and although he would not have admitted it, he was glad to see it. She would be a firecracker after all, and he liked feisty in his women.
Angelina looked up in time to catch Blaze’s grin reflected in the mirror. It was the first time she had seen him with a real smile, minute as it was. She assumed he was pleased with the look he had created for her. The anger lifted from his features when he grinned, softening his jawline. Until then, he had appeared both rugged and unbreakable. With his pouting mouth turned up at the corners, his whole persona seemed to soften. Angelina continued to study his face in the reflection of the dirt-doused mirror. Her gaze turned to the white scar just below the right side of his lower lip. It was barely noticeable but caught her attention just the same. She wondered how he had gotten it. The intrigued woman did not realize that Blaze was studying her reflection as well. As her vision moved below his chin, she concentrated on the gold karate emblem that hung loosely around his neck.
Blaze reached for the emblem absently, rubbing it between his fingers, mesmerized by the memories the karate figure brought back. His face hardened as he recalled the day his wife, Michelle, gave it to him. She placed the gold chain with the karate emblem attached in a shiny red box. She handed her surprised husband, bloodied from the fight, the gift after he won his first martial arts tournament – a lifetime ago. Michelle was so proud of Blaze. She had told him this repeatedly that night as they made love. Blaze understood how much Michelle hated to watch him fight, yet she always took care of him without complaint when the match was over, whether he won or not. Blaze missed his wife deeply.
Angelina’s glance moved back up to the biker’s eyes as Blaze release the emblem from his fingertips. His expression was changed. The anger controlled him again. He did nothing to hide it. She wondered what had caused him so much hurt and rage.
BAM, BAM. The pounding at the door startled Angelina.
“Finish it up in there it’s riding time!” Doc yelled through the thin wood.
“Let’s go baby. You done fucking her yet?” laughed a woman from the other side of the door. “Some of us really do have to pee you know.”
“Piss off Jules,” Doc scolded in order to shut the foul woman up. She was not to forget her place.
Angelina turned towards the bathroom door, still a bit confused about what had happened in there. As she opened the door, Blaze quickly pulled her into him, grabbed one of her breasts hard enough to make it ache, and kissed her with firm aggression. It was not an act of lust but an act of control. Angelina was intently aware of this.
Blaze snickered, pushing her away from him when he was done. Angelina, embarrassed and a bit flustered by the act, brushed in front of Doc and the scraggly woman he called Jules as she flitted down the aisle. On Angelina’s way out of the gas station, she heard a young biker declare in his smug, immature voice, “Guess she’s gonna earn her keep after all.” He laughed, amused by the thought.
Angelina refused to let him get to her and instead, held her head high as she hustled back to the bike, as if she belonged exactly where she were.
Not a victim
, she told herself.
Not a victim anymore.
Angelina was acutely aware of the focus the gruff bikers were putting on her. She felt their cold stares cut into her. With her cleavage showing, and her tanned belly peeking through, she looked like a different person than what she had that morning. Her dirty dark shirt, which had previously clung to her shapely body, cupped her large boobs, the knot cradling them. The slice Blaze made at the base of her neck parted the material, and showed not only her cleavage but also quite a bit of the upper part of her breasts. She was definitely beginning to look as if she belonged with the bikers, and they eyed her as if she were a piece of ass to take at will. Alarmed by their obvious desire, she was relieved when Blaze joined her next to the motorcycle. He handed her a pair of sunglasses that still had the tags attached.
Blaze simply stated, “Time to go,” as he slid onto his sun baked leather seat. Angelina did the same. As they drove away, she wondered if he had paid for the glasses or just taken them. She also wondered how the bikers survived financially. It was a fleeting thought that only lasted for a moment. In all actuality, what did it matter?
“Are we almost there yet?” Justin asked - his voice quivering with fear, as his heart filled with sadness. They had been riding for a very long time, and the tired boy wanted to go home, where he felt safe and loved. The only stops they had made so far were for gas, and to pee along the side of the quiet road. Justin slept soundly for most of the drive, but now he longed for his mommy.