well. The bearded man must be the President of Lucifer’s Breed, and the others his lieutenants. Those were his most trusted allies along with his bodyguards. Just the same as any club, the President surrounded himself, many times they were VPs, Sgts at Arms, and Suits, or Lawyers.
Big Dog nodded at her, looked at his counterpart, and introduced her as Oracle.
“She was there the night of the meeting, she saw everything.” He turned his attention back on her and said, “Talk, tell us everything that happened that night and afterwards.”
The bearded President piped up, “Hang on a minute, if you’re going to waste my time bringing your fuck doll here to shovel shit in my lap, forget it.”
Big Dog shook his head, “I haven’t tapped that yet. I might at some point, but I have more important things to think about than trying to fuck this up by screwing a witness. One that took almost three years to track down. There’s no history here.” He nodded at Future.
Future talked, she looked at the bearded leader and kept her eyes on his. “Everyone was drinking, and those who had partners available, were having sex. Frenchy was playing his guitar by one of the campfires, everything was peaceful. The bikes ran over bedrolls, scattered stuff, and the men shot tasers at random people. One of your men carried a sawed-off shotgun and I heard it go off, but didn’t see who got hit. I was almost to the bikes when Dorsey grabbed me and shoved me behind him to get the two Breed off his ass that were chasing him.
“Reeker and several others forced themselves on me, when I fought back, he punched me out. The next thing I knew, I was tied to a hook in a cabin by a wide leather collar and a leash. They made me watch as they beat Frenchy to death, and Reeker hung Frenchy’s body upside down by his feet. They made me watch as they kicked his head into hamburger.” She was doing her best not to vomit from the remembered smell of blood and the sight of Frenchy when they’d finally finished with him.
“Jarl, Reeker, Mule and another man that I never heard his name, they held me there for over three weeks, torturing and violating my body. The last night I think they planned to kill me, but wanted to have their fun first.” She went on with her story and told them about waking up in the hospital. She stood with her hands at her sides, waiting to be dismissed.
Bearded man smiled at her. “Now let me get this straight, Jarl and Mule claimed to be the club President and Vice?” At her nod, he continued, “So, you had sex for a few weeks with my boys, and had to tell your old man the reason you played rabbit and ran that night. Rather than tell him the truth, you make up a story about abuse and being tortured for sympathy. So now you have to keep the story, right?”
The six men in the room were staring at her. All she had to prove her words were the scars she carried. She didn’t want to do what had to be done, thinking of the revulsion she knew she would see once they saw her scars was enough to make her want to run, but the only way to gain what she wanted was to do it.
She began with her boots, and shimmied out of her tight jeans. Her colors were handed to Freakshow and she stared at the skeptical leader of Lucifer’s Breed, as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, then straightened up and dared him to say she had enjoyed one minute of the torture his men had done to her. She stepped back two steps to let them see the whole front and turned around slowly to stare at the canvas wall behind her. She let them look their fill, and raised her hands to pull her long hair to the front of her body, so the men could see the carved words in her skin, half of which were melted together in a grotesque mess of shiny purple and red skin. She heard “Holy fuck, did he actually carve wings in her shoulders? FALLEN and an A and an N.” There were other words, but when she heard someone
Big Dog nodded at her, looked at his counterpart, and introduced her as Oracle.
“She was there the night of the meeting, she saw everything.” He turned his attention back on her and said, “Talk, tell us everything that happened that night and afterwards.”
The bearded President piped up, “Hang on a minute, if you’re going to waste my time bringing your fuck doll here to shovel shit in my lap, forget it.”
Big Dog shook his head, “I haven’t tapped that yet. I might at some point, but I have more important things to think about than trying to fuck this up by screwing a witness. One that took almost three years to track down. There’s no history here.” He nodded at Future.
Future talked, she looked at the bearded leader and kept her eyes on his. “Everyone was drinking, and those who had partners available, were having sex. Frenchy was playing his guitar by one of the campfires, everything was peaceful. The bikes ran over bedrolls, scattered stuff, and the men shot tasers at random people. One of your men carried a sawed-off shotgun and I heard it go off, but didn’t see who got hit. I was almost to the bikes when Dorsey grabbed me and shoved me behind him to get the two Breed off his ass that were chasing him.
“Reeker and several others forced themselves on me, when I fought back, he punched me out. The next thing I knew, I was tied to a hook in a cabin by a wide leather collar and a leash. They made me watch as they beat Frenchy to death, and Reeker hung Frenchy’s body upside down by his feet. They made me watch as they kicked his head into hamburger.” She was doing her best not to vomit from the remembered smell of blood and the sight of Frenchy when they’d finally finished with him.
“Jarl, Reeker, Mule and another man that I never heard his name, they held me there for over three weeks, torturing and violating my body. The last night I think they planned to kill me, but wanted to have their fun first.” She went on with her story and told them about waking up in the hospital. She stood with her hands at her sides, waiting to be dismissed.
Bearded man smiled at her. “Now let me get this straight, Jarl and Mule claimed to be the club President and Vice?” At her nod, he continued, “So, you had sex for a few weeks with my boys, and had to tell your old man the reason you played rabbit and ran that night. Rather than tell him the truth, you make up a story about abuse and being tortured for sympathy. So now you have to keep the story, right?”
The six men in the room were staring at her. All she had to prove her words were the scars she carried. She didn’t want to do what had to be done, thinking of the revulsion she knew she would see once they saw her scars was enough to make her want to run, but the only way to gain what she wanted was to do it.
She began with her boots, and shimmied out of her tight jeans. Her colors were handed to Freakshow and she stared at the skeptical leader of Lucifer’s Breed, as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, then straightened up and dared him to say she had enjoyed one minute of the torture his men had done to her. She stepped back two steps to let them see the whole front and turned around slowly to stare at the canvas wall behind her. She let them look their fill, and raised her hands to pull her long hair to the front of her body, so the men could see the carved words in her skin, half of which were melted together in a grotesque mess of shiny purple and red skin. She heard “Holy fuck, did he actually carve wings in her shoulders? FALLEN and an A and an N.” There were other words, but when she heard someone
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