Marine Proector: Brotherhood Protectors World Read online

  I might as well tell him the whole story. He’s in charge of protecting me. And what if Z shows up at the tattoo parlor? Yeah, I’d better tell him everything now, for my own safety.

  “When I started dating Z, I thought he was cool. Bad boy, drove a Harley, was in a motorcycle club. Sexy, like the guy in Sons of Anarchy or one of those guys in the movies. Women always coming on to him. But he chose me. I was waitressing in a diner in Philly. He asked me out, and I went.”

  “What kind of MC?” Timbers asked.

  Wow, he’s direct. Not like Z at all.

  It was one of the things she liked about Timbers.

  “Not a ‘one percent’ club, but a want to be one percent, if you understand that kind of thing.”

  “Yep. I’m a marine. Lots of marines in clubs. I’ve driven a Harley. Sold it before my second tour. And I’ve got tats. So, I get all that. Go on.”

  “We were dating, and he slowly sucked me into his world until things got bad, and I knew I needed to get out.”

  He took a deep breath and said, “How bad?”

  “The night I ran, he’d decided he needed to pull me more into the club. He got me drunk, and then announced he was going to share me with his club brothers. Make me part of the club. Which was bullshit, because the women who are accepted as ‘ole ladies’ are treated with more respect than that, and aren’t shared around. Basically, he’d decided I was his whore, and he was gonna let his brothers gang-bang me.”

  “I’m glad you got out.” Timbers tone was deep and serious. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

  She could feel his tension clear to her bones. “Me, too. I escaped a night of hell.”

  “How did you escape?”

  “Z sent the first guy in. They’d all been drinking. We all had. I was on the bed, with a whiskey sour buzz, feeling good. Z had been making out with me, and then we had sex. But the minute he was done, he was off me. Stood looking down at me and told me what he was going to do. What I was going to do. It hardly registered before he left the room and sent the first guy in. I was shocked he’d do that, but I knew I had to get away. I wasn’t down for that, but I knew they’d make me do that anyway.”

  “Rape,” Timbers emphasized. “That is rape.”

  Timbers cut right to things. No dancing around. All right, need to call it what it is and look it head on. He’s right.

  “Yeah. Rape.” She set her jaw for a minute, feeling the anger, then continued, “Z went out and closed the door. Then Ice comes in, and he’s dropping his pants, ready to do me.”

  Timbers hands adjusted on the wheel, but his facial expression didn’t change as he controlled his anger.

  Red watched him from the corner of her eye. “I was drunk but knew I had to fight. I punched Ice in the nose. He wasn’t expecting it, so I hit him square on, and then he fell on top of me, breaking the bed. He’s a lot bigger than me. Z and the guys in the other room heard the bed break, and Z yelled, ‘Get it Ice!’ They all laughed. Then he yelled, ‘Bring her out here when you’re done. We don’t need no bed.’ They were all laughing, while I was struggling to get out from under him.”

  Timbers knuckles gleamed white and a muscle in his neck started to twitch.

  Yeah, he’s pissed.

  Red knew the signs to look for.

  “I got lucky, because Ice was drunk, and he’d been doing meth. He went still and had that weird meth kind of look on his face, which told me his brain was working slow and his reflexes, too. I used the angle of the broken bed to help me roll out from under him, as he’d rolled more toward the floor and less onto me. He just looked at me, not knowing what I was doing. Then I jumped up, ran to the window, opened it, and dove out.”

  “I’m glad you got away in time. Damn glad.”

  “Me, too. I hit the ground hard, dislocated my shoulder. It was muddy, and I was barefoot, but I got up and ran for my life. Knew I had to get as far away from them as possible, and that they’d come after me.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Not sure how many streets I ran down. I was on high adrenaline and running as hard as I could. But about the time I was running out of wind and energy, slowing down, a patrol car drove down the street. The cop saw me and pulled over.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “Officer Miller took one look at me and said if I’d get in the car he’d take me to a safe place and get me some help.”

  “I’m glad he saw you and stopped,” he said, his voice a little raspy.

  “Yeah. I must’ve looked pretty bad. I was wearing a white lace bra, and it had bloodstains on it. Nothing on my feet and a short skirt with no panties on underneath. And it was cold out, just starting to snow.”

  “He saw your bare feet and bloody bra and knew something was wrong. Did you charge Ice with attempted rape?”

  Red’s jaw sawed shut. “Nooo. I did not. I just wanted to get away and be safe.”

  “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Me, too.”

  Timbers was easy to talk to, but she was all talked out. This was the most talking she’d done about the event, since the night it had happened and she’d told Officer Miller.

  She tilted her head and looked at Timbers. The men with the Protectors were all different, but there was something about him that reminded her of Officer Miller. She smiled at the memory of Officer Miller’s kindness. “Officer Miller called me Red. That’s how I got my nickname. I had long red hair, all the way down my back.”

  Timbers gave her a glance and a smile. “The new haircut and the new name suit you.”

  “Thanks. I think so, too. All that hair was heavy and hot in the summer.”

  “Sketch me an image of the MC’s patch, and I’ll make sure all the Protectors see it,” he said. “We’ll keep an eye out.”

  “The counselors all swore he’d never find me out here.”

  “Likely, they’re right. But do it anyway. Planning for the worst, and then preparing for it, is what guys like us do best.”

  “Okay, yeah.” She nodded. “I can do that. You got paper and a pen?”

  “Back seat, under my backpack, there’s a spiral notebook. There are pens in the glove box.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. You know where everything is. Most guys aren’t that organized.”

  “Best way to find something fast is to know right where to get it. Always good to be ready.”

  Red started to relax even more in Timbers’ company. It had been a very long time since she’d relaxed this much with anyone. It was a feeling she’d forgotten.

  Timbers was all right. He was really easy to talk to. She wouldn’t mind getting to know him. “Hey, why do they call you Timbers?”

  “Spent the year after I graduated college as a lumberjack up in Canada.”

  “That makes sense. Then you went into the marines?”

  “Yeah. I was already in great shape, knew how to hunt and fish. But they still had to make me into a marine.”

  “I like what they made you into,” she said softly, a little embarrassed that she’d said it out loud. However, the more she was around him, the more she liked him. It also didn’t hurt that he was hot. Not that she was looking or anything.

  He smiled. “I like you, too. I’m enjoying getting to know you better.”

  She smiled and bent her head to focus on drawing the image of the MC patch he’d asked for.

  Chapter 7

  At the tattoo parlor, Timbers checked the perimeter then escorted her in. With her drawing of the MC’s patch folded in his pocket, he was ready to show the guys, but as of right now, he was the only one who knew to watch for them. Despite what the counselors had told Red, there was always a chance this guy would find her.

  Property of. Some guys took that kind of shit seriously. And it all boiled down to how bad Z wanted her back.

  Timbers was taking no chances.

  Z could put other clubs onto finding Red if he wanted her bad enough. It might be hard to tell which clubs were l
ooking.

  Before she sat down in the chair, she unfastened her pants and dropped them. Timbers drank in the sight of her standing in a loose t-shirt and black bikini panties. The tattoo was in black against her left hip.

  The tattoo artist said, “This one is gonna hurt.”

  “Dead would hurt a whole lot worse,” she said, her voice even.

  Timbers could have corrected her. There were things that hurt a whole lot worse than death. Especially if Z got hold of her again and wanted to torture her, to cause pain. He sounded like the kind of guy who would.

  Watching her, Timbers tried to stay professional and not get aroused by the sight of her, but the actions of dropping her pants and then bending to step out of them, leaving her in nothing but little black panties covering that round ass, and those long legs that could wrap around a man had him rock hard. He shifted and tried to get his mind on something other than sliding those panties off and sliding into her.

  Hell. I’m supposed to be her protector, not be distracted by thoughts of fucking her.

  He walked to the front door to keep watch and redirected his thoughts to Z and the gang, running through possible scenarios in the event any of them showed up. Seeing no sign of a threat, he removed the paper she’d drawn on. He strode to a counter, unfolded the picture and pressed it out flat. Then, using his phone, he took a picture of it.

  Technology was great. He’d have this to all the guys in a matter of minutes.

  An hour into the tattoo, the artist stopped and peered closely at Red. “Do you need a break?”

  “No, don’t stop. Keep going.”

  The artist reached behind him, and then handed her a cherry lollipop with a chocolate chewy center. “Here.”

  “What’s this for?”

  “Suck on it. It’ll put sugar in your system. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  “I wasn’t,” she bit out, her chin rising.

  The artist raised an eyebrow. “Your eyes rolled back in your head, I could see it in the mirror. That’s why I stopped.”

  “I’m fine. Can we just get on with it?”

  “Sure.”

  She closed her pretty green eyes, wrapped her mouth around that lollipop and the artist started again.

  Badass. That’s what she is. With a high tolerance for pain. Maybe she likes it. Some women did. Which type is she? The kind who toughs it out to prove herself, or the kind who gets off on it? Lots of bikers and their women are into S&M.

  Timbers moved toward the front windows again, away form the sight of her sucking on that lollipop with her eyes closed and looked out. Just the normal traffic on the street, no motorcycles or cars full of men headed toward the shop.

  * * *

  Hours later, when Red looked down at the finished tattoo, the black Z was now the body of a phoenix-like creature, rising out of the ocean, its body black and rising, behind it a red and gold fire masking “Property of” in such a skillful way the original tattoo was gone.

  Thank God it’s gone. Gone forever.

  Z had pushed her into the tattoo one night when they’d been drinking, and she’d immediately regretted it the morning after. The tattoo was way worse than her worst hangover, because it was permanent, on her skin, and she couldn’t just wash it off.

  Once her perfect pale skin was marred, he’d gloated over it. Talked about how she was his. At first, she’d enjoyed him claiming her, as it kept the other men from touching her without Z’s permission. No one would flirt or so much as touch her arm. It was hands-off, and all the men respected him, and by association with him, her.

  But then Z had started riding her hard when they had sex, and hard turned into rough. They’d stopped making love and just fucked. He became a different man, and having marked her as his, seemed to think he could do whatever he wanted with her.

  I am free of Z. Finally, free.

  This was the last step of freedom for her and she felt as if she could fly. The pain of the tattoo would fade just as her past would. She was rising like the phoenix, everything new.

  * * *

  On the way back to the lodge, Timbers glanced at Red sitting beside him as she laid the seat back and rested instead of watching the scenery. Her pants weren’t fully closed, so there’d be no pressure on the new ink. The artist had taken several hours to finish, and she appeared to be worn out now that the car was moving and her initial excitement over the new tattoo had faded.

  “We won’t make it back in time for dinner,” Timbers said. “We should stop for dinner and get some food into you.”

  “That sounds good.”

  Her tired voice made him wonder if she’d overdone it, and whether she was hurting.

  “Mexican?”

  “Anything.”

  “All right. I know a good place.” He picked up his cell phone and called the office. “Timbers here. Appointment took longer than expected. We’re gonna stop for a bite to eat on the way back.” He listened, and then said. “Roger that. Out.”

  “Were you talking to Cecelia?”

  “No. Our office.”

  “I thought it was Cecelia. She keeps tabs on where everyone is at all times. You can’t so much as sneak a cookie from the kitchen without her hearing you.”

  “Doesn’t sound as if you like that much.”

  “I don’t, but I do like Cecelia.”

  “She’s perfect in that job.”

  “Yes, she really is. She’s amazing.”

  “So are you.”

  “Me?” She wrinkled her nose. “Naw.”

  “What you did, getting away from the gang, not every woman could’ve done that.”

  “They’d do it if they wanted to live. I don’t understand the women who don’t. It’s like they want to be victims. Look at Chyna. She’ll all, ‘I can’t, I can’t’. Then of course she can’t ’cause that’s how she thinks.”

  “They freeze, Red. It’s a reaction, not a conscious choice. Don’t be too hard on Chyna and the others. If they know they freeze, it adds to their fear and makes them think they can’t. But we can train them out of that reaction. The other women are working just as hard, but in different ways than you.”

  “I can’t afford to be afraid. That’s my ‘can’t’. If I freeze, I’m dead.”

  “Depending on the situation, they are, too.”

  Thinking that over, she looked out the window for a while, and then turned back. “I’d hate that for any of them.”

  “Me, too,” he said, nodding, glad she was empathizing with the other women. “That’s why we’re training you. So you can fight and live.”

  “Yeah. Fight and live. That needs to be my new mantra.”

  “What was your old one?”

  She drew a deep breath. “It was, ‘I will be free of Z.’ Today, I’m finally free. So, I don’t need that mantra anymore. And I’m ready to celebrate.”

  He pulled the car into a parking spot next to Casa de Miguel, which didn’t look busy.

  “This is a good place?” she asked, leaning forward to look at the restaurant through the windshield.

  “Yes, I’ve eaten here several times. Hank recommended it.”

  “Okay. I hope they have good margaritas.”

  “They do.”

  * * *

  Red didn’t tell him the ranch was alcohol-free, and that they weren’t to bring alcohol in. No one had really said they couldn’t drink alcohol off the ranch. Maybe their rules were because of all the alcoholics that likely came through the center. But just in case there was a rule about off-site drinking, she wasn’t going to mention it.

  I’ll just have one margarita to celebrate. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today, I’m finally free.

  Inside, they were seated next to a waterfall on the wall, and the plants and brightly painted designs behind it were beautiful. She’d never have guessed the restaurant was so nice from the outside. Sitting here with Timbers, it almost felt like a date. Except that she wasn’t dating. Not ever again. She was don
e with men.

  The waiter came over to the table. “Good evening. What would you like to drink?”

  “I’d like a margarita,” she said.

  The waiter glanced at Timbers. “We have pitchers, señor. If you’re ordering one, it’s a better deal.”

  Timbers shook his head. “None for me. I’m driving. I’ll take tea, unsweetened.”

  “Yes, sir.” The waiter turned back to Red. “One margarita. Regular or strawberry?”

  “Strawberry…? I’ve never had a strawberry margarita. I’ll have one of those.”

  “Very good,” the waiter said.

  He returned with her drink and Timbers’ tea, and after they’d both ordered fajitas, and the waiter walked away again, she raised her glass for a toast. “To a new life,” she said.

  Timbers raised his glass and clinked it against hers. “To new beginnings.”

  Three margaritas later, Timbers convinced her she didn’t need another, and it was time to leave. She wavered a bit on the way to the car, so he put his arm around her.

  Red leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. She’d missed closeness. This was nice.

  He helped her into the car and she leaned back on the seat again. Full belly, warm buzz, and the tattoo wasn’t hurting any more. She pulled down her pants to look at it again.

  Timbers glanced over at her as he eased the car out of the parking lot. “Still sore?”

  “Not ’til I touched it. I’m feeling pretty good.”

  “Good. Leave them down if that feels better. No one can see in, and even if they could, it’s dark.”

  Watching him, her eyes moved to his lips, and she wondered what they would feel like if he kissed her.

  Oh yeah, I’ll leave them down. That feels better. Thoughts of him kissing her all the way from her lips to her pussy filled her head, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the fantasy. His voice and his scent filled her senses, and the fantasy made her panties wet.

  * * *

  Timbers watched her sleeping and rolled her last words over in his head. Would feel even better if you’d come over here and kiss me. So, she wanted me to kiss her. Before she fell asleep, she’d slurred the words, and then a dreamy smile came over her face. Not long after, she snored.