“What the fuck?” King exclaimed while struggling to hold on to her as she flung her body around. She knew she was acting insane but there wasn’t another option in her mind.
“It’s okay, we got you, beauty,” Bones assured her while moving closer and stroking her arm soothingly. “Come on, Dig. We’ll all go together, sort the bikes later. Let’s get this little lady sorted first.”
Digger pulled his tee from her fist, stroked her knuckles with his thumb and kept hold of her hand. Now she could relax. They were all joined together. After some pretty awkward manoeuvring, they were all sat in the back of a big black truck, headed to – she didn’t know where and at that present moment she didn’t care. She was free.
Digger
Digger had never felt so wound up before. Seeing the desperation in Bianca’s eyes as she gripped his tee, as if her whole world would fall apart if he wasn’t with her had changed something profound in him. All of his life people had backed away from him. He knew he was intimidating and thrived on it. That shit kept him and those he treasured safe. The only two people who were never wary around him were King and Bones and up until fifteen minutes ago they were his entire life. Now, there was a third and she clung to his hand for grim death.
Bianca saw him as safety. She needed and wanted him to protect her. That affected his heart more than he ever thought it could. No one had ever looked to him for that before. He was a fighter, pure and simple. King and Bones could handle any fucker in their way and they all had each other’s backs, but Bianca couldn’t defend herself or fight. To be wholly responsible for someone’s well-being made his inner caveman sit up and take notice. Seeing the most beautiful woman beaten, filthy and starving sent fire through his veins. He’d done plenty of fucked up shit in his time but to do this to a woman took a special kind of sick and twisted.
Glancing over at King and Bones, he could tell they were having similar thoughts. A different kind of fire burned in all their eyes. They didn’t know her story yet but once they did they’d be raining hell down on whoever did this to her. First though, they needed her home, cleaned up and comfortable.
Bianca probably thought Prez was a dick. His harsh command to abandon her alarmed and terrified her. She didn’t know his position or have any context on what that means. Prez’s unspoken order was to find out about her shit and be sure they wanted to be a part of it before they get the rest of the club involved. The brothers always had plenty of shit to deal with and we had to be sure of her before we added to it. That was fair enough, Prez was just looking out for his brothers and them. Yet, he knew down to his very core that this woman was their fourth, the final point on their compass.
Bianca
Bianca was only half awake when the truck pulled over in front of a small, detached town house. It was well kept, but plain compared to the houses near it. They had gardens, fences, hedges and flowers decorating them, whereas the one they pulled up at was stark in contrast. The front garden had been torn up and replaced with paving that was oil stained and scuffed. There was nothing there that didn’t have to be. It was the epitome of low maintenance. It was definitely a man’s house.
Her body felt heavy. All the adrenalin from her rescue had dissipated, leaving her feeling utterly weak and lethargic. Still secure in King’s arms, they Climbed out of the truck. A slight breeze blew around them and her nose scrunched up at a foul smell, it only took a few mortifying seconds to realise it was coming from her. She felt her face flush as she eyed the men to see if they’d noticed. If they had they thankfully weren’t letting on or obviously repulsed by it. The urge to scrub every inch of her skin raw was a need she couldn’t ignore for much longer.
She couldn’t recall the last time she’d properly bathed. Occasionally she would save up bits of the bottled water they gave her and did what she could with it, but it was never much. A part of her used to hope that being dirty would keep the bastards away from her but she guessed hygiene wasn’t high on their lists of must-haves when they were abusing someone.
Inside the house was pretty bare. She could only see large pieces of leather furniture and plenty of ‘guy’ electronics from her vantage point. The walls were bare and there was no lamps or homey touches like cushions or rugs. It didn’t seem all that lived in.