Free Burn by R.J. Lewis Page A

socks. I really should have let him dress properly. Oh, what a needy wench I’ve become.
                  “You are too,” I whispered.
                  There were bruises all over his tattooed chest and stomach, and splatters of blood around his elbows and arms. Not his blood, Sara.
                  “This is nothin’, Birdy.”
                  He backed away and shut the door, walking over to the driver’s side. When he got in, he turned on the heater and started the car. A few seconds later we were driving… and I knew exactly where we were headed.
    *****
    Of course I’d never been inside the clubhouse. Growing up, kids would talk about it in whispers, making up horror stories that had me looking at the black building as if it was a haunted mansion.
                  “Once you’re in, you’ll never come out,” they’d say.
                  My wild imagination conjured up all kinds of scary scenes in my head. I thought of ghosts and monsters and victims screaming in agony, bound and tortured. Yeah, I was a pretty disturbed kid. It’s just the MC never stood for anything good. They were a symbol of fear and power. Not even the police fucked with them. Gosnells was like the Wild West, except our cowboys were bikies with a really nasty temper.
                  Then after the night at the swings with Remy, I’d become intrigued. You could only see the structure of the building when you were at the gates. Anywhere else and it was a ten foot tall wall staring back at you. Sometimes I’d stand just far enough, in the middle of the road and make out the rooftop. The silence in the middle of the road surrounding that area was ominous, further impressing my curiosity.
                  And now here we were, at the gates, with a camera staring directly at us. After Remy pressed a button and stared directly into the lens, the gates opened. We hadn’t said a word in forever, and the ride had been forty five minutes of tense silence. I’d looked at him often, seeking some kind of reassurance that everything would be alright. He offered none, and my dependency for him scarily continued to rise. What was my goddamn problem?
                  He parked the car in a parking lot beside the entrance of the clubhouse. Motorcycles were lined up in a neat row beside us along with a few high-end cars. We stepped out of the car and Remy took me by the hand, directing us to the entrance. The physical contact was the first since the bunker, and I felt myself pushing against his side for more of his touch. I had grown incredibly attached to him.
                  In the morning light, he looked worse than I realized. The bruises were massive, decorating his torso in shades of red. One had begun to form beneath his right eye, swelling it noticeably.
                  The entrance required a key card. He must have left it behind because he ended up banging harshly against the door with his fist. It took a few minutes of waiting before it opened. A tall, fat man with long grey-black hair and an equally long grey-black beard appeared, groggy eyed and irritated. The second his eyes fell on Remy, the frown he wore washed away.
                  “The fuck happened to you, Reap?” His voice was unique; the kind of creakiness that reminded me of rusty hinges. “Saw you pressin’ the button on the gate and now you’re standing here looking like a beaten hobo.”
                  “Shit went down bad, Barge. Get the men together now .” Remy’s words brooked no argument. The man immediately hurried away, and we followed inside.
                  I took in the large room as Remy steered me through. There was a massive bar in the corner, stools pushed away – some on their sides – and then a huge lounge area where several large couches sat in front of a massive television screen. There