Page 3 of Bones
Chapter Three
Bones (18)
I watch as she remains on the floor, her eyes locked on the ground as if the concrete is mesmerizing. A large part of me wants to yank her up and put her on a chair. Seeing her kneel on the floor like a dog begging for food, makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. I can see the other guys are struggling with it too.
I can only imagine what this girl has been through in her short life. It’s hard to tell her exact age due to her small size, emaciation, and malnutrition, but my guess is twelve to thirteen. She’s young, too young to have gone through any of this.
I don’t want to push her too far too fast, but I need to get food into her. I know she must be starving based solely on how much the other girls have eaten. I fix a plate for her and lower myself to the ground where I put the plate in front of her and begin eating my food next to her on the floor. I don’t acknowledge her or say anything, just eat on the floor like this is a normal occurrence. When she remains unmoving I simple say, “Eat.”
It isn’t until I’ve given her the approval that she moves to pick up the fork and starts shovelin’ food in like she’s being timed. I close my eyes for a moment as pain radiates through my chest. Not wantin’ to discourage her in any way, I continue eating as well. Once she’s done, she gently lowers the plate to the floor placing her fork on top before she slowly stands and to my utter shock starts clearing the empty plates before bringin’ them to the sink to wash them.
“No…” My voice rumbles as my anger bleeds into that one word. She freezes, her body tensing, bracing. “You don’t need to do that, sweetheart.” The endearment slips out in my attempt to comfort her. “Please don’t. We don’t want or need anything from you.” I tell her gently as I grab the plate, she’s currently got a death grip on and lower it back into the sink. I can hear her breathing pick up as she starts to panic, her eyes still not meeting mine.
“I’m sorry,” she speaks, her head remaining bowed before she turns toward me as if waiting for something. I run my hands over her arms softly, trying to offer her anything I can. I know I’m fuckin’ this up. I’ve never had to comfort someone other than my mama. I take a deep breath as I try to remember what helped her in the end. I run my hand gently over her hair, sweeping it back away from her face. It’s dirty and clearly falling out from malnutrition. I’m not even sure how she’s still standing to be honest, her skinny legs don’t look like they could support any actual weight.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I say softly, leaning down so I’m in her line of sight, willin’ her to see the sincerity in my words. “You are free now…” I say, fading off, realizing I don’t even know her name.
She swallows hard as her eyes barely lift, still making sure not to meet mine. “Bethany.” She finishes for me.
“You’re free now, Bethany. I swear to you, we won’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I cup her chin, encouraging her to meet my eyes. I’m not sure why I said the last part, other than a deep sense of protectiveness.
I study those mosey green eyes that seem so lost and dull. Her body starts to tremble. Unable to help myself, I pull her tiny frame into my chest, careful not to hold her too tight, scared I’d hurt her. She doesn’t cry or break down like I expect. She continues to shake, her arms at her sides, not accepting my embrace but not moving away either. I don’t know how to fix this? How to make her comfortable enough to know that we truly mean what we say? Time is the only thing I can think of that will help that, time to prove ourselves and our actions. But I already know deep down she won’t give us that. The deep-rooted sorrow and pain that clings to her like a shadow is all the proof I need to know this girl has been through immense, mind-altering trauma. Trauma that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Shit, I’m not even sure time can even heal it.
We stay like that for what seems like an eternity but is probably only a few minutes before her body slowly stops shaking. She pulls back, the same emptiness painting her face, but at least now she doesn’t look like she expects me to beat the shit out of her. I wish I could take even just a drop of the pain this poor girl has endured from her. Anything to help carry some of the burden that’s been weighin’ her down for God knows how fucking long.
“May I shower?” she whispers, her head bowed like she’s ready for a blow just for asking. Honestly, I’m surprised she even asked. She may be terrified but she’s so. Fucking. Brave. She doesn’t even know it.
“Of course. Elana will show you where her bathroom is. She has all that girly shit.” I shrug over to Elana and for the first time I think I see a hint of a smirk rise to Bethany’s face. It’s gone in a blink, but even just the shadow of a smile makes me happy. That I could give her just a fleeting hint of relief soothes somethin’ in my soul.
“Absolutely,” Elana says, a genuine smile on her face as she slowly reaches for Beth’s hand. My eyes widen in surprise when she stares at it for a moment before hesitantly accepting it. I watch as her shoulders shift back like she’s bolstering herself and once again I’m awestruck by her strength.
“I hope one day you’ll feel safe enough to open up to me,” I say gently, leaning in so only she can hear, before she has a chance to turn. Her eyes flick to mine and I know my eyes have a hopeful look in them as I watch her turn to leave.
“Me too…” She replies, her voice so quiet I almost miss it. She leaves, following behind Elana to her bathroom. The other girls who have finished up eating, follow along too. All wanting to bathe and rest.
I remain standing there at the sink before a large firm hand grips my shoulder. I glance over to see my father standin’ slightly behind me to my left. “Don’t get too attached. A girl like that can’t be fixed.” He grunts. Shaking his head as if he knows from experience. I raise a brow questioningly at him. We don’t talk about mom, not since she died, so, I don’t know about all the history they shared. He was never forthcomin’ even before she died. We don’t really have that kind of relationship. He’s my Ol’ man and I love him, and as a member of the Heathen’s I’d take a bullet for him, but we aren’t exactly your average suburban neighborhood family with the white picket fence and a dog named Fido.
“I ain’t. Just hoping to help.” I say vaguely, not wanting to open up and tell him that a part of me feels connected to her. I know she’s young as fuck, and I sure as shit ain’t into any of that, but I can’t help the protectiveness I feel. I just wanna help her. She doesn’t deserve the shit life has handed to her, no one does.
Dad makes a noncommittal huff like he doesn’t believe me, before he turns and starts washin’ the dishes himself. I turn to, and help him dry.
“Church in ten!” Gage barks, standin’ from his seat at one of the kitchen tables before lighten’ up a cigarette and headin’ off to his office. As a prospect, I ain’t allowed to attend church. It used to piss me off bein’ left out of the loop, but I’ve come to accept it. It’s just the way things are. I’ll have a place at that table soon enough, I’ll earn my damn patch; just like my dad and his dad before him. It’s in the McGregor blood. We may have Irish roots, but we bleed Heathens red and gray.
Once we’ve finished up, dad takes off, headin’ to church while I head out back to take a lap. I need to walk off some of this anger and frustration. I don’t want to freak out any of the girls, well, more than I already have at least. Jesus Christ you’d think I’d never spoken to a woman before. The thought is almost comical, with how much sweet-butt pussy I’ve been balls deep in since before I even pledged. I may only be eighteen but that doesn’t mean shit when you’ve been raised in the club. Dad never gave a fuck who I was fuckin’ as long as I wrapped it up. It was mom who didn’t want this life for me, wanted me to settle down with a nice girl and have two in’a half kids and the picket fence.
I take a deep breath, slowly releasing it as I walk farther down the property we call our compound. I wonder what mom would have done in this situation? Seein’ the girls like that would have killed her all over again. I run my hands over my messy hair, she would’a been the first one to drag them into a hug and make sure they were all okay, mother hen’d them all. I chuckle softly. She had the biggest heart. Dad always used to say that I had her heart, that I needed to toughen up or I’d end up too soft to make it as a Heathen.
After walkin’ around for a good twenty minutes, I finally make my way back toward the clubhouse. My eyes raise as I reach the concrete pad just outside the back door and what I see stops me dead in my tacks. It’s Beth. Her arms wrapped tightly around her own body as her eyes stay locked on the woods lost in thought as she’s tries to calculate the best route for escape. I watch her for a moment, waiting to see what she does. Will she run? I couldn’t say I’d blame her if she did, but I hope she doesn’t. There’s somethin’ about this lost little girl that makes me want to protect her. Call it fate, or maybe dad was right and it’s just my soft heart, but I know I can’t let anything else happen to this girl.
I watch as her eyes slowly drop closed, a single tear dripping down her cheek before she quickly wipes it away before turning around and heading back inside, not realizing I was watching her.
I pick up my pace and follow in behind her. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll make sure she doesn’t feel this type of pain again.
Chapter Four
Beth
I want to run; all my instincts are telling me to run, to use this opportunity that I may never get again. I honestly thought I’d lost my fight or flight instinct years ago, to broken to even trigger a response. Taken from me along with my hope, but as I stood there at the edge of the patio, the need to run practically rocking my body forward, trying to force my feet to move. It was only the knowledge that I’d be punished that kept my feet planted. I don’t know the extent these guys will go to garner obedience from their girls. Without the rules and boundaries set, I didn’t want to risk the repercussions of being caught. Because I am under no illusion that I wouldn’t be caught, I’m still too weak to make it far.
