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39.13% The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club / Chapter 9: Beggar

บท 9: Beggar

The sight before me makes me a little nervous.

How is it that I failed to notice he was so strong?

“I need to talk to the homeless bitch.”

My chin shoots up, over Storm’s shoulder and I stare smack into the face of the man that calls himself Zero. His words are meant to hurt and maybe at one time I would have felt something, but I lived too long, seen too much while surviving on scraps to let that word bother me.

It only reinforces my decision to start fresh, Storm promised to help me. I’ll hold him up to that, but even if he doesn't, I’ll help myself, I always have.

Zero doesn't acknowledge me. His green deep-set eyes are too focused on his brother.

The three-inch scar just under his left one makes it smaller.

If he wasn't such an asshole, I’ll say he was what wild women called sexy in a bad and very dangerous way, he is however definitely not cute.

But I think the fucker is too hardcore for the sweet Falon.

He needs one of those muscle women I see leave the gym downtown.

He scares the crap out of me, and I've lived on the street.

I've faced off with evil but there is something in this man, something dark that has been leashed waiting to come out.

I pity Falon.

He doesn't look at me at all. On the streets that would mean that the man got all mouth and no balls. The smile plays on my lips at the thought. But quickly dies a dry and painful death when he does and I gulp.

“We need to talk about what happened today.”

Storm moves a step to the side to block me again, he’s taller than Zero so it's an easy move.

“You can talk with her once we in Kanla, with me there. She’s under my protection brother. Why don't you go calm down and take care of your woman!”

“That shit isn't fuckin’ happenin’, something went down tonight. I wanna know what it is.”

I mumble behind Storm’s back. He twists his body to face me, his eyes softening.

“What did you say, baby girl?”

I shoot a quick glance at Zero, who is staring blatantly at my long hair, and swallow hard. Yes, fucker, look, I’m a beggar with long hair,

“I said, I want my pudding then I’ll talk.” Some of the tension eases out of Storm.

And Zero seems to relax somewhat.

“Can't, Venus ate it.”

I go to close the door and Storm moves out of the way at the same time Zero’s hand snaps out to block my movement.

“Give me ten and I’ll get you another one.”

I clear my throat, “Make it two, and you got a deal.”

Surprise flickers in his eyes but his grim face quickly comes back into place making the scar foreboding.

I really want that pudding, so if I got to tell the scary man what happened to Falon to get it, I'm all for that.

“And hot chocolate.”

He shakes his head, “Hot chocolate tomorrow and pudding today.” I feel the vibration of Storm’s laughter behind me. But watching Zero’s hard face set on his decision, my shoulders drop. I really wished I’d thought of the hot chocolate first.

He mumbles something about bargaining but thankfully leaves the room and I shut the door wondering whether I’m going to get anything, even the pudding will do.

Storm is silent behind me. I turn to him and look up to his knowing eyes. He swallows, face full of pity.

There was a time where I wanted pity, I was sixteen and trying to get a job.

I finally got my pity in the form of a monster and the only pity he felt for me was reminding me of how I’ll always be a filthy homeless beggar. How I’ll always take the scraps of what people will give me. How the only pity I’ll ever get was from the mercy he’d show me, none.

“I said, scream beggar. SCREAM LOUDER!” His words yell in my head. I grip my temples, it's so loud.

No, not now please, not now,

“You filthy Beggar, SCREAM.”

I freak out at the sound of his voice and push Storm back against the wall.

My throat constricts. I can't breathe. Invisible fingers are squeezing my neck.

I hear Storm in the background, but I don't pay him any attention as I pull the door open.

Then I'm kicking it, down the narrow corridor.

I need air.

I need to feel the open space against my skin.

I need to know I'm alive, I'm free.

I can't stand pity, he pitied me, that monster.

For two days, he surely fucking pitied me.

He also showed me his pity for hours at a torturous time.

My throat is burning, my air constricting.

Storm thinks he knows me, he thinks because we've talked that he understands me. He’ll never come close to feeling like me when people like him have never known a day of hunger.

Never known the lengths a 16-year-old pregnant homeless beggar would go, to put food in her belly to feed her unborn child.

Storm’s yells do nothing to help me keep those memories from attacking me.

Only my name, only one name would help me now.

And I never told him my name, I never told any of them who I am.

There's no changing that now.

The darkness of my mind is taking over, my nightmare a living reality.

The only thing I can do is let it happen, relive that which has haunted me, see his face, smell the breath I wish was retched, and feel those fingers squeezing my throat until it constricts until my vision blurs as he rapes me, over and over,

“Scream Beggar, SCREAM.”

We all have our nightmares, some smaller than others, but nightmares all the same. I just wish mine didn't feel so real.

A normal girl, someone like Falon, would've stopped to think before they ran out in a man’s t-shirt and nothing else.

I'm not normal. I wished to be a normal girl, but beggars, we never get that choice.

My bare feet clap against the gravel road, the loose stones poking my hardened heels. I'm not supposed to go far, I know this, but I just keep going, I can't stop.

A chrome of metal stops in front of me, no light warning me, or maybe I run into it, I'm not sure. I stumble and fall flat on my butt, my ass cheeks get poked and bruised.

But it's a small pinch to what's happened to it before.

My breathing is heavy.

The rise and fall of my chest visible as bright lights point straight at me. My nakedness clear to see.

Instinct kicking in, I close my legs and shield my eyes with my free hand and slowly stand up.

“Wanna go for a ride?” The deep tenor voice breaks through my ears. Breaks through it all with just that demanding tone.

His words penetrating through the fog of my mind.

I can't look at him without getting blinded by his lights so I take a step to the side, out of the spotlight.

I should say no, and go back to Storm’s room.

“Yeah,” I agree too quickly.

Why?! I'm not sure, maybe it's because the way he asked me wasn't really a question but more of a ‘you coming for a ride.’ Or maybe it's the fact that I'm so scared of him that I don't think it's a good idea to say no to a big broody biker that can snap me in half without much effort.

I just know I'm going for a ride with this green-eyed man.

I stand there without moving, aware of the dirt stuck on the cheeks of my ass and small stones still embedded on my palms. I don't dust it off, I'm too stunned to do anything by what this man had just done.

“I don't got all day.” He drawls the words out, rolling it over his tongue.

Something peeks out between his teeth. I think it's one of those tongue piercings. I walk closer to him, mindful that Storm isn't chasing after me anymore.

“I don't got any panties,” I shoot back.

He’s quiet and so still and I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't have said that. But he throws his head back and laughs, his face transforms as it crinkles around his eyes and pulls around his cheeks. The man has a really nice laugh.


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