"What the fuck!" She left the bed mumbling. "You said you were going to do me this morning."
I snorted, slipping into my pants. Do her nasty snatch? I'd seen her fucking several brothers before she’d come with me to my room. I’d gotten what I'd wanted. "Why would I do you when I can have this fresh little virgin?" I zipped up my pants, but left the snap undone.
The whore, who'd been in the process of searching for the only piece of clothing she'd been wearing the night before--a thong--stopped to look up. Her gaze ran over Ginger with disdain. She half laughed, half snorted. "I was her once. Wildman's initiation, right?" She giggled like a mad woman, finally locating her thong. "He makes all his men do it." She walked around the bed and stopped in front of Ginger. "A word of advice, honey: when it's over, you'll be given a choice--become a club whore, or go home." She snorted before continuing. "It’s a stupid choice. They want you to say that you want to go home so they have a reason to pull a train on you and then kill you."
They could do that anyway, I thought.
She left my room stark naked. Ginger's gaze came back to me, and I could see the horror in her eyes. I had no doubt that what the whore had said was true.
"What is a train?"
Her innocence was starting to piss me off. She shouldn't be there. She shouldn't have put herself in a situation where she could be snatched up off the street. Christ, she wasn't a kid. She should have been protecting herself better. As far as I was concerned, it was her fault that she was in this mess. "A train is where all the men in the club line up and take turns fucking you." With each word, her eyes grew bigger.
"All of them?"
I could see her mind working as if she was trying to figure out how many men that might be. She wouldn't survive it. There were too many of them, and they were ruthless, cruel bastards. She'd be ripped apart and would probably die on the table. Jesus, this whole fucking mess was starting to get to me. I was in a one percent MC, and we did shit for the club in order to survive and to take care of our families. We didn't involve innocents or civilians just for the thrill of it. This whole club, and everyone in it, needed to die.
When I saw tears fill her blue eyes, I lost patience. "For fuck’s sake, don't start crying! It won't solve anything." I knew I was being insensitive, but if she was going to survive this she needed to suck it up, and I didn't know how she was going to do that if I coddled her. It was a fact that anger had a way of turning weakness into strength, frustration into determination, and fear into perseverance.
I knew what I had to do, and by the time I was done with little miss innocent Ginger she was going to hate me enough to survive.