Page 22 of Savage Brothers MC: Tennessee Chapter

“I said, she wasn’t married to a real person.Torrent… she’s not what you’re thinking.”

“What is she?Christ, is she one of those people who marry Barbie dolls?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”I ask Diesel, wondering if he’s drunk.I didn’t smell it on him that bad, but I’m kind of hammered myself, so who knows.

“She is… well she was… pledged, kind of…”

“Pledged?Did we go back in time to poodle skirts and fucking promise rings?What in the hell does pledged mean?”

“She’s a nun.”

“Get out of town,” he says, his voice full of disbelief.

“Let it go,” I growl.

“Shit man, you aim high, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” I mumble.

“You got to get her out of your head.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” I answer, holding up my liquor bottle and shaking it at him.

“What if I send you on an errand?”

“Why?”

“Skull is calling in another marker.Wants us to check on his boy.”

“What did Sunshine do now?”

“You willing to go see him?”Diesel asks and I frown.If I leave, there’s no chance of seeing Torrent again, but hell, there’s no sign of her and even if I did… she’s not mine.

She’s never going to be mine.

If the last month has made anything clear, it’s that.

“Yeah.Screw it.I’ll head out in the morning.”

Chapter14

Torrent

I lookaround the small room, for the one hundredth millionth time.Nothing has changed.It’s still nothing but a 4’ x 6’ box—if that.The floor I’m sitting on is rough lumber.I try not to move a lot, because if I do so I’ve learned I get splinters and in places I truly don’t want them.There’s a little light filtering in from the top of the box.It’s coming in through the hole between the jagged wooden planks.

I moan as I move, my body sore from staying in basically the same position for a month and other things.When I first came to, after being unconscious, I panicked.Anyone would have, but it was worse for me because I’m afraid of small enclosed places.So when I say I panicked, I mean I freaked-the-fuck-out.So much so that they opened the top of my“crate”and when I lunged at them, they beat me back down—first with fists and then with a crowbar.I’m pretty sure I have a broken arm.I know my eye is swollen shut and infected—if the burning sensation I feel is anything to go by.It hurts to breathe so I’m not entirely sure what shape my ribs are in.

I’ve also lost track of how long I’ve been here.Everything is a blur from the moment I stepped outside the convent.I tried to keep count at first.Trying to judge the shift from day into night by the actions of people outside and how many meals they brought me.I think they bring one meal a day and it’s usually toward the evening.I know it’s evening when they feed me because there’s a skylight above me and when they take the top off, it’s the first thing I see.

The light hurts my eyes when they take the top off—a product of staying here in the dark for so long.I smell.There’s no way to get around it.There’s been no bathing, no personal hygiene concerns at all.There’s only me… my wooden prison and small bucket across from me that I’ve been forced to use as a toilet.It stinks—though thankfully it is emptied once a day.

I’m living like a dog in a pound… probably worse.

I think I have a fever.I can’t be sure.I’m always cold, but today I’m dizzy—even disoriented.I can hear voices around me, but I’m having trouble concentrating on them.I shake my head hoping to focus, but I end up moaning as the room spins harder.

“Sounds like the drugs are working.”

“About time.Jesus, I almost dread pulling her out of there.She smells like shit.”

---