Page 1 of Wire
CHAPTERONE
Wire
I can feel the rope around my wrists as I’m hanging from the ceiling. The rope is starting to burn into the sensitive skin of my wrists, the blood running down my arms like small rivers. No matter how much I try to loosen the rope, it just gets tighter and burns further into my skin.
Hands move across my chest, down my side, and onto my back.
“You really are a fine specimen of a man,” a deep voice says.
I struggle to open my eyes to see who the voice belongs to. The sweat from my forehead runs into my eyes, making me close them again.
“You Sons think you’re so badass, untouchable. Well, I proved you’re not. No one is untouchable.”
I feel hands on me again, and I try to move away.
“Aw, you’re going nowhere. I’m going to make you suffer,” he cackles.
Jesus’ fuck, this dude is loopy.
“Get the fuck off me,” I growl at him.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands now, are you?”
I clear my mind and assess the situation I’m in. Figuring out I’m hung here naked.
“You seem close with the club princess. She was such fun to play with.”
What the fuck!
How is this connected to Carrie being taken?
Hands touch me again, and I jolt against them.
“So responsive. Just like her.”
I can hear the pleasure in his voice.
I wake in bed, drenched in sweat and my heart pounding. The dreams are getting more and more vivid. It feels as if I’m back in that room. I can still feel their hands all over me as if they are touching me. My stomach starts to swirl, causing me to leap from my bed and just make it to the toilet before I empty what little food is in my stomach. After what feels like an eternity, I rest my head again on the cool porcelain. This is becoming a regular thing now. I feel pathetic and weak. I hate feeling weak, never felt like this before, and I have no idea how to handle it. It’s a never-ending spiral down into the dark, twisted memories.
Slowly peeling myself from the floor, I stumble like a newborn foal toward the shower, turning it on as hot as possible. I remove my sweat-soaked shorts, throwing them in the laundry basket. I step into the shower and let the hot water run over me, washing the dirt, grime, and memories down the drain. I just stand there as the tears start, letting them mix with the water, washing away. I honestly do not know how much longer I can carry on like this.
I don’t want the filth or dirt that is under my skin to cover my brothers or the ol’ ladies. The tears come harder at the thought of them looking at me with disgust if they knew the truth. I couldn’t handle losing the club like that. I’d rather take myself out than see them remove my cut from me.
Grabbing the loofah, I soap it up and start to scrub my skin. It’s already raw from yesterday when I did the same thing. I just don’t feel clean. I keep scrubbing until my skin is bleeding. My legs give way, and I sink to the floor of the shower. Curling into a ball, the sobs break free. My body shakes with the force of the sobs. I cannot keep going like this. The filth will slowly seep into the club and bring them down.
I remove myself from the floor of the shower and dry off. Going back into the bedroom, I pull on a pair of boxers and my jeans and grab a t-shirt. Sitting on the bed, I put my socks and boots on. My eyes keep glancing toward my bedside drawer.
I take a deep breath, drop my head into my hands and think it all over. Maybe the club would be better off without me. I’m weak and a liability. I rub the pain in my chest away at the thought of my weakness causing anything for the club. I reach over and open the drawer. There sits my gun.
I pick it up and feel the weight of it in my hands. I could go out into the woods and end it all. I would be at peace then. Nothing would hurt the club either, or no one would ever find out my secret. The more I think about it, the more I realize this is for the best. The way my anger has been recently and my behavior, no one would miss me. I’ve heard them talking about how to deal with me and what to do about my anger. I’ve even heard Joker comment how he was concerned about me being around Beau and Carrie. As if he could ever think I would do anything to hurt them.
If I took myself out, they would be relieved of now having to deal with my moods. The weight of my decision sits heavy in my chest. I’m a coward, but I honestly don’t know how much more I can take of this. Knowing deep down this is the right decision for everyone, I slowly raise the gun and place it at my temple. My finger hovers over the trigger, and I take a deep breath. Just as my finger tightens on the trigger, a knock sounds on my door.
“Wire, you in there?” came Carrie’s soft voice through the door.
Dropping my arm, I take another couple of deep breaths and place the gun back in the drawer, closing it tight.
“Wire?” Her voice is a little more frantic as she knocks again.
