Charged (24 page)

Ryker

A
fter we’d both iced our swollen faces, I grabbed a clean pair of jeans, a tee and socks, walking carefully around the room so I didn’t step in the congealing blood. 

I had offered Georgia the bathroom so she could have a bit of privacy to shower, because I know I’d want to clean off the filth of Jack. I wanted to be in there with her, but she needed time alone to deal with all of it. Instead I cleaned up the bottle shards from the kitchen floor and milled about waiting on her.

Sopping up the wasted liquid made me realize this moment; it was a long time coming. Georgia wasn’t a cause, she was the catalyst, and a necessary piece to my own escape. I knew when we were in the kitchen there was no way we were getting out of this alive. That was, unless I played possum. If I acted aggressive in any way, I knew that Jack would have no need for me, therefore I’d be no help. 

It fucking killed me to watch her strip in the kitchen for him. It pained me to see her led down the hall. I
knew
there’d be a lot of screaming, inhumane pain, and regrets. Lots of regrets. 

I’d regret her being used by that psychopath, the same way I’ve seen and heard him do thousands of times. I’d been subjected, as a weak, scared, kid to his machinations of sexual deviance and I wouldn’t let her be his toy. 

Who makes a twelve-year-old kid watch as you poke hot irons to a woman’s body? Or has the boys in the shop take turns fucking her in the ass while she chokes on Jack’s cock? The screaming and crying for it to stop would ring off the walls, yet Jack just kept right on. He’d tell me to man the fuck up, his cock standing gunstock still with a gleefulness in his eyes. You knew he got off on the pain, and that it wasn’t about the sex; it was all about inflicting.

Year after year I was the voyeur; I was the one watching in the wings. I had no choice, but when I got older, and stronger; tougher, I stood up to him. While it didn’t make him include me anymore, I knew that my own sexuality was tainted by what I’d seen and endured. 

I think that’s part of the reason I get off when it’s rougher. My psyche likes noise, and I can’t stand a quiet fuck. I’m a bit twisted inside and it’s all because of him. I was surprised by Georgia. When I first saw her, I knew she was a spitfire, but I didn’t expect the strength I’ve seen. She may look like a soft shell, but her hard interior is because of guys like her father and Jack. 

After cleaning up the kitchen, covering Jack’s prone body with a blanket and shutting the door, I pulled my truck out of the garage to wait for Georgia to join me outside. It’s quiet out here. I think about everything that’s happened and that
will
happen as the light of dawn starts to creep across the tree line. This is peaceful. 

Hearing the porch door shut, I watch Georgia walk down the stairs to join me. “Thanks for the shower, I needed it.” She looks relaxed; well as relaxed as you can get after an attempted rape. She has on one of my v neck tee’s and it looks God awful sexy, if truth be told. It sits low enough to see the top bow on her bra, right at the center of her cleavage.

Without thought, I walk towards her, the magnetic pull she has on me demanding it. I tower over her small frame and tilt my head down to look her in the eye, the one that’s not swollen and red of course. Raising my hand, I softly touch the puffy skin at her temple, at her cheek, along her jawline, working down to her perfect little lips.  She leans in to my touch relishing the contact. 

“What are you doing to me?” I ask. “It’s criminal how much I want you.” I know my voice is probably husky and deep. It normally is when I’m aroused, and she does that to me easily. 

Removing my hand from her face and interlacing her fingers with mine, Georgia brings it to her mouth, placing soft kisses on the knuckles, one by one. My cock twitches, aroused by her softness. It’s not normal for me to get off on soft. I was taught rough and hard, dirty and deviant — but Georgia makes soft feel good. Looking up at me with a smile in her eyes, I bend down, ravenous for her kiss. She opens up for me, giving all of her in that one moment. I take in her passion like a drug. 

“Come on. Let’s get you back to Creature so you can get going.” Opening the passenger door of the truck for her, she smiles and it lights me up inside.

Hoisting herself up with the use of the handles, I close the door like a gentleman then walk around to the other side and get in. 

Before we leave, I turn to her. “It’ll be ok. I promise. I’ll get you out of here safely.” She nods, smiles weakly, then turns her face to the passenger window, looking out at the trees as we leave the property. 

I’ll have to come back here later to deal with Jack and it won’t be the first time, or the last that I have to bury a body, but it is a first time for me to do it because of my own actions. I’ve never killed someone. Sure hurt, maimed or tortured, but I’ve never taken a life. I didn’t want to cross that line for the mob. I knew, once it was done, it’s hard to come back from. Right now, I’m glad I did. A weight has been lifted, and I’m truly not upset about it. Does that make me a monster just like them, or does it make me happy, because I’m no longer under his rule and scrutiny?

Georgia

R
ounding the outskirts of town, I now see why Ryker said I didn’t really have a choice about staying. Looking out as we travel back to town, I see we’re a good ten miles out. There’s no corner store, no gas station, no coffee shop and no bus stop. We’re so far out that while I joked about Oxford being butt-fuck-nowhere, I was wrong — t
his
is butt-fuck-nowhere. 

We’ve passed trees, bayous full of trees, and oh yeah…trees. The odd driveway we pass I’d say has owners with very few teeth and lacking hygienic regimes. I would have been lost in no time or turned into a skin suit. 

Driving through town, it’s early enough on a Sunday that there isn’t a lick of human activity on the streets. The seats outside Brew are empty, the Starbucks is dead quiet, and the shopping centers looks like a ghost town. My best guess is, being a rural Mississippi town, everyone who’s anyone — not including students, of course — are at church repenting their sins. I’ve got too many. I’d take up the day with a priest, just to get through the first ten years. I’m chalking them up like a running tally. If there was any thought I was going to heaven, then I was sorely mistaken. The pearly gates will be closed. For me, it’ll be a set that are horned and hot when I meet my maker. 

Thinking on it now, would it have been better than dealing with Jack? Probably, yeah, sure — but, I wouldn’t have enjoyed Ryker. The conversations, the copious amounts of alcohol, and of course the cold blooded murder. The world is better off without that piece of shit, and it’s given Ryker a new lease on life. Without Jack, there’s a weight that’s lifted off him — another was pounded onto his shoulders — but I think it’s a lesser evil. 

It’s funny really. I left Florida to get away from trackers, only to break down in Mississippi and be towed to a mafia chop shop. Which happens to be owned by my own sick, twisted father that I’ve been avoiding like the bubonic plague. 

I sit in a truck with Ryker, after being an accessory to murder, I still can’t believe we’re doing this. We’re driving towards the serial assholes, knowingly — all so I can grab a USB that contains their deepest, darkest, money grubby abuses. Maybe I should just tear off now and forget about it all together. Leave the USB there and let them crush the car. There’d be nothing left of it and I’d be in the wind once more. 

There’s only one issue with that plan. I think Ryker is going to be pissed off as soon as he finds out about the phone call I’d made. I think he’ll lose his S, H, I, double, wholly, fucking T.  

I’m sure the explanation I gave — with the massive amounts of groveling, and sorrowful apologies —
should
keep us both out of jail and alive. But I haven’t told Ryker this, and I plan to keep it that way. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And if it will keep him on this side of the grave, that’s all the better. 

“Georgia,” Ryker says to me, dragging me away from my daydream. 

“Um, hm.” 

“When we get there, go straight to Hazel’s. Don’t come to the shop. I’m gonna park over on her side of the yard so it’s an easy getaway for you. The shop is probably open and bustling like it is on any given Sunday, seeing not many of these guys are religious. Just go, say your goodbyes, grab your shit from her place and meet me at the side door. I’ll take you to the car to get your stuff and the USB, got it?” I nod taking a deep breath.

Ryker rounds the turn, pulls into the lot and parks along the trees at Hazel’s side yard. Harvester is in full swing, and I feel horrible I’m not there. 

“Remember, in and out, Georgia —”

“Kate. I’m Kate,” I snap back to Ryker. Fuck. One night could blow all our plans in a single second. 

He rakes a hand through his hair and nods. “Shit, you’re right. Kate,” he says grudgingly, “be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll be waiting on you.” 

I pop off my belt, hop out into the hot morning sun, and start across the asphalt to say goodbye to Hazel and Gus.

Crossing the threshold of the cool store, I’m blasted by the noise of everyone’s early morning joviality. Not good for hangovers, let me tell ya’. Hazel sees me immediately upon entry and scowls. I know my face looks horrible — I saw it in the mirror — and I’d assume the same thing she is. Dropping two steaming hot plates of breakfast onto the nearest table of starved kids, she promptly stomps towards me. I expect the railing. 

“What the hell, child. Don’t you tell me that my Ryker did this? I have half a mind to go grab my bat.” I smile, which hurts, then shake my head. 

“No Hazel, it’s not from Ryker. It’s a massive story that I would rather not get into — ever.” Looking across the room I see Sheriff Jones and Horny in the corner, hunched over their prickled kids and pigs. She sees where I’m motioning. As understanding creeps across her face, Hazel takes me by the arm, leading me to the back of the kitchen. I have no choice unless I want a show. 

“Does this have something to do with why you’re on the run? And child, don’t lie to me. I’ve seen that look before, I know a thing r’ two.” With her one hand on her hip, and the other turning my face back and forth, she looks me over and tuts her disapproval of my current beauty.

I nod. “Yeah, totally does. But don’t concern yourself.” I say it with a firmness and hope that she understands the finality of my tone. 

“Fine. I’ll shut up then. Are you on the way out or on the way to help out? Either way I’m good.”

“I’m on the way out. Mind if I go to the house and grab my things?” 

“Not at all. If you need anything or happen to pass back this way, you’re always welcome to stay for a spell.” Her eyes glass up as she tries to hold back tears. I appreciate the care she took with me, and that she cares what happens. But I don’t want her involved at all.

“If I could, I wouldn’t go anywhere Hazel. So thanks for everything. If I do come back this way, you’re the first on my list for a visit.” 

She pulls me into a big hug, kisses me on the cheek then steps back to relook at my shiner. “I hope you gave him what for?” 

“Yep, he got
exactly
what he deserved.” 

Hazel laughs, then turns back to the waiting customers. I know it’s crazy busy out there, so I know this was a quickie and I’m glad; I don’t think I could have done a long goodbye. 

I quickly say goodbye to Gus as he’s tossing home fries, and toasting bread on the grill, before I duck out the back to the house in the bush. I grab my things quickly, placing a fifty on the pillows for a thanks, then head out to Ryker’s truck to stow my things away. I still wish that I hadn’t hocked my mom’s ring, but I guess it was meant to be.