father’s head was
posted, screaming and crying the entire time. Freedom couldn’t take her eyes off
her father. The face etched in a bloody scream that would live with her for the rest
of her life.
She felt large strong arms surround her, voices talking to her, but she couldn’t stop.
Her father, the man who raised her, took her to the ocean, took her to see her dying
mother in the hospital, was dead. She had no one.
She fought and struggled to get to him, for no other reason than to take him off display,
but they held her. Freedom fell to the ground, and they followed her, into a heap,
wrestling her fighting body as she clawed to run. They wouldn’t let her.
The last thing she remembered was the sight of her father’s head, dripping blood and
frozen in a terrified expression in front of her, before she allowed the darkness
to take over, soothe her tortured heart.
*****
Freedom heard murmuring and she burrowed into the thick heavy covers. It was too early , she thought. She sighed and moved a little, frowning at the nice soft bed she was
laying on, wait, her bed was lumpy and hard. She didn’t have thick soft covers; hers
were cheap and rough.
She opened one eye, and then another. Where was she? Moving a little, she grimaced,
she hurt all over. What the hell had she done to make her this sore? She moved to
the side of the bed and looked around.
A strangled whimper escaped her lips as she recognized where she was. The memories
began to flood back. Her father was dead. Tears flooded her eyes and the first sob
escaped.
“Freedom,” she heard a man say and she turned her head to see Creed and Poke standing
in the doorway.
“Tell me it was a dream,” Freedom cried and she saw the look of pity come across both
of their faces. “Noooo,” she screamed and fell back onto the bed.
She sobbed into the pillow, only seeing what her father’s face looked like the last
time she saw him. Her fault, this was her fault , she thought. Maybe if she had stuck around and helped instead of running. Maybe
he would still be alive.
“Freedom,” she heard again. This time the man’s voice was harder. It was Poke, she
could tell.
Twisting and turning her head, not listening as Poke tried to calm her down. She
had no idea she was talking her thoughts aloud. Blaming herself and making herself
increasingly hysterical.
*****
“Damn it, Creed,” Poke yelled as he fought Freedom, she was twisting and turning,
sobbing.
“Here,” his leader yelled and handed him and syringe. “Valium.”
Poke nodded and stuck her in the ass and grabbed her and held on. It took only a
few minutes for her sobs and cries to fade and turn into quiet whimpers. Thank G od , he thought as he looked at the woman.
“The cops want to talk to her,” Creed said.
“They are gonna fucking have to wait,” Poke said grimly.
“Yeah,” Creed laughed dryly. “Tell them that.”
Poke turned and glared at his friend and then said, “No problem, I will fucking shove
it up their asses too.”
“Brother, you can’t piss off the local cops,” Creed warned.
“Fuck this,” Poke said. “They are gonna die.”
Creed looked at his friend and brother, and nodded. He felt the same way. The message
was loud and clear, and even if Freedom didn’t understand it right now, she would.
Their lives had become tangled in this mess the moment she stepped foot into their
club.
Leaving her father’s head had been a message for all of them. For Freedom, because
it was her father and he had not paid them the money. For the Warriors, because the
pike was left on their land, they had somehow gotten through their security and placed
the pike in their driveway. Their message was very clear—they could get to them if
they wanted.
Right now, Easy, Fork, Raven, and Magnum were working on how they got in. The place
was on lockdown until all this shit got sorted. No one in and no one out. The police
posted, screaming and crying the entire time. Freedom couldn’t take her eyes off
her father. The face etched in a bloody scream that would live with her for the rest
of her life.
She felt large strong arms surround her, voices talking to her, but she couldn’t stop.
Her father, the man who raised her, took her to the ocean, took her to see her dying
mother in the hospital, was dead. She had no one.
She fought and struggled to get to him, for no other reason than to take him off display,
but they held her. Freedom fell to the ground, and they followed her, into a heap,
wrestling her fighting body as she clawed to run. They wouldn’t let her.
The last thing she remembered was the sight of her father’s head, dripping blood and
frozen in a terrified expression in front of her, before she allowed the darkness
to take over, soothe her tortured heart.
*****
Freedom heard murmuring and she burrowed into the thick heavy covers. It was too early , she thought. She sighed and moved a little, frowning at the nice soft bed she was
laying on, wait, her bed was lumpy and hard. She didn’t have thick soft covers; hers
were cheap and rough.
She opened one eye, and then another. Where was she? Moving a little, she grimaced,
she hurt all over. What the hell had she done to make her this sore? She moved to
the side of the bed and looked around.
A strangled whimper escaped her lips as she recognized where she was. The memories
began to flood back. Her father was dead. Tears flooded her eyes and the first sob
escaped.
“Freedom,” she heard a man say and she turned her head to see Creed and Poke standing
in the doorway.
“Tell me it was a dream,” Freedom cried and she saw the look of pity come across both
of their faces. “Noooo,” she screamed and fell back onto the bed.
She sobbed into the pillow, only seeing what her father’s face looked like the last
time she saw him. Her fault, this was her fault , she thought. Maybe if she had stuck around and helped instead of running. Maybe
he would still be alive.
“Freedom,” she heard again. This time the man’s voice was harder. It was Poke, she
could tell.
Twisting and turning her head, not listening as Poke tried to calm her down. She
had no idea she was talking her thoughts aloud. Blaming herself and making herself
increasingly hysterical.
*****
“Damn it, Creed,” Poke yelled as he fought Freedom, she was twisting and turning,
sobbing.
“Here,” his leader yelled and handed him and syringe. “Valium.”
Poke nodded and stuck her in the ass and grabbed her and held on. It took only a
few minutes for her sobs and cries to fade and turn into quiet whimpers. Thank G od , he thought as he looked at the woman.
“The cops want to talk to her,” Creed said.
“They are gonna fucking have to wait,” Poke said grimly.
“Yeah,” Creed laughed dryly. “Tell them that.”
Poke turned and glared at his friend and then said, “No problem, I will fucking shove
it up their asses too.”
“Brother, you can’t piss off the local cops,” Creed warned.
“Fuck this,” Poke said. “They are gonna die.”
Creed looked at his friend and brother, and nodded. He felt the same way. The message
was loud and clear, and even if Freedom didn’t understand it right now, she would.
Their lives had become tangled in this mess the moment she stepped foot into their
club.
Leaving her father’s head had been a message for all of them. For Freedom, because
it was her father and he had not paid them the money. For the Warriors, because the
pike was left on their land, they had somehow gotten through their security and placed
the pike in their driveway. Their message was very clear—they could get to them if
they wanted.
Right now, Easy, Fork, Raven, and Magnum were working on how they got in. The place
was on lockdown until all this shit got sorted. No one in and no one out. The police
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