Vicious Punks by Madeline Fay

Tillie

“No, he’s not a cop. He’s the Chief of the Los Angeles precinct,” Dalton states simply with an eye roll, staring at me with his all too knowing violet eyes.

I have a hard time looking at his cut, the way the leather molds to his broad shoulders, and the smell of engine oil makes it hard to breathe, but holding his gaze helps center me. Flashbacks and triggers are close but far in between at the same time. I’ll be fine one minute and the next I’m stuck, back in that cold, dark basement. It could be a smell, the way people crowd close to me, a certain word, and all of a sudden I’m there, in the dark, feeling my flesh scrap against the concrete floor…one of the Demon Jokers breathing heavily over me as he ruts into me bone dry. I like to think most days I’m okay, that I can survive anything thrown at me, but I feel like a ticking time bomb. I hate to show any sign of weakness in front of anyone, so I put a smile on my face and keep walking forward even when I stumble.

So, yeah, the leather cut he’s wearing hasn’t triggered me. Maybe it’s because of the patch embedded into the black leather, the devil sprouting bat-like wings from its spine. It’s completely different from the cuts of the Demon Jokers, and Dalton won’t ever know this but the smell of engine oil actually brings back good memories for me with Uncle Rig in the shop. That reminds me. I’m fucking pissed off. It’s already getting old, them looking into my past and finding small snippets that I’d rather move on from, but the mention of Uncle Rig is like a noose around my neck. I can’t let that go. It gives me something to focus on instead of what I saw this morning with Franco - nope. Not going there. I can’t. It’s not much different from the club, Lorrie used to fuck Payne in front of me all the time. As if she had something to prove, and I had to sit there in a room full of bikers, pretending it didn’t bother me. What makes my stomach twist now is how Franco was staring at me. It’s the same look men get in their eyes when I dance on stage. Greed and lust.

Focus, Tillie, take your anger out on something else.

My gaze collides with Logan’s over my shoulder as I glance around, all the emotions of the last few days are bubbling up and he’s one of the people who keeps it going. How dare Logan keep my own shit from me and share it with the rest of the guys?! It’s none of their business!

“You motherfuckers tricked me! I’ve been thinking the police were going to show up to take me away any second because of you numb nuts. I didn’t know one was sleeping in the same house!” My tone comes out strained as I yell at Logan, who just calmly stands there staring at me and shrugs.

“It’s not my problem. Maybe you shouldn’t show up at a stranger's house in the middle of the night? Then again, you're probably just pretending since you came here for a reason, isn’t that right? Have you always been this pathetic?” Logan’s gaze roams me up and down with his upper lip curled, his honey eyes raking over my sundress with a look of disgust. “Why are you wearing a dress? Go change, you're showing too much skin and I don’t feel like killing anyone today, at least not until noon,” he commands without bothering to look me in the eyes, as if he just dismissed me and it just pisses me off even more.

Before I can fully turn around to punch his smug face, Nicky reaches out and stops me.His hand over my wrist has enough pressure to tell me he’s not letting go until I calm down. I glance back up at him, about to tell him to get his hands off me, but he’s not even looking at me. He’s glaring at Logan over my shoulder and hisses under his breath while dragging me closer to his body.

“The dress stays on,” he tells Logan with so much authority behind his voice that it makes me shudder, but not in fear.

What is it about the sound of a male’s voice going lower in pitch and deadly quiet, barely a whisper, that makes you want to throw your underwear at them? I’ll never understand it and it’s very new to me.

“I’m not an object. You can’t tell me what to do.” I grind my teeth and feel my pulse pounding hard in my neck.

Nicky quickly cuts his gaze towards me and he actually huffs under his breath like I’m a disobedient child.

“How are your knees, little bitch? Still sore? I bet that garage floor was cold,” Dalton drawls out in that deep voice of his in a rumble as I turn towards him.

He pushes off the wall from his lounging position, coming towards me on the silent feet of a predator. Why are they so freaking quiet when they move around? Graceful almost, but deadly. I hate the way their shoulders shift and muscles ripple under their clothes each time they move, just to prove how strong they are, and stupid me can’t stop staring. I hate the natural way they swagger with confidence because it’s kind of sexy and I don’t want to be attracted to that. Makes me want to grab the nearest object and beat them with it until they are limping instead.

“You know, when someone feels really cold, it means they are just at the brink of death. Just before your soul leaves your body, that's when you finally become warm. Should we test that on you?” I feel a small ounce of victory when Dalton stumbles over his own feet and nearly trips over Tey who is cracking up on the floor.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you. Whenever you're ready to start popping out my kids, sweetheart, just give me the go ahead.” Tey winks at me, chuckling as he stands and stretches like a cat from a long nap.

“Unbelievable,” I whisper under my breath and glance back at Nicky, ready to ask him the one question I’m dreading.

It makes it hard to swallow because it feels like a golf ball is stuck in my throat.

“Rig. You found nothing on him in the last two years? No trace of his whereabouts?” I stare up at Nicky with a hopeful expression, maybe give me answers I’ve been longing for and to give me a reason to dream again.

“Why would I tell you anything? Maybe if you start telling the truth of why you're here, I might just give you that information. Seems like he’s someone important to you. Are you his old lady?” Nicky tilts his head to the side and strokes his chin just before his facial expression evens out into a blank mask. “Thank you for giving me that. Another piece to dangle over your head if you step out of line,” he whispers, his voice menacing and gravelly.

My heart drops down to my feet in devastation. I shouldn’t have expected anything less of him. I shove myself away from him only to collide with Dalton who wraps his arms around me from behind, tightly, like you would with a teddy bear.

“She’s no one's old lady!” Dalton growls at Nicky and bends his head down to place his cheek against mine, his whispered words vibrating along my skin. “Little bitch, you can ride me- I mean on the back of my bike on the way to school.” Dalton's raspy chuckle against my skin feels oddly good, sending pleasurable shivers down my spine.

“I’m good. I don’t think you know how to handle that bike of yours,” I sass back, unable to help myself, the need to cause trouble pulsing through me.

A taste of freedom can do that, makes you rebel and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. A man can place me on my knees but he can’t keep me there. They want to play a game… I can play too.

“Enough. Who’s on babysitting duty after school? Tey and I will be at the warehouse doing business.” Logan’s eyes cut to me real quick before glancing between Dalton and Nicky with a raised brown eyebrow.

“I can’t. I have church tonight. A small supply shipment went missing last night,” Dalton grumbles as he tips his head back to glare at the ceiling, his fists clenching at his sides in clear frustration.

I would feel bad for him if I didn’t know what he meant. I wonder what kind of dealings his club is involved in. It’s always drugs. At least, that was what Payne had the club running, and human trafficking he dipped his hands in from time to time. God knows what else.

“Guess that leaves you, Nicky,” Logan announces with an evil smirk, twirling his keys around his finger before tossing them in the air and catching them again.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tey questions, his brow furrowed as he stares at Nicky as if he can read his mind.

That makes me wonder if I should be worried if Tey is concerned.

“It’s fine.” Nicky’s deep voice dips lower just as he glances down at me. “You can follow orders like a good girl, right?” He doesn’t wait for me to reply, clearly thinking I’ll follow whatever commands he barks at me just before he storms out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

“Good girl, my ass,” I mutter to myself in a quiet tone, glaring at the front door as if I can see through it, and hoping he can feel my annoyance.

My breath catches in the back of my throat when I’m suddenly spun around and tossed over a firm, strong shoulder upside down with my sundress over my hips. I brace my palm against Dalton’s lower muscular back, clenching his cut in my fists as I feel the blood rush to my head.

“You’ll be a good girl or that little video of you stealing the Ferrari might just go viral all over the internet. The Chief of Police can lock you up until your club comes to collect you,” Dalton threatens, the smirk can be heard in his voice.

He smacks my ass unexpectedly, hard enough with the flat of his palm to make me gasp at the sting, his warning clear. My skin pulses on the surface where he slapped and oddly enough, I like the way it makes me squirm at the thought of him doing it again.

They don’t bluff.

With a throbbing, sore buttcheek, and my plan to turn them against each other flushing down the toilet, he strides out of the room with his hand on my thigh to hold me in place. He walks out the front door with a whistle towards his bike, my ass exposed to the early morning sky.

“Keep an eye on her, Dalton. Don’t know what kind of trouble she can get into before school even starts.” Logan skims his fingers down the back of my thigh as he walks towards his car.

“Please get into trouble. I can’t wait to punish you again. Be a bad girl, sweetcheeks.” Tey crosses his fingers and grabs my thong between my ass cheeks until it’s tight enough, before letting it snap back into place.

I’m going to murder him and bathe in his blood. My buttcrack hurts now.

Dalton lets go of me without warning, making me squeal as I slide down his body and land my already sore ass on the concrete driveway with a thud. I blow my hair out of my face and glare up at him from my sitting position. He just crosses his arms with a smirk, making his biceps bulge and strain against his white tee under his cut.

“Getting comfortable down there, aren’t you?” he says with that annoying smirk that brings out a dimple.He turns around towards his Harley as he chuckles, swinging his long legs over the seat with ease.

I hold back a frustrated scream and take a deep breath before climbing to my feet. He just watches me with that stupid cocky smile as I walk towards him while dusting off my dress and plaster a smile on my face. His eyes drop to my lips before flashing back up to meet my gaze, just as I reach his motorcycle. He doesn’t know that I was partially born to ride, he only knows I’m pretty handy with stealing a car. I’m not surprised one bit that the beat up Ferrari isn’t in the driveway, already taken care of. I think I’ll keep my secrets close to my chest until I need to use them for my revenge. I’ll catch them all by surprise.

“Get on, little bitch.” His smirk widens as the guys pull out of the driveway and it’s just the two of us.

Placing my hand on his broad shoulders, I swing my leg over the seat behind him and plaster my body against his back with my thighs molded to his. My arms wrap around his waist, playing with the hem of his t-shirt and feeling his abs ripple under my fingers. A man can’t resist the heat a woman can bring, the comfort of a body. That’s what Doris told me at least. Give them what they want, let them think they have all the power, and then crush them. With my dress hiked up to my hips, he has to feel the warmth I’m radiating because almost as if he can’t control himself, he reaches back to slide his calloused hand up and down my thigh.

The engine rumbles underneath us, the familiar feeling giving me a spark of excitement and makes me miss my crotch rocket. I wonder if anyone has found it in the desert yet and if they are scrambling? I hope I never find out.

“Hold on. You might want to tighten your grip, don’t want you falling off. Although this one time, we chained up a guy, for trying to kill Logan, to the back of my bike and I drove for an hour straight. He was almost unrecognizable by the time I stopped. Are you into that type of stuff? That’s what we do with anyone that crosses us,” he shouts over his shoulder at me in a threatening tone. Trying to scare me, but the thing is I’ve seen that happen before.

The club wasn’t allowed to touch me without Payne’s consent. There were plenty of times I was groped, shoved to my knees in hidden corners, but I wasn’t raped again. Didn’t mean someone didn’t try. Cruz had a way of giving a warning that I was his property without even having to say a word. So I know what a man looks like from being dragged behind a motorcycle on asphalt. The skin peeled away like an orange, leaving the insides to spill out. Twisted limbs, missing body parts, and so much blood that you could drown in it. Nothing will ever surprise me again, but the fear will always be there, lurking around the corner, just waiting to snatch me up. I feel bile rise up my throat and my fingers clench his white shirt as I place my forehead against his back.

“You know... with me being on the back of your bike, does that mean I’m your old lady now? I didn’t know you felt this way,” I mutter just loud enough into the fabric of his shirt for him to hear me, sarcasm thick enough to cut through with a knife.

“Shut the fuck up for the rest of the ride.” His voice is full of disdain and he cuts off any reply I was dying to give by revving the engine, and speeding down the street at a neck breaking pace.

Well, fine then. Not like I wanted to talk to him anyways, but this did give me an insight into his mind. From what I gathered already, he has commitment issues. First, with the teacher and the display he gave me the first day we met, anyone could have walked in. Now, the two little words old lady makes his entire body go rigid and stiff.

Maybe I’m going about this all wrong with him. I should try smothering him to death with affection, attach myself to his side because if there's one thing I know, it’s when you've never been shown any love and you finally have some… you crave it more than anything else in the world. He’s going to run, but I’m going to give him what he secretly wants, have him on my side then make him pay.

I might just be my father’s daughter after all.

My thoughts are dark and twisted. It’s what scares me the most, and keeps me up at night.

* * *

He parkshis motorcycle next to Logan and Nicky’s cars, shutting off the engine, and starts to stand but I cling to him like a spider monkey. My hands glide over his shirt, feeling the ridges and curves of his eight pack, and to be honest with myself I’m impressed. He freezes and quickly whips his head around to glance over his shoulder at me. I smile sweetly at him and hum under my breath in anticipation.

“God, you're so big all over.” I stare into his violet eyes and lick my lips slowly which draws his gaze right there like I wanted it to.

I move closer, pressing my breasts against his bicep and letting my lips barely touch his earlobe as I whisper in my most husky voice. “Think of me when you're with that teacher. Just remember who knows how to make it good for you.” I’m off the bike and walking fast across the school parking lot before he can stop me as he sits there frozen staring after me.

Score one for Tillie. Zero for Dalton.

I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me and I know he hears me because he starts swearing. Looking over my shoulder as I reach the double doors, I see him stomping across the lot with his gaze narrowed on me. It speaks of payback.

I went too far! Oh shit. Oh shit!

Swinging the door open quickly, I practically run into the school and start shoving people out of my way in the crowded hall as I look around frantically for an escape route. I shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have teased him like that so early in the morning. God knows what he’s going to do to me in public.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Little bitch!” Dalton roars, causing everyone to stop and stare as he heads towards me like an angry bull, ignoring the students that quickly jump out of his way.

A pair of familiar glasses catch my attention at the end of the hallway as he places his books in his locker. I’m thankful Evan is nerdy enough for me to pick him out in a sea of bodies. He’s even wearing a different Star Trek shirt. My very first friend and I’m already using him as a safety net. I’m a horrible person.

“Evan!” I bellow, waving my arm around like a limp noodle, no doubt looking like a loon as I pick up my pace to reach his side before Dalton catches me.

Evan looks up at his name being shouted, his brows wrinkled in confusion, like he’s wondering who the hell would be shouting his name when everyone seems to ignore him. I watch him adjust his black framed glasses just as his gaze collides with mine. His eyes widen as he glances over my shoulder and he quickly starts stuffing the rest of his books in his locker in panic, grabbing his book bag off the floor to swing over his shoulders with jerky movements, his hands are trembling. He better not ditch me! I’m going to need back up to face my big, bad scary biker. Wait...He’s not mine!

Get your head out of your ass, Tillie, and stick to the plan, don’t let them dig their way past the barrier you’ve taken years to build. I nod at myself, at my thoughts, and focus on my partner in crime.

“Evan, wait up!” I say breathlessly when I finally reach his side, panicking as I glance behind me to see Dalton staring, but his attention is otherwise occupied at the moment. Mrs. Sullivan comes prowling out of her classroom like the predator she is and steps in front of Dalton in red fuck me heels. As if it's not obvious enough, she starts stroking his bicep with her red fingernails and blocks his path. He doesn't even bother looking down at her, his gaze is firmly locked on mine promising retaliation.

“Dalton, if I could have a moment of your time. I'd like to go over something from that deep discussion yesterday,” Mrs. Sullivan mutters, in what I think is an attempt at a raspy voice, instead it sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Too whiney and breathless.

Evan grabs my elbow, swinging his gaze left and right, like he might get attacked on a battlefield any second, but snatches it away like he was burned as Dalton tries to step around Mrs. Sullivan. He gives Evan a hard glare that speaks of death.

“Dalton!” The hoe of a teacher actually stomps her foot, her grip unyielding on his arm so he has no choice but to follow her into her classroom.

I can't seem to stop glaring right back at him, my left eye twitching at the way she tries to control him. I don't like her hands on him. No one deserves to be handled or touched without consent first. It is completely noticeable that he doesn't want to go with her. Why isn’t he stopping Mrs. Sullivan? Is he going to fuck that twat?! That alone has me stepping towards him just as he reaches the classroom doorway, but Evan stops me.

“Are you nuts? Let's get the hell out of here before he decides to kill us!” Evan's voice goes high pitched, like he’s going through puberty, as he shoves me along with his shoulder bumping against mine so he's not touching me with his hands.

I almost regret wearing the sundress with the noodle straps that leaves my shoulders bare, I feel completely out in the open like my shield of armor is gone. My scars and tattoos on display. Why did I think it was a good idea to do this? I stood in front of the mirror after changing into the dress and thought it was fine to start doing normal things I've never been able to do. I’ve only made myself a target because now people are staring at me. It's either with hate, burning jealousy, or lust sweeping up and down my body. I wish I could hunch my shoulders, let my hair fall in front of my face to hide, but that's not who I am anymore.

“You better be going to class, little bitch!” Dalton shouts, his voice echoing around the hall as people turn to stare at me, just before he disappears inside her classroom.

I don't like that fucking teacher. Just because she's going through a midlife crisis and is getting old, doesn't mean she gets to prey on anyone younger than her. A predator who shouldn’t be around kids. She makes me want to bash her head into her dry erase board, repeatedly. My cheeks turn red at the attention of people staring at me, but I hold my head high as Evan and I start walking towards our class after a few seconds of just standing there.

“He wasn't going to kill you. Probably just me. Or at least do something to make me wish I was dead,” I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest as we dodge out of the way of students rushing to class before the bell rings.

I hate the way my breathing picks up without my control every time I'm in a crowded place. The way I can't have eyes in the back of my head, or how I constantly have to have my guard up. One day I hope that my heart won't race, and my palms won't grow clammy, when a stranger stands too close to me. Even with my new friend, I feel like I can't relax, that my body is a tight string ready to snap.

“If you weren't one of the coolest chicks ever, I would probably be hightailing it out of here before one of those four douchebags eats me alive for just talking to you.” He snorts at his own joke, gripping the straps of his leather bag as he walks nervously beside me.

I'm not so sure that he will stick around. I don't want him to get into harm's way either. I really hope the guys leave him alone and don't do anything just because he talks to me. Hell, they threw a fit and told on me to Franco just because I was in another guy's car. My life has been threatened enough times.

“I'm hardly cool. I’m probably the most boring person you'll ever meet. What class are you heading to?” I change the subject, not knowing if he's going to ask me anything personal.

I can't answer anything he would be curious about. Why I have so many tattoos. How I came to know the guys after only just starting here. Nothing about my past can be brought up. I'll make sure I protect the innocent, even from myself.

“AP chemistry. Do you, um...want to meet for lunch? I mean you don't have to but if you want to uh… you know, hang out?” he asks slowly, like it’s forbidden to even ask me and he nearly trips over his Converse sneakers as he fumbles with his words.

“I'd like that. You can give me all the deets about who's who around here too. This is my class, I'll look for you in the cafeteria!” I wait in the doorway with my arms crossed in amusement as he shuffles on his feet, looking nervous.

"For sure! I'll put some flashcards together on topics we can talk about…” Evan trails off and stares at me in horror, his cheeks a bright red.

“I totally love flashcards,” I chuckle as he quickly nods his head and spins on his heels, walking with his head down as he mutters to himself.

I watch him make his way down the hallway as kids walk into him as if he’s not really there. I glance at their faces, remembering them for sometime later, and slowly make my way into my classroom, noticing seats already filling up.

If I'm going to come out on the other side unscathed, I have to gather as much information as possible.

Biting my lip to stop laughing at the ridiculousness of high school drama when my whole life has been a soap opera. I scan the rows of seats to find an empty chair. I spot one in the back left corner with no other desks behind it, so I don’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on me. Old habits die hard. My eyes connect with a girl in the front row, her glare makes me stop for a second to figure out what her problem is, but then it clicks. It’s the stuck up bitch who thought I needed a refresher yesterday by dumping her drink all over me. Real classy.

Paris.

The chick who follows Logan around like a dog after a bone. That bone would be his penis. It's not hers... I don't know where that possessive thought came from. I make my way through the desks, glaring at Paris as I pass her and give her the bird. She sticks her leg out at the last second, trying to trip me but I expected something like that from her, so I just skip over her outstretched leg and calmly walk towards the last desk.

“Stupid cunt,” she mutters under her breath and leans towards her friend to the right, whispering in her ear as she flips her hair while staring at me the whole time.

“Logan likes my cunt,” I respond back, for only her to hear, and I’m enjoying the way her face turns a blotchy red.

What are we? In second grade? If she ever saw half the stuff I've seen, she'd be admitted to a mental hospital and wouldn't be trying as hard to gain attention from everyone. I can stomach a lot now, after years of practice, but she wouldn’t make it one day in my shoes.

The moment I sit down, I know I’ve made a mistake by not checking the seat first. Something squishy is under my ass, instantly soaking through my dress and making me shiver at the disgusting feeling. I hiss out a breath as I slide out of the seat and twist to look down at the clear, slimy jelly-like substance covering my butt.

With a curled lip, I leisurely glance up to see Paris holding up something in her hands with a satisfied grin on her smug face. My eyes zoom in on the lubrication packets being held up for everyone to see.

“Figured a whore like yourself would need some help with that used pussy,” Paris sneers, her expression satisfied as if she won whatever game she’s trying to play.

I ignore the laughter from the other students as I calmly walk towards her with my facial expression blank, so she can’t guess what I’m thinking. I stare down at her without saying anything for a long minute until I slam my palms on her desk and lean forward just inches from her face which has her slightly drawing back from me with uncertainty in her gaze.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need any lube to get wet. I can understand for a dried up bitch like yourself needing the help, that would explain why you carry them around.” My lips curl in a smirk and I straighten to walk out of the classroom like I don’t have a care in the world, even though everyone is staring at my white dress that's decorated with globs of lube on my ass.

The final bell rings loudly as I stomp down the halls in anger, muttering to myself and almost colliding with a teacher turning the corner. He steps out of my way, looking like he was about to say something but must have seen something on my face that has his jaw snapping closed because he lets me pass without a word. Maybe the tube was a sign not to get comfortable in front of others by wearing this damn dress. I head towards the gym at the last second, instead of going to the bathroom to try to get the jelly off, arguing with myself the whole way, knowing I have a pair of shorts and shirt in the locker room.

This is why I hate trying to blend in because no matter how hard I try to be invisible, someone is going to notice the broken girl and make her into a target. I think people can see right through me, smell me coming a mile away... maybe that’s why the world is so cruel to me.

My wedge heels echo along the quiet hallway as I make my way to the other side of the building where the gym is. The thought of running out the front doors of the school without looking back is tempting, but I know I wouldn't make it far because Nicky seems like the type of man to make good on his promises of blackmail. I’d run out of the little money I have left in no time and would be caught within a few hours. Who knows with the way Nicky can hack into computers, he can probably get into any camera feed.

He can trace my steps easily, bringing me back kicking and screaming.

Rounding the corner of the empty gym, I jog across the wood floors and reach for the girls locker room door around the corner from the bleachers. It looks like gym class isn't scheduled at this hour. That's one good thing about today, enough students have seen my humiliation since school started this morning. I need a break before I completely lose it. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to find a quiet place and let your mind wander, to recharge before facing the outside world again.

I have to pause with my hand on the door handle when I hear muffled male voices on the other side. I double check the sign to make sure it's the girls locker room, confirming it is. I debate what to do. Wondering If I should come back later. What if someone is getting their freak on in there? Maybe it's a hookup area everyone knows about since this class period is free.

“Get. Chicken butt. Ah! Get off me. Off me, asshats!” A girl shouts in repeated words, her voice high pitched and panicked somewhere inside the locker room.

My decision is made at the fear I can hear in her tone. I swing the door open so quickly that it bangs against the wall, enough to catch the attention of the three jocks surrounding the girl from gym class yesterday. The one who threw a book at Paris.

Her almond shaped green eyes meet mine, the hysteria clear in her gaze as the biggest one of the jocks crowds in front of her with his hand on her hip under her shirt. The other two are holding her arms in a grip tight enough to bruise, pinning her in place against the lockers.

“Hey, asshats, I don't think she wants you touching her.” My tone comes out bored as I lean against the frame of the door with my arms crossed, so as to appear like the whole situation is no big deal.

I'm stalling. I glance around to see what I can use to beat them over the head with, but there's only a book on the ground. Looks like I don’t have many options and I’m not about to leave her with these guys.

I slowly slip off my wedged heels as tweedle dee and tweedle dumb release her, looking at the one who seems to be in charge. They don’t seem to know what to do with little ole me showing up and ruining their plans. I think it’s the jocks from yesterday, the big one with red hair looks familiar.

“It's none of your business, new girl. Although I can be with you in just a second, after I’m finished with tourettes over here. Nicola owes me, but it's not like she doesn’t want it. No one wants you anyways.” Red leers down at her and twitches his gaze over to me. I feel disgusted with his brown eyes sliding over my body as if he has a right to think he can have me.

“You wish. Little penis. Little,” Nicola snarls like a rabid dog, her eyelids blinking rapidly, and that just makes me want to become her friend even more.

She’s cool. Her attitude is basically her sticking her finger up at the universe, not caring about standard society rules. She’s wearing black skinny jeans with colorful suspenders, and a black t-shirt with a giant purple butterfly that takes up half the shirt. It really goes with the butterfly clip she has in her hair, but it’s kind of ruined by the way her hair is sticking up in every direction.

“Shut up, stupid bitch. I’m going to teach you a lesson. You're not as protected as you think.” He slams her roughly against the locker, grabbing her short black hair in his fist to stop her from moving.

“Gary, man. I don’t know about this. What if he finds out-” Looks like one of them has brains as his eyes shift behind me in a nervous gesture, as if whoever he’s scared of might show up.

I wonder who he is talking about? I can’t help the chuckle that escapes past my lips, which makes them pause to stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.

“Really? Gary? That’s your name? I’m going to give you five seconds to release Nicola or I’ll make sure you all regret thinking you can lay hands on an unwilling female.” I stare coldly into Gary’s eyes without blinking, meaning every word.

Nicola fidgets, shaking her head viciously and as if she has no control over her limbs. She reaches out to dive her elbow back into Gary’s stomach and twists his nipples through his jersey as he releases her. He hisses out in pain and I take that as my cue to step in. Without hesitating, I grab my wedges and chuck them hard at Gary’s two minions. It catches the one closest to me right between his eyes. He stumbles back a step into the lockers as he groans in discomfort and holds his hands over his face, right over the shoe print it left on his forehead. Nicola screeches like a wild animal and slams her knee up into Gary’s balls. He drops to his knees with a girly high pitched scream, his face turning pale then a plum color as the pain registers. The other jock trips over his buddy on the floor as he tries to reach for me, you can tell he’s not the most graceful on the football field.

“Move. Peep corn! Move!” Nicola shouts, confusing me with what she’s trying to say in her panic.

She slips out from between Gary and the lockers, reaching for my hand to drag me out of the locker room, but she smacks my outstretched palm away just as I reach for her. “Sorry. Can’t help it.” She grimaces and grabs for my wrist this time, leading the way out back towards the gym.

I hear shuffling behind me and am suddenly yanked back by my long hair, my arm slipping out of Nicola's grip just as she steps through the locker room doorway. She spins around in alarm, horror washing over her face just before the door slams closed just like a gunshot going off.

“You're going to pay for that. You might not have been my first choice, but you’ll do. Jesus. It’s a good thing you have a fantastic ass because it’s hard to look at you with so many ugly scars on your body. A shame really, but it still gets the job done.” Gary tightens his hand in my hair, twisting so that I’m hunched over and bent forward at the waist as he starts limping away from the door with me held in a grip that’s impossible to escape.

He drags me farther into the locker room with his two friends following, both of them eerily silent besides their heavy breathing. Gary lets go of me, shoving me towards his friends who grab either side of my arms to hold me in place. I refuse to glance away, I meet Gary’s gaze head on as he stands in front of me with a leering smirk that sends a shiver of horror down my spine. I won’t let him know how truly scared I am. My mask will be firmly in place, no matter what, I can’t go back to who I used to be.

“Larry. Stan. Hold her still while I teach her a lesson on who runs this school,” he orders and glares when a snort escapes me at their names.

Just like the three stooges.

My head whips to the side at the unexpected blow, the back of his hand cutting my lip. Breathing hard, my head hangs between my shoulders as I stare at the floor. Lip throbbing, my blood trails hotly down my chin and drips onto the tiled floor one drop at a time in little bright red splats.

“You’re a nobody. Nothing in this place, whore.” Gary brings my head up by my hair, his voice sounding far away.

I can hardly see his blurry face in front of me as my body starts to tremble, the only noise I can hear is my breathing, even though I know he’s talking. I’m not really here anymore. I’m transported into a time and place from the past, a memory that I try to bury deep into the back of my mind. No matter how fast I run, how much I hold back…I can’t escape.

“Dad. Have you seen Uncle Rig?” I ask timidly, wishing I didn’t have to confront my father, but I haven’t seen Uncle Rig for days. It’s not like him to not check in on me.

Dad turns his head away from Nix, setting his beer down on the bar top, and glances at me with a smile that seems not quite right.

Deranged. Twisted.

“Sometimes I forget for a while that you're alive, but then I see your face and wish you were never born.” Dad delivers that blow, making me stumble back in shock at the cruelty.

I always knew that he didn’t like me as a daughter. I’m a disappointment, all because I wasn’t born a male, but I never knew how deep that hate ran until now.

Lorrie laughs from her position on Dad’s lap, kissing up his neck as she stares at me with a nasty smirk, like she knows a secret I don’t.

“Wha-what have I ever done to make you hate me so much?” I croak out, staring up at my dad, looking for an ounce of love that I desperately crave.

I’m always starving, feeling like a shallow body just waiting for someone to love me until I’m completely full.

“Absolutely nothing. I despise you, what you stand for.” He laughs loudly, the sound echoing back as the Demon Jokers members join him in his sickening display of hatred.

I always pretended what went on around me was never really there, the drugs, the fucking… it never existed in my mind because I had an escape with Uncle Rig and Cruz. The only people who make me feel like a somebody. Someone important to them.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling my eyes fill up with tears, and the need to run makes my body tremble.

“Pathetic,” Dad says with a mocking smile as he stares at me. “Rig isn’t coming back, he didn’t even want to be around you. You’re nothing, Tillie, and never will be,” he taunts, like a slap to the face and I search his eyes for the lie, but I find nothing.

“You're wrong!” I cry out and don’t see the fist coming towards my cheek until it is too late.

Sprawled out on the worn wood floor, I brace myself on my hands with my legs curled under me as I choke on my sobs, my mouth pooling with blood. I can’t breathe, can’t gasp or draw in a breath as I watch my blood soak into the wood under my palms. A hand grasps my hair, pulling hard at the strands to make me look up at him, my neck strains at an awkward angle.

“Do you know why I was named Payne?” He crouches over my huddled position, waiting for my answer, but I don’t have one. “Because I’m known for causing pain, everyone earns my fist as I bring them close to heaven. This is all you’ll ever feel until you draw in your last breath, but even that I’ll own. Your lessons start now, Tillie. Take her to the basement.” He shoves me away, nods his head to Nix who reaches for me and starts dragging me across the room towards the basement stairs.

“You’ll know your place.”

Those are Dad’s last words to me before Payne enters my life, destroying everything beautiful I once held close to my heart.

It was only pain.