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Chapter Five

Dorothy

I'd never been so glad to be alone in my life. Not because I was scared or upset, though I admitted I wasn't as comfortable being here now as I was minutes before, but I could feel the stupid catheter slipping out of me. Fuck my life, anyway.

No. Scratch that. I'd live through a little embarrassment now to be out of the nightmare I'd been in before I woke up in this place.

The second the door shut on Stitches and Morgue, the catheter slipped completely out and plopped to the floor. I nearly groaned in embarrassment as I felt a small trickle of urine running down my leg. Thank God it wasn't much.

I picked up the catheter and bag it was attached to. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? Thankfully, it wasn't hard to figure out how to empty the bag into the toilet. I threw the rest of it into the trash before finding a cloth to wet and clean myself. Stitches was correct. I wanted a shower. A long, hot shower. I needed to scrub myself clean, though I suspected that might be impossible.

I'd just finished cleaning up when there was a knock at the door. At first, I didn't answer. The shirt I was wearing covered everything, but did I really want to walk around bare-assed in a place with a bunch of strange men? That the line of thought led me to panic.

I took a deep breath just before the knock came again. "Dorothy? My name's Iris. I've got some stuff for you. Clothes. Toiletries. Can I come in? I've got water, and some Gatorade, too."

I tried to tell the other woman she could come in, but my throat was parched. I unlocked the door and opened it a crack.

"Hi, Dorothy." The pretty, petite woman who peered in held an armload of clothes and other things. She didn't look very old, but there was a keen, assessing look in her eyes. She was definitely sizing me up, but not in a creepy way. More like she was trying to figure out the best way to talk to me without frightening me. "I'm Iris. Can I come in?"

I nodded, pulsing the door back enough to unlock the chain and swallowing before I spoke. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

She smiled kindly. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. The men here can be a handful, but they're the best people I know. I brought you some toiletries as well as a couple changes of clothes. Shoes. If there's anything else you need, I'll be happy to get it for you." She set her load on the couch. Then she picked up a moderately sized bag on top of the pile and handed it to me. "Shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel. Also got a new hairbrush and toothbrush and toothpaste. There's also a razor if you need it. Still in the packages." Then she picked up another, smaller bag. "New underwear and feminine products. Do you want me to go while you shower? I can come back if you prefer."

"I, uh. I don't… I don't know."

"Hmm. How about I leave you and come back in an hour. That way you can take your time. I'll bring some burgers and potato salad if you want."

"That sounds delicious." I gave her a tight smile. It really did sound good. I just wasn't sure how much or if I could eat. "I'm a little off-balance. It was bad choices that led me here. I'm afraid to do anything now. Afraid it'll be a bad choice."

"I think all the old ladies here could say the same thing." She gave me an understanding smile. "You go on and clean up. If you need anything, I'm sure your bodyguard will be just outside. All you have to do is yell for him."

"Bodyguard?" That made my heart speed up. "Am I a prisoner?"

"What? No! Heavens no. I was referring to Morgue. The man hasn't left your side since they got you all here. Morgue isn't one to make attachments easily. In fact, he only interacts with the men of Iron Tzars when he has to. He's decided it's his job to protect you or something. I'm glad, because it's not good for him to be by himself so much."

"Why would he do that?"

She shrugged. "Don't know, honey. But it's obvious to all of us he has. He'll be the best protector you could have."

"He saved me." I have no idea why I said that, but I meant it. I'd felt safe with him from the first time I saw him. I'd pegged him as the most dangerous man in a roomful of dangerous men and put my life in his hands willingly.

"The men here tend to do that. They've saved all of us in one way or another. But we all saved them right back."

I hoped she was right. I felt like I needed saving from my life. Lord knew I could use a fresh start. But was that life here? Or was this just as bad as the other place? I had to admit, though, if the people here were trying to draw me into some kind of sex ring -- like they'd pulled me out of -- they were doing an elaborate set-up. I was scared, but everyone here had been nothing but nice.

Also, Iris was right. Morgue had been with me every time I'd woken up. I'd had vague flashes of waking up frightened or hurting, and Morgue's face was the thing I was able to focus on most. I'd remembered Stitches telling me why Morgue had his name and instead of being horrified or scared, I'd been relieved. Because he was protecting me -- for whatever reason. As far as I was concerned, the more deadly he was the better. It meant no one was getting to me. No one would take me from him. "I believe you. At least, about the first part. I'm not sure I have it in me to save anyone. Not even myself."

"You do." She squeezed my shoulder encouragingly. "I bet you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. You wouldn't have caught Morgue's attention otherwise."

With another sweet smile, Iris left me alone. I thought about what she said while I showered and gave myself a thorough going over. I wasn't sure how long I'd been in that hellhole, but I hadn't bathed the entire time I was there. I knew I looked a fright and was surprised I hadn't fretted about it until now. But my hair was so tangled and matted, I doubted there was any way I'd ever get it brushed out.

I was in the shower for a good thirty minutes. Probably longer. I still didn't feel clean. I doubted all the hot water in the world was going to help, either. My head still wasn't clear. Occasionally, I'd get dizzy, especially with the hot water. But there was no way I was cooling it down. I'd never get clean otherwise.

So, I'd sat on the small bench in the corner of the shower and continued to scrub with more and more soap. Every part of my body. I shaved everything but the hair on my head, which would likely follow later.

By the time I was finished, I'd used half the bottle of shower gel and nearly that much shampoo and conditioner. My skin was red where the water had scalded me. Other than the hopeless mess of my hair, I felt a little better.

The clothes Iris had left for me were wonderful. She'd brought me some sweats, shorts, and three T-shirts, as well as a pair of jeans, socks, and a couple pairs of shoes. One was a pair of motorcycle boots that looked brand-new, the other a pair of canvas shoes with no laces. Looked like they were planning on me staying for the long haul.

I dressed quickly in the sweats and a shirt. I kept the canvas shoes close, but I didn't really plan on going anywhere unless I had to. I was still battered both mentally and physically. And I still had no idea how long I'd been a captive. Besides all that, my belly was really cramping, and I was sweating and shaking and felt like complete shit.

No sooner had I sat down, completely spent after my long shower, then there was a knock at the door.

"It's Iris. Me and Blossom brought food."

I took a breath. Letting strangers in was hard, but these were women, and they were only trying to help. Standing, I crossed to the door and opened it to find the two women with trays laden with more food than I could imagine eating in a week.

"We brought several things so you could choose." The woman I didn't know set her tray down on the coffee table before sticking out her hand to me. "I'm Blossom. Walker is my man. Well" -- she waved her hand in the air dismissively -- "when I claim him. He's a tad ornery. Sometimes I have to kick him in the balls."

I'd shut the door when they entered, but now there was a high-pitched whine and something scratching at the door. I frowned but opened the door again and a dog slunk in, tail between her legs as she looked at me, then hurried to Blossom and lay at the woman's feet.

"Oh, sorry." Blossom gave me an apologetic smile. "Sparkle doesn't like to be away from me. I should have said something, but I honestly don't even think about it anymore. She's always there. I can put her outside if you don't want her in your space."

"No. It's fine. Really." I smiled and squatted down, holding out my hand to the dog. Sparkle crawled over to me, still whining, and tentatively sniffed, then licked my fingers. Then her tail wagged and she moved closer. I rubbed her head and silky ears and the dog looked like she was in heaven.

"Awww, she likes you." Blossom was so genuinely pleased, I couldn't help but smile back at her.

"She's very friendly."

"Sometimes she is. Walker tried to sell her when she was a puppy and she's never forgiven him for it."

"What?" I looked up at her with wide eyes. "Your husband tried to sell your dog?"

"Well, to be fair, he'd already sold the dog before I came along. But Sparkle and me went through shit together and bonded."

"Right," Iris said with a roll of her eyes. "Not Walker's finest moment as I recall."

"He still pays for it when I get miffed at him." Blossom gave Iris a smug smile. "But I love it when he makes it up to me all over again."

Iris snorted. "Yeah. I bet you do." The women giggled. I loved the banter between the two. It was like my roommates at college. That thought made me stiffen. They were like my roommates in college. Which hurt me more than I was willing to admit. Even to myself.

Immediately, Blossom's features grew alarmed. "Dorothy? I'm sorry if we said something to make you uncomfortable. The men here aren't bad. Not by a long shot."

"I'm fine." I was lying through my teeth.

Iris watched me carefully before shaking her head slowly. "I don't think you're fine at all. What do you need? Do you want us to leave?"

"No. Yes. I don't…"

"It's all right," Blossom said. "You don't have to know. Do you want Morgue? Or Stitches?"

"Alone," I gasped. "I want to be…"

"OK. We're leaving," Blossom said, rising slowly. "If you need us or anyone else, just go to the common room. Anyone you see can help you find it, but it's really just at the end of the hall and around the corner."

Sparkle whined and licked at my ankle which, oddly, helped lessen the oppression in the room. I felt like I could breathe easier. I sat back in a nearby chair and Sparkle laid her chin on my knee and looked up at me with a forlorn expression. Like I'd hurt her very last feeling.

I couldn't help it. There was no way I was not accepting the puppy's affection. I sighed, and petted the dog's head, running my hand over and over her head and down her ears once more. She still whined a little, scooting closer and closer to me until, the next thing I knew, she'd climbed up in my lap and laid her head on my arm like a child.

"Well. That's new," Blossom said with a grin. "She's usually only that way with me. And only when Walker does something to piss me off. Most of the time, she's content to lay against me or beside me. When she crawls up in my lap like that, though, she knows I'm feeling it and need some love."

"I didn't mean for her to --"

"No! Not a word. This is what Sparkle does. She's empathetic to the point she has to fix whatever's wrong. The only way she knows how to do that is to love or fight. And there's no one here for her to fight so… Love it is."

"She's helping." I tried to smile but was sure it was a little strained. "Things… were bad where the others found me. I have no idea how long I was there or exactly what they did to me, but I was lured there. By people I thought were my friends."

"It's all right." Iris looked as reassuring as she could given the circumstances. "When someone you've trusted betrays you, it makes it hard to trust strangers."

Shock pulsed through me as I looked at her. "You really do know. Don't you?" There was something in her expression that said she did. It wasn't hurt so much as fury.

"Before Sting brought me here, me and my sister, Jerrica, were in a group home." She gave me a tight smile. "An orphanage. Our parents were dead. We had no family except each other. When I turned sixteen, I got an emergency emancipation, hoping to give myself a couple of years so I could adopt Jerrica out of the home. A little over a year later, I took Jerrica to a Christmas party at a club in Lake Worth, Florida, called Black Reign MC. They always have a huge community Christmas party and make sure all the group homes in the area are there every day they can be until Christmas. Lasts pretty much the whole month of December." She smiled like she was remembering a particularly special moment before continuing.

"Anyway, the night of the actual Christmas party, when I took Jerrica back, they said they adopted her out. That they didn't tell me or her it was going to happen so there was less drama or something. When I came back the next day -- I was there every day, no matter what -- they told me she was gone. They said she'd been adopted. In reality, they'd sold her to a trafficking ring."

"Oh, my God! No!"

"Seems hard to believe, I know. I ran back to the only place I could think of to help. Black Reign. Sting was there because he needed to talk to Warlock. Warlock is Sting's father. He'd resigned as Iron Tzars' president and Black Reign wanted him at their club." She waved her hand dismissively. "Not important. Sting was there when I came running to the compound. He heard my tale and offered to help. El Diablo, the president of Black Reign, accepted the offer, and they rescued Jerrica and all the other children who'd been sold from the group home."

"What you're saying is, the men here are good guys."

"Yes, but mostly I'm saying I understand why you'd find it hard to trust people you don't know. Especially after being betrayed by people you did know."

"Thanks, Iris." I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Everyone here has been nothing but good to me." I tried to chuckle. "Except for the catheter. Stitches did it because I needed it, I suppose. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Sparkles whined, bringing my attention back to her. "Sparkles, if you weren't already spoken for, I'd keep you with me." She licked at my hand before jumping out of my lap and going back to Blossom to sit at her feet. I smiled. "Well, she might be a great therapy dog, but she is firmly yours."

Blossom smiled at Sparkles. "She is. But she'll stay with you if you need her to."

"No. I think I'm fine. You can sit down and eat with me if you want." I looked at all the food. There were hamburgers, hotdogs, baked beans, coleslaw, and all kinds of fruit and vegetables to eat with dressing. Then there was sweet tea, milk, beer, and water and electrolyte drink packs for the bottled water. "Wow. I hope you didn't expect me to eat all this."

Blossom grinned. "I expect you to eat what you want. If there are leftovers, I'm sure someone around here will eat them. They always scavenge. Anything not already growing penicillin is fair game." She wrinkled her nose. "Kinda gross, actually."

That got us all to giggling. I felt lighter, but still not entirely comfortable. And I didn't really know what to do to make it better.

"Everything all right in there?"

Blossom and Iris grinned at each other. Iris answered before I could say anything. "I don't think Dorothy's feeling well."

There was a brief pause, then the doorknob jiggled. "Open up."

"Is that Morgue?"

Iris winked at me. "Sure is. Now, don't you worry, honey. Just sit back and let things happen."

Blossom nodded. "It's the easiest way."

"Let what happen?"

"I'm coming in." Morgue's voice was harsh, angry sounding. I had the chance to suck in a breath when the lock on the knob snapped and Morgue charged inside. "What happened?" His gaze found me the second he was in the room. "How'd you hurt yourself?"

Blossom stood. "Will you be OK with Morgue?"

I blinked up at her, not sure what to think or feel. "I think so? Maybe?"

"Of course, she'll be OK with me," Morgue snapped. His focus turned to me and he looked me up and down. "What's wrong? What hurts?"

"What?" Was this really happening right now?

"She said you're not feeling well. What's wrong?" There was no doubt his questions were actually demands. His eyes were wide, and he shoved a hand through his hair. "Well?"

"I, uh, well, I think I might be having some withdrawals?" I looked up at the women who were waiting to make sure I was good with them leaving me with Morgue. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Iris, get Stitches. Tell him Dorothy needs stuff."

"Stuff," Iris said, covering a grin by clearing her throat. "Got it."

Blossom gave a little finger wave. "You kids have fun." Then she and Iris left. Sparkle gave me a "wuff" and licked my ankle again before moving in the direction of the door. She paused and looked at Morgue on her way, baring her teeth and growling once before continuing after Blossom.

"Well," I said, not sure what was supposed to happen next. "That was… interesting."

"Sit down," Morgue bossed. "Where does it hurt?"

"I think I'm fine. But my stomach hurts. Just kind of, I don't know, cramps. Little nauseous."

"You're trembling." He knelt in front of me where I sat, taking my hands in his. "You're sweating, too." Morgue got me a bottle of water and opened it for me. "Drink this."

"You're kind of bossy."

Morgue just grunted. He took out his phone and sent off a text before focusing back on me. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Since I woke up. I get dizzy sometimes, but I figured it was the drugs still in my system."

"Probably." He stared at his phone, frowning. "Fuckin' bastard. Answer my fuckin' text." He tapped at his phone again, looking up at me occasionally, like it was important for him to keep an eye on me. He swore again as he looked at the screen. Then he punched something else before putting the phone to his ear. Making a call. "Where the fuck are you, Stitches?" I heard the other man speaking from the phone, but Morgue cut him off. "Never mind. Get to my room. Now. Dorothy's sick."

"Quit your bitchin', you big bastard." Stitches entered the room, rolling his eyes as he moved to my side, crouching down and placing a duffel bag on the floor. "I can't teleport from the common room."

"You were taking too long."

"It took me less than two minutes."

Morgue shrugged. "Felt longer."

Stitches pulled out a bag of fluids and a bunch of other things. "You realize you're going into withdrawal. Right? Do you know how long you were there?"

"Uh, not really. What day is it?"

"The twenty-third."

I blinked. "Wow. I thought it was longer than that. Way longer. We got there on the fifteenth." I tried to grin, playing it off like a bad joke. "Worst Spring Break ever."

Morgue shot Stitches a sharp look. "Right." He crouched down so he wasn't looming over me.

"Yeah." I looked back and forth between them. "My roommates talked me into going to Cancún. Didn't I tell you that?"

"Yeah, but I didn't realize you thought it was still March or April."

Dread crept through me, and chill bumps broke out over my arms. "So it's the twenty-third… of May?"

Stitches winced and Morgue reached out, resting his hand on my knee, palm up. Obviously wanting me to take his hand. So I did. "No, baby." Morgue closed his hand around mine and took a breath. "It's June."

I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. I shook my head. "That's not possible." My voice was barely above a whisper.

"OK." Stitches took out his phone and sent off a text, all business now. "Couple things need to happen now. First, I'm getting you some stronger antibiotics than what I've already given you. Then I'm setting you up a different IV with some vitamins and electrolytes. Should help keep you hydrated." He shook his head slightly. "I can't give you anything for the pain other than some anti-inflammatories. I'll keep open the possibility of starting you on a five-day course of Suboxone, but I don't want to use it unless I have to. I don't like treating narcotic withdrawal with another narcotic."

I was getting overwhelmed. OK, I was past overwhelmed and edging toward a full-blown panic attack. I'd been in that horrible place for more than two months! I could almost deal with the time frame. What I couldn't deal with was the haze over my memory. "I don't… I can't…" My breathing started coming in small gasps and my head, which had been aching before, now thumped mercilessly. "What did they do to me?"

"Don't think about it right now," Stitches said gently. "Let's just work through the main concerns one thing at a time."

I met Morgue's gaze and held it. The man looked fiercer than I'd ever seen him. The look on his face should have frightened me because he looked like he was ready to do murder, which he'd already admitted he was capable of. Instead, it grounded me. He wasn't angry at me. He was angry on my behalf. At least I hoped he was.

"Morgue." Stitches squeezed his shoulder. The other man flinched but allowed the contact. "Why don't you go get the women? She'd probably feel more comfortable without so much testosterone in the room."

"No." His denial was gruff, and his gaze didn't leave mine. His hold on my hand tightened fractionally, like he was afraid I'd pull away. "I'm stayin'."

"For Christ's sake, Morgue. She's been traumatized enough. They all have."

"I'm staying."

Stitches shook his head, but I spoke before he could. "I don't want Morgue to leave." I have no idea why I said it, but the second I did, I knew it was true. I felt safe when Morgue was with me. Probably because he carried me out of hell and protected me.

"All right, then." Stitches scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm still going to send Iris back. I'll be back with some more meds."

I nodded, the numbness over my emotions gone like ripping off a Band-Aid. The pain was sharp and intense, and I wanted to scream but didn't dare. The last thing I wanted to do was show more weakness in front of these people. They probably already thought I was stupid. Hell, I thought I was stupid.

When Stitches shut the door behind him, Morgue moved to sit beside me on the couch, then pulled me onto his lap and into his arms. Those big, muscular arms closed around me securely, but loosely and I just melted against him. The second I did that, all the grief, pain, and anger came flooding out of me.

I buried my face in his neck and screamed. Sweat erupted over my skin and I shook uncontrollably, the enormity of what I'd been handed too much to handle. I sobbed and bunched my fists in his shirt, clinging like he was my lifeline on a cliff. In a way, I suppose he was. Since I'd first become aware of what was happening, Morgue had been the one I'd looked to, to make sure everything was as good as it was going to get. I trusted him. I liked that he was protective of me, that he'd claimed me in a way. Maybe not for the long haul, but for now. And that was good enough for me. Because, despite knowing I'd been sold out, despite all the pain I'd gone through because I'd trusted the wrong people, something inside me needed this man. A man I didn't know, but a man who'd gotten me out of hell. If I couldn't trust Morgue, there was no one in the world I could trust.

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