Saved By The King~Savage Kings MC~

1: Runaway

I slide down against the wooden door as I hold back the tears that are begging to fall. I don't cry. I don't allow it. Other people have it worse, no matter what situation I'm in someone else has it worse than me. I don't need to have a pity party for myself.

The thuds of a fist pounding on the door behind me doesn't reach my ears but beats in to my already aching body. I hear nothing by the time the shock drags me under like always. I fight it trying to keep afloat.

"OPEN UP!" My father yells through the door.

I don't respond, my eyes locking on my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror across from where I am sitting on my bedroom floor. My eye is black, red marks mar my throat from my father's hands, and blood trickles down my face from my temple to chin. It could be mine or it could be his from where I bit his hand and then he wiped it on me.

"IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR IN THE NEXT TEN SECONDS YOU'RE DEAD!" My brother yells but I don't even bother with obeying. I need to leave.

I don't know where I'll go, but it won't be here for another second longer. Or maybe I should let them break the door down and finish off the job for me. Dying is easy when the only thing left to kill is the physical body. They blame me, my father and brother have blamed me for her death the second I walked through the door that night alive.

Dragging myself to a stand I grab my desk chair and wedge it under the door knob to make sure if they kick the locked door in it won't be easy. With the shape I'm in right now I need as much time as I can spare to get my shit and scale down the side of the house to the lawn below.

"I'M GONNA START COUNTING!" My father yells kicking me into action.

I break for the small closet holding what few clothes I still have without blood on them and shove them into the bag at my feet. I grab my shoes, two sweatshirts, and whatever else is in the small space. I run around until I have what I think is a nessecity before sprinting as fast as my body will carry me to the window.

"TEN!" I hear dad yell.

Shit.

I get the window open.

"NINE!"

Before he can get to eight I'm already out the window and holding on the the lattice like a ladder and stepping down.

My bedroom door splinters in making me jump but I don't stop. I can't stop.

"You'll come back you whore!" My brother yells from my window as my feet hit the ground in a running start. They won't see me again. If they do I'll be deader than a door nail. 

Grunting through the pain running up my sides I push on to the street running into town. I don't know where I'm going to go, but hopefully I'll figure it out. I can't go to Joy's house since my father long ran her off after the first time she came over after school.

That was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made. That night I laid in bed unable to move. I was sure that beating had broke my back and paralyzed me. But here I am. Running.

When I think I'm far enough away I duck into an alley and slump to the ground against a green dumpster. I just need to catch my breath real quick. The smell of greasy food makes my stomach growl and groan but I ignore it. No way in hell would I even think about going into the restaurant behind me. Not looking like this. I couldn't possibly.

After another ten minutes of trying to get my breath I decide it's time to move again. Ribs screaming in pain I drag myself to my feet before lifting the duffle bag over my head and walking towards the end of the alley.

Just as I get to the mouth of the alley I hear a motorcycle roar by and on instinct alone I duck back out of sight. Another three follow and I wait for them to clear my path before venturing out again.

Putting my head down I start down the street trying not to show my face. It's late afternoon, the sun threatening to drown me in darkness, but that also means that anyone could see the marks on me. I need to get to the truck stop about a mile away on the other side of town and use the showers.

Lost in thought, I step into the street and regret it as soon as my bare feet hit the asfalt. Another motorcycle I didn't see comes out of no where and nearly clips me but I managed to jump back, my heel catching on the lip of the sidewalk sends me to the ground in a hard fall. I land ungracefully on my ass, the contact stinging up my tailbone and vibrating through my already damaged body. I do my best to come to terms with the sudden pain I'm feeling, my eyes shutting as I try to right myself.

"Fuck!" I someone says as the idle of a bike in front of me vibrates my eardrums.

"Are you..." The man's voice trails off as I feel him approach me.

"Fine. I'm fine." I say trying to get up and away from this man as quickly as possible. I didn't need the questions or the look I already knew he'd be wearing.

"The fuck you are." He snaps at me, squatting next to me so I can see more than just his jean covered knees and biker boots.

"I didn't do that did I?" He asks motioning to my face and neck.

Was he serious? How the hell would one fall cause this? I wanted to smack him.

"No." I say my voice scratchier than I remember.

I advert my eyes as soon as our gazes meet and I have the chance to really look him over. He was no doubt attractive in a dangerous way. Thick, long, black eye lashes frame dark brown almost black eyes, his lips are full and he has a dark head of hair that is unruly and pull-able. Every thought of yanking on his hair goes away when I find my eyes drifting to his vest. His leather vest. His biker vest that looked an awful lot like the ones my fathers club wears.

The sigh of relief I have to suppress when I find his rank and the fact it didn't read any of the garbage my fathers guys liked to wear is large. I knew this man was a biker from the moment his chopper almost hit me, but I at least know he shouldn't know me. Maybe of me, but not my face.

"Who the fuck did it to you?" He asks his voice hard and slightly angry. Great, he's a protector.

"Not you business biker." I basically growl managing to get to a stand without any help.

"Where you goin?" He asks yet another question, this time having to yell it at my back as I walk away from him.

"Places. Now you better catch up to your buddies." I need to get this blood off me like right now. This was the worst time and only time to escape. Why did I have to be daylight?

I'm making good headway in getting away from the biker when a rough hand snakes around my arm jerking me to a stop. Flinching I turn on him having to pull the punch I was preparing as I see it's the strange man again. Not my blood.

He either doesn't care that I was going to hit him or he didn't notice as he stops me.

"Wait hold on. Here." He takes a pen out of his pocket and writes his number on the inside of my arm.

"Call me if you need anything."

I don't respond, taking my arm from him after he writes the last number and walk away. I wasn't going to call him. I shouldn't have even let him write the number down. I can't have attachments since if I were to be found by my father it would be through other people around me.

Bet dear old dad is really kicking himself for not letting me have a phone. Not that I would have a reason to have a phone. Right now I'm glad for the beating I received over that question.

I continue down the street turning when I get to the end and push my tired legs to carry me to the truck stop.

I walk in pulling out the stash of cash I've been saving. Dad didn't know about it and somehow I managed to keep it that way.

"How may i-" the older gentleman behind the counter looks up, catching a good look at my face.

"I need to use the showers." I respond ignoring the wide eyed and concerned expression he is giving me along with the other people in here.

"Yeah... That'll be five dollars." I pull the five out and had it to him before taking the key from him and heading back to the shower he pointed to.

I let the water heat up before getting in and wincing as the hot water finds all the tiny little scrapes and cuts in my skin. I just need to remind myself this isn't anything new. I have had plenty of blood and bruises.