Forgiving Nancy (Last Hangman MC, #5)(17)
“STOP, IT HURTS!” I scream.
“That’s good, pain is good.” He grunts and smacks my ass again. I squirm to try and free myself from his grip, but he’s just too strong. I kick my legs and must manage to hit him because I hear him grunt and the paddle drop. I stumble to my feet and grab the paddle from the floor. He lunges at me and I strike out with the paddle. I make contact with his head which knocks him off balance and I don’t think twice before running back up the stairs that leads to the front door as quickly as I can. Shit, I can’t remember if the bastard locked the door or not. I try to push it open a few times without much luck, but then I realize that he pushed it open when we came down. I pull it open and sigh in relief as it opens and I make it through the door. I close the door behind me and grab a fire poker before pushing it through the door handles so it gives me more time to escape.
I pull my dress down so it’s actually covering my ass and pull off my heels before running out of the house. Unfortunately, I left my bag behind, not that there was much in it, but it did have a phone in it that would call John to come pick me up instantly if I’m in trouble.
I run down the street, trying to find someone to help me. I doubt anyone would listen to me or let me in their homes when I look like this, look what I am, a prostitute but I have to try. It’s in that moment that I really realize what my life has become. It finally sinks in just how far I’ve fallen. I don’t look back for a second and keep running away from the life I’ve known for past five years. I need to put as much distance between me and it as I possibly can, as soon as I can.
I don’t know how long I’ve been running but my feet are killing me, thanks to my lack of shoes, I’m out of breath and I’m drained. I slow down a little and jog into a sea of people on Bourbon Street.
The crowd will give me a great cover and I’ll be able to step into a bar and call for help. Fuck, who would I call? I can’t call my parents; I don’t want them to find me and I highly doubt they’d come anyway. Something tells me that Bennett wouldn’t have the same number and I don’t know anybody else’s phone number. I guess my best bet would be to call the cops, they would listen to me, but they’d then drive me back to my parents. Even though I’m of age, they’d bring me back to the people who haven’t been family for a long time.
I quicken my pace and get lost in my thoughts when I run into a brick wall and fall on my ass, wincing as the already tender skin hits the ground. I scurry to my feet and look up at the offending wall.
The vision of what my worst nightmares and sweetest dreams are made of is standing in front of me.
What I ran into isn’t a wall.
What I ran into is Bennett f*cking Sawyer.
Holy. Shitballs.
Bennett. My Bennett
It’s been five years but he looks exactly the same. He still has the same hazel eyes and the same perfect lips that form into a smile when he recognizes me but soon turn into an expression I’ll never forget. He looks heartbroken. I want nothing more than to comfort him, but I don’t have the time, I need to run. I take one last glance at him and try to go around him but his right arm darts my way and grabs my wrist. The grip is strong enough to hold me still, but not strong enough to cause pain. He pulls me to him and wraps me in his arms. I can feel his body shaking. I don’t know how he’s feeling right now but being in his arms, everything is erased; the hurt, the disgust, the pain, everything. Gone.
“Fuck me, that was fast.” I hear a voice say from behind Bennett and a few nervous chuckles follow. I don’t want to let go but the voice breaks me out of my Bennett trance and I force myself to pull away from him, much to his disapproval as he glares at me and refuses to let go of me.
“You were looking for me?” I ask as I look up into his eyes.
“Your parents called me a few hours ago,” Bennett says through gritted teeth.
“What?” Why would they want to look for me? Why now? I’ve been gone for five f*cking years! The last I’d heard, they had given up and buried me. I look between all of the guys that have surrounded us and notice that they’re all wearing the same cut. Now I’ve always known about MCs, especially for being ‘a part’ of one for the last five years, and his parents’ prior involvement in one, but being surrounded by so many members bring back some bad memories and I start to fidget in discomfort.
“Come, I’ll explain,” one of the men comes around to my side, places his hand between my shoulders and leads me away from the group. I look back at Bennett and see that doesn’t look too happy with the situation. Two of his friends are holding him back and his eyes are telling me that he wants to pound everyone around him into the ground.
“What do you want from me?” I look up at the man who lead me away from Bennett, scared that history is about to repeat itself. Surely Bennett wouldn’t let this happen to me?
“Relax, we don’t want to hurt you. I’m a friend of Bennett but he’s too riled up to make any sense or rational decisions right now and we need to know what’s going on and get you somewhere safe,” the man says in a kind and soothing tone.
“Why would you help me? You don’t know me.”
“Because you’re Bennett’s, which means you’re family to us.” He shrugs.
“I haven’t been Bennett’s for four years,” I tell him sadly.