Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,58
now, okay?”
Fuck, but she’s a tiny thing, small for her age, still with some growing to do is my bet. Her eyes are red raw with crying. I suspect her tears will have been flowing for nearly twenty-four hours. The cloth tied around her mouth looks soggy with saliva, and she’s twitching as her body reacts to her fear.
“Let me get that horrible thing out of your mouth,” I suggest, moving another fraction nearer. “And we’ll get those hands freed.”
I wouldn’t have said I’ve much of a natural maternal instinct, but I don’t think you need to be female, just human, to want to reach out and hug Mona close, to reassure her the bad men are gone, and won’t be able to do any more to hurt her.
Pausing my movement, I wait until her eyes fix on mine, me trying to telegraph that she’s safe now.
“Let me help?” It’s important to me that she gives consent. Whatever’s been done to her so far has been without her agreement. Now she needs to have control given back, especially anything involving a stranger touching her.
She shudders, then gives me a small nod. It’s enough. I move closer. The knot on the rag is soaking wet. I’ve no desire to waste time trying to undo it, so instead, I carefully move behind her and take out one of my knives, and the gag falls away.
Snatcher passes me something, and I take it. It’s a clean tissue, so I use it to quickly wipe away the excess saliva that’s pooled around her mouth.
“Better?”
She’s still too scared, too cautious to speak, but with a small jerky movement, her head bobs up then down.
“Here, Swift.”
Turning I raise my hand, catching the item Snatcher’s thrown to me. It’s a universal handcuff key and will work to undo those cuffs fastening her to the bed. After I do, Mona flexes her arms which I notice have sore red rings around her wrists. I swallow back down the rage that rises.
Mona rubs her sore eyes, and brushes the back of her hand against her runny nose. I pass another of Snatcher’s tissues to her, and she noisily blows it.
Then, finally, in between sobs and in a hoarse voice, she speaks. “I want my mommy.”
“Sure you do, sweetheart. And we’re taking you to her right now, okay?” I hold out my arms and she throws herself into them.
For a moment, I just hold her, knowing she’ll relish the human touch given with kindness. She’ll have been through hell the last twenty-four hours. I’m just grateful we hadn’t taken any longer.
I’ve been in her situation. In my case, I was restrained as part of my torture that was preparing me for service in the SAS. The ordeal had provided me with the tools to know I’d be able to mentally survive should I ever be held against my will in a real situation.
But poor Mona had no idea what was coming or how to mentally prepare, how to somehow divorce her mind from the discomfort and stay positive. She’d had no tricks to sustain her, and no hope that rescue would ever appear.
She’ll need therapy, and will maybe have nightmares for ever.
But she’s been given back her future. She’s going home to her family, and that’s down to our team.
14
Road…
Like most of the men, I stay well in the background while Swift comforts the kid. Christ knows what she’s been through since she was taken when, probably without a care in the world, she walked home from her friend’s house last night. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride that along with these men, we’ve set her world back to rights. Or, as right as it can be now she’s seen some of the worst of human behaviour. We’d saved her from the ultimate fate, but who knows how these men have verbally taunted her?
With therapy and support, I hope she’ll come right, if her parents are good to her. The signs are there that they are, calling on us to save her. That right there reminds me I’ve a number of questions I need answering, like how the parents knew to contact the Satan’s Devils and ask for their help. But that can wait until later. Being a Devil myself, I know there’s a more pressing issue which needs to be addressed. Like the three dead men out in the living area.
I step beside Snatcher and ask quietly, “What do we do about cleanup?”