Hard Rider

The sight of him burned terror into my mind.

“Sally!” Roger grinned. “And you brought our little one…”

“I’m gonna head down to the store and let you two get reacquainted,” Mom smiled, glancing from him to me. I felt something inside me struggle to scream; it was caged up, struggling to penetrate this damning haze. “Roger, be a dear and teach this girl some proper manners.”

No. You CAN’T leave. Don’t do this to me!

I bitterly tried to say something – anything – but the words came out sideways. Mother just smiled and gave Roger a pat on the arm, thanking him for coming before stepping out the door.

I sat there in stunned silence, my vision pulling into a tunnel. Time seemed to stretch forever. Roger found himself a seat on mother’s recliner and waited patiently.

Five minutes passed, then ten. The medicine had taken hold. I was slipping away, just like I always did…

“I see you’re scared,” he said, his voice full of malice. “You never should have run away, my little Angel…”

My mouth was moving, but no sounds were coming out.

“I’ve missed you, babygirl,” Roger grinned. “It’s been too long. I thought I’d never see you again… but here you are. We’re back where we should be… together.”

A memory flashed into my head.

It was the night that Trent took me away from Riverton. I the early hours of the morning, with the sun rising ahead of us, he was driving so quickly. I’d almost blacked out from the anxiety of being brought back to the accident… but I’d focused on the logo on his dashboard.

I had made it my stone.

It had kept me hanging on.

Roger was the demon from my past, threatening to engulf me again. If I was a fallen, burning Angel, casting myself down into the dirt from the life Trent tried to show me, then he was Satan himself.

The words came back, whispered into my soul.

I will be no burning Angel.

My eyes focused onto his, unwilling to lose to him. I could barely form the thoughts, but they came, pushing through the darkness. No matter what he might do to me – what he might take from me – he was not going to have my soul.

Maybe Trent would have deserved it. He’d pulled me up from the shattered, meaningless life I’d been living. Maybe he would have changed. He had the capacity for kindness and generosity, deep inside that arrogant mind of his.

But I’d fled the safety of his arms, because I thought I was bringing him down… but also because I knew I didn’t deserve it. Because I didn’t want him to have that kind of power over me, neither him nor anyone else.

What had that gotten me?

I’d been trapped here, with my mortal enemy. But now, even though my body’s sluggishness was going to betray me, I knew more than ever that I would never give in.

I will be no burning Angel.

“How much do you remember, sweetheart?” Roger asked, carefully watching me and grinning ear to ear.

“Stay… Stay away…” I managed to barely murmur, the words sounding far less coherent as they left my throat. “You can’t… I won’t let you…”

He laughed heartily.

Of course I didn’t have any control here.

That didn’t mean that I’d go down without a fight. Even if I didn’t have an ounce of strength in my veins, I’d resist whatever vile things my stepfather had in mind… I would never give in.

“Don’t worry,” Roger said, reaching out to the little table next to the recliner. He lifted up the bottle of pills mother had given me, glancing at it and giving it a little shake. “When I’m done tonight, you won’t remember anything ever again.”

Something snapped inside me. I couldn’t move… I couldn’t fight him… but I channeled every last drop of resistance I had into my final act of defiance.

I did the only thing I could… I screamed.

Trent

Without a second of hesitation, I threw my weight into the door, tearing it free from its rotten hinges in a burst of splinters and debris.

There she was. Angel was looking up at me from the floor with wide, glazed eyes full of surprise and sudden recognition. Her scream had been cut short by my sudden arrival, but a new sound had risen up in its place.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The voice was cold and fierce, but as I turned, the man who spoke them looked neither of those things. He was older and frail, but Old Greg had been wise enough to give me a physical description of Angel’s monster. Without another word, I knew what a piece of shit I was staring at.

“Hello, Roger,” I grit my teeth.

Confused and furious, he tried to clamor to his feet from the recliner. I was faster, knocking his ass straight back into the chair. With his filthy, oily head slumped to the side, Roger was out like a goddamned light.

He deserved worse. It took every last ounce of self-control to resist snapping his thin little neck in front of her.

“Get up, Angel. We’re getting out of here,” I said, looking back to my girl against the floor. She didn’t respond or make any move to climb to her feet.

“…Angel?”

Something was very, very wrong.

Angel was mumbling to herself as I kneeled down next to her. I could already see that she was a pale reflection of her former self… as if the life had been sucked out of her.

“What the hell did they do to you?” I questioned, hauling her up into my arms. Her limp, dead weight brought my rising worry to new, horrified levels.

Angel’s head rolled to the side, but she weakly shrugged her shoulder to the side. When she did it again, moving her head with the motion, I followed the direction to the bottle of pills.

They fucking drugged her.

“Stay with me. I’m getting you out of here.”

I thought quickly, deciding I’d need to show this bottle to someone. Maybe I could get her a counteracting agent if she didn’t pull back from this soon… and it would certainly give us ammunition against her parents.

We can cross that bridge when we come to it.

She smiled weakly as I snatched up the pills, then walked her out to the bike and secured her on the back of the seat. My suspicions were confirmed as I held her steady – there was no way in hell that she’d be able to hang on. Improvising, I pulled my belt off and used it to strap her tighter against the backrest. Climbing on, I fired up the machine and felt her grip me weakly.

We have to get out of here.

Out of this town, out of this goddamned state…

As I twisted the throttle and started down the road, the blast of a shotgun went off behind us. Frail bastard that he was, Roger must have managed to get up out of his goddamned chair.

“Hang on!”

I gunned it around the first turn and blasted down the nearly abandoned roadways. Angel’s arms tightened around my chest just enough to let me know she was there. I sure as hell wasn’t going to waste my time looking for police in this Podunk little town. I needed to get Angel somewhere safe, then we could figure out what happened back there.

The biting wind seemed to bring Angel back, miles ticking by as she pressed herself against my back, her strength ever so slowly returning.

That’s my girl…

I rode long and hard, putting as much distance behind us as I could. My destination was well in mind. Angel and I were leaving Alabama behind… tonight. But there was no way I could do that without giving Old Greg another chance to see his granddaughter, safe and sound.

“You came for me…” Angel whispered softly as we came to a stop outside the old Riverton Bar. Her legs shook lightly as she stepped off the bike, but she quickly gained her footing. She didn’t even need to lean on me that much.

Sure, the motorcycle had presented a logistical problem at first… but the wind had done wonders to snap her back out of that drug-fueled cloud.

“What the hell did they do to you

, Angel?” I asked, looking her over. “Are you hurt? Did he harm you?”

“I think I’m okay now. Mom gave me some of my anxiety pills…” She sounded weak still, but at least she could hold a conversation. It was progress that I was willing to take. “She said she just wanted to calm me down. I didn’t really have any withdrawal symptoms before, but I guess my body forgot how to hold them like I used to…”

“And that sick fuck, Roger?”

“I think he was going to kill me,” she replied, her voice quiet and fearful.

“That will never happen,” I snarled. “There’s no statute of limitations on the things he’s done. Soon as we get back, you’re reporting that bastard. I don’t care what it costs, I don’t care how long it takes, we’re taking him down.”

Angel glanced up at me, strands of her hair falling in front of her eyes. I was afraid that she was going to resist me on this, but the night had sapped her strength. Instead, she surprised me: “Do you really mean that, Trent?”

My resolve hardened. Even if I hadn’t just walked in on a complete atrocity, the forlorn, hopeful look in her eyes only made me more infuriated. How can someone hurt somebody like this? “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire fucking life.”

Quietly, a small smile crossed her lips.

I took Angel by the hand and walked her away from the bike, my other arm around her shoulder. Her footing only slipped slightly twice as we crossed the gravel towards the front door of the old, decrepit saloon.

Old Greg was tending at the Riverton Bar when we stepped in from the darkness. Angel was still a bit shaky on her feet, and he faltered at the sight of her, instantly abandoning his patrons. A silence fell over everyone as they turned and recognized their usual, plucky bartender – trembling and clutching onto me in the doorway for support.

“Angel!” He held back tears, hobbling around to greet us. “You’re back!”

She looked at him strangely for a moment, then back to me. “Old Greg, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. I just couldn’t look you in the eye.”