Gotta long chapter for you guys
An old face, a little blood
Enjoy ;3

Chapter 17:
"You are trying to kidnap what I have rightfully stolen and I think it quite ungentlemanly."
―William Goldman, The Princess Bride

The morning after Kip's patch-in party could only be described as perfect. The blissful high that came after a night of steamy intimacy was met with a steady buzz of the deep feelings I had for Kip. I enjoyed the feeling for as long as I could because his feelings for me were still unknown and as pessimistic as it sounds, I felt like he was going to break things off when he woke up. When he did get up, he just out and said he loved me. I thought I'd be relieved and happy to hear him say those words, but I wasn't. I felt like he was saying it just because I did and that wasn't right.

Kip told me that he's been in love with me for a little while now and he kept telling me he loved me as he kissed every inch of skin on my body. That morning, we had lazy, tender sex and he kept telling me he loved me until I had no reason to doubt him, but that only made me want him more. I managed to get a few more rounds out of him before he was drained and he joked about having to learn to say 'No' to me.

After we managed to get out of bed and took a shower together, he asked me if I'd stay with him until tomorrow when he had to go back to work and I said I would. We had breakfast and took his rental to my house so I could pack an overnight bag. Diesel was happy to see me and after giving him some love, I went to see if Dad was home. He was sleeping in with a Crow Eater and I left him a note on the fridge telling him where I'd be until tomorrow.

On the drive, Kip told me he needed to make a pit stop and he parked in front of a shop, telling me to bring my art books. I was still in the dark about what the hell he had planned, but when we went inside the tattoo parlor, he introduced me to Irish Freddy as Chibs' daughter and while he was getting a new tattoo, the tattoo artist was flipping through the pages of my sketches. He didn't seem impressed by any of them, but he didn't look appealed either.

When he finished, he finally cracked a smile and asked me when I could get to work.

Irish Freddie took me on a tour of his parlor and told me the names of all the equipment he and the other tattoo artists use. He taught me what equipment could be cleaned after use and which tools had to be thrown away, then he led me to his station where his personal tattoo machine was. He took it apart, sterilized it and put it back together with step-by-step instructions, then asked me to try to mimic everything he just did. When everything was cleaned, in place and I tested the pedal, hearing the buzz, I couldn't stop smiling and Irish Freddy looked impressed with how quickly I was learning.

Freddy told me I could come back whenever I had some free time and he'd teach me everything I needed to know about his profession. Once we left the parlor, I was already tugging at Kip's shirt to find his new tattoo. He actually got 2. The first one was on his right pec. The Reaper was in the middle and there were 2 scrolls above and below it. The bottom one read 'Reaper Crew' and the top one had 'EST. 1967 SOA Original.' The next one was a bigger and more detailed Reaper on his bicep. On the ride back to his house, Kip was asking me about what Freddy taught me so far and I was telling him up until I noticed there was a motorcycle riding up next to us.

When we came to a red light, Jasmine was daydreaming with her head on Juice's back and when I rolled the window down to wave my hand in front of her face, she didn't even blink. Juice said they were going to grab something to eat and insisted we all go on a double-date. We followed him to a Mexican restaurant and when he cut the engine of his bike, Jaz finally came back to earth. While we were waiting for our food, Kip showed off his new ink and while Juice was cracking corny jokes that Jasmine was genuinely laughing at. Unknown to them, Kip was trying to get his hands in my pants under the cover of the table.

Before we left, I pulled Jasmine into the bathroom, locked us in there and refused to let her out until she told me what was going on between she and Juice. It was obvious that they both liked each other and she told me that she and Damien weren't ever getting back together, but she wasn't rushing into a relationship with Juice. For now, they were just having fun with one another, but she made it clear that she was going to shove her entire arm up his ass if he caught something from a Crow Eater and gave it to her.

We parted ways and when we got back to Kip's house, it was nighttime. As soon as we walked in the door, Kip had me up and over his shoulder only to put me on the couch. Apparently, I was teasing him all night and he was going to show me just how bad he wanted me.

Kip's vacation time was over and we were on our way to the clubhouse now, but he's been acting a little weird since this morning. I thought he'd be in a pretty touchy mood from what happened last night, but he's been avoiding me a bit. He wasn't pushing me away, but he wasn't being as intimate as he'd usually be when we were alone. I've seen him grabbing at his crotch every few seconds too.

Kip pulled into TM and I noticed how crookedly he parked his Dyna, but I didn't say anything about it. We dismounted, I tugged my handbag on my arm and on our way to the clubhouse, Kip was tugging at his pants again. It looked like he was trying to get a frontwards wedgie out.

"Are you okay?" I asked, stopping in front of him. He looked like he was forcing himself not to mess with his crotch and when he nodded, I cocked an eyebrow. "You've been grabbing yourself since this morning."

"I'm fine...think it's just my jeans or something."

"Your jeans or your plastic nut?"

"It's not plastic!" He vindicated and I smiled at how defensive he was. "It's like a breast implant. It's a sack of chemical water or something."

"The doctor said you'd be feeling some discomfort around this time. Did you get the pills?"

"Yeah...they're not working..."

"Kip, maybe you should go back and let Dr. Caldwell check it."

"I just gotta get used to it, never had an implant before." Kip gave me a halfhearted smile and I frowned at it. "I'm fine, Marceline." He reassured, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead of me.

With a sigh, I gave in and Kip took my hand, but I caught him yanking his crotch again. Kip held the door open and we stepped inside the clubhouse, seeing some Crow Eaters cleaning up the place. It looked like a bar fight broke out and there was a man sitting at the bar with Piney. The older man had his elbows on the bar and he raised a glass to us.

"What happened here?" I asked, motioning to the sweetbutts.

"Lover's quarrel." He chuckled, patting the blonde next to him on the back. He was wearing a kutte, so he was a Son and he turned around to face us. The man had jaggy champagne-blond hair and baby-blue eyes that reminded me of Clay's aged ones, but Clay didn't have a black eye, busted lip and cuts all over his face. "Might wanna get used to seein' his ugly mug around here." Piney laughed and pat the blond on the cheek, under his bruised eye, before sliding off his stool and heading out.

"You must be...Marceline?" The man asked and I nodded, still thrown off by what Piney said. The blond smiled at me and he looked way too nice to ever get into a fight with one of the club whores. They should know better than to piss off a Son anyway. The man extended his hand and I shook it. "I'm Kozik. I've been hearing about you the past couple days. Your Dad likes to brag."

"Not to be rude, but who did that to your face?" Kozik laughed at me and I could hear Kip snickering, but I was dead serious. I didn't want to see a whore's corpse stuffed in the freezer.

"My dearest Alexander." He replied, but he sounded like Jasmine sighing over Juice. "Beating my face in is how he shows how much he loves me."

"Fuck you, Kozik!" Tig's voice boomed from down the hall of dorms. "Take your dumb blonde ass back to Tacoma where you belong!"

"Love you too, sweetheart!" Kozik called back and I heard something made of glass break before Tara was telling Tig to sit down or she'd let him bleed to death. I guess she was getting him cleaned up back there. She sounded ticked off though. "I hear you're pretty good at drawing and stitching up wounds." Kozik asked, bringing my attention back to him.

"I'll let you look at my work while I'm patching you up if you promise not to bleed on the pages."

"Deal."

I was shaking my head at Kozik, already taking a liking to his lighthearted nature, but went behind the bar in search of the med kit and found it stocked. Kip said he was going to find Clay and leaned over the bar to give me a kiss. Kozik's eyebrows were almost as tall as a skyscraper and I knew I was blushing, but I asked him if he had a room and he led me to his temporary one. As promised, I started tending to his wounds while he was intently scanning the pages of my sketch book. He told me he really liked the zombie woman in lingerie, just like Dad did. I asked if he's seen him around and apparently, Dad was currently riding upstate to meet with some of the club's Irish associates because he was the only one who could drink them under the table. He didn't even tell me he was leaving...

I knew better than to ask what made Kozik come all the way down to California from Tacoma, but I was wondering. Maybe he was replacing Dad for however long he was on the road. Hearing Tacoma made me think of how I knew I've seen Happy before I came to Charming, but I just couldn't figure out where the hell I've seen his face. I did ask the visiting member why he and Tig were fighting and he laughed it off as the Sergeant-At-Arms having a problem with seeing old faces. Once he was patched up, he kindly thanked me and left to raid the fridge for a cold slab of meat to put on his eye.

I ventured into the hall and knocked on Juice's door, but nobody answered, so I guess he was out. The door next to Dad's room was opened and I peeked inside, seeing Tara putting her medical supplies back in her bag. The bathroom door was opened and Tara stopped what she was doing to listen.

"Stop picking the stitches!" She firmly ordered and I heard a groan from the connecting room, so this must be Tig's room. She shook her head and zipped her bag up, turning around and spotting me. She sighed when she did. "These men are driving me nuts. Tig and Kozik have been trying to kill each other for the past 2 days. I don't understand how one of them isn't dead yet."

"Boy will be boys." I offered and she groaned. I noticed how tired she looked, but followed her to Jax's dorm and saw Abel's stroller in here. The carseat was detached and sitting on the bed. Tara set her medical bag down and sat on the bed to check on the little Teller. "You should take a nap. I'll keep an eye on Abel."

"Thank you, Marceline." She sighed and fell back into the mattress, making me smile. Tara looked like such a Mom and when I first met her, I thought she already had a little family of her own, but it seemed like she was making one with Jax.

I spotted Abel's baby bag tucked in the basket of the stroller and grabbed it before grabbing his carseat and smiling down at him. It seemed like he was getting bigger by the day. I was cooing at Abel as I made my way into Kip's dorm and found it empty. I unstrapped Abel and grabbed some of his toys, sitting on the bed with his back against my stomach. I was laughing as Abel babbled and grabbed his colorful toys or shook his rattle.

After a while, I fed Abel and put him down for a nap. I kept checking on him, but I was doodling, glancing up whenever a Son walked by the opened door. I haven't seen Clay, Jax, Quinn or Juice and guessed they were out handing business. I did see Happy and he came in to ask if I went to see Irish Freddy, then we talked about tattoos for a minute. He even offered to find someone stupid enough to be my test dummy.

When Kip came in, he had a box in his hands and he smiled at me, but he was walking funny now, almost like a penguin would.

"You're waddling, Kip." I pointed out, keeping my voice low enough not to disturb Abel. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah...I'm alright..." I could hear the strain in his voice and he set the box on the dresser, leaning on it. "Actually, no, I'm not alright. I think something's wrong." I slid off the bed and went to him. Kip turned around and let me see his pained face, still gripping his crotch. "It kinda...burns...and it's not itchy, but it's uncomfortable." He asked me to look at what was wrong and unbuckled his jeans, letting them drop to the floor with his boxers. "Is it bad?"

"Sweet Jesus in Heaven." I muttered to myself upon seeing what he's been so irritated at all day. There was obviously something wrong with his implant because it sure as hell didn't look like that yesterday. "Kip...I think you need medical attention...it's swollen, really swollen."

"Dr. Caldwell said there'd be swelling." He tried and I tore my eyes from his crotch to look at him with stern eyes.

"It's almost the size of a nectarine, Kip. That's not normal. You can't keep carrying on with it being like this." As heartbroken as he looked, Kip nodded and pulled his pants up.

I spotted Opie in the hall and asked if he'd keep an eye on Abel for a second before I knocked on Jax's cracked door. Tara looked like she needed a few more hours of rest, but she got up and came to the door.

"Is Abel giving you trouble?" She asked, stifling a yawn.

"He's taking a nap, Ope's babysitting."

"What's wrong then?"

"There's something wrong with Kip's nut." The doctor lost her jaded demeanor and perked up. I pulled Kip into the room and Tara was still looking at us like we were crazy, but Kip looked like he was suffering from his implant.

"...I am a pediatric doctor." Tara clarified.

"Could you just look at it and give your medical opinion?" Kip pleaded.

"Um, I don't think I can- oh my God!" Kip dropped his pants and with a shred of modesty, he covered his junk, but Tara's eyes almost popped out of her head as she looked at his groin. "That is infected."

"I told you something was wrong." I scolded and Kip hung his head.

"Something is very wrong." Tara insisted and she blinked a few times before turning her head away. "You need to go to the ER, right now."

"I don't think I can make the trip to Fresno." Kip groaned, whimpering a little.

"The doctors at St. Thomas will be able to help you." Tara hastily blurted out, clearly not used to having Kip expose himself. "Just put a cold compress on it until you get there."

With a wary nod, Kip turned to me and I was about to pull his pants up, but the door opened. Clay and Bobby were coming in, probably looking for Jax, but they were rooted in place upon seeing their newest member.

"Holy Mary of ball." Clay exclaimed, his face twisting as Bobby cocked his head and was staring at Kip's crotch like he was examining a piece of art.

The men moved out of the way while I led Kip out of the room and into the kitchen. I rummaged around the freezer and found a few bags of frozen veggies, stuffing the icy sack down Kip's pants. He yelped, then shivered and I apologized, but was trying not to laugh. As serious as this was, it was kinda funny. Kip already had the keys to the van and he gave them to me while he got in the back to lay down. When we got to St. Thomas, Kip had defrosting corn, peas and spinach stuffed into his pants and he was hobbling now.

After explaining our dilemma to the receptionist and she reattached her jaw to her face, a team of doctors and nurses came to assist us and put Kip on a gurney. They let me follow him through a few double doors, then a nurse pulled me aside and told me I had to stay in the waiting room. After an hour of waiting and being accompanied by Tig, Piney and Juice, another nurse took me into the hall. She told me Chris was going to be fine and I mentally rolled my eyes at the fact that the Sons couldn't even use their real names at their town's hospital.

"He's gonna be alright." I announced to the Sons and sat down next to Piney. "He should be down in a minute."

"So, his fake nut...imploded?" Juice asked.

"I honestly don't know what happened, but something made it swell up. Tara said it was infected."

"Did it look like a real nut?" Tig asked with a little too much interest and Piney slapped him on the shoulder. "What? I didn't get to see it. I wonder if it was like fake boobs, like, how real ones jiggle and fake ones don't."

"What is wrong with you?" Piney asked, clearly disturbed at the dark-haired man's thought process. Tig just added more fuel to the fire when he started squeezing imaginary breasts...or nuts.

A couple minutes later, a woebegone Kip shuffled into the waiting room and we all followed him out. He wasn't hobbling anymore and he didn't look to be in any pain, but there was so much sadness in his eyes. Thankfully, Tig didn't pry about what happened or make any jokes and he mounted his bike with Juice and Piney. Once we were in the van, Kip finally told me what happened, that his body rejected the implant and if he would've ignored it like he was going to, he could've gotten Epididymitis or worse.

On the ride back to the clubhouse, I kept telling Kip that I didn't think any different of him and hoped my reassuring words were helping him to feel better. He told me he had to talk to me, so when we arrived, we went straight to his dorm.

"Marceline, I'm telling you this because I love you and I don't want you to be worried or scared." I was sitting on the edge of Kip's bed and he just stopped pacing to finally say something, stopping in front of me. Abel was missing, but I figured Tara took him or Gemma scooped him up. Up until he said that, I wasn't worried about what he wanted to talk about, but now I was a bit nervous. Kip got on his knees in front of me and took my hands in his. "Something's going down tonight and the club needs me."

"What's going on?"

"We've been having trouble with this group and tonight, we're gonna try to settle things. There's gonna be a fight. Me, Clay, Jax, Tig, Juice, Quinn, Happy, Koz and 2 of his guys from Tacoma against these scumbags. I want you to stay home and Miles is gonna be there to keep an eye you. Nothing's gonna happen to any of us and you'll see me tomorrow, I promise."

For a second, I just let what was going to happen sink in. Surprisingly, I wasn't shocked about the whole thing because it was something I was used to, just like when Zane would slip out of my old house to do what his gang needed him to do. I've seen Kip fight and I knew I wouldn't have to worry about him, but I was a little worried about the older Sons. I was glad to hear that Piney and Bobby weren't going to be involved with the scrap and I knew Tig was going to be just fine, but Clay was at the top of my concerns. I remembered how his hand reacted when he was giving me a gun lesson.

"Just be careful." I implored and Kip nodded, bringing me in for a hug.

Kip and I spent the next few hours together and I turned down his advances because I didn't think it was a good idea to fool around so soon after he just got his implant removed. From the moans I was hearing from the hall, the other Sons were saying goodbye to their Old Ladies. When someone knocked on the door, Kip told me it was time for me to go home and we walked outside to where everyone was sending the Sons off. Jax was loading Abel into Gemma's Cadillac and Tara came to tell me that she and Abel would be spending the night with Gem and their bodyguards, extending the invitation to me if I got lonely at home.

With a bunch of goodbye kisses and parting 'I Love Yous', I reluctantly separated from Kip and got on Miles' bike. The Prospect quickly took me home and he made sure everything was locked up, but he almost jumped out of his skin when I let Diesel in from the backyard. The pit didn't seem to like Miles because he wouldn't stop growling at him, but he stuck to me. I had mercy on Miles and made Pizza Casserole for dinner. He even tossed Diesel a pepperoni, but the dog didn't eat it. He was still staring the man down and I wondered why he was so impassive. He seemed like a friendly dog, but maybe Miles reminded him of his old owner.

Miles assured me that he'd be in the living room, armed and ready if anything happened. I got him a pillow, blanket and rummaged around in Dad's room for some clothes that would fit him. After a hot shower, I dragged a stubborn Diesel into my room to prevent him from stalking Miles and went to the edge of my bed to pray for the safety of all the Sons. I'd forgotten all about Mangus, but he was resting at the foot of my bed and I pulled him close, settling for him replacing Kip tonight.

~.~.~.~.

Diesel was at it again, waking his owner up at 2 AM with his growling. Marceline hoped he'd stop and just go investigate what had to be Miles going to the bathroom or getting a midnight snack, but he didn't.

Groaning, she slugged out of bed and opened the bottom-half of her door to let the dog out. Before she got back in bed, she heard Diesel's growling deepen and it sounded more fierce. Diesel's guttural rumbling was moving around the living room too, like he was following something. She briefly wondered if the pit was freaking out because there was a full moon tonight and that caused him to get vocal. Things suddenly went quiet, but Marci still heard Diesel's distant barking from her window. He sounded like he was outside now. What the hell was going on? She thought.

She crawled out of the opened door and made her way down the hall to investigate what got the pit so defensive. The TV wasn't on and Miles wasn't sleeping on the sofa, so she went into the kitchen, figuring the Prospect got scared and lured the dog into the backyard while he reheated some dinner.

Diesel was in the backyard, but he was incredibly hostile now and he was jumping, slightly banging against the door. The hairs on the back of Marceline's neck suddenly stood on end and she felt like she wasn't alone anymore. She noticed a black image in the window, but it got a new color that took over most of the form. It was wheat...it was skin...and it wasn't outside with Diesel. Whipping around, Marci saw that body of darkness was sitting at the kitchen table, silently watching her.

There was a man at the table and she almost sighed, thinking it was Miles, but she noted his moss-green eyes. His dark-brown hair fell to the back of his neck and the darkness she saw in the window was his leather jacket. A sense of déjà vu washed over her and after staring back at him for a long second, it all came rushing back to her.

The day Clay took her behind the clubhouse for target practice, when she went to the market with Kip to stock up and saw the leather-clad back of a man with that Fatboy. This was him.

The man slightly moved and the thought of running into the backyard to let Diesel attack him while she climbed the fence was disregarded when she saw the silver of metal glinting in the moonlight. One of the man's hands was resting on the tabletop and holding a gun aimed on her. His other arm was bent at the elbow and he was digging in his front pocket. He finally took his emotionless eyes off his target to glance at what he pulled from his jeans, a photo. He compared the 2 and, other than the blonde highlights, this girl was exactly who he was looking for.

"Alright, Marceline." He spoke with a slightly husked tone. "Let's get going. Your husband's waitin' for ya' in Scotts Valley."

Against her glare, Marceline started to understand what the hell was going on. Gage. He managed to find her and he sent this man to take her back to him. The intruder didn't have any patches that she could see and she knew Gage wouldn't send an inexperienced Toad to come get her, so this had to be a Drifter.

The Drifter stood and Marceline flinched back into a corner. Diesel was still barking and he started jumping against the glass when the Drifter got closer to her. As soon as the man tucked his gun in its holster under his jacket, Marceline made a run for the living room, but she tripped over something en route. As soon as the beginning of her scream left her mouth at the sight of Miles' corpse bleeding out on the carpet from a knife lodged in his throat, the Drifter slapped his hand over her mouth to stop it.

Marceline was still screaming and beginning to cry as the Drifter was tying her hands behind her back. He pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and tied it around her mouth, silencing the terrified girl. He was warned by the SV President that Charming was home to another motorcycle club and that his target was most likely going to have protection, so he wasn't surprised to find a man of the club sleeping on the couch. Within the time he's been in Charming, he's been following any of the Sons he saw around town and one of the older ones shared this house with her, having to be her father. He only had orders to bring Marceline Telford back to Scotts Valley unharmed, though the President said she might put up a fight. He was sure he could handle whatever she dished out because he's done kidnapping jobs before. Now that he's seen her in person, he understood why Gage was paying so much to get her back.

With her hands securely bound and her screams silenced, the Drifter lifted a now thrashing Marceline and went to the front door. He poked his head out and scanned the streets for any witnesses. Just as when he let himself in through the back door, the night-drenched streets were clear and quiet. Marci was getting over seeing Miles dead and was fighting harder, kicking her legs as hard as she could, but she just couldn't hit her abductor, so she was trying to squirm out of his tight grip.

The Drifter already dragged her to the enclosed utility van that was disguised as a Dog Catcher's van and opened the back doors, having to put a bit more force into getting the girl inside. After another failed attempt, he lifted her again, but she planted her feet on the car's metal frame and was pushing back. With another shove, she lost her footing and was plunged into the darkness. The van didn't have a metal floor, instead having a soft carpet replacing it. Marceline was up on her knees and she ran to the opened doors, but the Drifter slammed both of them shut. He could hear her ramming at them and he chuckled.

"Don't think you're strong enough to break through solid steel, sweetheart." To his remark, he heard her muffled screams and pat the doors before going to front and hopping in the driver's seat.

Marci was thrown off balance when the van took off and was on her side again. She propped herself up against the wall separating her from the Drifter and tugged her arms under her butt, then over her legs. She yanked whatever cloth he stuffed in her mouth out and let her eyes adjust to her small, mobile prison as she calmed her breathing. This was a mind over matter situation and she refused to let her Anxiety get the best of her. She'd taken her Librium today and she'll be damned if she wasn't going to take advantage of the drug's effect.

After scanning the small space and finding nothing to use, she started kicking the wall separating the cab of the car from her. She heard the Drifter tell her to cut it out and she screamed, 'Fuck you!' back. That's what she did next, started yelling in hopes someone on the street would hear her cries and call the police. The Drifter caught on to what she was doing and knew nobody would be able to hear her yelling, but he kept sporadically braking until she stopped. A few minutes of silence followed and he smirked to himself, thinking she realized there was no way out.

Marceline was panting as she tried to think of another way out of the van. She stared at the double doors and her eyes focused on the circular cutout where a handle should've been. The Drifter didn't chain the doors when he threw her in here, so one of them had to be unlocked. She pushed herself up and pulled at the right one, unable to make the door pop open. She used all the force she had to shove the left one and the open the door flung open with little resistance. She just barely managed to grab onto the top of the door as was she was pushed outwards with the force.

The Drifter had a disposable in his hand as he drove out of the small town and he was a second away from calling President Gage to tell him he'd be reunited with his wife tonight. Before he could push the 'call' button, he heard a bang and a shriek. He looked out of his side mirror and saw nothing, so he leaned over to look in the other one.

"Goddamn it!" He cursed upon seeing the girl hanging on the goddamn door like a stunt-double in some action movie.

Marci felt the van coming to a stop just after they'd passed the Welcome to Charming sign and she let herself drop to the ground when the car was slowed down enough. She was already sprinting off, wanting to get as far away from the Drifter as possible, and he was running after her, but she didn't dare look back. The Drifter didn't expect the girl to be like this, to be out of her goddamn mind. His past targets would usually just sit and cry on the drive or try to convince him to let them go, but this one obviously didn't want to go back to where she came from.

The Drifter wasn't catching up to her quickly enough, so he pulled his pistol and fired at her feet, hoping he wouldn't hit her. The President would have his head if she had a bullet in her leg. Marci yelped and covered her head with her hands when she saw the bullets ricocheting in sparks off the road near her. She slowed down just enough for the Drifter to catch up to her and he took them both to the ground, straddling the thrashing girl.

"Get away!" She screamed as loud as she could, trying to keep her hands from the Drifter's grip.

"Shut the fuck up!" He barked, yanking her arms upwards by her wrists. Fingers arched, she raked her nails over the Drifter's face and he cried out. She'd brought her knees through his legs and kicked him off her. She'd barley gotten a step in before she was being harshly yanked back by her hair.

"Get off me!" She screeched as the Drifter dragged her back to the van by her locks, but he ignored her this time, realizing they were on a barren road where nobody would hear her.

Learning his lesson, he threw her in the driver's seat and shoved her into the passenger's side. He had the rope bounding her wrists together in his hand and was using his shoulder to keep her pressed against the door as he dug through the glovebox. He pulled out the handcuffs he was looking for and looped one end through the grip-handle on the door before cuffing the metal around her wrists.

"You try somethin' insane like that again and I'll break your fucking arm." The Drifter growled after they'd been driving a few minutes. Marceline ignored him, intent on trying to break the handle off, but it was no use.

Her arms started to burn from how much effort she was using, so she gave up to rest for a second. She was not going back to Scotts Valley and the Drifter would have to kill her if he thought she'd go willingly. She replayed his threat in her head and narrowed her eyes, but smirked. The Drifter glanced at her, seeing the strange grin on her face, but Marci pulled herself up with the grip-handle and put all her strength into kicking the Drifter square in his fucking face. The van swerved to the side with him, but she was relentless with punting him anywhere she could.

Even with all the commotion, Marci heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle and ceased her assault on the man for a second. The Drifter, fed up with her, shoved her legs down and backhanded her.

"Fucking bitch!" He cursed as Marceline tried to process what just happened in her state of shock. Her cheek was stinging from where he hit her and she was sure he broke the skin because she could taste blood in her mouth. "Stay fucking put or there's another where that came from!"

The Drifter was holding his tender jaw, feeling quite a few teeth wiggling around, and he had to force himself not to strangle the little whore in the car with him. He initially denied Gage's offer of throwing in a few extra stacks for the girl's return because he wasn't greedy, but he was going to take them now and he had the gas pedal to the floor, ready to get this job done. His ears perked at the sound of another motor on the empty road with them and he looked to his mirror, seeing red headlights coming up on his side. He shoved his gun into Marceline's mouth before she tried to scream, but kept his eyes on the approaching two-wheeler.

When he saw the full-face helmet, he relaxed because all the Sons wore half-helmets. As the ride got closer, he noticed it wasn't a Harley-Davidson brand motorcycle and was sure it was just someone passing by, so he relaxed and pulled the gun out of the girl's mouth. Ultimately, taking the gun away from her was a smart move because he fired it into her door, making her scream, when his window was broken.

Marceline was trying to stay out of range of the gun as the Drifter was yanked into his door by someone on the road. All she could see was a leather glove around the Drifter's neck as he choked and struggled to keep the van straight. He rammed the unknown driver with the van and coughed as he got to breathe again, but was already firing his gun out the window until it clicked. The Drifter's hand went into the glovebox again in search of another clip for his pistol, but Marci strained to look out of her window when she heard the motorcycle getting closer to her side. She could tell it wasn't a Son, but due to the rider's helmet, she couldn't identify who the it was. At this point, she really didn't give a damn because they were trying to help her.

She flinched when she felt the rider's leather-covered hand on her back, but screamed as her door was flung open. She was dangling above the road again and the person on the motorcycle stood, using his weight to keep his bike steady as he tried to release her from the handcuffs with tin snips. She started kicking at the Drifter again to keep him away and got a few good shots in his face, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her inside, slamming the door. He really wanted to blow her fucking head off, but he shoved her aside to shoot at the rider beside the car, ducking down himself when he was shot at. He used one hand to blindly keep them on the road, but tried to ram the person on the motorcycle again.

Upon seeing the van attempt to crash into him again, the rider accelerated and the vehicle slammed into the highway's thick, metal guard rail. The van's front bumper caught onto a baluster and spun out of control until it tipped over. A few yards away, the rider came to a screeching stop and watched in horror as the van kept tumbling down the opposite direction of hard road. The crunching of metal and smashing of glass were the only sounds flooding the silent highway until the car lost its momentum and finally rested on the roof, upside down.

The rider drove back to the mess and threw his helmet off, his pistol already drawn, when he saw the bloody glass. He went to the right door and yanked it open, glaring down his gun at the kidnapper. The man had a jagged piece of glass in his shoulder and it was pinning him to the seat, but he was still alive, trying to reach for the pistol mere meters from his fingertips. The rider grabbed a handful of the Drifter's bloodstained hair and slowly dragged his throat against the glass, wanting him to suffer as he bled to death.

Rounding the van, the rider tucked his gun into his jeans and tried to get the passenger door opened, but it seemed welded shut. He slid to the front of the van and carefully crawled through the shattered windshield, hearing the Drifter's gurgles and gasps as he choked on his own blood. Marceline was completely motionless and that worried him. Her arms were littered with cuts from the glass and he saw a few shards sunk into her skin. She had blood in her hair and there was a line of it trickling down the side of her head and from the corner of her slack mouth, her eyes shut. He clipped the chain of the handcuffs and eased her out of the wreck, not paying any mind to the scrapes he got on his legs from the barbed glass. She was limp in his arms and he tenderly set her on the road, putting his head to her chest. He could still hear her heart beating and he sighed in relief.

The rider pulled his phone out and called one of the few unnamed numbers saved in his contacts, telling them to get to highway 580 as quickly as they could. He pulled his hoodie off and zipped Marci in it, wishing he could do more to help her. For now, all he could do was hold her close to him and wait for help to come.

It felt like hours later, but just 15 minutes passed before the rider spotted a familiar Lincoln MKT coming down the road, flashing the headlights to signal its arrival. The rider stood with an unconscious Marceline in his arms and walked towards the silver car.

"You're gonna be okay, babe." He promised, looking down at her slightly bruised face.

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