Prologue.
Freedom, there's nothing like it, is there?.
Well, for me there isn't any way, especially now that I'm done with school and I'm free to do whatever I want and go wherever I want.
For the past eight years, I've been living in California with an old friend of my mommas and my aunties after I was forced to flee South Dakota thanks to my asshole ex-boyfriend.
The short version of what happened is that he brutally dumped me and embarrassed me in front of his whole gang, instead of sitting me down like a normal person and telling me that he no longer loves me or wants to be with me, he chose to publically demean and degrade me leaving me with no other choices but to flee the city.
Some may say I over-reacted to the situation and I shouldn't have given him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt and now as a grown-ass woman I'd agree but at the time I was seventeen and as you all know, teenagers can be very dramatic about everything even small, stupid things and make them seem big and important when it's not.
After I left South Dakota, I spent my first year in California working hard so that I could graduate from high school, I also worked for my guardian in her garage working on motorcycles and fixing them up which is something I'm very experienced in but I don't have any certificates or anything to show that I'm certified to work on cycles full time.
I also started attending numerous therapy sessions because my ex had left me in a really bad state of depression and my guardian wasn't happy seeing a young girl such as myself so sad and crying all of the time, especially over a man.
I remember the day she informed me I'd be going to see a therapist, it was the first time I'd laughed in a very long time because she said to me 'child of all things a girl can cry over, you're crying over a man, something which can easily be replaced and upgraded with a click of your fingers'.
That day was the day I realised I gave Ace McCarthy way too much power over me and now I had to take it back for my own sanity.
While I was working on myself and healing my broken heart, my guardian's daughter Angel, who is now one of my best friends, helped me rebuild my confidence and self-esteem whilst also teaching me how to fight and defend myself.
Angel is an MMA fighter and is one of the best in the business.
She thinks that it should be a rite of passage like getting your period or losing your virginity for a woman to know how to fight and defend themselves, in her words, 'every woman has the right to be a badass b***h' and she wanted me to be a badass just like her and now I am.
Angel is responsible for almost all of my tattoos and piercings, I say almost all because I got my first piercing done when I was fourteen which was when my auntie took me to get my ears pierced and I got my first tattoo done when I was sixteen which I now regret because I got it done with my ex Ace, he wanted us to get our names tattooed on each other to show our everlasting love but as we all know, that love quickly fizzled out a year later.
Anyway, Aces tattoo was of my name along with a small red heart done just above his private area and he got my nickname Maka tattooed on the side of his neck as well, whereas I got my tattoo done on the front of my left hip and it's off a black howling wolf which represents his nickname and it's got Ace at the top of it.
Angel has encouraged me to get numerous tattoos and piercings which include getting piercings done in my nose, naval, both of my n*****s and my right eyebrow and she's also the reason why I went and got my motorcycle licence which my family will be super pissed about but I don't give a f**k because getting my licence was one of the best decisions I've ever made and I don't regret it one bit.
If my family don't like it then they can go and suck a d**k, my bike is my baby and I refuse to give her up and stop riding because they don't like it or think it's not safe.
Somewhere in between being a depressed teen and becoming a badass biker chick, I managed to get my PhD in psychology, I know it's an odd combination but I honestly couldn't give a s**t.
Most guys see a chick on a bike and immediately think she's either some dumb slut who is wanting to impress someone in the higher hierarchy of an MC or she's a wannabe who is just using the bike for show and doesn't actually know how to ride it, so they get a shock when they meet me.
I love riding my bike, I love the thrill and freedom of just jumping on my bike and riding down a road feeling the wind in my hair knowing I could end up anywhere, it's just a really exhilarating experience.
Right now, I'm riding back home to South Dakota to go and celebrate my best friend Topaz's birthday.
I really didn't wanna come home for the obvious reason because that reason just so happens to be Topaz's big brother and I knew I couldn't avoid him whilst I'm there but my sweet little bestie managed to guilt-trip me into coming and now I'm just a few miles away from being back to where it all started.
Whilst riding down the road, I saw a man who looks like he had broken down and was trying to fix his bike.
Being the good samaritan that I am, I decided to pull over on the side of the road and get off my bike to help him.
As I walked over to him, I looked at his bike and mentally groaned when I saw the name on the side.
Urgh!!, he's a member of Satans Angels MC.
Satans Angels MC are like a dollar store version of Hells Angels MC and from what I've heard from my brother Giovani, they're more like a club of toddlers trying to play grown-ups instead of grown men running a legit club.
"Hey, are you ok? do you need any help?"
I ask with a smile.
He may be a member of an immature club but that doesn't mean he's not entitled to some help.
My smile quickly dropped and my face immediately changed to shock, fear and horror when the man turned around and smirked evilly at me whilst stroking his c**k which was swinging free from his pants.
"A sexy little thing like you can help me out a lot"
Oh hell no.
The dirty old bastard tried to approach me thinking I was gonna be your average weak damsel in distress who would scream and shout for help but he got the shock of his life when I punched him in the nose breaking it before introducing his four inches to my six inches when I kicked him in the d**k with my heels.
"AAHHH!!, YOU f*****g b***h!!"
I ran back to my bike and got on it.
I started it up and was about to ride off when out of nowhere a bunch of bikers pulled up and circled me, oh s**t, I'm in trouble now.
"I'm gonna f*****g enjoy this"
I heard from behind me before I felt myself being dragged off my bike by my hair and thrown over someone's shoulders.
"LET ME GO YOU ASSHOLE!!, LET ME f*****g GO!!"
I screamed and shouted whilst hitting the bastards back.
"SHUT UP, b***h!!"
He growled whilst smacking my ass.
"We'll let you go when you've satisfied all of our needs"
Oh f**k.
That night was the longest night of my entire life.
For what felt like years but was probably only a few hours, I was raped in every way possible and in every position, I was used and abused, I was beaten up and my body was clawed at by every single one of them like they were leaving their mark on me.
One of the assholes even stabbed me in my shoulder when I did something I shouldn't have but I couldn't help myself.
He backhanded me across the face before jamming the dagger deep into my left shoulder.
When the bastards were done violating me, they left me alone on the side of the road a beaten, bloodied violated mess and not long after I heard the roars of their bikes dissipate into the distance, I found myself slowly falling into unconsciousness hoping and praying that they don't come back for me.
