"Get back here you Bitch!"
I let out a whimper as he pulled me back by my hair. I knew I should have left the second he laid his hands on me for the first time, but I was naive and had nowhere else to go. I believed him when he said he was sorry and that it wouldn't happen again. I shouldn't have.
"Darren, please," I begged, whimpering painfully when he pulled my hair.
"You stupid whore," he spat. I flinched at his words and he dragged me over to the table where a syringe full of whatever his drug of choice was resting. As soon as I saw it I felt conflicted, on the one hand I was desperate for a high, but on the other, I knew I shouldn't and that it was going to get me killed. Darren had been forcing drugs into my veins for over a year now, he found that it kept me docile and weak, unable to fight against him.
He flung me to the floor before picking up the needle from the table. He bent down with a sadistic look on his face and stroked my hair in faux comfort. "I wouldn't have to do this if you would just do as I tell you," he said, bringing the sharp needle to my arm. I tried to pull away but he grabbed my arm before I could do anything. He pushed the needle into my arm and plunged the drugs into my body, leaving me broken and weak on the floor.
As I lay on the floor, I couldn't help but wonder what my life would be like if I had never been forced to leave home. It would have been better than this, that's for sure. I wanted to go home more than anything but I knew I couldn't.
My thoughts of a better life overwhelmed me and were the last thoughts I had before my vision blurred and I fell unconscious.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the soft bed beneath me and my not so shocking lack of clothes. It was not the first time Darren had raped me while I was drugged up or unconscious. I sighed looking over to the clock, noticing it had only been two hours.
I knew I couldn't stay here anymore. I knew I was going to end up dead sooner or later. It was time for me to leave.
I put my clothes on as quickly and quietly as I possibly could, wincing in pain as I stood before stumbling slightly as I escaped the room. My vision blurred for a second causing me to stop and lean against the wall. In that split second the front door was kicked open and armed FBI agents stormed in, yelling for me to freeze. One hurried past me to the bedroom and soon emerged dragging Darren out of the room.
In a matter of seconds we were both handcuffed and escorted out of the building. Luckily we were put in separate cars.
When we reached our destination I was escorted to an interrogation room, still handcuffed, and was told that someone would be with me in a few minutes.
I looked up when the door opened and to my displeasure, I saw a very familiar face. "Oh great," I said, "it's you."
"Amber Trager," he said with a smug smile. "Wow, you have changed. You're a junkie now."
I scoffed, glaring at him, "well I wouldn't be here without you."
I glared fiercely at the man who ruined my life. Ten years ago the FBI were working a case in Charming involving SAMCRO. They questioned everyone, including me. Someone then told Clay and the rest of SAMCRO that I was a rat, even though I hadn't said a word to incriminate them.
SAMCRO had been my family at the time, I trusted them with my life. But they all turned their backs on me when they believed I would actually rat on them. I'm lucky to be alive actually, usually rats are executed for their crimes against SAMCRO. But Clay couldn't hurt me. I was the daughter of one of his best friends. In fact I was actually Clay's goddaughter. And so my punishment was exile. I was not allowed back in Charming, that was the only condition for sparing my life. If I was to go back, I could be killed and I don't think that even my father would help me get out of that sentence.
The agent in front of me spoke for about an hour and since he had no reason to keep me there he let me leave. It turns out that Darren was wanted for questioning on a case involving the murder of a family in Seattle.
I immediately went back to the apartment and got in my beat up car driving away from the city. I knew I needed help and I knew there was only one person that could help me. I let out a deep breath as I dialed a familiar number on my phone.
"Hey, I need your help."
