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to.  “Who is the bride?”
    Winston smiled radiantly.  “Your sister.  Jenny.” 
    For a long time I heard nothing else but the roar of blood inside my head. 

Chapter Six
     
    I didn’t remember finishing breakfast.  Or returning to the Escalade.  But when I blinked there I was hurtling east along the I-10, back to the Arizona border, as Winston Allred whistled at my side.  
    “Promise,” he said cheerfully.  He didn’t notice when I failed to look at him.  “Do you know why you were selected to attend school?”
    I didn’t answer. 
    “You were chosen,” he continued, “because we agreed that you would return.  You would not be tempted by the evils of the common world.  You are obedient, Promise.”  I heard the smile in his voice.  “There is no more suitable trait for a woman.” 
    I couldn’t speak.  Winston didn’t seem troubled.  He resumed whistling. 
    Jenny.  I’m sorry.  I should have left.  And taken you with me.
    We had reached the dingy town of Blythe just west of the state line.  Winston pulled the car into a gas station and began counting the money in his wallet. 
    Between the heat, the agony of my body, and the horrific news I’d been fed, my stomach was threatening a full scale revolt.  I was going to vomit.  Soon. 
    “Winston,” I croaked as I spilled out of the door, “I need to use the rest room. Now.” 
    The glance he threw me was more of a glare but he wouldn’t force me back into the car.  Not in public.  He counted out sixty dollars and headed for the station attendant.  “Be quick,” was all he said.
    My small satchel was laying on the front seat so I grabbed it.  The sun shone directly in my eyes as I staggered to a neighboring Burger King. 
    As I spilled through the front door I gratefully drank in the cool air.  The young woman behind the counter stared at me.  A tattoo covered the left side of her neck and as she looked at me her face seemed to drop into grief, as if she knew how I’d been abused.  And understood because such things had also happened to her. 
    I reached over to the condiment counter and picked up a few napkins, wiping the perspi ration from my forehead.  That was when I saw the men. 
    At first I didn’t know why the sight of them jolted me so much.  One had a square jaw and a dark beard, a bandana tied around his black hair which seemed to be on the long side.  He flashed a grin at his companion and showed his shattering good looks. The other man w as darker skinned, muscular.  His black hair was cropped extremely close and he appeared taller, more powerful, than the first man.  His fingers drummed on the thin table and he kept a tense posture, like a cat. 
    I t wasn’t the men themselves which had startled me.  I had never seen either of them before.  However, there was something else about them which was familiar.  Despite the oppressive heat, both of them wore battered sleeveless leather over black t-shirts.  The lettering across the back was simple and starkly red. 
    DEFIANT.  
    Underneath that, in smaller white lettering read the letters ‘MC’. I had seen another man dressed identically.  He figured prominently in pictures my cousin had posted online.
    I didn’t know what it meant.  Perhaps it was a brand name I was unfamiliar with.  But I doubted it.  It was too raw a look.  As I stood there silently regarding the two men the darker skinned one caught me looking and seemed wary.  I turned and lurched down the hallway toward the bathrooms. 
    There was virtually nothing in my stomach so after a handful of unproductive dry heaves which played havoc with my ribs, I splashed some cold water on my face and returned to the stall.  I almost couldn’t bear to tend to my own body these days.  Not only was it still painful, but a pervasive shame washed over me every time I needed to clean myself up.  With a sick feeling I realized that somewhere my little sister was feeling the same way and a