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Authors: Michelle Woods

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“She wouldn’t allow it. She even went so far as to tell me that if I did she would refuse to marry me. Do you know why, Mia?” He asked.

“No, why?” She asked.

“She said that if I lost my position in the council how would I help others to see the truth. If I leave then no one would see them and that she couldn’t live with. I’m telling you this so that you know that not everyone is against them. They have a voice, although it is seldom heeded. They need more people like us, Mia. You can’t force the Hill district to see them, but you can make changes that will help. You only have to work hard so that you can. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Mia?”

She stared at him for a long moment in silence, then she nodded. “I understand. I have to stay silent now but one day I will have a chance to help.”

“Yes, now let’s go back inside before your father comes out again. We will pretend that it doesn’t sicken us to eat to excess while people starve.” Her uncle smiled as he rose to his feet headed back into the glittering restaurant. When they were almost to the door Mia asked stopped him to ask.

“Can I meet them?”

“Of course, I would be honored if you’d meet them. You can invite your friends too. I would like to meet them as well.” Tristen smiled then and Mia felt the weight of her guilt lessen just a bit. She would help them. It might not be today, but one day she would help them. She grinned following him into the restaurants dining area.   

 

Chapter 2

 

Mia stood at the window staring down at the Slum district feeling lost. She’d been alone in her fight for equality for over a year now and the Slum districts residents were no better off than when she’d began helping her uncle Tristen over nine years ago. She was twenty four and Uncle Tristin had died last year leaving her with only her two best friends Raven and Marcus who truly understood her. Mia sighed, standing there at the window in her room. She felt as though she was no closer to finding equality for the Slum district than she had been at sixteen when her uncle had shown her a way to help her friends.

In the past year, the violent opposition to the worsening plight of the Slum dwellers had become unbearable. About a year and a half ago her friend Racheal had killed her spouse in self-defense which seemed to spur the Hill district into a frenzy of hate so strong the effects were still being rained down on the heads of the current Slum dwellers. Tristen’s intervention in the trial had been the only thing to save Racheal from death.

It had been the last trial he’d attended. It had been mere months before his death and one of his last acts as a council man. She was still shocked that they were now turning to a more permeant form of punishment for Slum crimes. Many of which were unfounded and due more the Hillies prejudice than real crimes that were committed.

They had always thrown offenders out of the city into what they thought of as a lawless world where they would surely die anyway. But that was before the death of the council woman Cain’s son, who was the man Racheal had killed. After Cain’s death they began to administering corporal punishment for the smallest of crimes. It was causing the already bad situation for the Slum dwellers to become much worse. It was disturbing.

She’d decided that she had to act. She couldn’t stand back anymore and watch people starve when she could help them. So Mia had taken a supervisory position at the food intake center today. It would allow her better access to food to aid the Slum districts people. She was frightened by the choice to help them.

If she got caught with the rising tide of anger at the Slum’s it could mean her death rather than just banishment. She knew that she might not make it to the next year if she was caught. She was only twenty four. She didn’t want to die, but she would not sit idly by any longer. She simply couldn’t. Working behind the scene was okay when her Uncle was alive to help curb the council’s opinions.

Only now with the way the situation was shaping into a rebellion from the oppressed faction of the city, she had to act. Her friends deserved to eat and have the same luxuries that so many in the Hill district took for granted. It was sad really. Even her own family was mired in the idealistic view that they were better than the people in the Slums. Her Uncle had shown her the history records when she was nineteen.

It had explained that at first the Slum’s had been a working class that had been fed the same as the Hill and also had access to better jobs and more equal footing. Only as the years had passed those in power had slowly lost sight of how the Slum district helped keep the Hill in the fancy hover cars, and other such luxuries. Then the rules that had allowed council members from the Slum’s a voice had been taken away. This had changed the laws to favor those from the Hill. That was how they began the class system that was now ripping the calm city into a class war that may bring the entire system down around all their heads.

Mia inspected the city behind the wall from the tower of her home. She want to heal its broken pieces, but she knew that it would take more than her and the rebellion she was working for to stop the war that was surely coming for them all. She heard a light knock on her door. She quickly changed the window she’d been staring through to display a peaceful lake view instead. She turned, calling out to the computerized entryway.

“Allow entry.”

Her brother Hilton strode into the room plopping down on her bed. Mia sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her brother it was that he was here for money, again. She hated what he’d become in the last year and a half. He was hooked on a drug called Juice. It was a designer drug that gave you a euphoric high that lasted for two days. She hated that stuff for taking her dearly love brother and making him into a sad excuse for a man.

“What do you want, Hilton?” She asked even though she already knew.

“Hey, little Mia. Is that anyway to greet your only brother?” Hilton asked, smiling at her. His use of her nickname proved that he wanted funds so he could get high again.

He always called her Hilmia when he didn’t want something from her. These little visits where almost monthly now. She truly hated them. It was usually the only time she saw her brother. After he’d used his own funds for Juice he came to her acting the injured party and begged for her credits. She almost hated him for it. Only he was her brother. She’d talked to her parents about it and they had brushed it off. Her father claimed that the drug was harmless. That the addiction could be cured easily once her brother was older. That he would get bored and stop taking the drug.

Mia had seen too many people hooked on the drug lose everything to accept that. It was sad that the drug was smuggled into the city by guards who took extra credits from the bikers who supplied it. She knew it was the M.C club called the Jackal’s who were bringing it to their city and if she could she’d put a stop to it. Only she wasn’t able to. She sighed in frustration at the inability to protect her brother.

“If you’re wanting credits then you’re out of luck. I spent them already.” She hadn’t, but she wasn’t giving them to her brother so he could get high.

“What makes you act as if that’s the only reason I came to talk to you, Mia.” He demanded.

“Because that’s the only time I see you lately. When you need funds.” Mia told him acidly.

“Well it’s not. I came to congratulate you on your promotion. It will be a better paid position for you. Thought you’d be happy and in a good mood.” Hilton said, glaring in her direction as he lounged on the bed.

Mia would bet he thought he’d be able to weasel more credits from her now that she had her new job and her allowance from their father. It was funny to think that she was a twenty four years old and she was still getting an allowance. It was just the way things were done in the Hill district. Most families gave an allowance until their son or daughter was twenty five. That was when the child was fully groomed to take over whatever position was expected of them.

It was a dreadful system that encouraged her younger brother to be reckless without any thought of the future and what it could hold. She was considered an oddity for deciding to get a job earlier than was normal in the Hill District. She hated that Slum dwellers were forced into child labor and she who was an adult was considered odd for wanting to work. It was quite maddening.

There should be laws that protected the Slum’s children from such treatment. She knew that before the world had collapsed there had been such laws protecting children. Only now there was only the laws which oppressed the Slum’s. She was sure that her city was headed for another civil war if things didn’t change soon. She just hoped that the world outside was safe when they were forced to leave the only home they knew before it collapsed around them.

“Thank you. Now, I’d like to watch a vid on the halo screen so if you don’t want to watch “The End of us All” again. I suggest you leave.” She said referring to an old movie that was about two star-crossed lovers that got together at the ending of the world.

Most movies had been lost when the storms washed away half the world, but some had remained and when an inventor had made the halo vid system most of the old movies had been converted. The upper Hill district who were able to afford such luxuries were able to buy the vids and watch them in the comfort of their homes. Although she didn’t condone the excessive life most of the Hill’s residents led, she loved movies. It was her one guilty pleasure.

“Ummm….no I think I just remembered that I need to polish my bot collection.” Hilton said jumping up from the bed and moving out of the room.

Ha, still got it, she thought as she watched him go. Commanding the computer to bring up her movie. She sat back and watched her mind wandering a bit to what tomorrow would bring.

 

Mia got out of bed the next morning at five am. She stumbled into the bathing chamber to shower. She needed to wake up. She really wasn’t a morning person.

“Computer, turn on shower preset four please.” She said as she brushed her teeth. She eyeballed the mirror seeing her tired eyes and her frizzy hair. Sighing she climbed into the perfectly adjusted shower. This was another guilty pleasure she had to admit. She loved that the shower warmed to exactly the right temperature when commanded.

She let the water fall over her face as she washed her hair. She wanted to make a good impression today. She needed to on her first day as shift supervisor. Mia finished washing her hair and got out of the stall. She glared at the dryer. Should she use it or just braid her hair? She wondered. She didn’t like the dryer because it always made her hair frizzier than it already was. Her red hair hung to her waist in long wavy locks. The dryer, which attached to your head and dried your hair in about a minute, only had three settings. They all made her wavy hair frizz. It was hard to believe that even with the technology they had that they couldn’t make it not frizz wavy hair.

Deciding to braid it she quickly did so then pulled on her uniform. It was a dark brown skirt that hung to her feet and a white button up blouse. She topped the outfit with her light work boots and she was ready for her first day. Checking out her reflection she smiled grimly. She was ready, and hopefully she didn’t get caught transferring food to the rebels. She really didn’t want to die so young, but she truly believed that what they were doing to prevent the Slum’s form getting enough food was wrong. She couldn’t stand by and do nothing. It wasn’t who she was. Exiting her room she walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat and her coffee.

Her mother sat at the table, and looked up with a smile as she entered.

“First day! It must be so trilling. To be supervisor of the food intake plant. I’m so proud.” Her mother gushed making her feel slightly bad that the only reason she was doing this job was to help the rebels. If her mother knew that she’d be a lot less excited for Mia.

“Yes, it’s very exciting.” She said, smiling as she put her coffee cup under the dehydrator and hot coffee filled the cup. She held the cup to her lips and sipped. Ahh…Heaven.

“I was telling my friend Hiltine about you getting this position and she was so mad. Her son isn’t even interested in getting a job and he’s twenty five. Yet you’re only twenty four and you already have one. It’s so fun to brag a bit about my amazing daughter.” She giggled and handed Mia a plate full of eggs.

“I’m so glad I could be the source of your gossip, mother.” Mia said, smiling. She loved her mother. She was a dear woman.

Even though she too was against giving the Slum workers a chance it was only because that was what she’d been taught. The propaganda that Hill children learned in school was hard to ignore. It was a little like being programed really as a hill student you were programed not to see the inequalities. If her mother ever had her eyes opened to the truth she would likely be horrified. Mia ate her eggs and chatted with her mother before kissing her cheek and leaving. She was ready to help the people she had grown to care for, and today was the first day she would be able to actually do more than talk about helping.

Chapter 3

 

It had been three weeks since Mia had started at the food intake center. She’d dealt with attitudes from the four men she supervised and it was making her crazy. They were all assholes. She wanted to smack them upside their heads every time they opened their mouths. They all thought that because she was a woman she was an idiot. Although, their view helped with her ruse that she was losing crates of food somehow, she hated that they treated her with such disrespect.

“Hey, Hilmia. I was checking the logs and another two crates are missing from building B. I handled it of course. I didn’t want you to have to worry about it.” Hilconn, one of the worst offenders said, as he entered her office. A sly smirk on his weasel like face. His chin quivered, and the fat that was clinging to his fat arms shook. It was amazing that at his rotund size he could still manage to resemble a weasel.

She grimly scrutinized at the man. She knew that most of his problem with her was that she was a woman, but she had to wonder if it might also be that even at five foot she managed to be taller than he was. The man was stout and short, only about four ten and he had to weigh at least two twenty.

“Thank you.” Mia said, shortly. She didn’t have time for his bullshit this morning. She was expecting a delivery from the local bikers today. She’d been warned that they were not easy to deal with, but she had a feeling that was because they disapproved of the way they were treated when they were here. She had no proof of that though, and she wanted to get off on the right foot with them. If she did she may be able to work a deal that could help the Slum rebels.

“I knew you’d appreciate that I handled it rather than bothering you with it.” The man said in a tone that implied she wouldn’t have been able to handle the problem. Making her grit her teeth. She wanted to tell the man to shove his condescension up his ass, but she knew that his thinking she was foolish was better than him suspecting the truth.

“Those lawless Devils will be here in an hour. Just wanted to let you know. If you want I can handle them for you too.” Hilconn’s lips curled into another sly smile.

Ha, she’d just bet he would love that. He’d be able to slowly take over. That wasn’t going to happen, she wasn’t being edged out of this job to be assured that they didn’t suspect what she was doing.

“Thank you, but I need to learn to handle them. Also, next time let me know before you handle the issues that come up.” Mia lips curve into a large brightly lit, utterly fake smile.

Hilconn’s face darkened, and he nodded then made idle chat for a few moments before exiting her office. When he was gone Mia banged her head on the desk twice before getting back into the paperwork she’d been trying to wrap up.

 

Ratchet glared at Tick. Damn the man. He wanted him to go on this run today when they weren’t scheduled to do it until next week. He was pissed. The man was avoiding the feelings he had for Charity, his current house mouse, and it wasn’t something he was in the mood for. Ratchet didn’t want to do the city run. Nobody ever really wanted to do the city run. It was ran by pompous dickheads who made them all want to tell them to find their own damned food. Only it made a lot of credits for the club.

Ratchet shook his head. “Tick, what the fuck. Just go home and talk to her.”

“Damn it, Ratchet. I can’t keep begging her to forgive me for being a fool. I hurt her and she’s not ready to forgive me yet. I need to go on this run, damn it.” Tick growled running a hand through his hair. His fists then clenching at his sides as he almost begged Ratchet with his eyes. Fuck, he really hated that Tick was like a brother to him. Not that most of his club weren’t, it was different with Tick. They were closer than he was with any other man in the club.

Fuck, he was going to have to do the city run twice this month, he thought bleakly. He fucking hated dealing with those dickheads at the gate where they delivered the goods to. He sighed, leaning on the barn with his hands hooked in his belt loops.

“Fine, but you fucking owe me.” Ratchet said, he didn’t understand why the hell the man couldn’t just go by himself instead of involving him in this torture he’d designed for himself. He was going to have to make the run twice too.

“Done, we leave in an hour to meet Rock and Tiny.” Tick told him before he headed to his house to get ready.

“Fuck.” Ratchet said as he walked to his own cabin to do the same. At least with Tiny there he wouldn’t have to do anything other than unload the trucks.

Which meant he could ignore the fucks who made him want to split them from ear to ear every time they opened their mouths. He fucking hated dealing with those fuckers. If it didn’t bring so many credits into the club Bone likely would have told them to stick it up their asses long ago. Only it did bring in a hell of a lot of credits for the club because the stupid fucks who lived behind that wall were too fucking lazy to venture out to get their own damned food.

Two hours later Ratchet pulled his bike up next to the truck watching as Tiny got off his bike and headed towards the office. The man paused looking surprised standing in the doorway of the office for several moments before he walked inside. Ratchet wondered what that look had been about as he joined Tick at the back of the truck. He knew that something had startled the man and that didn’t happen often.

Deciding to ask Tiny about it later he began unloading the truck with Tick, Rock and two prospects. They were almost done when the prick who was always a pain in the ass came into the warehouse. Ratchet was carrying in another crate and he wanted to drop it and hit the stupid asshat in the head. The man had a thin face and a thick heavy body which made him look like a dumpy weasel.

Ratchet had dealt with him on several occasions and none of them had ended well. He could still remember the time Tick had to hold him back from beating the fuck out of the man for being rude to Marta. She was Tinkers old lady, and a sweet woman. She didn’t deserve this fuck being a dick to her for no reason. Until that day about a year ago she’d driven the truck to the city but since then they had a prospect do it. None of their women needed to get harassed by these dickheads who looked down on them.

The idiot didn’t realize how close he was to dying apparently. He sauntered into the warehouse with a sly look on his face. He began to open the crates shoving his meaty hands into the fresh food they’d brought. Ratchet turned walking out of the warehouse after setting down his crate. They were almost done and that dickhead was going to annoy him he just knew it.

He pause outside the door next to Tiny and Tick who were standing near the truck talking. Most of the crated fruits and vegetables that the Dixon family grew were unloaded.

“What’s up?” He asked them holding a crate.

“Nothing, just a little surprised that the new foreperson was a woman that’s all.” Tiny said, looking at him.

“Really? Is she a bitch?”

“Not the impression I got surprisingly. She seemed to want to talk about something, but the man who works with her didn’t want to leave the room. I was filling Tick in because you two have the run next week. I’m hoping that we might not have as much trouble as we normally do with this new foreperson. She seems different. I didn’t want to kill her on the spot at least which definite improvement.” Tiny told him quietly. 

Ratchet snickered. Yeah he’d bet. A woman was easier on the eyes if nothing else. Although, Tiny only had eyes for Racheal, his old lady. But for the rest of the crew who weren’t leg shackled to their women it would be a nice change.

“Want me to take that in?” Rock asked, making Ratchet realize that the crate he held was the last one.

He shook his head. “Nah…I got it.” He said headed into the warehouse to find that little prick holding some apples from a crate they’d brought in.

“These are damaged. I am not paying for these crates if they have damaged merchandise.” The man’s face was twisted into a sly smile. Ratchet knew that the man had damaged the apples on purpose to try and negotiate a better price. He also knew that the little fuck wouldn’t be getting it. Red devils didn’t negotiate.

He didn’t know why they continued to try this bull shit every time they brought food, but they did. It got old really quick. The first time they let them know that it wasn’t happening and thought that would be the end of that only the fuckers hadn’t taken the hint. Not in the ten years the club had been providing food. It had been his father’s generation who’d dealt with it, and now it was him and Tick and the other Red devils. Fuck, he hated these fucking food runs.

The little prick was wearing that button up long sleeved shirt and vest all the workers here wore and it seemed uncomfortable. In this heat it had to be hot a fuck too. Ratchet wondered absently what the little shit would do if he grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

“You’ll pay. Or we pack our shit up and leave.” Ratchet said darkly. Glaring at the fat little weasel.

“You can’t do that. You have to give us a better pric…” The little dickhead tried to whine but Ratchet interrupted him.

“The fuck I can’t.”

Then his dick jumped to attention when a husky voice that sounded like aged whiskey rolled over his body like a caress.

“Is there a problem here?”  Ratchet almost came in his pants when he turned around to see the woman standing a few feet away.

She was only about five foot, with curly red hair that seemed to escape the twist she’d pulled it into. Ratchet couldn’t pinpoint what made him feel like an animal ready to rut, but the sight of her standing there took his breath away and ramped him up past eleven in two seconds flat. The outfit she was wearing didn’t give him even a hint of what she looked like beneath that baggy white button up or the skirt that hung to her ankles. But something about her made him want to strip her naked and have his way with her. He’d been less turned on looking at a sweetbutt’s bare tits.

Her full ripe lips parted, and he wanted to pull his dick out and slip it into those pretty petals. Fuck. What the hell was wrong with him? The fantasy he was having of her on her knees with his cock in her mouth was interrupted abruptly by the weasel.

“He’s refused to lower their prices and they brought damaged goods. You should deal with this, I think. Being as you’re the new supervisor.” The man’s face was twisted into a condescending smile again. Making Ratchet want to cut it off his face. The man shouldn’t talk to her in such a disrespectful tone.

“Hilconn, go and help Thomas with the paperwork. I can handle this.” Ratchet’s dick jerked again at the sound of that whiskey coated voice. He could imagine her begging him with that voice as he pounded her into the wall of the warehouse. Perhaps if she offered the right incentive he’d be willing to lower the price for her. He had plenty of credits to pay the club back with and if he got his dick inside her it would be worth it.

“Sorry about him.” She said as the little dickhead exited the warehouse.

“What’s your name?” Ratchet asked gruffly. Watching her move a few steps closer.

“I don’t think that’s relevant.” She told him as she tilted her head and watched him carefully. He grinned. Yeah, she was a smart one, but it wouldn’t save her. She suddenly seemed to realize that they were completely alone inside the warehouse because she took a step away from him. Now watching him as a bunny watched a wolf. He let his lips curve into a wicked grin, as he stalked her. He wouldn’t take her here he decided. They would likely get interrupted and he wanted to take his time with her. He had a feeling that once with her wouldn’t be enough.

“Your name beautiful?” Ratchet demanded still following as she continued to back away from him. His grin got wider as he realized that in three more steps her back would be against the warehouse wall.

“Mia.” She finally stuttered out. Her heart pounding.

She’d been in her office when the dark haired one came in to get the payment set up. She’d wanted to talk to him about possibly having a few extra crates a month sent in so that she could give them to the rebels without them knowing that she was using her own funds for the goods. Only Hilconn, the little dick hadn’t left the room. Even when he was told to go help unload the crates. It had pissed her off. When she’d entered the warehouse to find the two men facing off she’d thought getting rid of Hilconn would be her chance to discuss the business she needed to discuss with the bikers.

Only now she was thinking as her eyes darted back and forth that maybe being alone in an empty warehouse with a man she knew nothing about wasn’t such a bright idea. Not that he wasn’t beautiful. The man looked like a scruffy angel with light brown hair and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.  His face seemed like it had been sculpted by a master. She took another step backwards worrying her lower lip with her teeth. His eyes seemed to be drawn to that like a predator sensing weakness.

“I’m Ratchet. Nice to meet you, Mia.” Ratchet told her his body following hers as she hit the wall. She gasped a little when his arms landed on the wall beside her on either sides blocking her in. She came across like a frightened child which pleased him somehow. Her reaction meant that she hadn’t been around many men and that satisfied him in some way.

“You know, Mia. If you want we can discuss the price. If you play your cards right I may be able to adjust it for you, beauty.” He told her as his hand tugged at a loose curl near her ear that had escaped from her twist.

BOOK: Saving Mia
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