Indian Self Film

It was for the greater good, well his greater good, which was what mattered.He gave her a few minutes to process before he slowly moved and knelt down in front of her. He lifted her chin and looked into her teary eyes. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’m not going to kill you.” ‘Someone else will’ he mentally added.“There are some ... things that have to be done first, but eventually you will be free again. You’ll even have enough money to take care of your family and never have to work again. It will all work out. For right now you’re going to have to trust me and well, because you have no choice. Just keep in mind you will get what you want in the end.” He knew he had just utterly shattered her world as she knew it, but he hoped in the ashes of her despair he had planted a seed of hope.Echo heard him speaking to her, but his steady voice sounded oceans away. For the next fifteen minutes she was utterly tortured by her reality, and an even less kind imagination.She refused to. He moved from behind her and she fell to the filthy floor.The clubhouse door banged open and Steve Monahan, the Club President,strode into club and cast his gaze around the smoke-hazed room. Drunkand stoned bikers slept where they had fallen, some snuggled up to mommasor their old ladies but most were just collapsed bundles of tattooedmuscle, denim and leather.His eyes fell on Cassie and Kyle zipping his pants."I told you guys I want that gone. You've had your fun with it; now getrid of it like I said," Steve growled."Yes boss," Kyle replied.He lifted Cassie's head and sucker punched her and knocked her out cold.Cassie had fleeting moments of consciousness. She vaguely rememberedbeing unchained and carried out into the Club's crash truck which usuallycarried beer, spare motorcycle parts, weapons, and dope on the Club'sruns.She remembered lying in the hot sun on burning sand while a prospect duga hole in the desert soil. She remembered Brin Sarsgaard, the Burden'sSargent at Arms.
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