Lena's Happily Ever After

By: Dixie Lynn Dwyer


Lena McCabe was tired. She had worked late and came back to the trailer to another one of Ariel’s gangbanging parties. The dump was secluded behind a small building and junkyard near a bit of wooded area off a main roadway. They could be shooting off guns and no one would come looking or worry.

As she maneuvered around garbage and junky pieces of scrap metal, she saw the cars parked outside. The two Lexuses belonged to Troy and his drug-dealing cousin, Bills, as they called him, who was there, too. But what made Lena’s stomach ache and her heart rate begin to increase was the sight of the black BMW. It belonged to Triumph. As the leader of a gang in downtown Detroit, he was a feared man at twenty-four years old. In his line of business, twenty-four and living meant he had a touch of amazing luck. Most young men his age were doing time or hadn’t made it to his ripe old age altogether.

Not Triumph.

He was untouchable because he had so many people covering his back. Well, Lena wasn’t impressed, and she wasn’t interested in the life he offered. He had been sniffing around for months, trying to catch her alone and seduce her to be his “woman” and possession. Her best friend, Ariel, was a moron for getting involved with these guys. If Ariel gave a shit about her own little sister, Sage, then she wouldn’t let any of them around the sixteen-year-old girl. Instantly Lena hoped that Sage wasn’t in the trailer. She had gotten her a small job bussing tables for a restaurant. The owner was very nice and paid off the books. A family owned it, and they wanted to help Sage stay out of trouble. As long as Sage didn’t try to steal or slack in her job, she was safe working there. Ariel was a different story. She had changed over the past year. She wanted the easy way out.

Troy and Bills used her for her body, and they used the trailer as a hideout when some kind of illegal activity was being conducted and when they were in the mood to snort some coke and get laid. Usually Ariel would give her the heads-up, but the last couple of times it seemed that Ariel was under the gang’s control and she had made her decision to obey them. If it weren’t for the fact that the shelter was overcrowded with perverts and unsafe day and night, then Lena would head there. Lena was beginning to think that staying in the trailer might be just as dangerous or worse than the shelter. The whole point of taking over the trailer was for their safety. That was before she understood Triumph’s intentions.

Lena swallowed hard as she placed her bike on the side of the trailer behind a set of bushes. She’d been lucky that no one stole the piece of crap. It was her only way to and from work. Nights like this when she came back to their shithole of a trailer, she wished she had never left home. Things weren’t any better there, though. Even here, she worried about someone breaking into her bedroom and raping her.

As she pressed the branches over the bike, trying to hide it better, she smelled the scent of fried food all over her clothing. She needed a shower, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not with those guys around.

“You really think that’s going to work?”

She swung around, caught off guard. Then she stepped back, hitting the bush as she realized it was Triumph. Standing at about five feet eight inches tall, he towered over her five feet three inches. He had a tan complexion and big blue eyes that currently were absorbing the uniform she wore.

“I hope it does,” she responded, shyly turning away from him and glancing around, hoping someone else would walk outside. Triumph would think nothing of grabbing her and having his way with her. He had attempted it before, and tonight would be no different.

He stepped closer and reached over her shoulder, his muscular arm, filled with gang signs, colors, and guns, gently touched her skin. “I can still see the bike, Lena. Why you keep working at that bar anyway? There ain’t nothing but a bunch of low-life drunks.” He released the branch then clasped her ponytail with his hand. She flinched a moment, uncertain what exactly his next move might be. It depended on Triumph’s mood. She hoped he wasn’t on anything.

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