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PROLOGUE
TEAGAN
Aged 10
“The fuck are you doin’ here, bitch?” I hear my dad snarl from behind me, his footsteps heavy as he stumbles into the kitchen. He’s still drunk from last night.
“Cooking,” I reply without thinking, and instantly brace myself. I’m never to talk back to him. Never to speak out of turn. I’m to do exactly as he tells me, and if I don’t, I have to face the consequences.
His beefy hand grabs a handful of my hair, pulling it from the roots. Tears fill my eyes, but before they can fall, he slams my head down on the counter. My nose crunches against the granite, and my mouth fills with a metallic taste I’ve grown to know all too well as blood.
“Fuckin’ bitch. Talkin’ back… What have I told you about that shit? Hmm? Now get the fuck outta here. I don’t wanna see you for the rest of the day.”
It’s hard for me to breathe. Between the blood in my mouth and whatever has happened to my nose, I’m struggling to get oxygen into my lungs.
I scurry out of the kitchen the second he releases my hair, leaving a trail of blood behind me. I press a hand to my nose to try and stop it, but it’s no use. The blood is flowing like a river. I think he broke my nose.
Once I’m in my bedroom, I sink to the floor and pray that the bleeding stops soon.
“Girl,” I hear a while later. “The doc’s here for you.”
I glance up at Lola. She’s one of the club girls—the only one who is nice to me. She looks after me whenever I’m hurting. She’s always been the kindest woman here. She also taught me to read and write, something I had no knowledge about until I was seven. I’m not the greatest reader, but I’m determined. One day, I’ll be out of this hell, and I’ll need those skills.
“Oh, honey, what happened?” Lola asks.
“I forgot,” I whisper. “I answered back.”
Her eyes darken for a moment, before she shakes her head. “The doc’s here to look at you. Okay?”
I nod. The doctor is a man my father and the other brothers pay to ensure they’re all taken care of, if need be.
“They’re going on a run tomorrow. They’ll be gone for a while. You’ll stay here. You’ll have some recuperation time.”
That seems to happen a lot. Whenever my dad goes a little too far with hurting me, the brothers go on a run. They’re usually gone for at least five days. Once before, they were gone for a month. That was the happiest time of my life. I was able to do whatever I wanted without worrying about the consequences.
Lola lets the doctor into my room. He shakes his head when he sees me, but just like everyone else, he won’t do anything about it. No one goes against my father. The Dirty Demons MC are animals. They do whatever they want, and people are too scared to say anything.
“It’s broken,” he tells me. “I’m going to have to clean you up and then get this fixed and bandaged,” he explains.
It’s not the first time the doctor has cleaned me up, this also isn’t the first broken bone that he’s had to set.
“It’s going to be hard to breathe for a while, but it’ll get easier,” he says, a little warmth in his voice.
“Thanks, Doc,” I whisper.
“Alright, girl,” Lola says as she helps me to the bed. “I’ll bring you some food later on. Stay in here and you’ll be okay.”
I nod, grateful that she’s here. I’m not sure what I’d do without her. She is without a doubt the best thing about this club. I reach for my teddy, the one I had brought with me when I arrived here, and clutch it tight. It was from my mom. The memories I have of her are long gone. I can’t even remember her face.
* * *
Aged 18
I trembleas I hear people arguing above me. I know what they’re saying. I know what they’re planning. My stomach rolls at the thought of it.
“She ain’t goin’ anywhere,” my dad snarls. “She’s property of Dirty Demons. That means she’s ours. She ain’t leavin’. Not now. Not ever.”
I hate him. God, I hate that man with every fiber of my being. Not once has he treated me as his daughter. Not once has he showed me that he actually cares about me. All he’s done is hurt and humiliate me in ways I’ll never recover from. The back of my thighs and ass are covered in scars. All tiny little burns. They all hurt like hell while they were being done, but over the years, I’ve learned to mask my expression and not allow the pain to escape me. The cigarette burns that mar my skin are my warrior marks. I survived them, and I’ll continue to survive everything that happens to me in this hell hole.
