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“Colin! Get out here!” Dad shouts, and I jump to my feet, hating myself for my quick response.
“Stay here, okay? I’ll let you know when you can come out.” Call it instinct or experience, but Dad can’t go long without being an asshole if I’m around, and Vivi doesn’t need to get involved.
“Okay.” She picks up the book she left on the dresser and climbs onto her bed.
I close her door before finding Dad in the living room. “Yeah?”
“Put your worthless ass to work and unload Laura’s car.”
“He doesn’t have to do that.” A flushed Laura wraps an arm around Dad’s waist. “I can get it.”
“Baby, you’re too pretty for manual labor. Go sit your sweet ass on the couch, and I’ll bring you a beer.”
She grins sweetly up at him. “Such a good man.”
“Yeah, he’s a real winner,” I say under my breath as I walk outside. I’m pushing my luck, but I’m hoping he’s too wrapped up in Laura to hear.
“What’s that?” he asks, and I wince.
“Nothing.”
“Your attitude fuckin’ sucks, kid.” He’s hot on my heels as I walk outside to Laura’s piece of shit car. I open the trunk to find black garbage bags full of clothes, and I heft one over my shoulder. “I’ll kick you out of the house before I let you rub your stink off on that little girl in there.”
I wish I could say it hurts that he’s already choosing her over me, but I like the kid. She’s adorable and innocent while I’m. . . nothing. I hope he always chooses her over me because that means she’s safe.
“Sorry.” I almost make it past him unharmed, but I should’ve known better. He kicks his foot out to trip me, and as I’m falling, he shoves me from behind, making sure I hit the ground hard.
“Get their shit inside, and then I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night. Laura and Vivi don’t deserve to be near your pathetic ass.”
My shoulder smarts as I push myself up to stand, violent images playing in my mind: strangling him with my bare hands, stabbing him through the eye with a screwdriver, stomping on his stupid face until all I see is red. . . I won’t do any of it—not because I can’t—but because I only have two years until I’m eighteen, and I don’t want to spend that time in juvie or prison.
Two years to save all the money I can to get away from him. Two years of having a roof over my head while I try to make something of myself. Now that Vivi is here, I have two years to make sure he has no intention of directing his anger toward the little girl who’s peering out the window at me, wide-eyed and frightened.
If he even looks at her sideways, I’ll kill him. Fuck the consequences. It’d be worth spending my life in prison knowing she won’t suffer the same fate I have.
Two years.
CHAPTERONE
RIGGER
Fifteen years later…
“Church!” Cyrus shouts.
I sigh and grip Christy’s hips, pushing her off my lap where she was grinding herself all over my semi-hard cock. “I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
You can always tell how the public views your club by the caliber of patch pussy that shows up at your door. Last year, when everything went to shit for the Sons of Erebus, it was slim pickings, but now that things are turned around, the club sluts are choice. Feels fucking awesome to be winning again.
“Promise, baby?” She juts her cherry-red lower lip out at me.
“Yeah.” I stand and adjust myself before grabbing my beer from the bar and making my way to the one room in the clubhouse only ranking members can enter. I sit next to Lucky and set my bottle on the copper-top table that has our Sons of Erebus logo welded on top.
“You ready for this?” Lucky asks around the Twizzler dangling from his lips. You’d think the guy would’ve grown out of his sugar addiction now that he’s old enough for cigs and alcohol, but this motherfucker would pick a lollipop over a beer any day.
“Yup,” I say.
My brothers file in, grumbling about the girls they had to leave to be here. It’s not often Church is called when we have a house full of outsiders, but with the opening of the Honey Pot Ranch coming up, it’s unavoidable.
