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“The Halcombs are prepared to give you anything you…,”
I wheel around and for once my father looks like the frail old man he is under all that money and expensive suits.
“I take what I want. I could take their entire family out in a night and walk away with everything. They don’t have anything I want.”
“They’re prepared to give you Lorelei.”
Some of the creature I’ve become recedes.
“You can’t give a person to another.”
This time my father is the one smiling. “You should know better, son. In our world, everything is for sale.”
I give him a smile. One that clearly shows the devil I’ve become over the years. The smile that shows people why I am the president of one of the most dangerous motorcycle clubs in the state, if not in the whole damned country.
“Indeed. But never forget…you aren’t in your world anymore, old man. You're in my mine now!”
And I just got the soul I’ve been after since I was locked away years ago. I just got Lorelei Halcomb handed to me on a plate. And nothing will ever take her from me now. Nothing! Especially not any problem the little princess could bring with her. The trouble she’s got herself in has no idea what’s coming. No one messes with the Sons of Chaos or what belongs to them!
Chapter Two
____________
Lori
Being at home is…weird. So much has stayed the same but somehow everything is different. Or maybe it’s me that’s different, me that’s changed. Maybe I am a different person now after all I’ve seen, all I’ve experienced. I might still have an innocence about me because of how sheltered I’ve always been, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to what is happening in the world.
Maybe that constant need to know is the reason I chose to become a reporter. I roll and look at the ceiling of my old bedroom, thinking about how the profession I chose pissed my parents off. The very people who tried to keep me in the dark my whole life don’t like the fact I am chasing after the truth, imagine that.
Yeah, I guess after talking to the women I’ve talked to, I have changed. They were right…you can’t go home again. The old me is gone…dead! The new me…really hates where I came from.
My mom pokes her head in the door without bothering to knock because god forbid I have any privacy in this glass house world.
“How are you feeling?”
How am I feeling? How am I feeling? Really. That is the question she asks me. Oh well, I feel fine that I have a bunch of human traffickers after me and the woman who trusted me with her life is dead because of me. Thanks for asking.
Memories flash through my head of poor Joanne and the look of utter fear in her eyes as I held her while she took her last breaths. How can anyone be fine after witnessing that? Then I look at my mom as she comes in and sits on the very edge of my bed. Not a hair out of place and cut at a sharp angle so best to frame her face, the face of an aging beauty queen even.
Why is she here? Really? It’s not to find out how I feel…she doesn’t care about that. So…
“Your father went to speak to some people about your little… problem today.”
My little problem! My problem! The way my mother says it just angers me to no end. Ah yes, distance yourself as much as possible, Mom, so no fallout comes back to you. God, sometimes I wish I could just throw a rock right through their proverbial glass house.
I thought that was what I was doing when I refused to even think of marrying and went off to college. I thought I was doing that when I chose journalism as my major. I thought I was throwing a big one when I decided I was going to do a story about the evils of human fucking trafficking. But that house still stands with all of its fake as fuck occupants inside, still safe and happy as ever.
So which problem does my mom want to talk about? The hit that’s out on my head. The fact I watched someone die right in front of me. The fact I shook the beehive and expect to be killed at any moment…if I’m lucky. If I’m not they’ll take me and use me the way they did Joanne.
I turn my head away, so my mom doesn’t see the tears or the fear that lives inside of me, barely contained at any one time. It’s so much worse than even she knows.
“Really, which problem did he talk about and with whom?”
I already got the speech about knowing better than to come home with a bounty on my head and bringing such ‘disgusting business’ to their door. I wouldn’t put it past my mom and dad to turn me over as long as they are kept out of the scandal of it all.
“Don’t be lewd, dear.” I whip my head around at her reprimand. What the hell? But her next words stop me cold. “Leander St. Pierre.”
Ander. My childhood crush and the boy who left me…well, crushed when he told me he wanted nothing to do with me. I roll my eyes at the silly jump my heart gives. Stupid thing. Stupid silly organ that will only leave me with one more problem and no solution. I got Jay-Z beat. I got ninety-nine problems and all of them are bitches that I can’t get away from.
