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“So to clarify, you fought fire with fire yesterday. Came in guns blazing without thinking of all the scenarios and consequences that could unfold for you?” My eyes widen, surprised by the fact that they acted so rash.
“We can face anything as a club. Nothing would have stopped what happened yesterday. Nothing.” I can tell by the tightness of Ryker’s jaw that he believes every word he’s saying, and it’s not my place to get involved. But one thing is for certain, I need to get the fuck out of here. As soon as possible.
“Okay, are we done here?” I ask, rising to my feet.
“For now,” the Viking states with a nod.
“Good.”
I think I’m safe from any further questioning, but one of them clears their throat.
“Out of interest, what makes you say that?”
“Say what?” I ask, playing dumb as I glance over my shoulder to lock eyes with Ryker who asked the question.
“About us not considering the consequences that could unfold for us.”
I consider whether I should keep my mouth shut, but it’s more than the members of this club that could be at risk. It’s the old ladies, the children, the innocent, and I can’t live with their blood on my hands.
I take a deep breath, turning to face them properly as I open the door behind me. “I haven’t had an easy life, but that’s really a story for another day that involves a lot of tequila. I’ve seen brutal men, been raised by them even, but after seeing the state of some of the girls after another club showed up, demanding shit and taking whatever they wanted, I knew I had truly seen evil.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the memory as the four Ruthless Brothers frown at me.
“And who was that?”
“The Devil’s Brutes, and the Reapers were twisted up in all of their dealings for sure.”
EIGHT
Scarlett
I sit perchedon the edge of the picnic bench, my feet resting on the seat with my elbows propped on my knees as the sun sets in the distance. The blue skies that blossomed above earlier, are now tinged with oranges and reds, preparing us for the darkness that will follow.
This is always my favorite part of the day. It’s like time stands still, the crossing between day and night almost mystical as you watch it happen, unable to stop it from unfolding before your eyes.
I’ve been out here since I left Church. Mr. Shades and Ryker headed over to the on-site garage earlier, and they’ve been there ever since, but otherwise, I’ve been left to my own devices.
At first, I was tempted to hop the fence that secures the perimeter, wave goodbye to yet another biker club, and find the future I’ve been longing for. But it quickly became apparent that even though Ryker and his main men were leaving me alone, every other man out here in the yard had eyes on me.
No one approached, but the energy and atmosphere it created made one thing certain. I wasn’t going anywhere without their say-so.
As the day turns into dusk, the people out in the yard slowly change before my eyes. The kids that were playing on the tire swing earlier are long gone, replaced by bodies of people looking to have a good time.
Sighing, I sit straighter and wince as my stomach grumbles.
I haven’t eaten all day. That’s nothing new to me. The Reapers would go days without letting me have food, but it still doesn’t stop the discomfort and yearning inside of me.
Deciding whether I should venture inside is an easy decision as a group of guys stumble out into the yard and start rolling around in the grass to my right. I’m not in the mood to witness a fist fight, not when I’m hangry.
Jumping off the picnic bench, I make sure my cell is tucked comfortably into my back pocket as I head inside. I keep my head down, slipping through the busy crowd of people in the bar area, hoping to avoid anyone’s eye.
I’m very aware I’m here as a whore, and even though I’ve been left alone while the sun was shining and the kids were around, it doesn’t mean the same will apply in the depths of the night.
I’ve witnessed the change in men in these surroundings before.
If I can slip into the kitchen and find something to eat and make it to my room without being stopped, I’ll call that a win. But it’s just my luck that I push through the door at the opposite end of the bar area to find the kitchen filled with women.
Some are in skimpy outfits, others in jeans and a tee, but all of them are glaring at me. If I step in there with confidence and my hangry attitude right now, I’ll cause a war, which will likely lead to my head being put on a spike and not theirs.
