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She’s batshit crazy, as far as I can tell. “Fine. You’re an old lady. Tell me about Shawn, about the Nomad Kings. How the fuck do you fit in?”
Instead of answering me, we’re interrupted, but I don’t mind because it’s Atomic who walks through the door. He stops as soon as he lays eyes on the whore standing in front of me. Then he frowns.
“Atomic, good to see you. This bitch knows who has Shawn, what they plan on doing to her, and why. Although I don’t have the why figured out or how she’s involved. But since I can’t get it out of her, I think you’ll be able to.”
There is silence. Poison looks like she’s about to shit herself, and that’s fucking fantastic for me. Completely goddamn fantastic. I keep waiting for Poison to say something, to do something, but she stands completely still as she watches and waits for something to happen. Then she narrows her gaze on me and turns to Atomic.
“Baby,” she breathes. “Remember how good I am to you.”
She’s completely changed her tone and her focus. It’s no longer on me but instead on Atomic. She’s such a loyal woman. Why wouldn’t I dream of making her my old lady? I chuckle to myself but then groan because it hurts.
“Yeah, I remember how you’re a whore. That’s what I remember. So you want to tell me what you know?”
“Or?” she asks.
“Or we kill you,” another voice announces casually.
Shifting my gaze behind Atomic, I watch Strings waltz through the door. He leans against the jamb, his eyes on Poison. Then he clears his throat and pushes off the door, moving toward us. Before anyone can say anything else, he lifts his hand, grips the back of her hair, and tugs her neck so hard that I think I hear something snap.
“You’re going to tell us everything we want to know,” he hisses.
“And if I don’t? You know, I have the Nomads’ protection,” she says, her voice sounding strained.
I laugh. It hurts, but I let it out because the fact that she thinks she has any protection at all right now is goddamn laughable.
“How?” Atomic asks. “How do you have any protection from them?”
A second goddamn bombshell is dropped right here in the middle of the fucking hospital.
“I’m Prez’s daughter. The second one. The one he doesn’t give a fuck about.”
“Well, shit the bed and call me sir,” Atomic announces.
I laugh again, moaning with the pain. Fucking hell. What a time for Atomic to be funny. I’m trying to get the fuck out of here, and he’s over here making jokes about shitting beds. I can’t with him.
No more words are spoken. Strings and Atomic take the bitch out of the hospital, and then I’m left alone. I stare at the ceiling, wondering what kind of fuckery this is, and at the same time, how I got into this shit and how that cunt infiltrated our club.
SHAWN
Day three.
I think.
I’ve been given a loaf of shitty bread and water to drink. What I haven’t been given is a bathroom break. I’ve already pissed in the corner of my cage twice. Which is completely disgusting, but I didn’t have a choice.
There is silence, so much silence, and all I want to do is cry about the whole thing. Except I have no more tears left to cry. There’s nothing left inside of me, and I realize now that this is what he wants from me. He wants to break me, so I’ll do whatever he demands of me.
This isn’t about me being his daughter.
This isn’t about me at all.
This is about control and the Dark Horse MC.
He has some kind of vendetta against them, or maybe he just wants to be a dick to them because he’s an asshole. Maybe he wants to take them over or something. I have no idea how their stuff works, but this all seems super extreme.
I can’t pretend I know anything about either of them, but I know an asshole when I see one. I’ve been around enough of those in my life, and my father is indeed one of them. I refuse to give him what he wants, though.
It’s no longer even about Elvis and the way I feel about him. It’s more about refusing to let this asshole control me. He seriously thinks he can kidnap me and I’m going to do whatever he wants me to.
