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“Yeah, something like that.”
I don’t ask for any details, mainly because I don’t want to know. I don’t care. I don’t give a shit about him or my mother. I just want to waste his time in an attempt to figure out how to get out of this goddamn fucking cage and away from these freaks.
He crouches down in front of me again, just like he did before… however many days ago it was. I’m not even sure at this point. He wraps his fingers around the bars of the cage again and leans forward before he speaks.
“There are women who would kill to be in your position. Your sister is one of them.”
Sister?
He laughs as if it is the funniest thing he’s ever heard before. “Poison, I believe that’s what she’s called. She’s your sister. And she would do just about anything to be where you are, promised to a brother.”
I almost laugh with him, not just because the whole thing sounds ridiculous as hell, but because I don’t think she cares what member she’s with as long as he’s in an MC. She is all about being an old lady. I don’t understand it, but I can see now that she was raised in this, and she wants that title.
“But why me and not her?” I ask.
He straightens, releasing the cage, and takes a step backward. “She’s been making me money since she was thirteen years old, just like her mother. No brother is going to claim a trick.”
“But you claimed my mother,” I whisper.
He arches a brow. “You assume your mother was a prostitute. She wasn’t. She came to the club as a teenager, just wanting to party. I showed her a good time. She got knocked up. She probably whored herself later, but I never did it.”
Hearing him talk about my mother, I can’t help but feel bad for her. It doesn’t excuse the physical or drug abuse, but I understand her a little more now. I’ll never forgive her or forget anything she did, but at least I can comprehend why she is the way she is a bit better. This man, without a doubt, mind-fucked her.
Before I can ask any other questions, not that I have anything I need to know at this point, there is a noise that shuts me up. It’s loud, a loud popping noise. It almost sounds like fireworks. I move to the corner of the cage, bring my knees up, and wrap my arms around them.
Shade turns his head, then grunts before he rushes out of the room, grabbing the gun that’s holstered at his hip. There is shouting and more popping noises, and that’s when I realize it’s not just popping noises, it’s gunshots.
Each time they sound, my body jumps. I don’t know if these gunshots are coming from Elvis’s people or some other group. I have a feeling that my father’s club has more enemies than friends. The door opens, but there are still shots being fired.
I don’t know who I expect to walk into the room, but it isn’t one of the men who was trying to marry me. I’m not even sure if this is the one who won the whole marriage thing or not. I didn’t really pay attention to which one was which.
“Let’s get you out of here, baby,” he says, the word baby coming on a purr, and it sends a shiver of disgust down my spine.
I watch as he reaches for the door and tugs on it, expecting it to be unlocked, which is hilarious because if it were unlocked, I would have been long gone. I would have been wind. That was the first thing I checked after I had myself a good cry.
“Well, fuck,” he snaps.
I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair, then starts to pace, his eyes wildly scanning the room, likely for something to break me out of this cage. I’m not sure what he expects to find. I don’t think I’ve seen any saws or anything just lying around, but who the hell knows.
Then the door opens.
The man pauses at the sight in front of him, but I smile. It’s Elvis. I’m too excited to really take him in, to drink him in fully. I can’t believe he’s standing right in front of me, and I crawl to the door of the cage and practically pant like the animal I am right now.
“What the fuck?” Elvis hisses, his gaze on mine.
But he doesn’t see the other person in the room. He doesn’t see that asshole as he charges him, and I watch as his face screws up in pain as he is pushed flat on his back. I hear his wail, and I know that something is wrong.
Very, very wrong.
KING
My father is old school.
One of the reasons he’s fucking awesome, but sometimes, it causes more shit than it’s worth. This is not one of those times. This is an awesome time. Atomic can’t protest. His hands are tied. My father was like a second father to him. He will never tell him no, not fucking ever.
We all ride up on our bikes to the clubhouse and start shooting. The men run out of the brick building, their guns ready and pointed as we exchange bullets. It doesn’t take long for the shooting to stop.
I watch as Shade rushes from around the back and thinks he’s going to accomplish something. He doesn’t. I shoot him right in the chest. I don’t know if I kill him or not. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to pile all these bodies into their clubhouse and light the whole fucking thing on fire.
