AllFreeNovel
Share Us
True.
“If I don’t sign it?” I ask.
Legacy’s gaze flicks to the desk, then he slowly lifts it to me. “If you say no and nobody else here wants her, then she goes back to Raul and Dutch. They’ll do with her what they wish.”
That means they’ll sell her to the highest bidder. I won’t let that happen. Our age difference be damned. There’s something about her I just can’t ignore. Something I need to discover.
Something that calls to me.
“There a time frame on this?” I ask.
“On getting a signature?” he asks. “Or on not touching Dutch?”
“The second,” I grunt.
His lips curve up into a grin. “No time frame. Pretty sure it’s just a ‘don’t touch Dutch or Cyrus in general’ kind of thing.”
I think about that for a moment. If I don’t sign this, one of my brothers might take Piper as his own. I’m not sure if I could watch one of them have her. Not when she is meant to be mine.
Though, if I’m being honest, none of my brothers would probably do that to me, so that would mean she goes back to Raul… to Dutch. I can’t let that happen because her fate would likely be one worse than death.
“So basically, I’m fucked,” I say.
“Basically.”
“I’m signing this, but it’s under protest,” I grind out.
Legacy snorts, but it’s not because he thinks this is comical in any way. His hands are tied by the same rope that bind mine. Clearing my throat, I lean down, grab a pen from his desk, and turn the document around to face me.
I scan the papers until I get to the part where I have to initial that I won’t kill Dutch or Cyrus. I initial it, though I feel sick to my stomach the moment the pen touches the paper. Then my stomach flips when I sign the end of the document making Piper mine.
She now belongs to me, and there is something about that, something that should feel wrong, but it doesn’t. I’m twenty-three years older than her. I could be her father. It’s forbidden in so many ways.
There is no fucking way I should even be contemplating this, let alone signing this document. But as I write the date, the fate sealed, I wonder if I’ve just completely fucked her life up even more than it already was.
“The fact you are even saying that, that you give a fuck, means she won’t have a fucked-up life,” Legacy murmurs.
I hadn’t realized I said any of that out loud. Inwardly, I curse myself for showing my vulnerability when it comes to this. The last thing I want is to appear weak in front of anyone, especially Legacy.
Once I’ve finished signing and initialing, I straighten my back and take a step backward. Pressing my lips together, I stare at my president for a moment. Waiting. Wondering what is next. It’s clear that he isn’t finished yet.
“Do you want to have a real wedding?” he asks.
I decide to leave it up to Piper and tell him as much before I walk out of the office, out of the club. Climbing onto my bike, I ride to the shop so I can take my frustration out on some cars. But before I reach the shop, my bike changes course, and I head straight for the Hell’s Souls place.
PIPER
With the door closed, I stay in my room for longer than I should. It’s what I do every day. Only when the pangs of thirst and hunger are too much to bear do I emerge. It’s easier to stay out of sight this way.
Raul is long gone, likely never to be seen again, if I know him at all, which I do. Dutch the same. Cyrus is somewhere out there, and while I’m terrified he’ll find me again, I don’t think he will.
At least, not while I’m here with these men. Cyrus talks a big talk, and he’ll beat you while you’re under his control, but in reality, he’s weak. He wouldn’t chase anyone. He’ll only run. And that is exactly what he’s been doing.
Slipping out of the bedroom, I make my way to the bathroom, my clothes in hand. Not for the first time, I wish there were a bathroom attached to this bedroom. It would make it so much easier to stay completely hidden.
I start the water, then wait for it to heat before I step into the shower’s stream. As much as I want to stay beneath the warm water, I fight the urge and shower quickly, then I dress for another day.
My wardrobe is simple, not that I picked any of it out myself. I’ve got some cut-off jean shorts the different girls in the club gave me because they didn’t want them anymore, and the same goes for some old tank tops and T-shirts. Most of them are too big, especially in the chest, but that’s better for me—I’d rather hide my body at this point.
