Devils Cut

Chapter 1

Tempest Miller

The stench of gasoline and burnt rubber assaulted my nostrils as I stepped out of the shit box car I bought back in LA. The Phoenix sun beat down on me, sweat already trickling down my spine. My heart pounded like a jackhammer against my ribcage, but I couldn”t let that slow me down. I needed a job, and I needed one fast. I slammed the door behind me, not giving a fuck about the rusted hinges screeching in protest.

”Alright, Tempest,” I muttered to myself trying to get used to the name. Taking a deep breath and rolling my shoulders. ”You got this.”

I walked down the main street with determination, my eyes scanning the buildings for any ”Help Wanted” signs. Some might think I was walking through fire with the way my legs moved, but I knew better. Life had taught me that if you didn”t hustle, you”d get left behind, and I wasn”t about to let that happen. Not now, not ever.

”Come on, there”s gotta be something,” I whispered under my breath, my boots pounding the pavement like war drums. Storefront after storefront passed by, each one seeming more uninviting than the last. My stomach twisted with anxiety, but I couldn”t let fear take over. I came here for a reason, and I wasn”t leaving until I found what I was looking for.

”Shit, nothing,” I grumbled, frustration building inside me. I paused for a moment, catching my breath and wiping my brow with the back of my hand.

As I continued down the street, I couldn”t help but feel the weight of my past bearing down on me. All the shit I”d been through, all the pain and suffering – it fuelled me, pushing me forward. I refused to let anyone control me again, and that started with finding a job and a fresh start in this godforsaken city.

What about that place? I thought to myself, spotting a dingy bar, with a few bikes parked out the front. I quickly ran across the road and stood before a bar, its neon sign flickering like a dying ember. The grungy exterior screamed trouble, but something deep inside me whispered that this might be my shot at safety.

Maybe these guys could protect me if he ever found me, I thought, taking a shaky breath. My heart raced as I squared my shoulders and pushed open the door.

Inside, the dimly lit bar seemed to swallow me whole. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, threatening to choke me. As I scanned the room, my eyes landed on a woman behind the bar – a living, breathing work of art. She was beautiful, with long, tanned legs showcased by booty shorts and a small crop top that barely contained her large breasts.

”Hey, you guys lookin” for help?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

The bartender looked me over, her eyes narrowing slightly. She leaned on the counter, folding her arms across her chest. ”Yeah, we might be. You got any experience?”

I hesitated for a second, then shrugged. ”A bit. Worked at a place back home.” I didn”t want to mention Australia, but it wasn”t a lie. I had worked in a bar before, even if it was only for a few days.

”Alright. Let me grab a form for you to fill out,” she said, disappearing momentarily before returning with a clipboard and pen. ”You”ll need to leave your contact info, and if our VP is interested, he”ll give you a call.”

”Thanks,” I mumbled, scribbling down my information, my hand shaking slightly. It wasn”t just nerves; I knew I needed this job, not just for the money, but for the potential safety it offered.

”Name”s Amanda, by the way,” she said as I finished filling out the form. ”If the VP is interested, he”ll give you a call.”

”Thanks, Amanda.” My heart pounded in my chest. This was it, this was my chance to start over.

”Good luck,” she replied, her eyes still sizing me up. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her gaze. But I couldn”t let that bother me; I needed to be strong, for myself.

”See ya,” I mumbled, gathering my courage and turning on my heel to leave the bar. The door creaked behind me as I stepped back onto the street.

Outside, the slowly setting sun cast a glow on the row of motorcycles parked along the curb. There were at least eight bikes now, gleaming and menacing. It struck me as odd – there had only been two people in the bar when I walked in. Where the hell were the others?

“Maybe a back entrance?” I muttered under my breath, trying to shake off the unease.

I glanced back at the bar one last time before heading down the street, my steps echoing in the deserted alley. The wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of exhaust and the distant murmur of traffic. My thoughts raced as I walked, wondering if this place could really offer me the sanctuary I so desperately craved.

”Come on, Tempest,” I whispered to myself. ”You”ve made it this far. Just keep pushin”, and you”ll find your freedom.”

The sign of a real estate office caught my eye as I continued down the street. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I pushed open the door and strode inside, determined to find a place of my own.

”Hi,” I said to the woman behind the desk, who looked up at me with a mixture of surprise and vague disdain. ”I”m lookin” for a place to buy – somethin” cheap, but liveable.”

The receptionist eyed me up and down, she raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering how someone like me could afford anything in this city. But without comment, she handed me a printed list of properties for sale.

”Thanks,” I muttered, scanning the list. ”How do I go about viewing some of these?”

”Drive by a few,” she suggested dismissively, her eyes already returning to her computer screen. ”If you see one that interests you, come back and we”ll set up a viewing.”

”Alright,” I replied, grabbing the paper and heading back out into the street. I couldn”t shake the feeling that I was being judged, but it didn”t matter. None of them knew what I”d been through to get where I was now.

I slammed the door of my beat-up car, its rusty hinges protesting with a loud creak. The sun was setting, and orange light splattered across the concrete jungle that was Phoenix. I whipped out my fancy new iPhone, something I”d never have been able to afford back in Australia. I tried not to think of that place and the memories that came crawling” back like poisonous spiders.

”Alright, Siri,” I muttered, pullin” up the maps app. ”Let”s find these damn houses.”

The engine roared to life, and I peeled away from the curb, following the directions on my phone. My heart pounded like a jackhammer, but I couldn”t let fear hold me back any longer.

”First one”s comin” up on the left,” I said aloud, though no one else was in the car. Talkin” helped quiet the demons in my head. I slowed down as I approached the first property on the list, but it looked more like a crack den than a home. Shaking my head, I moved on to the next one.

”Number two,” I announced, pulling up outside another dilapidated hovel. This one was even worse than the first – boarded-up windows stared at me like empty eye sockets. ”Nope. Not happenin”.” I clenched my hands around the steering wheel, swallowin” my frustration.

”Alright, last one,” I whispered, gearing” myself up for disappointment. I took a deep breath and rounded the corner, but what I saw next made my heart skip a beat. There it was – a small, single-story house with a broken fence out front. It wasn”t perfect, but it had potential. It felt like... home.

”Finally,” I breathed, relief washin” over me like a cool wave. I pulled over, and my eyes traced the contours of the little house. It needed work, that was for damn sure, but it was somewhere I could start rebuilding myself.

I would head back to the real estate now, and see if I could get that viewing. I didn’t want to sleep in my car again, but I would have to keep it up till I was able to secure this little house I now looked at.

I could still remember the look on that bank teller”s face when I pulled out the stack of cash, countin” each bill carefully. She didn”t know what to make of it, and honestly, neither did I. But that money was my ticket to a new life, far away from Greg and his twisted games.

”Thanks, Jess,” I whispered under my breath, sendin” a silent prayer to my friend back home for helpin” me out. Hopefully, Greg would never think to search her bank account and connect the dots.

I prayed silently, hoping he would give up on me and let me fade away into the wind, nothing but a distant memory. I was aware that he would continue to haunt my dreams every night, but the more time I spent apart from him, the less vivid they became.