The First Cut (Raven Soul MC #3)

Prologue

Lola

I stare out the window at our small backyard and blink back tears.

As I place the last dish on the drying rack, I grab the kitchen towel and wipe my eyes, quickly hiding my feelings with a fake smile.

I glance at my reflection in the windowpane and nod.

Everyone will buy it—they always do.

I’ve mastered the art of faking it, which shouldn’t be surprising.

I’ve been doing it since I was eleven and caught my father with another woman.

My father’s threats of what he’d do to my mother if I ever told her bought my silence and fake smiles for years.

He tried to smooth it over by showering me with expensive gifts, but that only made me feel dirty and even more like a traitor than I was by keeping quiet.

But everywhere I went people gushed about how lucky and spoiled I was, especially my friends.

I hated every second of it, but I bit my tongue until it bled and smiled until my cheeks ached.

It wasn’t until I turned sixteen that everything came crashing down.

A drunk driver killed my dad-–the drunk driver being my dad himself.

His pregnant mistress died right next to him.

When the cops showed up to tell us—not just about his death, but his affair—I realized my mom had known all along.

I don’t remember much else of what they said—my thoughts were tangled up in a mess.

After they left, I broached the subject while she made us tea.

“Of course I knew. A woman always knows. Plus, I hired a private detective to follow him around to collect evidence in case he ever tried to divorce me.”

I stare at her, my mouth hanging open in shock.

“He blackmailed me. He told me he’d cut your brakes or ? —”

“He knew there was an infidelity clause in the prenup,” she says, lifting her teacup to her lips to take a sip.

I feel sick to my stomach.

“But if you knew what he did, then why’d you stay?”

What I don’t ask is why did she stay and make me live in this house with a man I hated.

“Do you think the other women in my circle aren’t dealing with the same thing? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s the price we wives pay for marrying rich. We lay by the pool and shop on 5th Avenue with smiles on our faces, wearing diamonds purchased with guilt money. As long as the mistress keeps her legs open, we wives keep our mouths shut to avoid gossip and scandal. In this world, reputation is everything. So what if my husband has a toy to play with? I’m the wife, that’s all that matters. Becoming vocal about where they put their dicks and making demands, is when they start flaunting their side piece in public, showing off the younger model in the country club like she’s an accessory. It’s pathetic. Everything we built would be reduced to tatters for other people’s amusements.”

“Dirty secrets don’t stay secret for long when they end up pregnant.” I snap.

“A baby is an easy fix.”

I don’t even try to hide my look of disgust from her.

“I guess that’s the difference between us. I’d rather be alone and happy than live a life where everything was fake, including the love you’re supposed to have for each other. The first time a man cheated on me would also be his last.”

The fact that she was never financially dependent on him, and in a position to leave at any time somehow makes it all worse.

“Ah, the naivety of youth. You don’t get it now, Lola, but you will one day. You’ll make choices that you never thought you’d have to, and the only thing that will get you through is your conviction to do so. You have to pick what you can and can’t live without. I can’t live without money and power, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. It’s what makes the world go round after all.

I take a deep breath and watch as she takes another sip of her tea, the smell of whisky and lemon permeating the air. Spiked tea at ten am? I don’t think she was unaffected, as she was trying to make out.

The phone ringing snaps me out of my walk down memory lane, which is probably for the best. I try not to think about my mother much these days.

It’s been years since I last saw her. She disowned me when I refused to give up Havoc—back when he was just Jonas, the first and only boy I ever loved.

When the phone stops ringing, I hear Havoc revving the bike he’s working on.

A few months ago, I would’ve sat on the deck steps just to watch him. I didn’t know a thing about bikes, so I couldn’t help, but being around him always calmed something inside me. I was grateful for that.

As much as Havoc loved the club, I didn’t. I always ended up a nervous wreck when we were summoned to the clubhouse.

I wanted to like it. Lord knows I’ve tried everything to fit in. I changed the way I dressed to look the part. And when a few comments were made, I even had my boobs done. I tried to be everything Havoc needed me to be. But in the process, I lost myself a little more each day.

And after finding out this morning I’m pregnant, I suddenly have this inexplicable urge to run. Every instinct I have is telling me to take my baby and leave. But how do I walk away from the man I’ve loved since the moment I was old enough to understand what love was?

I jump when the phone rings again. Cupping my still-flat stomach, I walk toward the noise, finding Havoc’s phone on the arm of the couch. I pick it up and my stomach drops when I see it’s Khan, the president of Havoc’s club. He’s never done anything to me, but he’s always rubbed me the wrong way.

I answer anyway, knowing Havoc’s neck will be on the line if I don’t. “Hello?

”

“Put Havoc on the phone,” he grunts.

“He’s working on his dad’s bike. I’ll get?—”

“I don’t have all day, girl,” he barks at me.

I don’t say anything, I just head outside.

“Havoc,” I shout and wait as he turns around.

He grins at me, and something inside me breaks a little more.

I love him so damn much, yet he can’t see that I’m slowly fading away right in front of him.

“It’s Khan,” I tell him as he jogs over and plants a kiss on my lips before taking the phone from me.

I head back inside, knowing Khan wouldn’t want me overhearing anything.

In his eyes, women are only good for fucking and feeding the brothers.

He might not say that shit around Havoc, but I’ve heard him with some of the others—Driller, Havoc’s brother, being one of the worst.

If there’s anyone I disliked more than Khan, it’s him.

Something about the way Driller looks at me makes my skin crawl.

Thankfully, he and Havoc aren’t close.

Havoc might bail him out of trouble whenever he gets himself into trouble—which is quite a lot,thanks to Driller’s inability to act like an adult—but at least I never have to worry about him sitting at my table and breaking bread with the man.

I head to the coffee machine and start a pot, but at the last minute, I swap out the regular coffee for decaf.

“I’ve gotta head to the clubhouse.”

I look over my shoulder when Havoc walks up behind me.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back, so don’t bother cooking. I’ll pick something up on the way home or send a prospect over with something for you if I’m running late.”

His hands move to my hips before he yanks me to him and buries his face in my hair.

“That’s fine. I’ll probably just curl up on the sofa and watch something on TV.” I turn and look up at him.

I need to tell him about the baby.

“Havoc…” My voice cracks.

“What’s wrong?”

But before I can say anything else, his phone chimes.

I offer him one of my fake smiles, which makes me want to scream when he doesn’t call me on it, and shake my head.

I’ll tell him later, when he gets back.

It’s also time I told him just how much I’m struggling.

“Nothing. It doesn't matter. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he says, kissing my forehead, making my eyes sting as I fight back tears. He grabs his cut from the back of the chair and pulls it on.

“I’ll text you and let you know what’s happening.”

“Okay, bye,” I whisper as I watch him walk away. He pauses, and in my head, I’m begging him to stay, to help me fix what is broken between us. But then his phone chimes, and he’s gone–the door slamming shut behind him.

I turn and grip the kitchen counter, dropping my head. I wonder when this house stopped feeling like home. It was probably around the same time Havoc started to feel less like mine and more like Khan’s. With a sigh, I run my hands through my hair and lift my head, deciding to soak in the tub for a while.

So I grab one of the books I picked up at the grocery store today and spend the next few hours losing myself in a world full of dragons.

It’s not until the water’s gone cold that I realize how late it’s gotten. I chuckle at how many hours I’ve lost reading, but I know there are worse habits. I climb out and towel off before slipping on one of Havoc’s T-shirts.

I pad over to the nightstand where I left my phone charging and frown when I see that Havoc hasn’t texted me.

It’s nine-thirty, so I’m guessing he forgot all about having food sent over for me. That’s okay. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately anyway.

I head downstairs and make myself a couple of slices of toast and another coffee as I never did drink the first one. I curl up on the sofa and turn on the crime channel, getting drawn into an episode of Cold Cases—one where the husband’s crying on screen.

“He did it,” I mumble to myself.

As I watch, my eyes get heavy, so I pull the throw from the back of the sofa and cover myself with it. before I settle back in and fall asleep. When I wake up, I have a crick in my neck, and sunlight is pouring in through the windows.

I fumble for my phone on the table and see it’s eight-thirty in the morning. I frown when I still don’t have any texts or missed calls from Havoc. A sick feeling makes my stomach clench as I get to my feet and head upstairs to the bedroom.

The bed is empty, my eyes confirming what my gut already knew—he didn’t come home.

The sick feeling intensifies. I know I’m not the ideal old lady, but I’m trying. He wouldn’t cheat on me... would he?

But then I think of the club girls—and all the brothers that do cheat—and cover my mouth as I run to the bathroom and throw up.

By the time I’m finished, my head’s pounding, and I know it’s only going to get worse. I push myself to my feet, a little unsteady, then wash my face and brush my teeth.

When a loud knock echoes through the house, I freeze before my brain kicks into gear. What if he didn’t stay at the clubhouse? What if he got hurt and he’s in the hospital… or worse?

I run to the door, not caring that I’m only wearing Havoc’s T-shirt. Yanking it open, I come face-to-face with Driller.

My stomach drops.

“Tell me he’s okay,” I plead.

He pushes me inside and closes the door behind him. “He’s in jail.”

“What? No, that can’t be.”

“Funny, because it is. And he ain’t getting out for a long time.”

“No.” I grip my hair, which is when I notice Driller checking out my bare legs. I take a step back. “I’ll go get dressed and head to the police station.”

“Don’t bother. He doesn’t want to see anyone—especially not you.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t believe you.”

He shrugs and pulls out his phone. Tapping the screen, he places a call and puts it on speaker. “Khan? I’m with Lola. She doesn’t believe me about Havoc.”

Khan sighs. “It’s true. I needed a man inside, and he volunteered. He’s going to be in there for a while, too.”

“I don’t understand. He wouldn’t just leave without talking to me.”

“Look, Lola. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but I can’t leave you hanging. He hooked up with Razzle last night. Guess he realized what he’d been missing and decided to kill two birds with one stone. Now, he can do the club a favor and split from you without the drama. I’m sorry it went down this way, but it is what it is.”

I stare at the phone, refusing to believe a damn word he’s saying. I know Havoc, despite my insecurities messing with my head earlier. He wouldn’t take the coward’s way out. He’s always faced everything head-on. If he wanted me gone, he would‘ve told me that himself.

“You gotta figure out your place here now, Lola. I know you don’t have anywhere to go, and the house you live in is Havoc’s.”

“What do you mean, my place?” I whisper, my mind going in a million directions. If I go down to the police station and beg them to let me see him, they have to, right?

“Women here fall into two categories: club girls and old ladies. You’re no longer an old lady, so that makes you fair game,” Khan reminds me.

“I’ll leave. I’m not becoming a club girl. No way.”

“Where are you going to go, huh? Who’s gonna take you in? Nobody. You’ve got nothing and no one who isn’t linked to the club. Havoc told us all about your rich, uppity family and how they disowned you when you chose Havoc over them. Do you think they’ll take you back now? I don’t think so. All they’ll see is trash.”

Tears run down my cheeks as his words slice through me like a knife.

“Might be one way to help, though. Driller? Are you up for it? Only way to keep her safe.”

“Yeah, Khan. Order me a cut.” He hangs up as I try to figure out what they’re talking about, but when Driller steps closer, I back up again.

“I’ll go to a shelter.”

“No, I don’t think you will, babe.” He keeps moving closer, and before I can run, he has me pinned against the wall. “The only thing you’ll do is warm my bed as my my old lady .”

I shake my head, but he grabs my jaw and holds me in place.

“What, my brother’s dick was good enough for you, but not mine?” he hisses, spittle hitting my cheek.

“I belong to Havoc. I’ll never be yours.”

He leans in and licks the tears from my cheek, making me shudder in disgust.

“Havoc’s gone. You belong to me now, bitch.”

He slips his hand under the hem of my T-shirt, and panic sets in—that's when I start pushing and shoving him, trying to get away.

“No.

I can’t be yours, not when I’m carrying Havoc’s baby,” I yell, hoping that will make him leave me alone.

But when I see the look in his eyes, I know I’ve made a huge mistake.

“Well, that’s an easy problem to fix.” He grins before pulling back his arm and punching me in the stomach.

I scream in agony, covering my stomach as pain rips through me.

He hits me again before tossing me to the floor.

I try to crawl away, but he kicks me in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me, and I collapse.

As I struggle to push myself up, he stomps on my lower back, making me scream again.

Then, with a jerk, he flips me over and starts kicking me in the stomach over and over.

The pain is unbearable, but I keep fighting, desperately trying to protect my baby.

But when I feel wetness running down my legs, I know I failed.

Still, he doesn’t stop.

It isn’t until the darkness swallows me that it finally sinks in.

Havoc’s gone. My baby’s gone.

And I’m all alone.

Alone with a monster.