Chapter 3
Lena
My phone continues to ring and I stare at it with a fear that I’ve only felt one other time in my life. I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.
“Who the hell keeps calling you?” Jeanne, my best friend asks, sitting on the couch next to me.
Jeanne and I share a small apartment that we moved into right out of high school. She wanted her independence and I wanted to get as far away from my parents as possible. Well, as far away as I could be without leaving Jeanne and my brother.
Jeanne comes from money and that’s the only reason we were even able to get this place. Her independence is only for show really. Her parents still put money into an account for her monthly and she spends it almost just as fast.
I’ve never had it that easy. Anything I’ve ever wanted or needed I’ve busted my ass to get.
Sometimes it’s just exhausting. Sometimes I just want to go to the bar and not have to count pennies before hand to make sure I have enough to cover a couple drinks.
And sometimes you do really dumb shit thinking you can make that happen.
“Lena, you good?” Jeanne asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bill collector calling,” I lie, shrugging.
“How much do you owe?”
She always wants to help and I always deny. I was taught never to allow someone to help you because that means you owe them and what they want in return may be much worse. Not that I think Jeanne would do something like that, but I can’t tell her about this. I’m not going to involve her.
“I’ve got it, don’t worry.” I force a smile and turn toward her on the couch. “So, what’s the plan tonight?”
“Let’s hit up Twisted Souls,” Jeanne suggests, tossing her phone onto the coffee table before giving me that expectant look.
I shake my head almost immediately. “No. I don’t wanna run into Wesley tonight.”
Her brow furrows. “What? Why?”
I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. “Because I’m a shitty liar when it comes to him.” It’s the truth. Wesley can take one look at me and know something’s off, and the last thing I need tonight is his scrutiny. He’ll take one look at me and start asking questions I’m not ready to answer.
Jeanne crosses her arms, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s not convinced. “Lee, you love your brother. He just wants to look out for you.”
I sigh. “I know, but I can’t handle it tonight.”
She thinks it’s the bill collector, and she can just keep thinking that.
She pouts, jetting her bottom lip out like a damn child. “Come on, please? If we see him, we’ll leave. I just need a drink, some music, some fun.” She drags the last word out dramatically, leaning against me in an exaggerated plea.
I roll my eyes but don’t immediately answer. I know what this is really about. Jeanne doesn’t just want to go out, she wants to be close to Shattered Souls MC.
She has a thing for the club, and I don’t mean Twisted Souls.
She’s obsessed with being close to Shattered Souls MC.
The power they hold, the undeniable sex appeal they carry, the bad-boy confidence that drips off them like a second skin.
It’s a turn-on for her. The thrill, the danger, the adrenaline rush of it all.
The way they own a room without even trying, the effortless confidence, the smirks that promise trouble but make you want to chase it anyway.
I get it. Hell, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t understand. But for me, sometimes being around them is too much.
Because every time I step into that world, I risk seeing Declan. And that? That guts me.
Jeanne watches me closely, her teasing demeanor fading into something softer. “This is about Declan, isn’t it?”
I stiffen, my jaw clenching. “It’s not?—”
“Don’t lie to me, Lee.” Her voice is gentle, but there’s a knowing edge to it. “I see the way you look at him. And I see the way you look when he’s with someone else.”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. It’s not like I’ve ever admitted it out loud, not even to myself in a real way. But Jeanne has always been too damn perceptive.
“He doesn’t know,” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “And it doesn’t matter.”
“Bullshit.”
I glance up at her, and she crosses her arms, her expression serious. “It does matter, Lee. But you won’t do anything about it, so instead, you’re torturing yourself. Hiding from him won’t make it hurt any less.”
She’s right, but I can’t bring myself to agree.
I shake my head. “I just can’t do it tonight, Jeanne.”
She watches me for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Fine. But I’m getting a drink somewhere, with or without you.”
I smirk faintly. “Go cause trouble without me, then.”
She huffs, but there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re no fun.”
I don’t argue, because if she knew the weight pressing on me, she wouldn’t be saying that.
“I’m more fun than most can handle, just not tonight.”
She rolls her eyes as she heads into her bedroom to change.
I wish I was as carefree as she is.
I’m woken up by my phone ringing and banging on my door. Fear grips around my throat as I sit up on the couch. I passed out shortly after Jeanne left, and it appears she forgot her key. I ignore my ringing phone and swing open the door.
“Too much…” My words are cut off when I see it isn’t Jeanne.
He hangs up the phone and leans against the door frame. “You’re a hard girl to get ahold of.”
I swallow, or at least I try, but my mouth has gone completely dry. “Yeah, I’ve been kinda busy.”
“Busy getting my money?” He gives me a smirk I don’t like that sends a chill down my body. “Or are you thinking of paying off your debt in a different way?”
I cross my arms, trying to protect myself. “I’ll have your money.”
“Lena, I’ve been patient, but I need that fucking money.
” I go to interrupt, but he grabs my arms and slams me against the open door.
“No more fucking games. The money you owe me goes to others, Lena. If I don’t have my money tomorrow, you will be my payment.
I’m sure these guys will be happy to take you in exchange for cash.
They’ll probably pass you around and fight over your tight pussy, but hey, maybe they’ll just kill you in a jealous rage. ”
Tears sting my eyes as I stare into the depths of his icy, cold ones. “Please,” I whisper, feeling the tears roll down my cheeks.
“Begging is good, Lena. I’m sure those guys love it.” He tightens his hold on my arms, so tight that I have no doubt he’s leaving me bruised. “You have until tomorrow. If I don’t have the money in my hands, I’ll be handing you over. You fucking understand?”
I nod, incapable of speaking. If I try to speak, I will either throw up or cry out in fear.
“Answer your fucking phone,” he says, letting go of my arms and grabbing my cheeks, squeezing them against my teeth. It hurts, and I taste blood from the amount of pressure he’s using to make his point. “I’m not playing, Lena. When I call, you fucking answer.”
He lets go of me and walks down the hall as if nothing happened. It takes me a moment for the shock to wear off before I move quickly, slamming the door closed.
I lean against it and slide to the floor, dropping my head onto my knees. A cry rips from me so loudly that I’m sure the neighbors can hear.
I thought gambling would get me ahead, give me some extra money and less stress. That’s obviously not what happened. I now owe money I don’t have and now my life is on the line.
I continue to sit on the floor and cry because I am no longer able to handle this on my own.
With bruised arms, bleeding cheeks, and tears running down my face, I grab my keys and do something that is as equally terrifying as this threat.
I make the short drive and lift my shaking hand to knock on the door.
This is going to make things so much worse, but I have no other choice.
I have nowhere else to turn.
The door opens and the tears rush down my face.
“I need help.”