Chapter 32
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
SHAWN
I’m not sure how long I stare at the door. It could be a minute, it could be hours, possibly even a day, but when it opens, I let out a sigh of relief. It’s my father, not either of the men who came in here to fight over me, then made an agreement to use me as they saw fit.
All this my father had no issues with, although why would he? I have a feeling he does the same shit. The thought grosses me out completely, but I know what my mother is like, and she would be totally down for it all.
“You ready for your wedding?” he asks as he moves into the room.
I realize in this moment that I don’t even know his name. I don’t know my own father’s name, and I’m not sure why that hits me in a particular way, but it does. I don’t think I really care too much, but the thought is there right in front of me anyway.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
I’m sure my question sounds more like a demand, but again, I don’t give much of a fuck. No part of me cares about any part of him. If I’m a bitch to him, or my tone is disrespectful toward him, nada, nothing.
He literally is nothing to me, and I respect no part of him.
Not a single ounce of him.
“It’s Shade. Not that it matters to you,” he chuckles. “After tonight, I won’t see you again.”
“What?” I ask.
“Wives don’t come to the clubhouse.”
I don’t ask how those assholes planned on sharing me if it wasn’t going to be here.
I honestly don’t care because they’ll never get the opportunity.
I think about asking him why wives don’t come to the clubhouse, but then I realize that opens me up to being able to get the fuck out of whatever house they leave me at while my new husband is going to be here doing whatever the hell they do here.
I almost squeal with delight but decide against it. This isn’t the time, and I try really hard to hide my reaction.
“They don’t?” I ask, trying to sound genuinely concerned.
“Nope,” he says, popping the p before he continues. “Your mom hated that shit. It’s why we didn’t work out.”
I could imagine my mother would hate the fact that he was out partying while she was stuck at home with two kids. Neither of whom she wanted in the slightest, I’m sure. “I could see that,” I mutter.
“Yeah, she was wild. Didn’t want to be tamed, but when she got knocked up, she didn’t have a fucking choice.”
“Then you left,” I point out.
“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.
I can’t fucking wait.
Except I need to find Shawn before I do anything.
My father is still shooting, having the time of his life. I look at him from the corner of my eye and smile. He hasn’t had any club action in years. I know he hasn’t because he has no issue telling me how fucking bored he is.
When the last shot is fired, I leave them to do some cleanup and head straight for the back of the building. There is a metal shop back there, and I know that’s where Shawn is. I can feel it deep in my gut.
Instead of running the way I want to, I walk as quickly as I can, which, in reality, likely isn’t that fast right now. When I stop at the doorway, I push it open. I’m not sure what I expect to find, but it isn’t what I actually see.
There she is.
My woman.
My old lady.
She’s in a cage. Locked in a goddamn cage like a wild animal. I watch as she scrambles to the side and wraps her fingers around the bars, her eyes searching mine as she stares at me hopefully.
Before I realize what’s happening, a man rushes me, knocking me on my ass and the wind out of me. I cry out, my entire body burning and exploding with pain. He, without a doubt, popped a fucking stitch, if not every single fucking one of them.
She screams in the distance, and the asshole on top of me pulls his arm back, balls a fist, and slams it into the side of my face. He could probably kill me right here with little to no fight from me. Everything hurts, and it’s a pain that I’ve never felt before.
It’s excruciating.
Then I hear a voice. It’s a roar that hurts my ears. The pressure from the man’s body as he straddles my torso is gone. I look up, watching as he flies through the air. I know before he even comes into view that it is my father who’s doing this.
There is a single shot, and I know that the asshole is dead. Then I hear my father’s growl. It’s deep and vibrates off the metal walls of the shop around us. He doesn’t stop to ask me if I’m okay. He makes his way directly toward the cage.
Slowly, I try to lift myself so I’m sitting up. It hurts, but I force my body to move, and then I slump back against the wall to rest as I watch my father charge toward my woman. My woman who is locked in a goddamn cage.
He crouches down and rattles the door. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “I’m Elvis’s dad.”
He uses my name, which he never fucking does, but I like it for whatever reason right now. Shawn says something, but I can’t make out her words. They’re too soft, and if I’m not mistaken, I hear a roughness in her voice that I do not like. Almost like she hasn’t had enough to drink.
My father turns to me, his eyes finding mine, and then he growls, “Burn the whole fucking place to the ground, son.”