Chapter 1 – Betsy
CHAPTER ONE
BETSY
PRESENT DAY
Lying in bed with the pillow over my head, along with earplugs to block out the loud thumping music that seems to vibrate through the walls, the windows, everything, all I want to do is cry.
I’m so tired. I just need sleep. Morrigan had commented that my room at the Sanctuary was a mess.
Well, that’s mainly because I was using it as a refuge to get away from living through this hell.
I love my little two-bedroom house; it’s cute, and it was all mine, but living next door to a frat house was making me hate it.
I hated coming home, and I hated stopping in the diner on the corner to grab my favourite sandwiches because they were usually in there.
My safe, cosy home had been stolen from me by some college jocks, who loved to yell ‘Shots, shots, shots!’ at three in the morning, or who liked to have girls wrestling in jello.
They’d have fancy dress parties, pool parties…
Hell, they would throw a party for anything.
I don’t think they actually did any studying.
God knows how they are even passing their exams. I nearly brushed my teeth with my hair removal cream the other day because I was so damn tired, and I can feel myself slowly going insane.
I peek at my alarm clock and look at the time, cringing when it states four am.
Four fucking am! I jump out of bed, rip out my earplugs, and throw them to the ground as I storm out of my bedroom.
Enough is enough. I was tired; I didn’t care that they mocked me and bullied me like we were in high school.
We aren’t in high school. I’m tired and sleep-deprived, and I would fight a bear if I had to just to get some peace.
I storm down the stairs like a woman possessed, out my front door, and across the yard to their front door.
As I slam my fist down on their door over and over again, I refuse to stop until they answer.
The door abruptly swings open, revealing a shirtless blonde guy with coloured handprints decorated all over his body. He grins when he sees me.
“Betty!” he greets me.
“It’s Betsy,” I say with a snarl.
“Sure, what’s up? You want to come and join us?” he asks, gesturing inside. “There’s plenty of room, but then I’m not so sure this is your thing.” His eyes trail over my Wonder Woman pyjama shorts and tank set.
I shift, feeling that familiar sting of embarrassment beginning to crawl over my skin. “It’s late, your music is loud, and it’s keeping me awake. Can you please keep it down?” I sigh while pinching the bridge of my nose.
He tilts his head as if assessing me. “You know what you could do with? A drink. Come on in, Betty. Let’s get you a drink,” he states with a grin.
I shake my head no. “Thank you, but no,” I refuse, looking away and pushing my glasses up my nose.
“Oh, come on. A little nightcap. Then I promise we will keep the noise down,” he pressures me.
I anxiously nibble on my bottom lip, hearing the loud chattering and laughing of other girls giggling. This isn’t high school. I am a grown woman. I give a subtle nod. “Okay, just one, and then you’ll be quiet?” I ask for assurance, looking up at him.
He symbolises a cross over his chest. “Cross my heart,” he promises. I reluctantly step into the house, and the sound of him closing the door behind me makes me flinch.
I’m safe, I’m brave, and I can kill them in one movement.
Nothing bad can happen to me again. I’m safe.
I’m safe, I internally remind myself over and over.
I may have had therapy, and I may have been taught how to fight, how to defend, and most importantly, how to kill from the Savage Sisters MC, but I have never fully recovered from that night.
I’ve never carried myself with the confidence and fearlessness that Morrigan and Eden have.
When we are together and fighting, I draw on them, and it makes me feel like I can take on the world.
Yet when I’m alone, without my club, without my sisters beside me, I feel vulnerable.
I follow him through the house. “Er, what’s your name?” I ask, never knowing who is who.
“Brody,” he states as he guides me through the house into the backyard, where there are girls in the tiniest bikinis I’ve ever seen, dipping their hands in coloured paint and purposefully pressing their palms to all the guys. Some even have handprints over their crotch areas.
I freeze in the doorway. This really isn’t the place for me. “Er, I should go,” I mutter.
“Nonsense. Come and say hi to the guys,” Brody insists, tugging on my wrist and pulling me behind him.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at his forceful touch, and my palms become sweaty as my heart beats wildly in my chest. We come to a stop, and I stumble into the back of him.
“Woah, easy Betty.” Brody smirks as he releases my hands and places a plastic cup with some liquid in it instead.
I sniff it, and the strong alcohol burns my nose. “What’s this?” I ask.
“Special punch.” He grins.
“Woah, is that Betty?!” one of the other frat guys shouts as he comes closer. He is also dressed in nothing but trunks, and his bare chest is covered in various painted handprints.
“Drink up, Betty,” Brody coaxes. I reluctantly take a sip, and the alcohol immediately burns my throat, making me choke. I cough and splutter, causing everyone to laugh at me. I pat my chest as my eyes stream.
“Fancy a swim, Betty?” the guy that ran over asks, and as he steps closer into my space, I take a step back and shake my head no. “Oh, come on. Just a little dip,” he presses, taking an intimidating step towards me.
I step back again. “No, I’m just going to go home,” I state, hating how weak I sound.
“Here we are, thinking you were here offering an olive branch for calling the cops and college on us,” he says in a threatening tone, while stepping closer and closer into my personal space.
“I don’t even know who you are. That wasn’t me,” I counter.
He smirks. “I’m Brady.”
“Brody and Brady.” I snort out loud, not meaning to, and quickly cover my mouth to hide my amusement.
“Something fucking funny to you?” Brady sneers, taking another step towards me.
His stare is cold and threatening, so I take two steps back, but as my foot moves, I realise there is no ground beneath it.
I wobble and fall back, my arms whirling in a windmill-like motion before plummeting into the pool with a loud splash.
I sink, and as my arms and legs flail desperately to try to reach the surface of the water, I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and see their silhouettes surrounding the pool.
However, no one is doing anything to help me.
This is it. I’m going to die in a frat house at a pool party. I should have said I can’t swim. They would be helping me right now instead of letting me drown. My lungs burn, desperate for air, and I can feel myself becoming weak. Morrigan and Eden will avenge me. They will make them suffer.
I close my eyes and stop trying to break the surface, giving up, when suddenly I feel someone grab my waist from behind, yanking me backwards.
I’m thrust to the surface of the water, and I take in a loud gasp of air, coughing and spluttering as I draw in glorious oxygen.
A moment later, I’m pulled out of the pool and carried over to a seat, not caring or wondering who it is.
I’m just grateful to be out of that pool.
A towel is wrapped around me, and a guy with dark wet hair and green eyes crouches before me, his eyes searching, assessing me.
“Are you okay?” he asks firmly. I blink as my eyes take in his sharp stubbled jaw.
“You’re old,” I blurt out.
His jaw tenses, and his face turns from concerned to irritated. “Are you all-fucking-right?” he growls out.
I blanch at his tone and give him a sharp nod. “I’m fine,” I finally answer.
“Yo, Archer. Is she okay?” I hear Brody ask.
Archer. He stands abruptly and whirls around on Brody. “Is she okay?” he growls. “Are you fucking stupid or what? She was fucking drowning, and you were laughing like it was some funny prank,” Archer berates them.
Yes, go Archer! I mentally cheer, relieved that one of them isn’t a complete asshole.
“Come on, man. You wanted to prank her. You were the one that said we should break her,” Brody argues. “You said make her life hell and then she will move out.”
Well, I’m now changing my mind. Fuck you, Archer. I stand and drop the towel as Archer turns to face me.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Home!” I snap back.
“Not alone you’re not,” he retorts.
My jaw drops. “Thanks, but I think I would feel safer having Jack the Ripper walk me home than any of you,” I quip.
I slam my mouth shut in surprise at what just came out.
The sass and the quick comeback isn’t normally me.
Apparently, nearly drowning has awoken something in me, or it could be that my brain is just starved of oxygen.
I push past them, not waiting around for a response, and make my way back through their house and out the front door.
Unfortunately, I barely make it down their front steps when I hear someone approach.
My heart thumps, and fear begins to creep up my spine.
My training kicks in, and I spin around, sweeping out my left leg, surprising them by taking their legs out from under them.
Archer lands on the ground with a thud, and I move quickly, placing my foot on his neck and pressing down just enough to restrict the airflow, while my fists are braced, ready to attack.
“What do you want?” I snap through gritted teeth.
His eyes are full of shock as he looks up at me. “I was walking you home,” he wheezes as I apply a little more pressure to his throat with my foot.
“I said I don’t want you to. Now leave me the hell alone,” I warn him. Removing my foot, I step back and give him one final look over my shoulder before I walk up the steps to my front door, slamming it hard behind me.