Chapter 3
Gabriella
Before
“Why on earth would I want to go and hang around at a park, Natalie?”
“Because it’s fun,” she snapped back at me, grabbing hold of my wrist and pulling me towards the front door. “Come on… Harley has only given you a few hours. Don’t you want to be normal for once, Gabby?”
Sighing heavily, I allowed her to drag me into the hallway, accepting the coat she angrily shoved in my direction.
I could see her point. As the princess of the Rough Riders, it wasn’t often that my dad allowed me outside the house.
Especially without an escort. But Natalie was right.
Harley—my dad and the president—seemingly had a personality transplant overnight—or at the very least a stroke—because not only had he given me permission to leave the house, I was also able to do so without my guards.
How pathetic was my life, though, that the only place I was planning on going to was the local park?
“The boys of the Devils sometimes hang around there, you know?” Natalie said to me as she pulled her own coat on, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“All the more reason for me to not want to go, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh, please!” she scoffed. “You relish the thought of pissing off your loved ones, never mind the rival gang you can’t stand. Now, get!” she snapped, pushing me out of the door. “We’re going and that’s final.”
Luke
“If you fall, I’m not catching you,” Macbeth hissed, throwing a stick at me.
“Dante will catch me, won’t you, pal?” I called over, holding my arms out straight as I walked across the top of the monkey bars, rather than climbing them from below.
“No,” Dante replied from his spot on the grass, his hand wrapped around Laura’s knee whilst she sat cross-legged making a daisy chain. If she were planning on giving that to Dante, she was going to be sorely disappointed when he refused to wear it.
“I knew you would. Come on—if you’re lost, you can look, and you will find me… sing it to me, Dante.” Reaching the end of the line, I turned around, wobbling slightly as I returned to the starting point.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“We make an amazing team. If you fall, I will catch you… I will be waiting,” I bellowed out, my voice turning slightly operatic towards the end. I was half tempted to balance on one foot and hop along these bars, but even I knew that was tempting gravity in the worst way.
“Luke… Are you sure you’re okay up there?” Laura asked, a frown on her face and her teeth biting her bottom lip.
“I am king of the fucking world, Laura-Lou. I can handle some sodding monkey bars—oh, shit!” I squeaked, losing my balance towards the middle and falling over the side, landing in the pile of bark beneath the frame.
“I’m not sure about king of the world, but you certainly take the prize for king of the fucking morons!” a soft, angelic voice called out.
“Dante…” I breathed, flipping over onto my back and lying on the floor like a starfish. “I don’t know who that was, but I have severed my spine with my fall. Please yell back that they are a prick. Thank you in advance.”
“He said you’re a prick,” Dante called, not even bothering to look up to see who he was yelling at.
“Thanks, buddy. You’re a real one,” I panted. And then, flipping over onto my knees, I pushed myself to my feet and grinned at my best mate. “Was it at least an epic fall?”
Dante shook his head at me, but I saw the beginnings of a smile on his lips and felt my own grin grow wider.
I never really understood the need to make everyone laugh. Crash said I was a natural comedian. Warrior said I was a fucking clown. Potato, po-tah-to, as far as I’m concerned. I just wanted something light. Something free.
I loved the Devil’s Disciples, and I loved being part of the Descendants. The club was all I had ever known, and I wanted to be liked.
And I also knew that the minute I went home, the dark clouds would come rolling in again.
I lived on the compound with my mother, but I spent most of my time in the clubhouse with Dante, his brother Macbeth, and their parents.
My mum was a club bunny—or at least she had been until I was born. Now she was just the club’s burden.
I knew what people thought of me. I saw the pitiful glances when they thought I wasn’t looking. If I wanted to be respected in this club and to become a full-time member alongside Dante when the time was right, then I had to do something to be noticed.
Humour was as good a technique as any.
Every other member of the Descendants had a solid in with the club—Dante and Macbeth were grandchildren of the current president.
Trent and Chris were the kids of Zach, a high-ranking, fully patched member.
And whilst I enjoyed being around the lads, they didn’t understand that I needed to fight harder than all of them to prove my worth.
As Warrior would say—they were the next generation, and I was the club stray.
Shaking my head, I pushed away the heavy topic and called out. “Right… which one of you kicked a man when he was down? Who wounds someone when they’ve just fallen exactly twenty-seven stories?”
“I did,” that same angelic voice called back to me. I brought my hand up to shield my eyes and scanned the park for the source. “And for the record, you’re not a man, and you fell no more than a meter at best.”
“She’s got a point,” Macbeth laughed.
“I hardly think you’re in any position to judge someone’s character,” Dante scowled. “When you’re named after someone because you’re both spiteful, jealous bastards, it would probably be best to sit this one out and reflect on your own shortfalls.”
“Ooh, there’s a lover’s tiff. Quick, Gabs, place your bets,” another feminine voice giggled. Snapping my head to the side, I followed the sound until I saw two young lasses sat on a bench not too far from us.
One blonde, one dark-haired. Heaven and Hell. Darkness and light.
And, of course, something inside of me, some darkness within, called to the little black-haired demon.
“I dunno, Natalie,” the object of my new obsession replied with a vicious smirk. “They are Devils after all. Never saw a fight that a Devil won. What happens when you put two Devils together? That’s gotta, like, break the Matrix or something.”
“You wound me,” I called back, clutching my chest.
“I’m sure it’s no worse than the damage you’ve done to yourself. What were you doing up there, anyway?” She shouted at us, frowning at me.
“Well, he wasn’t fucking baking a cake, was he?” Macbeth growled, coming to stand in front of me and Dante, as though we needed his protection. “And you two should know better than to be on Disciples’ property.”
“The park is neutral ground, jerk-off,” she said, changing her position until she was sat on the backrest of the bench, rather than the seat. “And unless you fancy coming over here and shifting us yourselves, there’s not really much you can do about it, is there?”
Her grin was pure smug satisfaction, and I had to bite down on my cheek to stop from responding with a laugh of my own.
“What happens when Daddy Dearest finds out you’ve been breaking the rules, Gabriella?
” he shot back, and even from this distance, I saw the way her face paled.
“Yeah, that’s right. I know all about you, Rider.
” The words were said with such disgust, and Macbeth spat on the floor afterwards as though it had left a nasty taste in his mouth.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Dante turning his head in my direction, giving me an angry glare. I knew what he was saying. Rough Riders or not, these girls were our age, and Macbeth was sixteen. He had no business issuing them threats.
Nodding at me, he took a step forward, and I followed instinctively, not knowing what we were doing, but knowing Dante and I were a team. I’d catch up on the plan on the job.
“Macbeth,” he said in a cold, sinister tone, wrapping his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t go calling for Daddy. That makes you look a pussy.”
“Do we really have a pussy as the leader of the Descendants?” I asked, also wrapping my arm around Macbeth’s neck.
I felt Dante’s arm tense, and on the mental count of three, we both put our legs out and pushed Macbeth forward, tripping him up and causing him to face-plant the grass.
Dante wasted no time jumping on his back and gathering up his arms to pin them down his spine. “You girls go on and get yourselves home,” he called out to the two young things that had been watching our every move. “There’s no trouble here—so long as you’re not looking for it.”
“We’re not,” the blonde one called out. “Come on, Gabby. We’re out of here.”
She pulled on the arm of the dark-haired girl—Gabby—but she didn’t budge an inch.
Instead, there was a frown on her face, her eyes scanning back and forth between Dante, his brother, Laura, and myself.
And then, for reasons unknown to me, but only knowing that I hated seeing her—or any woman—in distress, I darted forward, grabbed Macbeth’s head and waggled my hips above him like a dog claiming territory, making ridiculous barking noises as I did so.
“Luke!” Macbeth growled, struggling against Dante’s hold. “Get the fuck out of my face, Luke! I’ll fucking string you up for this.”
I barked at him a few more times and then: “Gotta catch me first!” Laughing, I scrambled fully to my feet and took off running before Dante released him. I paused for a split second, dropping my trousers just enough to flash my backside at Macbeth, and pushed back off into a sprint.
I passed the girls and tipped a fake hat in their direction.
“You’re revolting,” Gabriella said. But she was smiling. A real, genuine smile that brought the colour back to her cheeks.
“After I just tipped my hat at you all gentlemanly and all… you’re a cruel woman.”
“And you’re bizarre,” she laughed. A full belly laugh that made her eyes sparkle.
And I wasn’t quite sure how that made me feel.
What I did know was that it made my stomach flip in a way it hadn’t before.
I wasn’t sure that I liked it.
“Well…” I said to cover up my awkwardness. “This has been a pleasure. Hate you both, you disgusting Riders, but it was a pleasure, nonetheless.”
“Feeling’s mutual. We mustn’t do this again sometime,” Gabriella chuckled back.
“Indeed, we must not. Good morrow and sorrows. Adios,” I called, still running for the other end of the park, Macbeth hot on my heels.