Chapter 1
Chapter One
Sutton
What happened in my life for everything to go so wrong?
I swear I’m cursed by some voodoo high priest for bad luck.
First, the letter I’ve been dreading came in the mail a few months back.
Then I nearly lost one of my best friends, and now I’m taped—yes, taped to a concrete beam in the middle of the main room of the clubhouse belonging to the Triple Spirits MC.
The very same club behind Ivy’s uncle nearly killing her in that accident. Them and the cunt, yeah, that’s exactly the word for this woman, and I hate the ‘C’ word. It’s truly demeaning, but it fits this woman perfectly. Bernita, Ivy’s mom, is one cruel bitch.
I don’t know when she did it. Sometime after these men kidnapped me outside Ivy’s house, she'd called my best friend from my phone, threatening to allow her ol’ man’s brothers to violate me.
From the moment they snatched me up, they'd thought I was Ivy, that is, until Bernita got a glimpse of me. I was then taped to this pole while she had a conniption over them not getting the right ‘bitch’ as she called us. What none of them came to realize is Ivy’s been living at the clubhouse with Reaper.
I’d moved into her house, for the time being, having told the two of them my place was being condemned.
This is true, except that wasn’t the real reason.
I'd moved, because I got that letter in the mail about Chad.
Now Chad, he’s my stepbrother and my worst nightmare.
Growing up in the same house as him is something I cringe thinking about.
Nearly ten years ago, he'd gone away for his sinister crimes, and the day he did was one of the happiest days of my life.
Not only did I get to finally be free of him, but Chad was getting what he deserved.
“You think she’ll actually get the money?” one of the men questions.
“If she knows what’s good for her,” Bernita says coldly.
I hope, like Hell, Ivy doesn’t give in to these monsters. I’d prefer to die. When it comes to them, I highly doubt paying money would satisfy anyone in this room. Especially Ivy’s mom. No, I’m sure they’d demand more and more from not only my best friend, but the club as well.
I might not have known the members of the club long, but I’ve been in the same town as them since I was a kid.
Mom used to tell me about them being good-for-nothing criminals.
I didn’t understand her reasons for stating this.
I still don’t. All I know is my mom was a single parent for years before meeting my stepdad, and my life changed forever.
I don’t know who my dad is. For all I know, it could’ve been a member of the Satan’s Keepers MC.
She never told me and didn’t put a name down in the father slot on my birth certificate.
“Doesn’t mean . . .”
Bernita looks to the man with his arm around her waist then back to the other man.
“If she doesn’t, then you all get to have your fun with this one, and I’ll go after each and every one of her little friends until she does.
I’ll even kill the little bitch before handing her back to them.
Then again, I know who would absolutely love this one. ”
The chilling smirk that crosses her face is nerve-racking.
More so, in a way, I wish she’d just kill me and get it over with.
It’s not like I really have anything to live for anyway.
Sure, my friends would miss me. Ivy, Juniper, Isabelle, and Everleigh are my family.
They’re the only ones who know the real me.
I’m more than some spunky sarcastic chick who speaks her mind no matter what.
One of the reasons I enjoy our trips to the mud parks and taking the trails on the four-wheelers behind Ivy’s house—I feel free.
Free from my demons and turmoil that filters through my head constantly.
The night Ivy met Reaper, her world set in motion what has become our lives.
I’d hooked up with Tombstone a time or two.
Even the night Ivy met Reaper. It’s a simple fling, he’d made sure to always clarify that.
Do I want more with him? Hell, yes, I do.
Tombstone’s everything I ever dreamed of in a guy for myself.
Only he doesn’t want anything with me, because he claims I’m too young for him.
But he didn’t have a problem screwing my brains out.
God, even thinking of Tombstone now leaves me with the hope that someday he’d decide I’m enough.
Then again, I’ve never been enough.
Not for him.
Not for my mom.
I’m pretty sure my father had got shot by my mother when she told him about me, because he didn’t even want me.
Maybe I’ve got daddy issues, and it’s the reason I’ve always enjoyed older men rather than those my age.
In my mind, I can easily see the last time I’d been with Tombstone.
“Bambina?” Tombstone says, using the name he seems to always call me in moments like this.
Rolling over to face him, I meet his gaze. “Yes.”
I hope he can’t see my longing for him to say I’m his. He'd made the rules, and I’ve been playing along. However, the more time we spend together alone here in this room or at the club pretending we’re nothing but acquaintances, I’m falling for him.
Who am I kidding? I’ve already fallen.
“You know we gotta put an end to this,” he states, making my heart plummet down to my stomach.
Clearing my throat, I nod. “I know. It’s only what it is, for however long it is,” I whisper, rolling to give him my back and climb out of bed.
“Go ahead and do what you always do.” Leaving him still in my bed, I walk with my head held high to my bathroom.
Inside, I close the door and lock it. I get it’s flimsy, and if he really wanted to, he could break it down easily.
Holding back my tears, I move to the shower and turn it on.
I step into the cold shower and sink to the floor as the first tear falls.
I’m an idiot, always wanting things I can’t have. This means a man like Tombstone.
It’s why I don’t want Ivy to give Bernita the money for me. I’m giving up hope and don’t want them to face dealing with these people if they don’t have to.
I’m not worth it.
I do my best to block them all out . . .
I have nothing better to do and hearing them enjoy themselves is not the highlight of my day.
I don’t need or want to be around them, let alone have to listen to them toying with the other girls in here.
From the sounds some of them are making, I’m pretty sure they’re here against their will.
Others seem to enjoy themselves, but I’m thinking it has to do with the drugs being passed around.
I know all too well what drugs do to a person.
It’s not pretty, and it’s not something I want to be around.
I can handle the smell of weed every once in a while, but the hard-core shit, yeah, keep that away from me.
If it weren’t for my friends saving me a long time ago, I’d either be in the ground or worse .
. . I could’ve ended up like one of these girls. And that would’ve been bad.
Blinking, I do my best to keep my eyelids open.
I don’t know how much time had passed since I’ve been here, but I’m far past the feeling of humiliation.
I’ve been taped to this beam from the moment they brought me here.
After the first night, I know that much has at least passed, because the men fell asleep wherever they felt like it.
Not once have they given me something to drink or even a bite to eat.
My stomach growls and tightens at the mere thought.
When Bernita didn’t receive word from Ivy after her initial threat, she had sneered in my direction before going to her ol’ man.
A man, I might add, looks more like a Tommy Chong from Cheech & Chong—but with worse hygiene, much like the rest of these men here.
Bernita had stated loud enough for me to hear, I’m free game to torment, but not to rape, yet.
This made several of them elated to be able to grope and cop a feel.
I was stripped of my shirt, leaving me clad in my filthy jeans and bra.
I had endured countless hours upon hours of these men telling me what they’d like to do to my body.
A few of them have taken enjoyment in even beating me.
I don’t even want to know what my body looks like at the moment.
“Time to go,” Bernita announces, clapping her hands in delight, smirking at me with her devious eyes.
“Load her in the back of the van and go to the location I gave you,” Bernita’s ol’ man drawls, spitting on the floor at my feet. “Take her to the spot I told you to, wait for my call.”
“Got it, Prez,” one of them says, stepping forward and grinning at me. “I think we’ll have some fun while waiting for that call. What do you say, bitch?”
I refuse to answer, but I give him a clear indication of what my answer would be by narrowing my eyes on him.
He laughs and steps close enough for me to read his cut, finding his road name is Hog. Good name for him with his potbelly sticking out. Nothing against big men, I know quite a few, and they’ve been nothing but nice to me.
Someone steps up behind me as Hog grasps my upper arms firmly in his hands and pulls off the tape none too gently.
“I’ll call you once I’ve got the money. You know what to do from there,” the Prez says swiftly, eying me with a lingering gaze and licking his lips like he’s got BBQ sauce or whatnot smeared on them.