Chapter Twenty - Three
Remi
The journey back feels long. It’s two buses across town and a tube ride, and I hardly touched my soup, so I feel weaker than ever. My legs shake, my stomach aches, and my mind won’t stop replaying his face.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe past the sting behind them. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t chase me. Not after everything. But he did, and some pathetic part of me is still clinging to that like it’s hope.
By the time I reach the street I grew up on, my chest is tight, and my fingers are numb from gripping the bag too hard.
I swallow hard and push the door open. The smell hits like it always does. I don’t know if I will ever get used to it.
Colin’s friends are still here, just like every day. Draped across the couch, the floor, the armchairs. Ashtrays overflowing. Bottles everywhere. And Colin sits in his armchair like the king of rot, with his beer in one hand and a cig in the other.
His eyes flick up. “Where the fuck you been?” His voice is lazy, but his stare is sharp.
I hold the bag tighter. “Getting food. I told you.”
One of his mates snorts. “For what? Ya cooking’ now, princess?” Laughter echoes around the room, and heat crawls up my neck. It’s the one thing they haven’t forced me to do. They prefer to order takeout, eating whilst I watch, hungry.
Colin stretches out his hand. “Give.” I hesitate a second too long. His expression doesn’t change, but everything inside me freezes. I step forward and place the bag in his lap. He opens it, looks inside, and lets out a slow, disbelieving laugh. “Soup and noodles.”
More laughter, then he tips the bag upside down. The tin rolls across the floor. Noodles scatter everywhere, the packets splitting under the weight of the fall.
He stands, slow and deliberate, then his boot comes down on the noodles hard, crushing them into crumbs and dust. The sound is loud in the quiet. Then he picks up the soup tin and throws it across the room. It hits the wall, the metal clanging, before rolling in a lazy circle on the floor.
My vision blurs for a second as panic crawls into my chest.
“Make yourself useful,” Colin says, his voice calm, almost bored. “Clean up the shit you brought into my house.”
I don’t move, scared that if I turn away, he’ll hit me from behind. It’s his speciality.
Colin steps closer. His breath hits my cheek, and I wince. “You deaf?” he murmurs.
I shake my head and lower to my knees, gathering broken noodles into my hands. They dig into my skin, sharp, tiny, and impossible to grip. Tears drip before I can stop them, falling into the crumbs. I bite down on my lip until I taste blood.
One of the men whistles. “Look at her. Just like her mum.”
Colin laughs. “On her knees for me.” I bristle at his words, but I’m used to their crude remarks, so I keep cleaning. Because I know how this goes if I don’t.
Survival has rules. My mum taught me well. Don’t talk back. Don’t look him in the eye. Don’t cry too loud. Don’t move too slow.
My fingers shake as they drag broken noodles into a pile. They cut tiny lines into my palms. Colin crouches beside me, and I can’t help but flinch.
His fingers wrap around my jaw and yank my face up. “There she is,” he murmurs. “My compliant little whore.” His thumb digs into my cheek, right over yesterday’s bruise. The pain explodes behind my eye, sharp and instant.
One of the men laughs under his breath.
“I asked you to do one thing,” Colin says softly, too softly, “and you take all fuckin’ day to do it.” His smile widens, drunk and mean. “What were you really doing?”
“I just went to the food bank. I had to go to the one across town, it was the only one open.” My voice cracks. “That’s all. It was busy.”
He tilts his head, studying me the way someone does when they’re deciding whether to hit or not. “Is that why you only got three things?” I nod. “You look like shit,” he says eventually. I nod, because there is no right answer. “Maybe you need reminding what respect looks like.”
My stomach drops. A cold, hollow kind of fear spreads through my ribs. I brace, but he doesn’t hit. Not yet. It's a warning of what’s to come.
He stands and looks around the room. “Food,” he says to the others. “I’m hungry.”
Colin gestures towards the kitchen like it’s a joke. “Go on, Remi. Make us dinner.”
There is nothing to eat. We all know it. I stare past him, my eyes lingering on the kitchen worktops that are full of dishes. Mouldy food sticks to each one like glue, and although I’ve begun working my way through the pile, it’s not obvious.
“Problem?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.
“What . . . what should I cook?”
A smirk pulls at his cruel lips. “What do you suggest?”
It’s a game. Everything is a game. I’ll tell him there’s nothing, and he will ask me to be creative. I’ll suggest going to the shop to grab something, and he’ll say I need to earn the money for it. And there’s only one way to earn money in his eyes.
I swallow the panic clawing up my throat. “I . . . there’s nothing here.”
“You saying’ no?” comes Colin’s voice from behind me.
That tone . . . that quiet, rope-thin tone sends shivers down my spine.
“I just . . . I can . . .” A weak sound leaves my throat as I stumble for the right words, and as I turn slowly to look at him, I see his hand is already raising.
The slap snaps my vision white. I hit the floor hard, sending the noodles scattering farther. My cheek burns. My ears ring.
The men laugh again.
“We have no food because you didn’t bring any back," he spits somewhere close to my face. I daren’t look up. “I want steak,” he adds, and I feel him stand. “Who else wants steak?”
“I could eat a steak,” someone chirps up.
“Me too,” adds another.
“Well, steak costs money,” says Colin. “So, how you gonna afford it, whore?”
My mind races for the answer as he crouches beside me. He moves my hair from my face, and I flinch, making him laugh again. He holds a bunch of bank notes scrunched together in his hand.
“You want steak?” he asks me, his voice dangerously low. I stare at the money. “I can give you steak, baby girl. All you gotta do is say yes.” My stomach growls, and another round of laughing floats around me. He moves closer, his mouth inches from my ear. “Kneel,” he murmurs.
I clumsily scramble to my knees, and he rises to his feet.
“Remove your top," he instructs. I start to shake my head in protest. “You wanna eat, you gotta earn,” he cuts in, smirking as he stands over me.
“Do you expect me to feed you, keep a roof over your head, pay all the bills? Even after I cleared all your debt.” I hear the sound of his belt loosening.
“Your mother was a lazy bitch too, thought she could live for free. Well, newsflash, you gotta work for it. Nothing comes for free.”
Shadow
I jump off my bike the second I see my brothers arriving. They park up behind one another, joining me on the pavement. Axel pulls off his helmet. “Didn’t think it’d be long,” he tells me, smirking.
“Anyone wanna tell me what’s going on?” asks Grizz.
“Shadow called me. He’s made an important decision. He’s gonna claim Remi.”
Grizz frowns. “And you’re okay with that?” he asks our President.
“It was either accept it or watch him continue to moon over her,” he jokes, laughing. “He’s taking full responsibility for her until we can trust her.”
I shove my helmet onto the handlebar, my pulse still hammering from the ride. “Let’s not turn this into a parade,” I say, my voice rough. “I don’t want to scare her.”
Grizz snorts. “Brother, you showed up with six patched bikers outside a crack den. I think we passed scaring five minutes ago.”
Axel steps closer, his gaze steady on mine. “You sure about this, Shadow?”
“No,” I admit, “but I know I can’t be without her, Pres.”
Axel gives me one last look. “Once you make this move, she belongs to us, to this club. She gets the protection but also the rules. You ready to deal with that?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s done,” he says.
Grizz grips my shoulder. “Let’s get her out.”
The door swings open easy. It’s a shithole, just like every other drug den I’ve ever seen.
I step in, and the air hits me—stale smoke, piss, a sourness that sticks to your throat. The room looks smaller than the pictures in my head. The ceiling droops. The telly throws cheap light over empty bottles and bodies. Men shift and grunt, half-awake, half-gone.
And there she is.
Remi on her knees in the middle of it all, sobbing quietly while surrounded by mess. Her hair’s plastered to her face. Her jaw is bruised and raw . . . and I notice another blooming just under her eye.
Colin’s standing over her, his back to me.
But when he hears the door creak, he glances over his shoulder.
His expression falters before he remembers he’s not supposed to be scared, and he forces a fake smile.
“Did you miss us, princess, or do you wanna pay for an hour with my latest recruit?” He grabs a fistful of her hair and tips her head right back. She winces, closing her eyes.
Something cold settles under my ribs and spreads. I take in the way they’re all watching her, with impatience, like they were just about to get to the good bit, and I’ve halted their fun.
And then I feel my brothers at my back. One by one, they join me, filling the tiny space, and I see the fear flicker in Colin’s eyes as he takes us in.
Remi finally opens her eyes, and for a second, she looks relieved before the humiliation returns, and then I remember he’s holding her like a dog.
“Let her go,” I say firmly.
Colin’s eyes fall to her, and he sneers, pulling her hair harder. She cries out, pushing to her feet to try and close the gap.
I bristle. “You’re gonna lose that hand,” I warn.
“Oh, yeah? I better make it worth it then,” he says, yanking her to him and wrapping an arm around her so she’s pressed against him. “You want me, you gotta get through her,” he says with a smug smile.
For a second, the whole goddamn world narrows to her pupils, and I do my best to reassure her that she’s gonna be okay.
I close the space between us in two strides, too quick for him to react before my hand finds his throat. I don’t whisper, I don’t warn, because I want him to taste what fear feels like from the other side. His grin falters, and the harder I squeeze, the wider his eyes go.
“Get off her,” I say low.
He laughs then chokes on the sound. His fingers scrabble at my wrist, releasing her, and he claws at my arm.
I slam him down, and the chair cracks under his weight, splintering.
He tries to rise, and I hit him again. Not because I want to kill him but because I want him to know what it is to be small and helpless.
Each blow is clean, measured, surgical. They say something louder than yelling ever could—he will not touch her again.
The room is loud then, men shouting, scrambling. Someone lunges, and I turn and move fast, a shove sending one man into the telly. A palm to the jaw makes another kiss the carpet. I’m not graceful. I’m a machine with one function—extract her, remove her, end it.
When it’s over, Colin’s on the floor, breathing hard, spitting blood. His mates are gone, pushed out to the yard by my brothers.
I kneel where she kneels, close enough that she can smell me. Leather and engine oil, something that usually settles her. My hand hovers over hers and then drops carefully until it brushes her knuckles. She flinches, and my heart cracks a little more.
“Remi,” I say, keeping my voice soft. “You’re coming home with me.
” She doesn’t answer. She looks at the mess surrounding her.
“You asked me to walk away, but I can’t.
We might be chaos and mess, and fuck, I reckon the second you’re back on your feet, you might kick my arse for being a complete prick to you, but right now, you’re all outta fight, darlin’, and I’m all outta patience.
We belong together, Remi, and it took me way too long to see it.
So, until you’re well enough to argue with me on the subject, you’re coming home with me. ”
She nods, slow and tiny, and when I help her up, she’s weightless in my arms.
“Knife,” I bark out, not to anyone in particular.
One of my brothers thrusts a flick blade into my hand.
Remi eyes it for a second, and I smile to reassure her.
“You ain’t coming on my bike in another man’s jumper,” I tell her, gripping the hem and slicing the material right up the middle.
I tuck the blade away and pull the hoody from her shoulders, throwing it to the ground.
I loop my kutte around her, and she grabs at it, pressing her nose to the collar and inhaling deeply. I carry her to the bike like she’s my lifeline. And she is, I know that now.
“Are we ending this?” Axel asks, his eyes burning into mine. With one quick nod, the deal is done. No questions asked. No hesitation. Colin will burn here tonight, freeing my old lady from whatever hell he’s put her through.
I get on the bike behind Remi, making sure she’s wrapped around me like a baby koala, and then the engine catches under my feet.
As we pull away, the house shrinking in my mirror, I let the rage burn down to something colder and harder. This part of her life is done now. Tomorrow, we make plans for our future.