28. Chapter 23
Evie
Present Day
I tuck my hands into my lap as we drive and sit in silence.
I look out the window or try to peer over the hulking bodies around me to look at the lights.
I’ve always lived over here on the south side because I’ve always felt it was safer than living over with my stepfather on the north side.
To be honest though, this is the part of town I don’t care to go to.
I wish I had my weapons on me, but unfortunately, none of the guys wanna give them back.
I try to smooth my hair out. I put it back up into a high ponytail after I changed my clothes.
The guys are all dressed in very similar fashion.
They have on their tight tees showing all of their markings that say they belong in this gang.
I run my thumb over my knuckles and breathe in, out, in and out.
I can do this. I can fucking stand up to these people I keep telling myself over and over again.
The sad part is I’ve built such a wall up around my heart, I grew cold and distant.
I could slice any one of these motherfuckers throats and laugh in their face, but for some reason when I’m around these guys my walls crumble and I feel like I’m a fucking mess.
“What’s wrong, Evie?” The question lingers in the car as Damion looks at me fuck I hate when all eyes are on me. I feel like I’m the center of attention and I can’t stand this shit. I rub my knuckles once, twice, three times and then I just look into his eyes.
“You know what’s wrong.” I turned my head to look back out the window. I’m pissed. I don’t want to go down to their father's club! What, so he can kill me for good this time?
Evie
10 years ago
The streetlights turn on as I walk home.
It’s quiet, almost an eerie silence. I swear something’s behind a bush or something.
I push my headphones into my ears and turn up the music as loud as I can.
I tuck my hands into my pockets and hold on to the knife I just recently bought.
I decided it’s time to learn some new tricks, I need to be able to defend myself better.
With all this shit going on every day and night.
The guys aren’t able to walk with me tonight.
Something about a meeting or something. I’m starting to get really tired of this.
If I’m in this gang, why aren’t I ever invited to anything? Why do I feel more alone than ever?
I listen to the lyrics of Numb from LINKIN PARK. I lose my mind to the music and swing my arms from side to side as I walk. I close my eyes for one second to open them back up, just as a bag goes over my head. I thrash and start yelling as a hand comes down on my mouth.
“Shut up, you little bitch.” The man’s voice has me quieting.
He places a hand over my mouth through the bag.
I have learned that the best thing to do is to act like you're not a threat. My hands get tied behind me. I hear a car pull up as a door opens. It must be one of those creepy vans you think about with a guy driving with giant glasses from the 80s and a mustache. I’m thrown into the van as my knees hit the cool interior.
“You couldn’t upgrade to a carpet van?” I'm kicked in the ribs. I wince.
“We wouldn't want to upset the Demon princess, now would we?” The guys giggle like some schoolgirls.
“Well then, would you guys tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“Nahh, only time will tell. It looks like you’re pissing some people off, though doesn’t it?
” I start to weigh out my options. I could scream to death, but then that’s just gonna tire me out or I could get ready to ambush them when they open up the door.
I mean that sounds way better to me. I silently wait, I click my tongue and count.
I try to remember the turns, just in case, honestly though with this bag over my head, it’s hard.
Nausea and panic make my heart drop in the pit of my stomach.
I wonder if the guys would even go looking for me, do they even care?
They’ve been so distant, it’s been so weird and I have no idea what’s going on.
They keep trying to give me this bullshit that it’s better off this way and they’re only trying to save me save me from fucking up what my life was already to begin with.
The scene that makes no sense is my stepdad already has his own gang.
So, technically, I’m already affiliated anyways, so why does it even matter?
They act as if they’re saving me from some kind of life, when all I wanted to do was get the tattoo to show them that I am loyal to them and that I wanted to be theirs for a lifetime.
Honestly, their reactions were a smack to the face.
I don’t know if I dozed off or what, but my head is so twisted right now.
The van comes to a stop and I abruptly wake up.
Shit. I forgot there is a bag on my fucking head.
My hands are tied. Ok. I feel like it’s time, I crouch down and get into a position before they open up the doors.
I’m gonna use my legs full force. This has to work right.
I mean, I have no other options so I'm going for it.
I hear the guys jump out of the car. The gravel crunch is underneath their boots and then they stop, the door opens up slowly and I push with all my might making contact on the way, then I start running.
Honestly I never thought it would be so hard to run without my arms. I start to stumble a little bit and instantly regret it.
This is gonna be my downfall. I keep going and going, two large arms wrapped around my body and pick me up.
I start kicking and thrashing using everything I have, to come in contact with theirs.
Unfortunately, this is where I wish I could say that I actually got out of my predicament.
But this just means I gotta start working harder, because whoever the fuck this is, is going down next time I fucking see them.
That’s all I can think about as a fist collides into my temple.
As I slowly come back too, I no longer have a bag over my head.
My legs are both tied to the metal chair at my feet.
My hands are tied behind my back, duct tape crosses over my lips, and I wince as my head throbs in pain.
I tried to look around and look up. To see where I am.
All I do is see horrible fluorescent lights.
That makes me so nauseous. I wanna vomit right here.
I try to breathe in through my nose. Everything‘s OK.
Everything‘s all right. I keep telling myself over and over again.
I’ve already been in too many situations, not to add another one to my list matters.
I kind of wish for that life, the one that normal kids have, normal people have.
I never had anything normal. I never had a mom and a dad who just loved me for me.
No one to send me off to school in the mornings, no one to see me do any school activities, not like I wanted to anyways, but it would’ve been nice if someone cared.
I tried to wiggle the seat, to see if I could move it around a little bit.
I realize I still have my hoodie on, if I could just get to that knife, I can get out of this.
My eyes finally focus, there’s cheering and plotting honestly.
I don’t know what the fuck is going on. I’ll look around and notice that we are in some kind of warehouse.
The walls are covered with different colors of graffiti.
I take a second to enjoy the art then I see it, DEMON.
Shit, that’s the only thing I can think of.
Fuck Evie, what did I get myself into this time?
I feel like I’m always getting myself into one thing or another, not necessarily intentionally.
I just feel like it follows me around everywhere I go.
Next time Marcus and I spar, I’m gonna ask how to get out of a situation like this.
I snicker to myself, yeah if I make it out of this one.
More and more people start crowding around me; they’re all dressed in their street clothes.
I'm not gonna cry. I’m not gonna cry. This would be like the worst place to have anyone see me have any emotions.
There’s one thing I know about gangsters, you’re not gonna fucking cry in front of them.
Suck it up, little buttercup, cause this is it.
I knew something like this was going to come up eventually.
“Evie, Evie, Evie, what are we going to do with you? Do you think you’re just gonna run around town acting like you’re the Demon princess or something?
” I'm really starting to get tired of that.
Why do they keep saying that shit to me?
I know who this man is. Because he's the spitting image of his son. Or his son is a spitting image of him. Damion’s dad isn't here. No, this is Marcus’s dad, he gets the grunt work.
He stands tall and looks down at me. With those cool blue eyes, and the same blond hair.
He smiles at me crookedly. You'd think he would be taking me to dinner or something.
I drop my head for one second carefully.