Chapter One.
I was going to kill him! Dante was a prick, and in my opinion, adoption was a mercy where he was concerned.
“Bitch!” Dante hissed in sheer anger.
I grinned evilly, and my twin shuddered.
Tony recognised that grin. All my siblings knew that meant trouble, but it never deterred Dante.
I might be fifteen, and Dante ten, but we couldn’t stand each other.
Dante hadn’t stopped causing problems since he could walk.
I swear, Mama Phoe should have let me drown him.
The world would be a better place if I had drowned him.
“Back off,” Tony warned Dante, who glanced at him and shrugged.
“Shit’s about to hit the fan,” Peyton murmured as she took a seat at the dinner table. My youngest sister shook her head. It amused me that, every so often, she cursed but was an angel in front of our parents.
“Will you behave for once?” Scout demanded, entering with his twin, Timmy. They were both eleven now and usually sided with Dante.
“Talking to me?” I snarled, bristling.
“For once, no. Dante, just be good. Mom’s feeling the pressure today,” Scout ordered.
“Mom’s constantly stressed,” Dante shot back, and my temper notched up even more. The damn spoilt brat. Dante had no understanding of what life was like without money.
Agitated, I shook my head. I was two when Mama Phoe adopted Tony and me.
I remembered little before coming here. Mama Phoe always said that I claimed her, and I remembered that day.
It never left me. I’d been desperate for a mom for Tony and me, and when I saw Mama Phoe and her kind smile, I made my move.
People would say we’d been raised in luxury.
They’d be correct; we had been. But I do recall being cold, hungry, and scared.
Those feelings hadn’t faded in Tony or me.
It took years for the fear to fade that she’d send us back, but that never stopped me from being myself.
When Dad came along, that frightened me even more.
What if Dad didn’t want a big family and got rid of Tony and me because we were adopted?
We were a multicultural family: Black, Mexican, Caucasian, and none of that mattered a damn.
We were family; blood meant nothing to us kids.
Family was what you created, and Mama Phoe had built something beautiful.
She had a lot of love in her heart. Such a shame that it extended to that little prick.
“Shut the hell up,” Garrett snapped as he entered the dining room and smacked Dante around the back of his head.
Anyone else other than Garrett and Jake, and there’d have been a fight.
But while they were both stable health-wise, they could and did get ill easily.
The entire family looked out for Garrett and Jake, even the younger kids.
They may be eleven, but I remembered the early years when it was often touch-and-go.
“If you dare start, Dante, I will lock you in the coal bunker,” Aaron threatened as he walked in.
I grinned at our big brother. I absolutely adored Aaron.
He was twenty now and in his last year at college before heading to the Denver Wild NFL team.
That was Aaron’s plan, anyway. He was good, brilliant in fact, which was funny because Aaron was English.
He said the NFL was called rugby back in England, and they didn’t use all the padding either.
I’d seen some of those rugby players, and they were ugly bastards! I was glad Aaron was protected because my brother was pretty. Jared and Christian walked in, discussing something, and stopped when they picked up on the tension.
“Jar-jar!” Peyton yelled and flung herself at him. Jared caught our eight-year-old sister and flung Peyton into the air before catching her. Peyton grinned and snuggled in. While Aaron was my favourite after Tony, Jared was Peyton’s.
“Hey, kid,” Jared said, another sibling with an English accent.
Mama Phoe had five children born in England: our eldest brother, Micah, aka Fanatic; our oldest sister, Jodie; then Christian, Jared, and Aaron.
Dante and Peyton were born in South Dakota, and the rest of us were adopted from various other states. We were a real mixed-up family.
“Is Cody home?” I asked, and Jared shook his head.
“Bro has a date,” he teased, and I glowered.
“Not with that silly bitch…”
“Eddie!” Dad rebuked as he entered. I perked up.
Dad winked, and I wriggled happily. Dad was better.
Much better. I didn’t understand everything that had happened, but Dad had been really ill.
So sick that Mama Phoe had taken him somewhere for help.
They came back with some women bikers, and they had caught my interest.
Nun, one of the sisters, had been pretty nice.
She’d answered loads of my questions about the Royal Harlots and what it was like being in a female MC.
Nun’s answers had given me ideas for the future.
I certainly knew plenty of girls! That wasn’t today’s problem, though.
First, I had to find a way to maim Dante so he couldn’t speak anymore.
“What are you plotting?” Dad asked, leaning down and whispering in my ear.
“How to maim Dante and escape jail time.”
Dad roared with laughter and kissed my cheek. I grinned. Dad understood I meant it, but also knew I wouldn’t go too far… supposedly. Dante was getting on my last nerve.
Dante and I were a clash of personalities and intellect – as in I had it and Dante didn’t!
“Mom will be down soon, she said to start,” Dad announced as he pulled a chair out.
The younger children got up. It was the rule in our house: the youngest ate first, then in age order, until the adults, with Mama Phoe and Dad last. Mama Phoe had a horror of kids going hungry, and I’d heard the stories of the evil man she believed she’d been married to.
Unlike most of my siblings, I also knew the asshole was dead, and Mama Phoe had killed him.
Mama Phoe and Dad had talked about him when I was younger.
I’d shamelessly eavesdropped. I was the kid who had to know everything, and it bugged the hell out of me if I didn’t.
Nobody understood how many secrets I held; they’d be shocked if they realised.
But as Mama Phoe always said, with knowledge comes power.
I’d never blackmail anyone with what I knew, but it gave me a boost if it ever came to a fight.
Something hit me on the cheek, and I whipped my head around. Had Dante thrown something?
“Dante!” Dad snapped out, and Dante grinned, totally unrepentant.
Glancing down, I spotted a piece of carrot. Tonight’s meal was pot roast.
“Do it again!” I snarled. Dad shot me a warning look, but hell no, I wasn’t backing down.
Jared reached out and smacked Dante on the back of his head. “Not tonight, shithead. I already told you, Mum isn’t feeling right.”
Dante screwed up his face. “Eddie deserves it.”
“No!” Jared snapped, and Dante glared. “I’m not Dad, and I will beat your ass!”
Dante subsided, and we began eating. I’d just taken a bite of potato when something wet hit my cheek again. As I looked down, a piece of broccoli slid onto my lap. I didn’t hesitate and picked it up, dipping it in gravy before throwing it back at Dante.
“No!” Dante yelled, shoving his chair backwards and looking down at his tee. “This is my favourite! You’re such a bitch!”
“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” I retorted.
“Sit down, both of you!” Dad snapped, but Dante wasn’t listening, and I wasn’t taking his shit sitting down.
Dante threw a handful of peas, and I retaliated.
Before anyone could breathe, food was flying as Dante, and I erupted into full-out war.
Our siblings ducked while the older ones tried to stop us.
Dad bellowed, but Dante and I weren’t paying attention.
We began dragging bowls and plates towards us and throwing the food inside.
Finally, I leapt onto the table, scrabbled across it, and grabbed Dante around the neck and shoved his face into his plate.
“God, I hate you!” I hissed.
Dante lashed out as Aaron seized me. “Christ almighty!”
“At least I wasn’t rejected and a pity story!” Dante spat.
Everyone froze. Dante’s words had been incredibly cruel. Several of our siblings gasped.
Dante dug in. “Eddie, you were so unwanted that your real mama dumped you at the orphanage and ran. If you hadn’t attached yourself to my mom, you’d still be there. Mom was too nice to refuse you, a manipulative beggar. Mom should have left you there!”
I saw pure red. I yanked free of Aaron and punched Dante straight in the nose. He yelled as I struck a second time, and then I smashed his face into the bowl of mash. Dante began making choking noises as he struggled to breathe.
Aaron grabbed me and swung me away as Dad hauled Dante up.
I was kicking and screaming and wanted to hurt Dante in the worst way possible.
That little shithead – to borrow a phrase from Mama Phoe.
I wasn’t the only adopted kid, and what Dante just said wounded us all.
Dad got hold of Dante, but Tony was there and smashed Dante in the nose again.
Furiously, Tony then rubbed food in Dante’s face before upending one of the pots over him.
“Tony!” Jared cried, shocked as he grabbed my twin. Tony, the most placid sibling, stepped back as Jared pulled him away.
“You’re not Mom and Dad’s real kid!” Dante yelled.
“That means none of us are,” Scout said slowly.
Dante looked surprised before turning his head to Scout. “What? No, you are, Eddie isn’t. Eddie’s adopted!”
“So are we,” Timmy replied.
“No, you’re my brothers,” Dante insisted.
“Yeah, you’re no brother of mine,” Garrett retorted. He stood beside me, as did the rest of the adopted siblings. Even Peyton took my side.
“I’ve heard enough,” a voice stated angrily, and we spun and faced Mama Phoe. She leaned against the doorway, looking pale.
“Mama?” Tony gasped, hurrying over. Mama Phoe reached out, touched his face, and offered him a loving smile.