Prologue
Hellhound
Breathing heavily, I narrow my gaze to slits, staring at the man on the ground as he bleeds. His blood puddling under him, coating the grass as it does my hands.
“Asher,” Stella calls my name, her voice trembling in fear.
I slowly tilt my head in her direction and meet her gaze. I take in the tears running down her face. The torn dress she’d been wearing when she left the house. I also note the blood also staining her skin.
I don’t say anything. I can’t. My entire body hurts, and I’ve got to finish handling this situation before I can take care of myself.
“Please, Asher, say something . . . anything,” Stella cries, trying to hold her dress together to keep herself covered.
I don’t say anything, but I do strip off my cut and shirt. I hand my tee to Stella and put my cut back on. I reach into my pocket and grasp my cell phone, flipping it open. I go to my contacts and find the number I’m looking for and hit the call button.
“Yeah,” Reaper answers on the third ring.
I turn away from my sister and close my eyes. I only just got my patch with the club, and this is not what I was to be doing. Reaper took over being Prez a couple of years ago, and he’s good at what he does.
“I need help, Prez.” I hate having to ask, but right now, I need my brothers. They’re the only ones I trust at the moment. If the cops are called, I’ll be locked up, and there’s no way in hell I’m about to go down for gutting a rapist.
“Right, where are you?” Reaper demands. In the background, I can hear movement and know he’s on the move.
I give him the address and hang up. I need to start getting shit gathered together for when my brothers get here. We’ve got to get rid of the body and all evidence of what happened here.
“Asher, please, talk to me. I love you, you’re my big brother, and I can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me. I should have listened to you,” Stella cries and touches my shoulder.
I shrug off her touch and turn on her with anger in my eyes.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you right now.
I fuckin’ warned you, and you didn’t listen to me.
You’re a fuckin’ Ryan, and you knew better.
Mom and Dad raised you better than this.
Now because of you and your stupidity for not listening to me, I’ll remember this shit every time I look in the mirror,” I snarl, pointing at my face where it hurts the most. I feel the blood running down my face and know it’s sliced open.
It’s the only time the fucker got close enough to take the knife to me.
In the end, I used the same knife on him, sinking it into his chest repeatedly.
“I’m sorry, Asher,” Stella sobs. Her hands cover her mouth, and she shakes her head. “I screwed up, and I’m so, so, sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Grow the fuck up, then,” I snarl and jerk my chin to the side. “Go stand over there and wait until I get this shit taken care of. Then your ass is on the first plane out of here. You’re going to Ireland.”
I’ve been watching my sister since our parents died after I turned eighteen. Stella is nearly that age now, but I’m done. She can go live with our uncle and cousins there until she goes to college.
I can’t do this anymore. Because she didn’t listen to me when I told her to come home after school, she went to a damn party she had no business being at.
Then she calls me drunkenly, crying, wanting me to come get her.
She gave me an address, but it was to some warehouse building.
I don’t even want to know what the hell was in her head.
I’ll forever remember it because it’s now seared in my mind.
I showed up just as the motherfucker was raping my sister, holding a knife to her throat.
I love my sister, but I’m done. She needs to grow up and learn to stop being as fuckin’ selfish as she is.
I’ve sacrificed, and she doesn’t know what all I did to keep her with me, and this is the thanks I get.
A scar that I’ll never be able to forget.
It will be there taunting me for the rest of my life as it reminds me of how much I failed at protecting my sister and the blood that now stains my hands.
Isabelle
Ten Years Ago – Age 16
“Finally, I’m home,” I sigh, thankful to be off work, granted home is no better. I can at least go to sleep for a couple of hours before getting up and ready for school.
Tomorrow being the weekend, I’ll go to Everleigh’s and be able to relax with her and the rest of our friends. We’re supposed to be going out to one of the ATV trials to have some fun. I can’t wait. It’s going to be a blast.
I just have to get through the rest of this night first. Then I’m free—for the time being.
Stepping into the house, I immediately regret coming home. Inside, my parents are both strung out of their minds, and their dealer, Dexter, is sitting with them. I should have known he’d be here. It’s been a month, and he always comes to collect.
My parents aren’t like others. My mom doesn’t bake cookies in the oven or hold me while I cry over a boy calling me names.
My dad doesn’t teach me to defend myself or take me to father-daughter dinners.
No, my parents are junkies and only care about their next fix. They’ve been this way my whole life.
In the past year, it’s gotten worse. Dexter comes to collect on a monthly basis.
He does this by giving my parents what they want, and they depend on me to pay.
I learned to give in and do as I’m told because after the first time I refused to do so, their dealer didn’t go at them.
He came after me. I was a virgin, and he raped me.
I ended up going to a free clinic for help because not only did he do that, but he also beat me to a bloody pulp. I was barely able to walk afterward.
I learned, and I’ve dealt with it since. My friends don’t know the depths of it all, but they do know about the majority of it.
My parent’s dealer lifts his gaze to mine and grins while he appraises me as if I were a piece of meat.
“Do you have my money?” Dexter asks gruffly, keeping that smirk in place.
I swallow nervously and nod, hoping that the money will be enough.
I don’t just work one job after school. I have two.
Both are barely enough to keep everything afloat.
If it weren’t for the fact that the rent is so cheap and my parents having food stamps, I’d be screwed.
The light bill is the main thing that really hits me hard.
I’m supposed to be a kid still making mistakes, not being an adult trying to manage everything.
“I suggest you go get it then,” he states, licking his bottom lip, that knowing glint showing in his eyes as he stands.
Nodding, I quickly march down the hall, knowing he’s following.
I step into my room and go straight to the drawer where I keep the money. I open it only to find it all missing.
“Where’s my money, Isa?”
I cringe as his front comes flush with my back.
“I–I . . . th–they . . . must’ve taken it.” Tears well in my eyes as I know what comes next.
Dexter chuckles deviously and grips both my arms. “Well, then it looks like you’re mine for the weekend, then Isa.”
I find myself shoved further into the room. I stumble and fall onto my bed that sits on the floor. My eyes go to Dexter to find him leering at me.
“Get ready, baby. I’ve been looking forward to my time with you.” He smirks, closing the door.
I inwardly send a prayer that I survive the weekend and hope one day I’ll be free of this horrible life I live.