Chapter 1
Chapter One
Five years later
Hannibal
I resist the urge to throw my phone across the room, but only because it would be the fourth one I’ve broken in the last few months.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Shaw. I’ve exhausted every other avenue. If you don’t take custody of Millie when the time comes, I’ll have no choice but to place her in foster care.”
I rub my hand over my face and let out a frustrated breath.
“I’ll call you back.”
I hang up before she can say another fucking word and hurl my phone against the wall.
Blood boiling, I storm over to the desk and swipe everything off, sending it all crashing to the floor.
Picking up the chair, I throw it across the room before turning and flipping the bed.
Chest heaving, fists clenched, I stare at the mess, feeling no relief.
What I need is to hurt someone.
Make them scream. Make them bleed.
Yeah, that’d go over real fucking well with the social worker, wouldn’t it?
I stagger back and slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor.
Sitting there, I try to figure a way out of this clusterfuck I’m in.
A few weeks ago, I got the call that there’d been an accident.
Millie and her mom, Melissa, were in a car crash.
I was shocked. I didn’t even know I was down as an emergency contact.
And as much of a dick as it makes me, my first thought had been whether Millie was okay.
I rushed to the hospital expecting the worst, only to find out my kid didn’t have a scratch on her.
Once I knew Melissa would pull through, I figured I’d slip back into the shadows again.
That’s what I did when I found out Melissa was pregnant with Millie.
Partly because I was afraid that my DNA would make my kid as fucked up as me, and partly because I knew I’d be a danger to both of them.
Melissa, thankfully, had understood.
She’d seen me have one of my episodes and wanted nothing to do with me after that.
She was more than happy to take my kid and raise her alone, as long as I paid child support.
And I did. I hadn’t missed a payment in fourteen years.
What I had missed, though, was that Melissa’s parents died a few years ago in a house fire, and two years later, her sister passed away from a heart attack.
So when the doctors told Melissa she had an inoperable brain tumor—the reason she passed out and lost control of the car, almost killing both her and Millie—and only had weeks left, it was a blow I hadn’t been expecting.
I would be the only family Millie had left and I was nothing more than a stranger.
.
Melissa might’ve survived the crash, but she was still dying.
And all the people who could’ve taken Millie in after she’s gone are dead.
Now, I’m all that stands between Millie and foster care.
And I couldn’t help but think that foster care would be the better option.
She’d never have a normal life with me.
I’d terrify her. And that thought didn’t make me smile like it did when I scared other people.
Grabbing my pack of cigarettes, I leave my room and head out the back way, and around the back of the building.
Stopping, I pull out a smoke and place it between my lips.
I light it and inhale deeply, letting the nicotine fill my lungs.
“I thought you quit?”
I look over and see Midas sitting on one of the benches.
“I did. What are you doing out here?”
“Enjoying the peace and quiet.”
I walk over and sit beside him.
I offer him a cigarette, but he shakes his head.
“Took me too long to quit. If I start up again, I’ll never stop. What’s got you lighting up again?”
“Bad day, that’s all.” I inhale, watching the tip burn brightly before blowing out a couple of smoke rings.
“You grew up in foster care, right?”
Midas tenses beside me.
“Yeah, why?”
“I know someone whose kid might end up in the system, and I was wondering what it was like.”
“That’s rough. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I’m sure there might be some decent foster homes out there, but I sure as shit didn’t see any of them. You know I can’t have kids, right? Well, that’s because I got sick, and the foster family I was with at the time wouldn’t take me to the hospital. I ended up getting an infection that made me sterile.”
“Jesus.”
“Could have been worse. I’ve always been pretty big, so most of them left me alone, but the smaller kids were easy targets.”
Something in his tone sounds off but before I can ask he continues.
“Broken bones and stiches were an everyday thing. We got starved as punishment and made to cook and clean all day. But the girls had it worse. They had to deal with our foster brothers and dads–the sick fucks. I remember one girl telling our foster mom that her husband had been sneaking into her room at night, and the bitch told her if she didn’t dress like a slut, he wouldn’t bother her.”
“The fuck?”
“Don’t worry, I fucked that asshole up so bad that he never went near her again.”
“Wish I’d been there.” I would have done more than just fuck him up.
I’d have cut out his bowel and spoon fed him the contents.
“No, you really don’t,” he snaps before sighing.
“Like I said, there’s some good ones out there. Just a crapshoot which one you end up with.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes.
I try to imagine what it’d be like living with a teenager, one who’s basically a stranger to me.
But then I think of some skeevy man putting his hands on her, trying to take something that’s only hers to give, and my blood starts to boil.
“If I were your friend, I’d be doing whatever it takes to keep that kid out of the system, especially if the kid isn’t a baby. Everyone wants to adopt a baby, but no one wants a teenager. They stay until they age out and end up in shitty jobs and, if they’re lucky, a shitty apartment too. I was lucky. I found Ravens right away, started prospecting, and never looked back. But most of my foster siblings are either dead or are damn close.”
I curse.
It doesn’t matter if there are a thousand good foster homes out there—not if there’s even a chance Millie will end up in a bad one.
“You okay? You seem a little off, and that’s saying something when it comes to you.”
I flip him off.
“I just have something I’m working through.”
“Does this have anything to do with you disappearing all the time and missing church?”
I look at him.
“You stalking me, Midas?”
“Please, I have better things to do than follow your crazy ass around all day,” he scoffs.
“Better things to do, like Legs?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, taking a drink of his beer, which I hadn't noticed until now.
“So if I take Legs to my room tonight, you won’t care?”
His grip tightens on the beer bottle. And for a second, I think he might smash it over my head.
“She can do what she wants. She’s a club girl, after all,” he says. Trying to act like he doesn’t care.
“Works for me.” I slap his chest before standing up and heading inside instead of calling him on his bullshit.
I’m almost at the door when he calls my name.
“Hannibal.”
I turn to look over my shoulder.
“She’ll be with me tonight.”
“Tomorrow then,” I taunt.
“She’ll be with me then too.”
“You making her your old lady?”
“You know I can’t.”
“Can’t isn’t the same as won’t—unless she’s not interested, of course.”
I let that hang between us because anyone with eyes can see she’s crazy about him.
“I’m not going to make a club girl, my old lady,” he finally says, and I shake my head.
“Then cut her loose because she deserves better than you messing with her head.”
Not wanting to hear his excuses, I head inside the saloon and make my way to the bar. Havoc calls my name and jerks his chin toward his office. I weave through the tables and head down the hall, not bothering to knock when I get there.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Sit. I need to talk to you about something.”
I close the door, take one of the chairs in front of his desk, and watch him as he leans back, observing me.
“Something wrong?” I drawl, knowing I haven’t done anything lately that would piss him off.
“As you know, I want Khan and Driller removed from their positions.”
I nod. Khan and Driller were the reason Havoc spent the last five years in prison, but when we found out Khan sent two brothers from Ohio down here to kill Havoc, their fate was sealed. The idiots somehow mistook G for Havoc when G was out riding with Amity. They hit the bike, sending them flying, before returning and opening fire. It was only Amity’s quick thinking that kept them from being killed.
It was a blow to everyone here at the mother chapter. We’d already dealt with our share of traitors, but it seemed fate wasn’t done fucking with us yet.
“I need a replacement for Khan.”
I lean forward. “Who you have in mind?”
“You.”
I stare at him and start laughing. But when he doesn’t join in, I stop.
“You’re fucking with me, right?”
“You’re strong and ruthless enough to lead them. They’ll follow you at first because they’re scared of you, and then they’ll follow you out of respect. I can’t think of a better person for the job.”
“Have you been drinking?”
He smirks. “No, but I’ll warn you now—being president’ll make you want to drink.”
“Havoc, I can’t be president. I’m fucked up. I know you’ve heard the rumors about me. I sure as shit didn’t magically become sane while you were in prison.”
“I don’t need someone sane. I need someone loyal.”
I shut my mouth at that. I might play by my own rules, but I’m a Raven through and through.
“There’s more. I have a kid.”
He looks at me, shocked, while I fill him in on the rest.
“Jesus. I gotta admit, I didn’t see that coming. But it doesn’t change anything for me. I still need you in Ohio. And maybe a fresh start would be good for the kid. Less memories to haunt her.”
“What the fuck do I know about raising a kid, Havoc?”
“The same as any parent, fuck-all. You figure it out as you go. But take over as president, and you’ll be an expert in no time.”
“You saying being president is like being a daddy to a bunch of teenagers?”
“Worse. Toddlers. I swear Toot and Probe could test the patience of a saint.”
I scrub my hand down my face. “I’m not sure I’m taking Millie in yet. Kid’s probably fucked up enough without me making it worse.”
“So get yourself a house mouse. Or, better yet, find an old lady to look after her. You can keep her safe while someone else looks after her. Hell, anything’s better than foster care.”
I stand up and walk over to the window, needing to think on my feet.
“Why don’t you go have a drink? Think it over. I’m riding up there in a couple of days to meet with Khan and see what the fuck’s going on—so you’ve got some time to get back to me.”
I nod and leave without another word and head straight to the bar.
I spot Legs sitting at the end of the bar, holding a bottle of water, lost in her own world. I decide to join her.
“Hoops, give me a whiskey—neat.”
“You got it, Hannibal,” he calls out as I take the seat next to Legs.
She looks up and tenses. I don’t take it personally. Anyone with half a brain gets nervous around me— and with good reason.
“You got a plan to get Midas to pull his head out of his ass?”
She doesn’t try to play dumb. Not with me.
“No plan. I’m not going to beg someone to be with me. He’s either all in or he’s not. And he’s not. Honestly, I don’t think he’ll ever allow himself to be all in—at least not with someone like me,” she says, taking a sip of her water, her hand shaking a little before she puts the bottle down.
“You prepared to take him like this? Even if all he ever gives you are scraps of affection and a quick fuck when he’s in the mood?”
She grimaces and stands from her stool. “No. I’m prepared to leave my home, my job—everything—and start over, because I know he’ll never see me as anything other than a whore.”
“You are a whore, Legs.” She flinches like I hit her. “I’m not saying that to be a dick. That’s your job, and there’s no shame in that. I’m just saying if you want him to see you as more, you need to be more.”
She smiles, but I can tell it’s fake.
“I don’t need to be anything but who I am, Hannibal. I’ve spent a long time trying to please everyone. And what do I have to show for it? I still go to bed alone and have nothing but superficial friendships. It always makes me laugh how fucking quick bikers are to throw around labels. You’d think you’d all know better.”
She leans in, lowering her voice so only I can hear her. “You talk about me being a whore, but you never once asked me why. What makes a girl become a whore? Nobody gives a shit about that, though, do they. As long as they have a tight pussy, who cares what their story is, right?”
I shake my head. “Not my business.”
“No, but then neither was everything else that came out of your mouth. I have to wonder, though—did you ever ask Midas to change for me? Did you tell him not to take any of the other club girls to his room? Because the only difference between our whorish ways is I get paid—and he gives his away for free.” She grabs her water and walks away, making me smirk.
I can’t help it. I like how feisty she is. I like to fuck feisty until it cries. But I have enough shit going on right now without worrying about coming to blows with Midas.
Hoops sets the whiskey down in front of me with a quiet thunk. “Here you go, Hannibal.”
“Thanks,” I say, knocking back the glass in one go. The burn helps—barely.
I go to get up when Lil sits down beside me. One look at her face and I tense.
“What’s wrong?” I bark. She jumps, almost sliding off the stool, before I grab her arm and stop her..
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lil.”
I let her go and wait as she takes a deep breath.
“I was doing a shift at the shelter, and a fight broke out. I had to call the cops. I didn’t know what else to do.” She wrings her hands.
“The most important thing is to keep yourself safe. If that means calling the cops, then call the cops.”
“Yeah, but the cops here know me—know what I do,” she whispers as she looks at me. “My boss doesn’t know. I want to keep my work separate.”
“They say something to you? Threaten to go to your boss or something?”
“I didn’t give them a chance. I just left. I need to call her and explain—she should hear it from me before anyone else. But… I’m a chicken.” She shakes her head, “Anyway, I was on my way back here, and I… I thought I was being followed?—”
I lay my hand on her arm. “You were followed?” I growl.
“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I just overreacted because I was already freaked out. The cops made it sound like I’m a trouble magnet. So when I saw the headlights in my rear-view mirror, my brain went straight to the worst-case scenario.”
“Lil, you’re the most level-headed person I know. If you think someone was following you, then I believe you.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy?”
I grin, ignoring the way it makes her shiver. “We’re all a little crazy, but no. If you think someone was following you, then chances are they were. What I don’t know is why, and whether it was some asshat from the shelter or someone from Khan’s club. After what happened with G and Amity, we can’t take any chances. I’m going to let G and Havoc know, but in the meantime, I want you to take a prospect with you whenever you go out.”
“They’re spread way too thin as it is. I’m not sure if Dice or Hoops even sleep anymore.”
I tap the bar top with my fingers, knowing she’s right.
“Alright, leave it with me. I’ll get one of the brothers to watch you until we figure it out.”
She smiles shyly at me. “Thanks, Hannibal,” she says, hopping down from her stool.
I nod and watch her walk away. I picture bending her over the pool table and fucking her, but my dick barely twitches. It’s not interested in anyone anymore. And that’s when shit starts to get dangerous.
I’m not the kind of guy that blows off steam by going to the gym when I’m frustrated. I’m the guy who finds a victim to play with. And what do you know? The second I think about watching someone bleed out, my dick gets hard.
I’m a fucked-up mess, and the only reason I’m not behind bars is because I haven’t been caught yet.
So how the hell do I bring a teenager into my twisted world and not fuck her up?