Page 7 of Blade

I swallow hard. How in the hell did he find out? I only just paid my down payment this morning, and I paid in cash just so it couldn’t be traced.

After years of working at the club’s diner and saving everything, I can finally move out of Mama’s and off club property, away from my tormentor who looks ready to blow. Things haven’t eased over the years. If anything, he has gotten more aggressive, which has made me more determined to leave this place.

Axe made it perfectly clear a few years ago in front of everyone in the club that I wasn’t allowed to date until I graduated college, not wanting my focus to be anywhere else other than on schoolwork when he overheard me tell one of the old ladies I was asked out on a date, a date I turned down instantly.

I didn’t know the guy much, only seen him in passing, and I didn’t want the club to make his life hell. More like I didn’t want Brock to kill him, which I know sounds like an exaggeration, but it isn’t because, in the end, the guy disappeared.

When Brock heard my brother’s demand, he lost it. He broke my wrist, angry that the rule was in place, that he couldn’t claimme as he planned despite screwing the club girls. He caught me off guard in the kitchen two days after the guy, whose name I still don’t know, went missing.

I sigh as I walk into the kitchen, my brother’s words replaying in my head from a few days ago. I’m still angry that he can treat me like a child. He has no right to decide when I can and cannot date, something I told him in front of everyone. Not that I will date anyway, but he doesn’t know that.

He’s not my dad. He’s not even my savior. He’s allowed evil into his club, evil that won’t let me go and has squashed any hope of a future.

My eyes burn with unshed tears, knowing Brock will most likely be harder on me knowing he can’t claim me like he planned next week before the club with Axe’s rule. He’s kept his distance for two days, but I know my time is slowly dying out until he snaps.

Maybe I could sleep in the club truck for the next few nights…

Just as the thought hits me, I’m grabbed roughly by the wrist, and I gasp in pain before I’m yanked against a hard body.

My eyes lock with Brock's, and nothing but pure fury shines in his light hazel eyes. His pupils are dilated, and true fear hits me hard.

I feel my tears building, the lump in my throat forming as my heart pounds, as I try to get out of his grip, but he tightens it, making me flinch.

“Allowing others to touch what is mine, are we?” he sneers, and I instantly shake my head as dark spots enter my vision, my fear consuming me. “No, funny, because that’s not what Axe said in front of everyone, and now, I can’t put my fucking patch where it belongs!”

Brock squeezes my wrist tighter and my tears fall because as if in slow motion, I know what he’s about to do and I know I can’t stop it.

He yanks my wrist sideways, and I feel a snap as blinding pain shoots through my hand and arm. I cry out before he throws me on the floor. I land with a lump, my head banging on the counter before Brock follows me. I flinch, expecting him to inflict more pain, but instead, he gently grabs my wrist, and the kitchen door opens, and his facial features change, his tone softening.

“Ah, treasure, what did you do?” he asks softly and my heart hammers.

“What happened?” I hear my brother ask and Brock keeps eye contact with me and lies, “I was in the pantry with Blondie when I heard a thump and found her on the floor. It looks like she may have broken her wrist.”

Axe spent the whole time at the hospital having a go at me for not being more careful, all while Brock acted like the concerned VP, only to then rape me twice that very same night while burning my flesh as punishment.

After years of hell, I finally have a way to leave, and I won’t allow my brother to stop me. I’m an adult now, so he has no claim.

I keep eye contact with my big brother, who is waiting for my answer. His brow is arched, his hands on his hips and anger radiates off him that I can feel from here.

I didn’t want to come here tonight. I’ve been on my feet all day at work after another waitress called in sick, and I'm dog-tired. I also have a paper to write for my clinical psychology class.

Working and going to school full-time is hard enough, but having Brock come to my room every night is tiring. I can’t cope anymore, and honestly, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve thought about just ending it altogether.

I chuckle internally. How pathetic is that, huh? I’m currently in school hoping to go for my PhD so I can help people that have been in my position, who have been abused and raped, to helpthem want to live and fight against their traumas. Yet here I am, already wondering how deep I need to press with a knife on my wrist to bleed out.

“Answer me, Luna!” Axe demands, and I try and swallow the lump in my throat.

“I’m twenty-two, Axe,” I remind him, and his eyes narrow.

“You’re also a club princess, Luna, meaning you aren’t safe outside of these gates full-time!” he snaps back, and I have to hold in my chuckle at his words.

I’m safe here though? Sure...

Mama adds, “You are not moving out! This is your home, and like hell am I burying you next to your cheating father!”

I shake my head and bite my bottom lip, not wanting to snap back at her and I mouth,‘My cheating father,’with a mock and Axe winces seeing my action.

Everyone in this room knows she’s screwing Screwball, a taken brother. The only person who is unaware is Cleo, his old lady, his pregnant old lady at that. He didn’t want Mama, but suddenly, one morning, he woke up with her in his bed, and they were both naked. She claimed he started things, and she promised to tell Cleo unless he continued to screw her, and instead of going to his woman, he went along with Mama’s threats despite knowing she could be lying and now five months later, he’s still doing as she demanded all behind an amazing woman’s back.

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