Page 6 of Dylan's Dad

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“That’s the shock, Darlin’. You need to eat.”

“And why do you care?” I don’t mean it to come off so harsh. “Why does Reaper care? He barely knows me. Why are any of you helping me? I mean Dylan is Reaper’s son.”

Stallion walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. “Darlin’. . .”

“Lola,” I cut him off.

“Sorry. Lola, I told you about our code and Dylan didn’t just break that code. He knew you were under our protection so he basically spit in our faces. Reaper said on that call he has no son anymore, just a daughter. He cares about you and he has laid claim of you as family, which makes you our family as well. We protect our family.”

I sit on the bed, processing Stallion's words. The realization that I have found a new family, a group of people who werewilling to protect me and care for me, washes over me like a warm embrace. It was a foreign feeling; one I had never experienced before. I had spent so long feeling alone and isolated, but now I had these bikers rallying around me.

Tears well up in my eyes as I look at Stallion. "I don't know what to say," I whisper.

"You don't have to say anything, Lola," Stallion replied gently. "Just know that we're here for you. You're safe now."

I nod, unable to find the right words to express my gratitude. I feel a mixture of relief and trepidation at this newfound sense of belonging. It is overwhelming yet comforting all at once.

Stallion stands up from the bed and walks toward the door. "I'll let you rest for now but I'll just be right downstairs if you need me."

"Thank you, Stallion," I say softly, my voice filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "For everything."

Stallion smiles warmly at me before turning to leave the room. As he steps out, I couldn't help but feel a sense of safety wash over me. For the first time in a long while, I didn't have to face the world alone. These bikers had become my protectors, my family, and that gave me a newfound strength.

Alone in the room, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm my racing thoughts. My mind drifted back to the events of the past day, remembering the fear and pain that Dylan had inflicted upon me. I push those emotions aside to deal with them later and focus on the safety I found in this most uncommon of places. As I hold that feeling close I began to drift off.

"You dumb fucking whore!" came the voice that used to make me feel safe but now only caused terror. Dylan, with his dark eyes and rough hands, had become a stranger to me. I wanted to fight back, to scream, to claw at his face, but it was like Iwas frozen. My body refused to move, as if it knew the futility of resistance.

With one swift move, he ripped off my bottoms, exposing my bare skin to the cold air. I could feel the scream crawling up my throat, but no sound came out.

Dylan crawled on top of me, his weight crushing me. Every thrust, every touch, felt like a violation. And as much as I wanted to fight back, I knew it was hopeless. Tears streamed down my face as I prayed for it to end. Then I heard something that didn't make sense. I heard Stallion calling my name.

I jerk awake and I could feel how damp my cheeks are. Stallion is sitting on the bed cradling me to him. "Shhhh. . . you are safe, Lola. I got you."

"Stallion?" I asked, my voice coming out raspy and throat feeling tender.

"I heard you scream. You were having a nightmare."

Stallion's arms tighten around me, providing a much-needed sense of security. I cling to him, my body trembling with residual fear from the nightmare. The reality of what Dylan had done to me still haunted my thoughts, even in my sleep. Stallion's presence was a lifeline, a reminder that I was no longer alone.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"You never have to apologize for having bad dreams, Lola," he replies softly, his fingers running through my hair in a soothing gesture. "We're here for you, remember? We won't let anyone hurt you anymore."

Tears well up in my eyes as I look up at Stallion, amazed by the sincerity in his eyes. Despite being part of an outlaw motorcycle club, his compassion and protectiveness were unwavering.

"Maybe I should just get on a bus and leave. Then I would be free of Dylan and I wouldn't be causing you guys so much trouble."

Releasing me Stallion turns to face me, "Okay, there are so many things wrong with what you just said. First off, protecting you doesn't cause any trouble for us. We find trouble all on our own." He smirks at me. "Secondly, based on what I know of what happened, it seems like the only distance from Dylan that would make you safe is the 6 feet under he is inevitably headed toward."

I suck in a sharp breath at Stallion's blunt words, taken aback by his brutal honesty. His words resonate with a twisted sort of truth, and a part of me knew that he was right. Dylan is a dangerous man, one who wouldn't hesitate to track me down no matter where I went.

"But what about the club?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly. "Wouldn't my presence put all of you at risk?"

Stallion shakes his head, a determined look in his eyes. "We've faced worse than Dylan before, Lola. We've dealt with our fair share of enemies and threats. The club is strong, and we won't let anything or anyone harm our own."

His conviction washed over me like a wave, filling me with a renewed sense of hope. Maybe I could find safety and protection within these walls.

Stallion's tone softens as he speaks, "Besides, Reaper will be released soon. Then, you won't have me constantly hovering over you like a mother hen." A playful glint appearing in his eyes and I can't help but let out a giggle. It is strange to think of him as anything other than the Vice President of an outlaw motorcycle club. "Are you hungry?" I shake my head. He lets out an exasperated sigh, "Well, why don't you come downstairs and keep us company instead?"