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Lissa:That would depend on what needs to be kept confidential. Can you identify yourself, or is that part of the secret?
Huh. Was I being lured into a trap right now? Would responding get me killed? Hell, reaching out to her was another nail in my coffin, wasn’t it? Fuck it, what’s the point in acting coy, when I’m dead anyway?
Me:Did you get my letter?
Another long pause followed, and I imagined her sitting in that prissy little office, her red hair perfectly styled, and a shocked look on her face, or maybe she wasn’t shocked at all. Maybe she knew from my first message. Maybe she’d been waiting for something like this.
Lissa:Yes. Ice has seen it too. I don’t keep secrets from him, or the club, when it affects them. I’m sure you can understand that.
Fucking Phoenix MC. The reason for everything bad that had happened to me since…fuck… was I even putting the blame in the right place? Hadn’t my life gone to shit way back before then? Wasn’t the murder of my father a blessing in the end? What if I’d returned to the club under his rule? Would I be alive now? Would I be as brutal and evil as him?
Lissa:Are you safe?
Now why would she ask a thing like that? Was she fishing for information? Was she trying to trick me into saying something that would give away my location? Was Ice somehow tracking me, after all? Jesus fuck. What was I doing?
Me:For now. I won’t stay anywhere for long, so don’t try getting Ice to track me.
Way to sound like a petulant child, right?
Me:I didn’t know you were my sister. I’m sorry I came at you like that. I guess I just needed to say that.
Lissa:I can’t imagine what your upbringing was like, if you were stuck with our father, and I’m sorry for whatever you went through.
Why the hell was she fucking pitying me like this? My dad, our dad, was a fucking god. He was just a brutal animal with it, and he had to be. You had to be strong to be a Club President, and he understood that. Reacher was a very different kind of leader, but if I was honest with myself, I couldn’t exactly fault his methods. It was more about the fact that he’d killed my father, and stolen my birthright from me. The club should have been mine.
Lissa:It’s okay if you reach out now and then, like this, I mean. I won’t breathe a word to anyone if you stay away from the club. They’d kill you if you returned. You do understand that, right?
Yeah, of course I fucking understood that. I saved the chat and closed it. I couldn’t bring myself to respond again, and now that I’d closed the chat, the contact was broken, and she couldn’t reply. That was the only reason I’d tried it, because I knew I could back out and leave her without a trace of me. Lissa. My fuckingsister. Why the hell hadn’t I known about her before now? Or before that day I nearly killed her.
Since I’d been more lucid, I’d been trying to filter my way back through all of my memories of my father, and I couldn’t remember one interaction that made me think he was talking about Lissa. Sure, he had old lovers, and ‘bitches’ as he’d called them, and sure, he disappeared now and then for a day or two, but that hadn’t been something I was allowed to question. ‘Don’t you dare fucking question me, boy’ had been drilled into my head at a young age.
Three
Thewomanwascrying,and wouldn’t stop, and when I peeked through the gap in the door to the bar, I could see three of dad’s bikers holding her down, but my dad? He was doing something awful to her. He was fucking her, I knew what that was because it happened here a lot, but she’d been begging him to stop, and she sounded like he was hurting her. It made me feel weird, because as a teenage boy, yeah, I was aware of sex, and aware of my growing urges, but this wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
My dad was hurting a woman, and something in me made me want to stop him. Would I be brave enough though? Would stopping him be possible, and even if I did try, wouldn’t he turn nasty on me instead? She screamed and started begging again, and my dad yelled something to one of his men, something about shutting her mouth, by stuffing it with something.
As Skull started to laugh, and unzipped his jeans, the woman lifted her head, and her brown eyes met mine, her terror and pain evident in her cries, and struggles, and that haunted look in her eyes.
“NO!” I yelled, suddenly running into the room and grabbing Razor’s arm, as he reached for her hair, and dragged her head down.
“Boy, get the hell out of here!” Dad yelled, thrusting into the woman again, and making her scream.
“Dad, no, please! You’re hurting her!” Razor turned, and grabbed my face in a tight grip, as they all started to laugh.
“Aw, look at that, Pres, we’re ‘hurting her’,” Skull said, like my concern was a joke to him.
“We’re fucking, kid, this is just how it looks.”
“But… but she’s sad. She’s crying. I don’t think she wants-”
“Doesn’t matter. Bitches exist for one reason. For us to fuck their slutty holes,” Razor hissed, shoving my face roughly away, as he reached down, tore the woman’s shirt open, and fisted one of her boobs.
“Come on, please. She keeps saying she wants you to stop. Please!”
My dad shot me a look then, one that sent icy fingers down my spine. That was a look that I’d seen before, and I’d taken such a beating, I’d passed out. Oh god no. I backed up a step, and straight into a hard body. Dad’s men seemed to appear from the shadows, where they’d clearly been standing, to watch them hurting the crying woman.
A hand locked around my throat, and I was walked forward again, right up to the woman.
