While staying with Bethany, I also went to a bar called Outlaw Racks. Very cool. I loved the atmosphere there, but it wasn’t home. Still, it was close since I knew so many people. My cousin’s family is large. Through Chaz, you have the band. Crazier between them all, they live in the same massive house, separated by wings. It’s pretty cool how they had it set up. I love how close they all are—a true family.
Another bonus had been catching up with my friend Cara, who was happily married.
After what happened to me and then her kidnapping, we both went through our own hells and lost touch. It felt good to be able to talk to her again. We still actually text each other daily. Sometimes, it’s a simple text. Other days, it’s a full conversation that goes on for hours.
What I didn’t expect when I moved home, though, was that he joined the club. I should have, but I didn’t think anything of it. My uncles never told me he joined the club. He got what he wanted. I recognized him instantly the first day I walked back through the doors of the clubhouse. He looked at melike he was looking through me and not seeing me at all. I suppose it was a good thing since I wasn’t the same girl. Too much had happened in my life since I’d last seen him.
I thought coming home would be a good thing. In some ways, it was. In others, it was very different.
I felt like an outsider. I wasn’t, but it didn’t change the way I felt. With my uncles finding their women, I knew things were going to be different. They had other focuses. This I didn’t mind. I wanted them happy. It doesn’t matter to me they were close to my age. As long as they were happy and didn’t change who they were, I was good with it.
What made me feel like an outsider was the fact that I was gone for so long and missed so many important moments. My cousins were born. All of them are super cute and sweet. Getting to know Ivy and Sutton. I somewhat knew Stella and always liked her.
I stayed with Reaper and Ivy for the first two months I moved back. I wanted to have a job and be able to put some money in my account before finding a place of my own. I spent most of my savings while in Virginia, and I needed to replenish it before moving into my own house.
During the first bit of time, I helped Ivy out with the twins while I put in applications. Paxton was somuch like Reaper it was laughable, while Sage was a mirror image, even at her age, to her mom, Ivy. The little girl even had her momma’s attitude, which I found hilarious.
It didn’t take long for me to find a job. Still, Reaper, Angel, and Tombstone kept telling me I could work for one of the club’s businesses, but that wasn’t what I wanted. In Montana, I figured out what I wanted to do, and I was going to do it. However, I ended up following through.
Besides, I don’t think I could work for the club.
No matter how much I love them, I can only handle so much of them. I’d been on my own for a while, and I liked my independence. Plus, it was hard enough hiding my nightmares from Reaper. If I had to stick that much closer by working for the club, I wouldn’t be able to hide how much what happened to me still affects my life. If Reaper were to find out, he’d probably spill the beans, and I’d find myself wrapped in bubble wrap. I didn’t need that. I surely don’t want it.
I like my space. I love being on my own. Plus, being home, back in East Texas, I feel I can breathe again. Maybe even heal or at least try.
With my new job, instead of working on a medic rig, I applied for a dispatcher position. I might like helping people. It’s what I did in Montana. I’d takena course and got a job as an EMT, but I needed a change. As a dispatcher, I can still help people. It’s better for me, honestly. I can use my ear to listen, and I don’t have to look over my shoulder to see if someone is going to come after me. I can focus fully on the patient without my fears getting in the way.
It probably makes me sound like a crybaby, however, I don’t care. It’s my life, and I’ll be a crybaby, scaredy cat, whatever, all I want.
As long as I hide the truth from those around me, it doesn’t matter. Because in the end, I’m alone, and no one has to know I still carry the branding of a monster who, even dead, haunts me. I never even showed Reaper when I confided in him.
To make things worse, I’m now in a predicament that can mean life or death for me. The crazed look of the man who stole me away in the night reminds me even more of that Halloween night.
I’d been on my way to work when my car started acting weird. I was going to call one of my uncles to come pick me up and take my car to the shop, but my phone didn’t have any service. It was then I found my car surrounded by a bunch of men. All grimy looking. All looked like they were going to do something if I fought them.
I was completely outnumbered and had to be smart.
The leader, I knew this from the way he’d stepped to my door, held my gaze, and pulled me from the confines. He didn’t say a word.He didn’t speak until he had me where he wanted me. In some warehouse on the other side of town. I found myself put in a room alone for a little while.
But then I was moved to another room, where I was strapped to a chair that looked like the electric chair you’d see in the prison shows.
The leader introduced himself as Samir Byrd, and he kept asking me questions. All of them about my uncles, their families, and the club. He seemed to have patience, but I could tell he was getting pissed by the sound of his voice. His eyes never gave anything away. Samir isn’t thrilled I refused to speak and answer his questions.To give him what he wants.
I refuse to give in. I won’t let this man break me. I’m stronger now than I ever was before. No matter what he might do, I won’t shatter. He can’t break me. I won’t let him.
Let him try his worst. Soon enough, my uncles will realize I’m not at work. Someone will have found my car. They’ll find me, and this will be in the past, just like everything else is.
Samir holds my gaze, and if I were to believe in mind readers, I’d think he was doing just that with how he doesn’t even blink. Then again, neither do I.
“Who marked you?” he finally asks, tilting his head to indicate my arms.
He removed my long-sleeved shirt before strapping me to the chair but thankfully left my tank top in place.
I don’t answer him, but there’s no way he misses the way my body tenses slightly. I can’t help it. It was a reaction I couldn’t stop myself from having.
“Someone had to have hurt you, the way you’re tense tells me they did, so what did they do?” Samir asks, coming to squat down in front of me.
Still, I don’t answer him.
