“And who are you?” the younger guy asks, his hazel eyes taking me in, and I narrow my eyes.
“Someone you don’t want to mess with!” I threaten, and he chuckles.
“Sweetheart, we have Clara here tied up with a gun to her head and I’m guessing, considering you look alike apart from the eyes that she’s your mother so I wouldn’t get cocky if I was you otherwise my dad here will get trigger happy,” the young guy sneers and I snort.
“Do you have any idea who she really is?” I ask, cocking a brow at him. The guy just shrugs until I state, “She’s Bret Miller’s wife, as in Glock, the former Sergeant in Arm’s brother of the Dark Angel’s MC, the mother of Venom, their current road captain.”
The older man tenses while the younger swallows hard and glares at my mother and she winces.
“Then I suggest you call him down here, sweetheart, because your mother here owes seven hundred thousand dollars,” the older guy says with a little more caution now and this time, I tense, looking at my mother, who slowly closes her eyes, tears falling.
“Move the tape on her mouth,” I demand, and the younger guy raises a brow. I threaten, “Either move the tape, or I’ll be calling my act first, think later, big brother, who would eat you both for breakfast, or does his road name not precede him?”
I’m trying to act big, but my fear is beginning to take over. All it takes is for that man's finger to slip, and Mama is dead.
The older guy doesn’t hesitate and yanks the tape off my mother’s mouth, making her cry out and I growl at him. He puts his hand up in innocence and explains, “It’s better to do it quicker,” and I snap, “It’s better not to do it at all.”
He flinches, and I give him a hard glare before checking over my mother. I narrow my eyes at her fat bottom lip.
Mother….
“You have to understand, darling. We have a business, and while yes, it is dodgy, we have a reputation to uphold. Your mother here borrowed five hundred thousand from us and owes us the money back with interest,” the younger guy says, and my jaw ticks.
Why in the hell would Mama borrow from a broker?
I eye the younger guy and ask, “You’re in charge, I’m guessing?”
He puffs his skinny chest out like a peacock and admits, “I took over from my father last year and brought in more revenue,” he smirks, “You’re finding yourself in front of the leader of the Hyena gang.”
I roll my eyes at the pathetic name that doesn’t even bring on fear, but I have heard of them and even encountered a few of their men. They normally keep out of the club’s way, so tying up an old lady as such is a big no-no, and they understand that and by the glare they gave Mama, she left that little bit of information out.
“Your dad can’t know,” my Mama croaks, and I look at her, our eyes connecting. She gives me a sad look and admits, “I found a lump a month after leaving your father, sweet girl…”
My heart stops, and my eyes race between hers.
I thought she was drained from the crap with Dad, I didn’t think…
Oh god….
“Cancer…” I choke and she nods once and admits, “My insurance didn’t cover the costs because I’d just started at the school and I couldn’t go to your brother or father, I’m so sorry Ivy.”
Her tears fall, and I look away.
She doesn’t want Dad to know or Venom to know. That is what she’s trying to tell me. She won’t go to them for help with the repayment for reasons I just don’t understand and I’ve grown up with the notion to respect her meaning I won’t go behind her back like I should, and the men are owed a substantial amount that they won’t walk away from, even with Mama being connected to the Dark Angels, an MC they are aware would destroy them, but also won’t allow them into their territory.
I swallow hard, look at the men, and admit, “I have roughly eighty thousand in my savings. Is there any chance we can make up a payment plan?”
The older guy looks at me with pity, knowing I’m reaching, while the younger guy looks me up and down and smirks.
“Actually, I have a better idea,” he mutters, his eyes on my breasts, and my stomach drops, and suddenly, facing Misty and Psycho seems like the better option.
Chapter 6
Psycho – A Week Later
I tap the pad before me, my eyes tracing Ivy’s face that I’ve been slowly drawing the past few years as the distant humming of tattoo guns gently soothes me, something that doesn’t last long, it never does.
Over a week without any contact with Ivy, and I feel like I’m drowning. I tried calling but she’s blocked me which just fucking hurts.
