I go over them in my head, nope, not broken any of those. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I manage to cough out, my voice croaky.
I hear bikes in the distance and I start to panic, he must not hear them in the fog of his anger as drags me up by my hair and looks me in the eyes. “I’m talking about you whoring yourself out to the little prince of the King’s Disciples! Did you honestly think you’d get away with it under MY roof! Get out of my house!”
I steel myself as he drags me through the front door and I come face to face with my Uncle Merl. He has a knowing look on his face and I notice the gash on his face from yesterday is all stitched up.
“Well, well, well. The cat’s out the bag then.” He smirks at me and then turns to my dad, the smirk gone and a serious expression on his face. “Tank, all the brothers are calling an emergency church in light of… the news,” he spits out, as if I don’t mean anything.
I glare at him. “You, you did this!”
I slip from my dad’s grip and hurl myself at my sadistic Uncle, clawing at him because I’m so angry that he’s done this. I stop as I remember his words from yesterday.
“You’ll fuckin’ pay for that… You’ve just dug your own grave, sweet girl.”
My brief stop in assault gives him the upper hand and he floors me, crushing my body to the sidewalk as he lies across the top of me.
“If you’d have just done this the right way last night, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this mess, sweet girl,” he whispers into my ear, and I cry out in pain as he twists my wrists the wrong way.
“Enough!” My dad shouts and a small sliver of hope creeps into me, but is instantly put out when I look up into his face. “Church can wait, I’m the president of this club and she’s my daughter! I decide what happens to her!” He booms out, and pushes my uncle off me.
I get up onto my knees and try to rub the pain out of my wrists.
“Tank you need-”
“I said enough!” Dad shouts and I cower. “Merl. I’d like to speak to my daughter... alone.”
“This is bullshit, Daryl, and you know it. She shouldn’t be getting special treatment just ‘cause she’s the Pres’ daughter!”
He whirls around, his fist connecting with my Uncle’s face , giving off a sickening thud. He stumbles back clutching his face and directs his anger at me.
“You’ll pay for that,” he murmurs under his breath menacingly, and walks toward his bike.
It’s then that I notice we have an audience, all the families connected to the club live on our street so the display we’re making is nothing to them, they’re just there to watch this all play out.
I look at my dad, pleading with my eyes for him to believe me. “Daddy, please. Whatever he’s told you isn’t true! I haven’t had a boyfriend or even a fling in two years.”
He raises his hand, palm facing me. “Shut it, Keeley. You’re just digging yourself a bigger hole! If this goes to the club vote, you know they’re going to be gunnin’ for your head! My hands are tied, I can’t believe you’ve put me in this position, I’ll be surprised if they keep me on as Pres! Fuck!” He shouts and hits the wall of the house before bending down and pulling me up by my elbow.
“Is that all you care about? Keeping a fucking title!” I shout, tears streaming down my face.
He looks behind me and I spin around, coming face to face with a guy I’ve known all my life, the guy who’s always been my safety net. I run up to him.
“Hunter, you need to tell him. Tell him I wouldn’t sleep with a rival club,” I plead.
He doesn’t look down at me or acknowledge me, he just nods at my dad and catches the duffle that is thrown to him, grabbing my upper arm roughly and dragging me toward his bike, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m shell shocked. I can’t believe he’s siding with them.
“Get the fuck off me!” I yell, and hit out at him.
He ignores me and lifts me onto his bike effortlessly, holding me down as he sits behind me and starts to ride.
“Where the fuck are you taking me?” I scream against the wind.
We eventually pull up to an old car garage and I’m more confused than ever.
“Hunter! You need to tell me what the fuck is going on, right now!” I scream.
“Follow me.”
Follow him? That’s all he has to say?
My head is spinning, half an hour ago I was driving home in my car, and now I feel like I’m on the run. I want answers so I follow him into the lot. He scans the cars one by one and calls over a salesman.
“Afternoon, can I help you?” A man around fifty asks, eyeing me up warily.
I must look like a domestic violence victim and I consider asking him for help, but the look that Hunter fires at me makes me keep my mouth shut.
“Yeah, I need a car in perfect working order and it needs to be ready to leave right away,” he answers him with authority in his voice.
“Err, sure, we have the-”
“I don’t care what car it is, it just needs to be ready to go now,” he says between gritted teeth.