The Soldiers of Wrath MC 1 Owned by the Bastard (7 page)

Those four hours passed so damn fast, she didn’t even feel like she’d been in bed long enough for it to count before the alarm was blaring back at her. She made her way toward the bathroom, washed her face and refreshed herself.

Within minutes she was outside at the reception.

“I don’t suppose I can organize a cab?”

The man behind the counter pushed the phone toward her. She glanced at the advertisement on the wall for a car company. Tapping her fingers on the counter, she waited twenty minutes for the vehicle to arrive. She thanked the man and left.

Once in the back of the car she watched the scenery go by. She’d already told the driver the address she wanted to go to. Deanna wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted.

What did she want?

“You okay there, sweetheart?” the driver asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re looking a little troubled. You’re not running from anything, are you?”

She gritted her teeth. The last thing she needed or wanted was a conversation about her troubles with a stranger. “Nothing. I’m good. I’ve just had a really bad night.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t pry any more. She rubbed her sweaty palms down her jean-covered thighs. The journey didn’t last long and she paid the cab driver, waving him off. She turned around and faced the house she’d come to hate. Her father was an asshole and her mother shouldn’t have asked her to take care of him. She loved her mother, always would, but loving this man was her biggest mistake. Tonight would be her last night of taking care of him.

She walked up to the door and raised her hand. Deanna heard the pleasured moans coming from inside, which set off her anger. He’d sold her off to a biker group and he was here having fucking fun. She didn’t think so.

Opening the door, she charged into the house. What she saw would be forever burned on her retinas but she didn’t turn away. She reached out, grabbing the woman’s hair and yanking her off her dad.

“Bitch, get the fuck off me.”

She threw the woman away from her.

“I’ve got to talk to my fucking father.” Deanna made sure she could see the woman in case she tried to attack.

“Deanna, what are you doing here?”

“You’re surprised to see me.”

“Demon and the boys wouldn’t have let you go.” Her father stood up from the sofa, tucking his cock back into his pants. She was sick to her stomach of this man. He was a vile person.

“They didn’t let me go. I got out, but not because of you.”

“You’ve got to go back. You’ve got to.”

“What’s going on?” the woman asked.

Deanna wasn’t interested in her. “Get the fuck out of here before I make sure you can’t suck cock with my fist in your fucking face.” She turned back to her father. “No, I don’t have to do shit. You used me to pay off your fucking debt.”

She couldn’t stop herself. Deanna threw herself at him, attacking her father. “You piece of shit.”

He must have been high, as she got a couple of hits in before he grabbed hold of her, stopping her from hurting him.

“You need to do this for me, Deanna. They’ll kill me.”

“Fuck you. You’re the one who can’t keep fucking clean. I’ve never touched drugs. I’ve not even gone out to party. After everything that happened with Mom, I’ve not had a life. I’ve been too busy trying to take care of your pathetic ass.” She was full-out shouting now. “You didn’t deserve her.”

She pulled away from him. Deanna saw the other woman was standing, opening and closing her fists. She didn’t care. There was no way she was going until she’d said everything that needed to be said.

“You’re going back to Demon.” Her father snatched his phone from the table.

Deanna grabbed the device out of his hand, launching it across the room. The cell phone shattered on the floor. She had no doubt Demon was already on his way looking for her, assuming she might be here.

“What the fuck have you done?” he asked, turning back to glare at her.

“I’m not helping you. You can find someone else to use but I’m not going to be payment for your actions. You’re a piece of shit and we’re done.”

She moved away from him, heading toward the door. This was the last chapter of this life.

“No, I don’t fucking think so.”

Her father grabbed her by her hair, pulling her back. Deanna screamed. Before she could stop him, he threw her on the floor. “I didn’t put up with years of shit to go down. You’re a fucking cunt and you’re going to do this for me.”

“Fuck you.”

Deanna didn’t know what happened, but in the next second his hands were wrapped around her neck, squeezing tight. She started to claw at his hands. She didn’t want to die but the crazed look in his eye let her know she was going to.

D
emon pulled his
Harley into the parking lot of the rundown piece of shit hovel that the junkie lived in. His boys were right behind him, and once they all shut off their engines the sound of breaking glass coming from in the house had him getting off his bike and moving toward the front door. He knew Deanna was in there, could feel it in his gut, and he always went with his instincts. His crew was close behind, their anger tangible, fierce, and so potent that it matched his. He didn’t knock, didn’t wait to see if someone would come to the door. Demon booted the fucking thing with his foot, cracked the door right off the hinges, and stormed inside. The place reeked of stale smoke, spilled booze, sweat, and raunchy fucking sex. He scanned the inside, didn’t see anything at first, and then heard a distinct sound of someone being choked.

Hell no.

This possessive side reared up inside of him, calling out the beasts that he reserved for killing men that crossed him or his club, or protecting what was his. Deanna might have been given to him as trade for payment owed, but she was his now, and he protected what he owned.

He rounded the corner, saw the junkie have his woman,
yes
, his fucking woman, in a chokehold, and he charged forward. The motherfucker glanced up, stared wide-eyed as Demon came forward, and let go of Deanna.

“I’m sorry, Demon. She came to me. I was about to call you to come pick her ass up—”

Demon didn’t let the fucker finish. He grabbed him by the neck, hauled the prick up and off the ground, and slammed his willowy, sickly body to the wall. “You thought you could hurt what is mine?” Demon roared out, and tightened his hold on the junkie’s neck. “You think you could put your fucking hands on her?” He was growing more enraged, more insane by the second.

The man’s face was starting to turn blue, but he didn’t loosen his hold, and in fact squeezed tighter. He started to gurgle out, and clawed at Demon’s hands. But Demon didn’t let up in strangling the bastard that thought to hurt Deanna. He saw red, thinking about her father’s hands on her neck, squeezing the life out of her, hurting her. No, Demon was going to be the one to take a life tonight, and that life was going to be this piece of shit.

“Demon…” Deanna said in a low, strained voice behind him.

He pushed everything else aside except for this one moment in time. He saw the way the junkie’s eyes rolled back in his head, how his body sagged forward and his arms dropped to his sides. Demon was going to kill this man, take his life, because it meant nothing to him. He had dared go after one of his own, and Demon was about to show him exactly why they were called The Soldiers of Wrath.

Deanna stared at
Demon as he held her father to the wall by his neck. Her father’s face was now this ghastly blue, and even though she called out for Demon to let him go, the biker ignored her. But Deanna didn’t even know why she was trying to stop this. Her father had ruined her life, brought her down, and this was what he deserved. But maybe she was trying to save his life because she was human.

There were a few other MC members that had followed Demon inside, but they were forming an almost barricade between her and Demon.

“Please, you’ll kill him. He deserves to live his life in the gutter, remembering the shitty things he has done.” But she didn’t truly believe that either.

Demon looked over at her, and his expression had her taking a step back. “You want this motherfucker to live, Deanna?” he growled out. “You want me to show him mercy when you weren’t shown any? He fucking turned you over to my crew, sold you off so he was free and clear.” Demon pulled her father off of the wall, still holding his neck, and then threw him across the room with so much force that Deanna gasped out. There was a sickening crunch as her father slammed into the wall, and then his lifeless body slumped to the floor.

The silence stretched out, and she looked at the bikers. Demon was by the wall, this dark, hard look on his face. The other bikers had smirks on their faces as they stared at her now dead father. Deanna looked at her dad again, but the sorrow and regret didn’t come. She took in the odd angle of his neck, at the way he stared at her with a lifeless gaze, and the only thing she felt was this hard hatred. It filled her, consumed every part of her, and then she broke down and started crying. It wasn’t from sadness, but from this relief that filled her. She should hate herself, loathe the way she was happy that she was free of the man that had dragged her down to the bowels of his hellish life.

But she was crying and happy, and when the tears dried she started laughing uncontrollably.

“She’s snapped, just fuckin’ snapped, prez,” one of the bikers said.

She threw her head back and laughed hard, not able to stop herself, and then she fell to the floor, landing on her hands and knees, and cried harder than she had ever cried in her life. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t control herself, and she knew that this was truly the beginning of the end.

“She’s in shock,” Demon said from right behind her now, and she looked over her shoulder at him. Her vision was blurry, her tears coming steadily. He got down on his haunches in front of her, lifted his hand, and she flinched away. He had just killed a man, and although she feared him because he was this hardened, dangerous biker, she also felt something else. He had protected her, went after the man—her father—that had been hurting her. She should hate him, loathe this fucking man and all he represented. But when he reached out and brushed her tears away, she found herself launching herself into his arms.

Yeah, Deanna was lost, fucking lost and insane, because she was finding solace and comfort in the arms of a murderer.

“C
lean this shit
up,” Demon said. He didn’t wait to see who stayed behind and who came with him. The only focus he had was on his woman, sobbing in his arms. He carried her out of the house toward his bike. Putting her on her feet, he gripped her face, forcing her to look back at him. “Deanna, look at me.” He gave her a little shake, not enough to shock her but just enough to get her attention. Tears spilled down her cheeks and seeing them filled his heart with grief. “You do not get to cry for him. That man was a bastard. Those tears are not allowed.” He wiped the tears away, wishing there was something he could do. Whatever happened there was no way he’d ever be able to let her go. She’d seen too much. Witnessing him murdering her father had cemented her future in his club. He couldn’t let her leave. The club wouldn’t allow him to.