I grabbed his hand, tightened my fingers around his, and whispered, “I believe you.”
They’d all come to me. All four of them, well, five if you counted Ryan too. All of them apologizing, all of them saying that it wouldn’t happen again, and I knew why…
They were terrified I’d leave.
Terrified I’d pull up roots and take myself, Amaryllis, and this baby in my belly away from them. Away from the MC, from the brothers who still weren’t sure whether they could trust me or not even though I’d brought millions into the coffers with the guns that Ryan had designed. Away from the Rebels’ enemies.
My phone buzzed, breaking into my thoughts. I reached for it in my jeans pocket, and seeing Martin’s name, frowned.
“That your dad?”
“Yeah.” I connected the call—not because we were friends now, but because if I didn’t, shit had a habit of happening. Not bad shit, just weird shit. Like I’d get a bouquet of amaryllises or he’d send me a box of sweets that he knew were my favorite. That he was watching me was always the message behind them, and yeah, it was creepy, but he was the Prez of an MC who had been given the nickname Lucifer… There wasn’t much creepier shit around.
“You need me to come get you?”
Behind me, Wolfe tensed.
“No.”
“They didn’t keep her safe.”
I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose. “If you’re only just hearing about this, then neither could your guys.”
Silence fell at my words, and I knew I was on point.
Wolfe too, because he snorted.
“Is the bastard dead?”
“What do you think?” I scoffed. Hell, the second Flame had gotten his hands on him, it was a wonder there’d been anything left to feed to the pigs.
My man was currently retrieving Jodie-May on my behalf, because I wanted to slit her throat myself. He’d promised me that, had promised me I’d be able to end the bitch who’d poisoned a decent kid against us, who’d made a martyr out of the fucker’s scumbag father. Aaron had been normal before he’d left, but she’d obviously poisoned his mind, twisted it until we looked like the bad guys, and the second he was old enough, he’d come to get his revenge for a fucker who didn’t deserve anything but for someone to piss on his grave—if he’d had one, of course. The pigs had fed well on his body, after all.
Like father, like son.
I had less than twelve hours to wait. Twelve hours before I could kill the piece of shit mother who’d ruined two kids’ lives—my baby’s and Aaron’s. I wasn’t completely enraged that I couldn’t see the woods for the trees.
Not long, I told myself. I’ll make her pay.
Make her bleed, baby, Ryan whispered in my mind, firing me up, doubling down my resolve. Amaryllis will be all right. I’ll never let you down again.
Martin sighed, and the noise billowed into my thoughts. “I’m sorry. How’s she doing?”
That was probably the most normal question he could have asked me. “Bad. Nightmares. Lots of them. He didn’t hurt her, not like that, he just scared her, but—”
“That’s bad enough,” Martin rasped.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. She’s so young, and we’ve kept her away from the club as much as we can. She didn’t know—” My mouth quivered with tears that ached to fall. “She wasn’t like me. I knew too much. Now she does as well.”
Wolfe’s hand pressed into my stomach, and the warmth of his palm, the heat of him along my back, had me sighing and relaxing into him again.
No, everything was not right with my world, but I wasn’t a princess in a fairy tale. I was an MC princess, and that shit came with blood, death, and enemies.
The second Jodie-May was back here, I’d show her exactly who I was.
My name was Lucifer, and I was a fallen angel in the flesh, with demons who’d do my bidding.
She’d crossed the wrong person, had fucked with the wrong family. I’d been content to let Wolfe be Prez, had been happy to let him rule the MC, and that wasn’t going to change too much, but this had forged me.
Anyone who got in the way of my family’s safety, who fucked with their happiness?
They weren’t going to walk on this earth for much longer.
Today was Jodie-May’s day to die, and while she wasn’t my first, I knew she wouldn’t be my last.
This was a hard, cruel world, but I was done sitting back, and letting my men do the dirty work.
If anyone, and I meant anyone, hurt my baby girl, this baby in my belly, or my men? They’d have me to answer to.
And that was a fucking promise.
Amaryllis
Six years later
Dying. I was dying.
A moan escaped me, and though the noise was soft, my eyes flared wide open as I realized I was dreaming.
Thank God.
As always, I was dreaming.
I wasn’t back in that dirty house. Wasn’t locked away, hidden from my parents, my family, everyone who loved me.
I was home.
I wasn’t twelve anymore. I was eighteen.
Those days were gone, behind me.
As I turned my head, rolling it on the sweat-stained pillow beneath me, I heard a noise from below and recognized that I was in the clubhouse.
What the hell was I doing here?
Rubbing my eyes that were wet with tears, I heard the slight snore to my left and tensed.
I was with someone?
Doing a quick check of my body, I frowned when I recognized that I was fully dressed—my jeans were still on, and I had a hoodie over me. That was why I was hotter than usual. I normally wore a cotton nightie to bed, but I was dressed like I’d been on a ride—
Wait.
I had.
I’d been with Ink, Saint, and Keys today. I’d been safe, so why the fuck had I awoken with that bad dream?
A glaring light shone through the window, illuminating the face beside me.
Ink.
Eighteen years older than me.
Seriously sexy with it, but more than that, my savior.
I released a shaky breath because, the second I saw him, I knew I was safe.
Safe.
Well, everything but my heart.
But that was another story altogether, and if I had my way, that story would be coming soon enough.
II
No Saint
13
Amaryllis
Everything smelled bad.
So bad.
It was like that time Lawrence, Jamie, and I had gone into the stables and found a dead cat. I’d cried when I’d seen it, had been terrified it was my cat, and when Jamie had pointed out that Jezzy was all black with no white socks, I’d been relieved but just as sad.
There were flies all over the small body, and lots of crawly things that, even in this place, still made me want to barf all over everything.
But that was how it smelled here.
Like heat and dirt, death and decay.
I’d been raised in an MC. I knew about some of the darker stuff in life. My daddies rode bikes and my mom called herself Queen Bitch when she thought I couldn’t hear, and they were nothing like the girls in my class’ parents.