Days after seeing Ryker and my head was still clouded by the recent memory of him. Why did he have to look so freaking good? His short black hair that brushed over the top of his ears, his muscular chest that had filled out over the years, and his dark black eyes that I still saw when I closed my eyes.
Damn him. Damn him for coming back to town. I wanted him gone.
He was messing with my head all over again, even though besides that one run-in, we hadn’t spoken. Not like I expected him to hunt me down and apologize for running out on me.
Or maybe I did. And the fact that he hadn’t? That he hadn’t tried to contact me despite the fact it’d be virtually impossible with Black Death watching my every move these days, it stung. It hurt.
I truly meant nothing to him. For years I hung onto the idea that Ryker would realize the mistake he made by running away. That he’d come back from the South, he’d beg for my forgiveness, and after being a bitch and giving him shit for leaving in the first place, I’d forgive him. We’d finish our happily ever after.
Now I was faced with the truth.
He didn’t love me.
Maybe he never had.
Emotions that had been so easy to keep buried were at the forefront of my mind since seeing Ryker’s scowl in the very entrance of Penny’s last week. I stared at the doorway, squinted my eyes, and pretended I could still see him standing there. Wishing I could ask the one question I had always wanted to ask.
Why did you leave me?
I remembered the night. The night I cried about my dad, my fear of my mom’s already shaky mental stability. The night he promised he’d do whatever he could to help my family despite my dad’s screw ups. And then I had heard nothing from him. Despite sending him hundreds of texts and voicemails over the course of the next few days, I heard no response.
Until one week later when I got the simple message: Not coming home. It’s over.
That was it. I could see the words stamped in my memory as if I was still staring at the screen on my phone. It’s over. It’s. Over.
And now, he was so close, yet still so far away. I couldn’t do anything except ask the questions over and over again in my head. What had I done wrong? Why wasn’t I enough? Why did he leave?
I slumped over the bar, thinking that pounding my head against the woodened bar sounded like a great idea. Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and fought against the memories, the loss, and the sadness that had crept into me and filled me so completely I hadn’t felt like I could survive. But my mom had needed me. She went practically catatonic after the Nordic Lords killed my dad. It was his own fault for even considering ratting out the club to the F.B.I. when the charges against him were false. He had caved.
My mother and I had paid the price. And then she had turned to Black Death for protection and to support her drug habit. In doing so, she had promised them the only thing Cain wanted.
Me.
She handed me to their club’s Vice President like I was her dowry. In return for my willingness to do whatever they wanted, they’d protect her. They’d supply her with drugs.
I should have hated her. I did hate her. But she was my mom, and under the hate was the realization that she was completely fucked in the head. Always had been, probably. She was also the only family I had left. I had no skills outside club life. No college education. No money. Nowhere to go.
So when she handed me to Cain, I went, even as much as I hated her for it. And when he chained me to a chair in his office at Penny’s, screwed me and licked me and finger-fucked me until my body finally began responding despite my best intentions to fight it, I wished my mom was dead.
I caved. With no options, I slowly began accepting my life and my place in it. It was never going to be good from the moment Ryker broke my heart. The most I had left was my own survival.
“Diamond.”
I slowly raised my head from my hands and glanced to the side. I sighed, seeing Cain at the end of the bar with a victorious look on his face. He knew this was killing me and he was excited that once again I was reminded about my place in the world.
“What is it, Cain?” I asked, pushing off the bar and facing him directly. He was a large man with broad shoulders, a butch haircut, and hazel eyes that never showed emotion. He had scars on his face and arms. The white lines stood out against the black ink on his forearms that I knew he’d had done during his multiple stints in the state prison.
He was big. He was mean. And he owned my ass until the day he decided I was worthless to him. By the look on his face, that day had not yet come.
“My office. We need to talk.”
I swallowed slowly. Sweat broke out against the back of my neck before I was out from behind the bar as I followed him. His office. A place where he’d kept me for weeks, for months, after he’d taken me. I hadn’t followed him into his office in years. There had been no need.
Whatever he had to tell me wouldn’t be good.
The first, cold tremors of fear hit me as I followed him down the dark and dreary back hallway. Pleasured moans of clients receiving some lunch hour benefits filled the thick and smoke-scented air.
“Sit.” He pointed to a plain metal chair in the corner as soon as we’d both entered the room. No way was I sitting in that chair with the handcuffs wrapped around the bottom chair legs. I knew exactly what waited for me in the chair.
I didn’t look at it. Instead, I kept my eyes on Cain’s, searching for anything that made sense about this. This was where he brought the new girls to see if they were any good. I had already proven that years ago.
My nose began to burn. “I’ll stand.” I cleared my throat, but it felt thick and dry. I tried swallowing, but I couldn’t get past the rock in my throat.
Cain arched an eyebrow. “You need a reminder on what happens when you disobey me?”
I didn’t. I remembered vividly and still had scars from his belt on my back. They began to sting at the very thought of them.
But screw him. Punishment would be worth it. I was so damn tired of submitting to these animals. Tired of getting pleasure from it when I wanted to bash their heads in.
I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly. “What do you want, Cain?”
His eyes glinted with pleasure. As if the thought of beating me—whipping me—filled him with ecstasy. Finally, he blinked and tossed me an envelope.
My hands flew out and caught it before it smacked me in the chest.
I scowled at it, wondering what was in it.
“You have an appointment tonight, near the casino.”
“Who?” I asked as I peeked inside the envelope. My finger fanned across the stack of money. Someone had paid for me up front—and paid well.
“Ryker.”
My heart fell to my feet. He paid for a night with me? I shook the question out of my head. “I…”
“You’ll go,” he stated and stepped behind his desk. Once he was seated, he propped his elbows on the desk top and tapped his fingers together. “Say your good-byes and get him out of town. I don’t need him back here distracting you.” He paused, and his standard, greasy smile appeared as his eyes roamed my body. “Consider this a gift. A thank you for all your hard work.”
The lump in my throat grew to epic proportions. Ryker treating me like the whore I was. Some gift.
He waved me off, but as my hand hit the doorknob to leave, Cain’s sick voice stilled every muscle in my body. Looking over my shoulder, I flinched at his warning glare.
“Don’t forget what happens if you don’t follow through.”
I nodded as I stepped into the darkened hallway. The warning was clear—I disobey and my mother dies.