Micah stood close to my side at the stove, watching as I stirred a handful of basil leaves into the homemade marinara. “Why does he keep making you make this?”
A shiver passed over my spine and I blinked away the image I’d been seeing of King’s blood. I knew why he was doing it. He hated me, for some reason. He wanted me to suffer. Instead of raping me or beating me, he forced me into a prison of memories.
As if on cue, an old Elvis song started playing in the main room. Elvis had been King’s favorite, and his namesake. He’d played it all the time. Raptor liked to torment me. The sauce, the music, the constant supervision, it was all a game to him.
It’d been two months since he’d taken over the club and he was showing no signs of letting up. The brothers in the club were complaining about how often they ate the sauce, but there was nothing they could do. Raptor wasn’t running a democracy. He made that clear daily.
“He must really like it.”
Micah rolled his eyes at me. “You’re a bad liar, Cammie.”
I raked my knuckles across the top of his head and blew a raspberry at him. “We’re making extra stuff this time, too. Homemade breadsticks and even a big cake. That’s exciting, at least.”
“Nothing is exciting here, anymore.” His voice turned sad and he took the spoon from me to stir. The big pot was almost too big for his short stature.
My heart ached for him even more than it did for myself. He should’ve run. I should’ve just told him to leave, no matter what. I’d been selfish in telling him only to run if he saw a bad sign. I’d thought that if I was imagining everything and nothing was wrong, I’d want him back at my side. I loved the kid. I cared so much for him. But I should’ve told him to run, no matter what. He would’ve been taken care of. He would’ve been set.
Instead, he was stuck at my side at all times because he was terrified of Raptor. He no longer got ignored. If Raptor caught him, he wanted to poke fun and laugh at the kid. He was a bully and a loser.
I glanced over at Coke, who was standing in front of the back door with a nasty look on his face. His eyes roamed to my chest and he licked his lips.
I jerked my gaze back to the stove and opened the oven door allow more heat into the kitchen. I had the bread proofing on the counter and it was so cold in the clubhouse that I worried that it wouldn’t proof correctly. Raptor believed in keeping the air at sixty. Said he liked when the club sluts constantly had hard nipples.
I worked to keep my face serene and blew out a deep breath.
“We’ll get out. Just hang in there with me, Micah.” My whispered words would never reach Coke’s ears, but I was sure to point to the pot, like I was talking about it.
He looked up at me and chewed on his lip. It was getting to him, too. He was a kid. He needed things. He needed to learn, to play, to run.
I cupped his cheek in my hand and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll figure it out.”
He sniffed and turned away from me. “I’ll check on the cake.”
I smiled to myself and watched as he stuck his head in the freezer. The layers of cake were iced and were setting before I decorated it. It was fine, the same way it’d been fine the last time he checked on it.
I reached into the cabinet and scooted the flour over to remove the mini version of the cake I’d baked. I pulled it from the bag and was turning to hand it to him when Raptor strode into the kitchen.
“Don’t mind if I do.” He took the cake from my hand and shoved it into his mouth, grinning at me as he did. Crumbs fell to the floor and he crushed them into the tile before laughing and crossing to stand just behind Micah. “Well, if it isn’t the little fairy boy.”
I dropped the spoon and turned to fully face Raptor. “Is there something you need?”
His grin fell. “You act as if I’m not allowed in my own kitchen.”
I met his scowl with one of my own, angry and tired of him. “Why be in a kitchen if you can’t do anything in one?”
Coke suddenly appeared beside me and grabbed a handful of my hair. “Show your president some respect, bitch. Hasn’t he been nice to you?”
Micah cried out and tried to come to my aid, but Raptor slapped him hard across the face and shoved him into the countertop.
I screamed at Raptor to stop and watched in horror as he grabbed Micah by the throat and lifted him from his feet. “Stop! Stop it!”
Raptor looked back at me and his easy grin was back. “I need you to get dressed up for the party tonight.”
I nodded, despite Coke’s grip on my hair. “Fine! Just let him go!”
He dropped Micah and then grabbed his face. “You’re only here because the bitch wouldn’t cook for us if anything happened to you. You’re not Wolves material and you never will be. You’re nothing. Just a piece of trash some slut left behind when she ran off.”
“Enough! Leave him alone, Raptor. I said I’d dress up.”
Coke shoved my body into the stove and pressed into my backside. I had to fight to keep my stomach from pressing into the red-hot pot. “You keep talking back and I’ll make you pay for it.”
“Go with her to make sure she does what Monica says. The piss-ant can stay here and watch the food.”
I looked back at Micah as Coke dragged me out of the room. I could see that he was okay, just shaken. I mouthed to him that it’d be okay, but he just turned and leaned over the counter. I could see his shoulders shaking and I wanted to go to him and comfort him. He didn’t deserve what was happening to him. I had to get him out of the club. I had to.
Monica was waiting for me in my room upstairs. She was one of the old ladies in the club, initiated in and settled down with one of the older members. She was a few years younger than me but looked old enough to have deep wrinkles in her skin. Tanner than any human should ever be, her eyes were heavily made up and she had enough skin showing to stop traffic.
“Sit down. I’m going to do your makeup first.”
Coke slammed the door shut behind him and stood there, watching me. My room wasn’t big enough for the three of us but he didn’t seem inclined to step out.
I sat down on the edge of my bed and let her do what she wanted. I knew her reputation. She could be just as mean as Raptor. I didn’t put it past her to stab a makeup brush through my eye.
She applied all kinds of stuff to my face, watching me with a critical eye as she did. “You’re prettier without all this shit, and isn’t that just a bitch.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks.”
“Look up.” She came at my eye with a mascara wand and applied it with a steady hand. “I wasn’t complimenting you. You already think you’re better than me, so why should I bother? I was just stating the unfair fact.”
I waited until she finished my other eye and shook my head. “I don’t think I’m better than you, Monica.”
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Oh, please. You hide away in that pristine kitchen that King built around you and never lower yourself to come anywhere near us girls. The rest of us came into this club the old-fashioned way. We had to deal with a lot of shit to get where we are and you still have it better than us. Not for long, though.”
Ignoring the rest of her talk, I focused on the part that made my stomach drop. “What do you mean?”
She laughed a nasty laugh while ripping the ponytail holder out of my hair. “We all heard that Raptor is going to trade”
“Mind your fuckin business, Monica, or I’ll tell Hank what a nosy bitch you’re being. I’m sure he’d just love a reason to beat the hell out of you.” Coke barked from his position and then shook his head. “The bitch will find out what’s in store for her soon enough.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. My body broke out in hot tingles that seemed to cascade down my scalp and back like running water. I had to bite my tongue hard in the hopes that I wouldn’t start screaming at Coke to tell me what was happening.
I’d never had to get dressed up for a party before. I never went into the main room of the clubhouse when they were partying. It wasn’t my scene. I stayed hidden.
She was rough with my hair, tugging it until I winced and she made a face that oddly resembled a snake hissing. Her brush caught on tangles in my hair and she ripped it through, uncaring of the strands of hair that ripped out. Then, she got a curling iron ready and started the long process of curling my naturally straight hair.
I sat there, thinking and overthinking what was going to happen to me. The two months since King’s death hadn’t been great, but I’d been left untouched. I didn’t know why. I’d imagined being ravaged as soon as King’s blood was mopped up, but no one came to my bed.
I’d been watched and followed until I felt like I was going crazy, but no one touched me, except Coke, and he never took it too far. They even followed me into the bathroom, sometimes watching me through the gap in the shower curtain that wouldn’t close completely, but I was left alone.
I had a feeling that was about to change. Why else would they be dolling me up like one of the women they called the club sluts?
Satisfied with my hair, Monica pointed to the clothes behind me on my bed and put her hands on her hips. “Get dressed.”
I looked back at them and then back at her. “That’s not clothing.”
Her hand landed across my face and then she shrieked as Coke grabbed her by the back of her head and threw open the door. He shoved her through it and then used the bottom of his dirty boot to kick her farther from his sight.
“You know what she’s got tonight. You fuck up her face and Raptor will fuck up yours.”
My heart ratcheted up even higher and I swallowed the blood from a busted bottom lip. It didn’t hurt. I’d gotten used to taking harder blows than that when I was younger. She’d have to try a lot harder if she really wanted to hurt me.
Coke slammed the door shut and glared at me. “Get fucking dressed.”
I turned my back to him and slipped my arms out of the shirt I’d been wearing. I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, feeling goosebumps break out over my skin at the feeling of being watched by Coke’s beady eyes. Him watching me dress wasn’t a new thing, but things were changing and I felt the danger increasing by the second.
I hooked my fingers in the sides of the long skirt I wore and started to push it down when Coke’s arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my side. He pressed his lips into my hair and groaned as he ground his body against mine.
“I’ll miss watching this sweet body of yours, Cammie. It won’t be the same without you.” He brought his hand up and painfully squeezed my breast. “It’s for the best, though. Not being able to fuck that pouty mouth of yours has been torture. Better that you’re gone.”
I was frozen in fear, refusing to react or move. Predators like him seemed to like it when women fought back. His words were also pulsing through my brain like a hundred bullets, shattering everything.
Raptor wouldn’t let me go. You didn’t watch someone every day for months and then suddenly set them free. He was giving me to someone else. Someone who probably wouldn’t avoid touching me. Visions of the initiations I’d caught glimpses of flashed through my brain and I gasped as terror ignited my body. I had to get away.
Coke moved away from me and watched as I hurriedly pulled on the outfit they’d picked for me. A leather one-piece, cut high on the sides, with the back and most of the front missing, I was exposed in a way that made me feel more naked than when I was actually naked in front of Coke. Thin straps of material hid my chest and disappeared between my ass cheeks. It was barely anything at all. There were a pair of tall boots and ripped up jean shorts that would barely cover more than the one-piece did.
I pulled on both and stood up, facing Coke. “I need to check on the food.”
He whistled as he looked at me and nodded. “You’re going to make some man so fucking happy, bitch.”
I let a sense of self-preservation kick in that filled my body with adrenaline and slowed down the world around me. Spending a few years on the streets as a kid had taught me well. I could escape. I could save Micah and myself. I just had to find a way out.