I thrash, shaking violently from my sleep, jolting upright in the bed. Yet again, I’ve awaken from a nightmare starring the one and only Rafael Ramirez. Night after night I’m subjected to witnessing the same atrocious actions, all caused by the devil himself. Pain is asleep beside me and I swiftly get off the bed and exit my room. I walk out to the bar for my one saving grace – tequila.

I bend down and open up the cabinet, grab the neck of the bottle and unscrew the top, bringing it to my lips for a few long sips. It burns, landing heavy in my stomach, but the sting of the tequila is nothing like the sting of memories that refuse to stay buried. Memories that I no longer wish to remember. I don’t want to remember the sounds of my mother screaming as Rafael’s men stormed our house. Or the way that she begged Rafael not to take me and Camila, to take her instead. More importantly, I remember the look on my father’s face...how then I thought it was surprise...but now I know the truth. It wasn’t shock. It was expectation. He expected it to happen, and instead of getting us far away from Rafael’s grasps...he did nothing.

We were sitting ducks.

My mother was killed, my sister and I were taken and I can’t help but wonder...who should I be angry at? The man who pulled the trigger and ripped us out of our home, or the man who sat by and allowed it to happen. Where should my anger be directed towards? Who deserves all of my anger?

Some days my anger is all that I have, it’s all that I am. I’ve held onto it for years and I wonder if I will ever really be free of it. Finding out the truth, that my father...traded us for his own freedom only fuels the fire. It makes my blood boil and my skin burn with hatred. I never thought I could hate my father, but I also never thought that he could ever do something like this. Granted, the results of his actions could have been worse. I’m lucky. Lucky to have ended up here with the Skulls. But I lost my sister for so long, and I’ve only recently found out where she is. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see her again, wrap my hands around and hold her close, and that kills me. We have spent so long apart. I bet she’s changed so much over the years. If she hasn’t in her looks then I know she has emotionally. We were both very different girls when we were living at home in Mexico. We were sheltered from just how evil this world actually is. We had no idea, but and because of our father, we were quickly thrown into the depths of hell.

I look around the clubhouse, seeing Trick on the couch, staring right at me. I walk over to sit on the opposite couch, making myself comfortable with my tequila in hand.

“If you’re going to lecture me, don’t bother.” I grumble out at him.

He runs his hand over his beard and chuckles. “No. I was gonna tell you to share that shit. I haven’t had a decent shot of tequila in years.”

I stand up, cross the few feet between us and hand the bottle over to him. He throws his head back, and holding the bottle high, pours a double straight into his mouth. He swallows and hands it back to me. “What’s eating at you? We all know what tequila is for: drowning sorrows or hiding. Which is it for you?”

I take a swig, and shrug. “Hiding I guess.”

“What could a girl like you be hiding from?” Trick doesn’t know the half of it. He wasn’t around when I arrived.

I can choose to be lighthearted- make a joke even, but I won’t. “I’m hiding from the truth.”

The biker before me looks older than his years. Not in an entirely bad way. His face shows he’s lived through a lot and I don’t really think that much of it was good.

“I’ve been there buttercup, and one piece of advice I can give you is that no matter what, the truth will always be there. Coping with it sure as fuck isn’t easy, but drinking away your pain can only lasts for so long. Trust me, I did my time.”

“What was your poison?”

He doesn’t even blink as I ask. “Bourbon.”

“Good choice, but tequila is better,” I say with a wry smile.  

“Depends on the night, and what you’re hiding from. Bourbon did the trick for me. Tequila was always a good backup.”

I nod, understanding.

“What truth were you hiding from?” I ask Trick, twirling the bottle of tequila back and forth in my hand.

He laughs, laugh and I can tell that this makes him uncomfortable. I can see the confirmation when I look in his eyes. Trick drops his gaze. “I was hiding from myself, sweetheart. From all the things I had done, all the people I had hurt. When I was young...let’s just say I fucked up a bit.”

I take the tequila and give myself another shot, passing the bottle back to Trick. “No one is perfect, we may try to be, but no one is. We all fuck up.”

“Yeah, we do, but not as much as I have.”

The two of us sit in complete silence for a few minutes before I muster up the courage to speak. I know that if I don’t say it now, I’ll keep holding it in, and all of the anger that comes along with it. “I found out that my father bargained his own safety over mine and my sister’s. The one man who is supposed to protect us, fed us to a piranha in bloody water.”

“Sounds like you have a shitty Dad.” He’s right. I do have a shitty Dad. I just never knew it was too late. I lean my head back and stare up at the ceiling, losing myself in my dark thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” Trick asks.

“I’m just wondering what I will do to him when I see him.”

“Do you want to see him?” Trick’s question is valid. Why would I want to see him after finding out he betrayed Camila and me?

“I want to look him in the eyes and find out why he handed us over on a silver platter. I deserve those answers, and then...”

“Then?” He questions.

“Then I don’t know what I’ll do. I haven’t made up my mind yet. All I know is that I will see my father again, and I will ask him why.” As I reposition myself, I see Trick nod. He may not know my entire story, but he understands.  “How is Angel?”

“Seems to be fine. Checked in on her a little bit ago, and she’s gonna hate me tomorrow. Fuck...” He wipes his hand across his face. “She’s going to hate me for a long time, until the day she’s clean.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t understand what he means. I know that Angel has had a rough past with drugs, but I don’t see how she could hate him so quickly.

His eyebrows shoot up before he speaks, “I may have tied her hands and legs to the bed, so there’s no way in hell she can dart out here before that poison is out of her system.”

“You tied her up!?”

Trick gives me a knowing look, almost like I should have expected him to go to this extreme. “She’s been on drugs for years, sweetheart. I wasn’t fuckin’ around earlier when I told your boyfriend that Angel is my girl. She’s my property, my ol’lady, and finally my responsibility. It’s my job to look out for her and make sure that she gets clean, that she stays safe. Maybe when all of this is said and done, me and Angel can be something. She’s the type of woman to keep me on my toes and I need that. It doesn’t hurt that she’s a looker either, you know.” He smirks at the end, and in this moment I realize that this is something Trick wants.

He doesn’t just want to help her.

He wants her.

I already like this man, and this warms my heart to him a little more. When Angel gets clean I hope that she will consider being with him. Lord knows she doesn’t understand our life, and I highly doubt she will be okay with suddenly having an instant a husband....but at the end of the day she doesn’t have a choice. She belongs to Trick whether she wants to or not.