Harlee
My dad. I don’t want to call him, but I know I must. There’s been a car tailing me since I left work. I’m not dumb enough to think that just because I cut him out of my life that it means his club doesn’t still put me at risk. I used to think my dad was the greatest man I knew. but then I found out that he cheated on my mom and had other kids besides me with women he called clubwhores. He said they were nothing to him, the women that is, but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that growing up I thought my parents had this awesome marriage, and they didn’t. Their marriage was a façade. A lie my father and mother created. My mom knew about the other women, said it was part of the life when you were married to an outlaw biker. But when she found out about the kids she killed herself. I will never forgive him for that.
Everything changed the moment I walked into the clubhouse looking for my dad. I needed some money for a new pair of shoes. If he would have just let me get a job, maybe I would have still been living the fantasy of the perfect father. I remember walking to the back office and the door was open, I didn’t think anything about knocking. I’d never knocked before, I was the princess here. When I walked in, I was in shock. There he was, my father, the man I thought was the best man in the world, fucking one of the club whores on his leather couch. I couldn’t believe it.
“What the fuck, daddy!” I screech. I grab anything I can get my hands on from his desk and start throwing the items at the couple on the couch. “How could you do this? To mom, to me?”
“Princess,” dad pleads as he moves off the cunt, pulling up his pants in the process.
I shudder at the sight, and pull my gun from the back of my jeans; dad taught me how to shoot. I’m almost a better shot than he is, so when he sees me point it at the skank he quickly moves from the couch and hides behind his desk. Fucking coward.
She starts screaming and begging for me to not pull the trigger, but I don’t care. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was married!” Bullshit, everyone in this fucking town knows he’s married. I shoot her, right in the chest, and watch the blood drain out of her. I don’t feel satisfied though. I’m not sure what I feel as her lifeless eyes stare back at me.
Movement at my back makes me aware that the rest of the club is probably watching me right now. Of course, his lackeys would come running at the sound of gunfire. Of course, they weren’t supposed to let me in without asking my father, but I guess he was too busy to be bothered. Someone’s head will roll for this but it won’t be mine.
“Come on, Princess, put the gun the down.” I hear Ash, the club’s enforcer, plead from behind me.
“Fuck that.” I swing my gun around and my gaze lands on my father. “I hate you, I hate you so much!” I scream and before I can fire the gun again, Ash grabs it from me. “Fuck you, Ash. I fucking hate you, all of you!”
“Princess, come on. Just talk to us, please.”
I push past him and storm out of the clubhouse. After that I never looked at my father the same way ever again.
That was the first and only time I ever killed someone. The moment I realized that the kids at school who always bullied me were actually my fucking siblings, I wanted to kill my dad even more. They were always told they weren’t allowed to say anything to me about our dad. They never even spent any time with him either, which made them resentful, hateful bastards who took their frustrations out on me. Whenever they would see me with my parents, all happy and smiling, the bullying was worse the next day at school. All of this was my dad’s fault. I was livid when I found out about his cheating, but the moment I found out about the other kids, I hated him more than anything. Spent the next eight months before my eighteenth birthday giving him the silent treatment. I knew it was killing him; I went from a daddy’s girl, to hating him more than anything in the world. Everything at home got worse once mom found out about those kids too; apparently that wasn’t part of the deal she had with dad. I didn’t get it. What did she think was gonna happen when he kept fucking other women? Her finding out led to extreme depression, and I found her in her bathtub, with her wrists slit. Losing her was hard. I felt as though I had lost both my parents. I almost broke and talked to my dad at the funeral, considering he was so upset. However, when I had to speak at the gravesite, I looked into his eyes, and very loudly said, ‘Mom’s death is Demon’s fault. He should be lying in that grave instead.’ Pain spread over his face in that moment, and he staggered slightly, almost falling at my words. I’ve never once called him anything other than dad or daddy, him hearing me call him Demon probably hurt more than saying he should be dead instead of mom. His pain made me happy. I wanted him to suffer.
Now here I am years later, on the road, on my way home from work, scared out of my mind that Demon did something, and now I’m the one who is caught in the fucking crossfire.
I am afraid to pull off anywhere. If whoever is following me has bad dealings with my dad they won’t hesitate in grabbing me or worse, killing me. I use the hands-free feature on my steering wheel that allows me to dial my dad without touching my phone.
“Harlee, is that you, Princess?” My dad’s hopeful voice answers. It’s almost as if he knew I would be calling.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m being followed,” I inform him.
He breathes heavily into the line and curses under his breath. “Are you sure?”
“Would I call you otherwise?” Even though it has been years since we have spoken, I know he keeps tabs on me. When I first moved away, he had a security detail on me but eventually they slacked off. I was thought I was doing good and feeling like maybe I was finally free of that whole biker lifestyle, but what they say is true—no one leaves and lives to tell about it. Why should I have thought I would be special.
“Guess not. What kind of car is it?”
“A black sedan. Blacked out windows. They are staying two cars back but they have been with me since I left work. I even took a few odd turns to be sure.” I was sure I was being paranoid, but when I took Circle Road and doubled back to my workplace and they were still behind me, I knew my suspicions were true.
“I know. I taught ya well.” He taught me a lot of things. I wish I could say most of them were good, but they weren’t. I thought he was really something, but it turned out he was a piece of shit polished up in chrome and leather.
“What do I do?” Years ago, I would have drove straight to the clubhouse and into the arms of his men. Men who loved and adored me. Men who swore they would always protect me, but they aren’t any better than he is. They all follow his rule and his way of life. I had thought one guy was different, but he proved to be even worse than my old man. Another lesson learned the hard way. Hard seems to be the only way I know.
“Let me think a minute. Goddamnit.”
He goes quiet.
“You still have your gun I gave you? Drive to the courthouse and park next to a police car.”
“Yes,” I hiss. After I shot the clubwhore, Ash took my gun and refused to give it back, until I was out of the clubhouse compound. I’m never without my gun.
I laugh without humor. “You want me to go the cops?”
“No, I want you to appear to. Park your car but don’t shut it off and do not get out. Lock your doors and have your gun close by just in case. I’m sending one of my men to get you.”
“Great.” I groan and want to protest but I know my dad will protect me. No matter the costs.
Pulling down my visor, I pretend to be checking my hair, but I am really scoping out my mirrors to see where that fucking tail went to.