“What did I do wrong?”
She sniffled, upset that nothing was working. Every night Ugly Beast arrived home, she had no choice but to order takeout. He didn’t offer to take her to his club, and she didn’t ask to go.
Since her little meltdown, she had tried to keep her distance. He’d also not tried to sleep with her.
“Can’t cook. Can’t socialize. I can’t even keep him happy in the bedroom.” The only thing he had complimented was her ability to clean. She could make a room sparkle, that was for sure.
Raven hadn’t been by to see her in the past week. She figured that had something to do with Ugly Beast being with her. Since their trip to the bar, she hadn’t really been alone. When he got the call a few hours ago, he looked unsure to leave her here. She didn’t mind being left here.
She wasn’t going to burn his house down.
The bird had caught fire. Pressing her hands to her face, she tried to breathe, but it was no good.
Picking up the oven tray, she let out a gasp, as the pan was also too hot.
Just as she was about to use the oven gloves, there was a knock at the door.
If it was Ugly Beast, he’d walk on in. Even Raven didn’t wait for the door to be opened. Nursing her burning hand, she walked toward the door, and when she saw her father on the other side, she panicked.
He was waiting for her to answer, and she’d not been quiet about approaching the door. He could probably hear her from the other side.
“Stop being a baby, Abriana. Open the fucking door.”
She didn’t cry.
Opening the door, she cried out as he shoved it open, taking her by surprise. The force of him opening it caused her to collide with the wall.
Falling to the floor, she gasped as her father’s fingers suddenly went around her neck, pulling her up from the floor.
She grabbed his arm, stopping him, but he’d cut off her air supply and panic flooded her. She hadn’t been this afraid in what felt like a lifetime.
Ugly Beast didn’t raise his hand to her, or make her scared.
Sure, he had this scary look, but that was when he was deep in thought. She also knew her husband had nightmares. She heard him cry out at night, and minutes later he’d go downstairs to have a drink. She had tried to talk to him the first time, but he told her to go to bed and not to come to him when he did cry out.
She left him alone. There was no point in disturbing him or disobeying him.
Abriana started to see stars, and her father finally released her.
She collapsed to the floor with a gasp, one hand holding the floor as the other went to her neck.
“Well, well, well, I see you think you’re free here. I should have known the ugly bastard wouldn’t know how to deal with you.”
She braced for the kick that didn’t come. She squeezed her eyes tight and whimpered as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Look at me, whore,” Gable said.
Opening her eyes, she was still taking deep breaths.
“You need to remember you’re a Vigo, and that means your loyalty runs to Garofalo.”
“Ugly Beast—”
He slapped her face, silencing her.
Her hands shook, and tears sprang to her eyes at the explosion of pain. She hadn’t missed this. Hadn’t missed anything about her old life.
She would take feeling out of place rather than being back under his rule.
You never really left it.
You’re at his mercy now.
He could kill you.
“We want to know everything,” Gable said. “We want to know what move they’re going to make. If you have to, fuck the entire club to find out what moves they’re making.”
She flinched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.
“You will call me the moment you know of anything. Do not think for a second that because you wear that pig’s ring, you are free. You will never be free. You are my blood, and I will find you, Abriana. I will make you suffer.”
“What do I say if he asks about my face?” she asked.
“You’re fucking ugly. Bruises make it an improvement.” Gable stood up. “Do not disappoint me.”
With that, he was gone.
The phone was in her hand.
If she wasn’t loyal to her father and to Garofalo, they would kill her. If she wasn’t loyal to Ugly Beast and the Hell’s Bastards, they would kill her?
Sitting with her back against the wall, she stared down at the phone.
She didn’t want this.
Tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t stop the sobs. She hated being weak. This was what she was. This was what her family had made her.
She was weak. Useless. Not worthy of being part of them.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before the door opened.