“It won’t be forever, I promise.” She slides off the back of my bike. We exchanged numbers earlier today when she texted Aly to let her know I’d be taking her home, which is a good thing because her friend ended up staying with Merle last night and went home early this morning before Valentina was ready to leave.
“Nope, it sure won’t be.” My lips seek hers. I‘m not going hot and heavy like I want, not in a neighborhood like this where you know people’s faces are stuck to the windows, watching the entire scene play out.
“I’ll call you later.” We end the kiss.
“Stayin’ here until you make it inside, gorgeous.” It’s the least I can do while staying out of cop dickhead’s sight.
“Alright.” She squeezes my hand in reassurance, like I’m the one walking into a house that’s full of toxicity times a million. I do as I promise, watching her the entire fuckin’ time, the gentle sway of her hips, the hoodie that’s two times too big for her that I found buried in the closet in my camper. I knew since the weather is only getting colder later in the day, she’d need something to ward of the chill from the setting sun and wind. The small wave she gives me as she takes the stairs leading up to her door has me grinning. I twist the throttle, wait till the door is open and she’s securely inside before I leave my spot. It’s time to head back to the clubhouse and have a meeting.
10
VALENTINA
“You’re a slut, just like your mother was.” Those are the words I’m greeted with when I walk in the door. Thinking I was in the clear was dumb on my part. My father is sitting in his recliner, rocking back and forth, a handle of alcohol sitting next to him on the end table, along with a government-issued nine-millimeter pistol. The last time he had it out, he was cleaning it. I was late getting home from work after dealing with new hires for the holiday season, and he made a comment about me whoring around. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. So, seeing it out again sends shivers down my spine, and not in the way Corey did just hours ago.
If I’d known he was home, I would have walked right back to Corey and ridden off into the sunset with him.
Instead, I walk away and head towards my room, needing to get some sleep before being at work by five o’clock in the morning.
“You hear me, girl? You’re a slut. Always ready to fuck some gutter trash while I work my ass off and provide a roof over your head.” It’s rare that he ever talks about Mom, especially in the manner he’s talking about her now.
“I hear you,” I say in a lower tone, not ready to deal with his rage.
“Good, then you know if you come back to this house on the back of a bike again, I’ll kill him and make you watch.” The creaking of his recliner tells me he’s about to get up, and there’s no telling what he’ll do. I move my ass as fast as possible without making it look like I’m running and realize I’m now going to have cut ties with Corey. There’s no way I can attempt to start a relationship when I have this much baggage dragging me down.
“You better fucking run.” His laugh is maniacal. I may not run but choose to power walk instead, getting to my room in seconds and locking the door. Then I do one better and use all of my weight to push and pull the dresser, attempting not to make any noise in fear that the man who once was someone amazing, who has now turned into a raging psychopath, can’t do anything to me in the middle of the night. It takes a good twenty minutes and has me drenched with sweat, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be taking a shower anytime soon, even though there’s a bathroom attached to my room. There’s no damn way. This is beyond the worst he’s ever been. I’ll wait till he’s passed out asleep, then take a shower, sit in my chair, and when he leaves for work in the morning, pack up my belongings. I’d rather sleep in my car, a women’s shelter, or on a park bench. Anywhere except under this roof. It may have been my childhood home, and my mother may have loved him and this house, but one thing is for sure: there’s no way I’ll put myself through another abusive relationship, even if it is with my own family.
11
BULLET
“Bullet, can I get a word?” Shovel walks out to where I’m standing at the bar, guzzling a beer down in three gulps. After I dropped Valentina off already knowing she was walking into a world filled with hell, I came back to the clubhouse and worked out for a couple of hours trying to get rid of the anger that’s consuming my body.