She’s still screaming for Reaper as West gets to her, telling her to shut the fuck up and speak slowly, but she refuses to talk to anyone but Reaper.
“Get my old man, tell him to meet us in church.” I nod, going to Reaper’s office and pushing open the door. His eyes turn straight to mine.
“Looks like someone laid into Rhonda. She’ll only speak to you. West’s taken her to church.”
Reaper curses. “That fucking woman will be the death of me. If that boy didn’t love her so much, I would have put a bullet in her head years ago,” he growls, stomping past me. I follow him down the corridor, and he pushes the doors to church open. As soon as he steps in, Rhonda flings herself against his chest, sobbing. I lift my brow to West, who shakes his head, running a hand over his jaw.
“Speak fucking straight, woman.” Reaper shakes her as she sniffles.
“She wanted to get away. I thought if I took her out for an hour—” She hiccups again, before her eyes turn to me. “It’s all your fault!”
West and Reaper both look at me, and I shrug. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Her eyes narrow. “She’s not used to this life!” It’s like she lit a match and I am the fucking dynamite as her eyes turn to West. “I am sorry. I thought I was helping.”
The rest of the words blur together.
I feel it, everything in me changing, the darkness I have always worn growing thicker. The man I am is fading as the beast inside of me growls.
All three turn toward me. Rhonda gasps, taking a step back.
“Who?”
West has his piece out, his eyes on mine, knowing they are jet black. Saint is gone, all reason forgotten, the devil himself standing in front of him.
But West has the same feeling coursing through him. He knows before she even says the words.
“Harla. The Phoenix… they have her.”
I push past them all. The brothers in the main room all jump up when they see me—see my black eyes.
I take the steps three at a time, pushing through her door, seeing the crumpled sheets, her smell still lingering in the air.
“Angel?”
I race toward the bathroom.
“Angel?”
I race into the hallway. “Angel!” My voice echoes around the whole of the club as Reaper and West get to the top of the stairs.
I growl, baring my teeth as it all comes together like the perfect jigsaw puzzle.
I race past them, sending them on their ass by force alone. I spot her by the bar.
My lip curls up as my vision tunnels on her. Before anyone can stop me, I wrap my hand around her throat. Her nails claw at my hand, drawing blood, making me smirk.
“Boy.”
“Saint?”
I feel the barrel of a gun go to the back of my head.
“Don't make me do it.” West's voice is low, full of anguish.
I don’t listen to his warning, instead squeezing tighter, making her gasp.
“Your mole needed to know about Harla, right?” Reaper nods. “Ace… why would he put Harla in trouble? He could have spilled a million secrets. Why her?”
Reaper starts connecting the dots. “Let her go, boy.”
I can’t. Everything in me knows she’s the one who handed Harla over. All I see is Harla, scared and frightened.
I feel a prick, then a cold seeps into my veins. I growl, dropping Rhonda. She gasps for air, her neck already bruised.
“He’d better have it fucking wrong or I’ll gut you like a fucking pig.” Reaper talks low, menacingly.
The tears dry on her cheeks as she stands, smirking. “She’s just like her fucking mother. One look and the whole fucking club goes soft.”
I growl, leaping forward. I feel more hands than West’s come and cover my body, holding me back.
“My own son chasing after her like a fucking damn puppy, and that silent act you gave her… I saw straight through it. You’re losing it, Reaper. I saw the hurt fill your eyes as you watched her. You fucking love her.”
Reaper growls.
But Rhonda is on a fucking roll. “Then she falls for him, the beast, the unlovable, and she gets him to love her. Do you know they’ve been sneaking off, fucking every night? He goes to her. Even the devil has formed a heart.”
I push at everyone, trying to get to her as she smirks.
“And she thinks none of you care. I made sure to explain things. She’s in their hands, will die in their hands as they make her scream, thinking you don’t lo—”
Her words are cut off, an echo going around the room. I turn to see West standing behind me, chest heaving, holding the gun that killed his mother.
I fall to my knees and scream, fighting against all the brothers. I need my angel.
When I feel another prick, my whole body starts to feel funny.
“No,” I mumble, and the words come out slurred.
“It’s okay, Saint. We’ll get her, I promise.” I shake my head, and the sound of a metal door, a cell, a cage, shuts behind me as the darkness swallows me whole.
“Te amo, mi angel.” I love you, my angel, falls from my lips.
17
Harla
“You’ve caused quite a stir with my boys,” a man says, walking into the room. He’s tall, at least six foot if not more. His black hair is slicked to the left, and his nose has a little dent in it, as though it’s been broken before. He’s skinny, scrawny even, but his face has a look of someone who would kill you without a second thought.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but darkness has descended on the room. The men who brought me here threw me into this room and locked the door. There’s nothing in this room at all.
“I see they were right."
I narrow my eyes as he walks toward me, the door closing behind him as he does. The strong smell of tobacco hits me and my stomach rolls.
"Who are you?"
His lips twitch. "Funny, you asking me that."
"What does that even mean?" I have no idea why I'm talking to him. I know that he wants to hurt me. I can see it in his eyes.
"I owe your family," he grinds out. "I owe them big."
I don't say anything. I know he doesn't mean it in the way he wants me to think. The anger he has is rolling off him.
"An eye for an eye. Your bastard brother killed my son."
It finally clicks, and I know who he's talking about. He’s Fang, Jimmy’s father. "Your son raped Callie," I yell at him.
He chuckles. "Oh, so the princess has spirit. That's going to be fun to break."
"Why take me? I mean, it's West and Dad you want to exact revenge on. They don't care about me."
He laughs. "Oh, so naïve," he mocks, and it sets my teeth on edge. "They do. They care too fucking much, and that's the problem—for you."
I stare at him, unable to say anything. He's been given the wrong information. Seems as though Rhonda was playing both sides.
"You still don't see it." He laughs as he crouches in front of me. "Your dad kept his distance from you for years because he never wanted this to happen. He kept you all alone so he could protect you."
"Bullshit."
He tuts. "He's been trying to protect you this entire time. See, he believed he had a mole in his club. He was right. He just didn't realize how close they were to him."
"What are you going to do with me?" I question, changing the subject, not wanting to talk about Dad.
His fingers caress my cheek and I flinch. "I'm going to have fun with you, and when I'm done, it'll be my boys’ turn." He chuckles. "By the time we're finished with you, you won’t remember who the Reapers are."
"Fuck you," I spit at him.
His laughter chills my blood. "Keep that spirit. I love when women fight back. It makes it all the more fun." His hands curl into my hair and he pulls my head toward him. “You’re going to love it.”
“Never.”
“I’ll show you how a real man takes care of a woman, not that fucking bastard
, Saint.”
I glare at him. “I don’t see a real man here.”
My head whips to the left as he savagely backhands me.
“Keep going, girl. You’re just making me harder.”
I dry heave at his words, which just makes him laugh. “I wonder what Reaper’s going to think when he finds out his daughter was on her knees, sucking my dick?”
The sound of his belt buckle has my entire body freezing. When I hear the sound of his zipper being undone, I swallow back the nausea.
“Not so sassy now, are you, girl?” His hands go to my head and I fight against him, but he’s too strong. He pulls my head toward him, his dick nudging at my lips. I tighten them, not wanting him anywhere near me.
“Told you about playing hard to get,” he growls. “It just makes me want it even more.” One of his hands releases my head, the other’s grip tightening so I can’t move. “Now, open your mouth,” he demands, but I don’t.
His fingers squeeze my cheeks, forcing my mouth open, and he instantly pushes his dick into it.
He withdraws slightly before thrusting back in. I do the only thing I can do, and that's bite down as hard as I can.
“Fuck!” he yells, releasing me.
My head snaps back as pain erupts in my nose. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as I cry out in pain.
“You fucking bitch,” he growls, pulling up his pants and doing the buckle up. The sound is music to my ears. My relief is short-lived as he grabs my wrist, pulling me to my feet. He yanks my arm hard and there’s a pop, followed by unimaginable pain. Tears tumble down my face as he drags me with him out of the room.
“Now you’re going to know what it feels like to be a fucking whore,” he snarls, pulling me alongside him as he walks into the club. All the Phoenixes are sat around drinking. As soon as we come into the bar, their gazes turn to us.
He throws me to the ground, and I fall heavily onto my arm. The pain intensifies, but this time I manage to bite back the cry.
“Have at her, boys,” he declares, and laughter fills the room.
I’m immediately lifted into the air. I close my eyes as hands touch me. There’s so many I lose count. I feel violated, and they haven't even done anything to me yet. When someone begins pulling at my pants, nausea hits me, and this time I’m unable to keep it down.
I throw up, and the men hiss, taking a step backward. The man who lifted me still has me in his arms, and I kick and punch, trying to get away.
I manage to finally break free of his hold, but just as I turn to run, someone else grabs me. This time, they push me to the floor. I see a boot lift above my face before coming down hard on my cheek. I don't know how much more pain I can take. My head is fuzzy. I try and sit up but it's too hard.
A banging sound has the men scrambling. Whatever that noise was, they weren't expecting it. I take this opportunity to crawl away, hoping I can find somewhere to hide.
"Oh, no you don't, Princess." That voice… it’s Fang. "You're staying right here with me." He lifts me by my hair, his arm going around my neck. "The Reapers are here, and you're going to watch as, one by one, they die."
Fear courses through me. They can't die. I'm unable to breathe at the thought.
Another bang sounds. This time, it's followed by smoke and gunfire. I yelp as Fang pulls me backward with him, moving out of the line of fire.
I watch as man after man goes down, bullets in their heads or their hearts. It's not the Reapers that are dying, it's the Phoenixes. The brothers aren't taking any chances. They're taking everyone out.
"Fang." That deep, gravelly voice has my heart pounding. It's Dad. "Let go of my daughter, now," he demands.
Fang laughs, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Never going to happen," he tells him as he lifts his gun and puts it to my head. "An eye for an eye. Your son took mine, and now I take your daughter."
I glance around the room. Fang is the only member of Renegade Phoenix left standing. Some are alive on the floor, barely hanging on. Other's dead as soon as the bullets hit them. The Reapers gather round as Dad stares Fang down. My heart hurts when I realize that neither Saint nor West are here. I was right, they don't give a shit about me.
"No, asshole, she won't be dying." It's said with so much malice that I have to turn.
Fang follows suit and laughs. "Oh wow, you really don't give a fuck about your kids, do you, Reap. Bringing them both here for me to kill."
Bang.
My entire body is jolted at the impact of the bullet. Hands wrap around me before I fall to the ground. Glancing down, I see Fang lying on the ground, a bullet between his eyes, blood trickling out and down to his open eyelid.
"You're safe, Harla," West says, pulling me into his body.
As soon as I'm in his grasp, I cry. "I thought you hated me," I grumble.
"Get that shit out of your head. Let me look at you," he says, holding me at arms-length. "Doc needs to see you."
I nod. Yeah, he does, and I’m worried about the baby. I don't dare voice that though.
"Where's Saint?" I ask softly as he guides me out of the Phoenix compound and into the night.
Air fills my lungs and relief washes through me. I didn't know if I would ever see West again.
"You doing okay?" he asks quietly. "Did they do anything to you?"
Flashes of Fang pushing his dick into my mouth fill my mind, but I shake my head. "No, they never got a chance."
He nods, looking relieved. "Good. The fucker’s already dead, not much more I can do to him now."
I laugh at how disappointed he sounds. "Are they all gone?"
"No, there were only a few of them there tonight. There's more out there. Someone will take over from Fang."
I swallow hard. "Will they be after me?"
"No, that's done. Fang wanted revenge for the death of Jimmy." Even though he's saying this, I don't believe him. His eyes hold something dark in them. Something that tells me this could be only the beginning.
He leads me to the car. “You’re going to be sore for a while.”
I nod. “Yeah, I think I have a broken nose and arm.”
He glances down at my arm that’s hanging limply at my side. “Shit, yeah. Lie down, we’ll be home soon.” He helps me into the car, Dad standing beside him. I ignore him, just as he has done to me since I’ve come to stay with him. I lie down and West immediately shuts the door.
“You need to tell her we were doing it to protect her,” I hear West say.
“Later,” Dad growls, and I don’t bother looking. A lone tear falls from my eye as West gets into the front and puts the car into drive.
I begin to relax the further he drives away from the Phoenix compound. “You never did say where Saint is,” I say softly.
His back straightens. “He wanted to come, but, Harla… the Saint you know isn’t there right now. First thing’s first, we have to get you checked out.”
I sit up, the pain of lying on my side getting too much.
“He loves you. I swear to you, Harla, he loves you more than anything. The man has demons. They’re rooted in him and I don’t think he’ll ever get rid of them, but you—when you’re with him, he’s a different man. Don’t give up.”
“Something I’ve learned since being with you, Dad, and Saint—I’ve learned that I’m worth more than being ignored. I was so happy to see Dad after Gigi died. I thought I was safe, that I was going to be around someone who loved me, who would care about me. Then I found out about you, and I couldn’t believe it. I know it was a shock, but I was immediately comfortable around you. Then there’s Saint. I gave him every single piece of me. Each of you have made me doubt that love I have for you and I can’t forgive that. Not right now.”
I lean back against the seat and close my eyes, tears slowly falling, and I let them. I’m tired and sore. All I want to do is lie in bed and forget everything.
18
Saint
My body jerks awake as I scream out in pain, my mind trying
to catch up. When the next strike comes, hard and fast, pain erupts through my body. I feel the blood trickling down my back.
“Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:21,” I hear him repeat, over and over, like a mantra, between the whooshing and the white-hot pain. My body is shivering, my teeth chattering, even with my skin burning as if the fires of hell themselves have taken residence. I jerk at the cold touch on my head as he marks my forehead. “Take the devil from this boy,” he repeats, and soon I hear the others all start chanting the same.
My stomach cramps. “Food… please.” It falls from my cracked lips, and I hear his heavy boots walks away.
“The devil must be starved from your body,” he repeats, the same thing he's been saying for days, as the metal door of my cage closes. A dizziness starts to wash over me as I watch a river of red running toward the door, as if it’s running for escape. That's when I realize it’s my blood.
I watch as the devil leaves my body while they break my skin, starve me, as they make the sign of the cross on me and pray. It will never be enough, because the devil isn’t in me. My mama was right.
I am the devil.
“Brother?” I know that voice. It pulls at something but not enough to lift my head off the cold floor.
“We got her. She’s back—bruised, but she is going to be okay.” The relief in his voice is evident, making me lift my gaze. I see him crouched down in front of the bars. “Harla, she’s back.” He speaks slowly.
“Dulce angel.” Sweet angel. The words fall from my lips, making him nod.
I curl into myself, closing my eyes as the darkness finds me, taking me home.
“He’s worse than before.” I hear the worry in West’s voice. I want to open my eyes, but they’re too heavy. I want to sleep, to fall into the darkness.
“You need to tell her.” I hear a low growl. West is pissed.
“She’s been through enough. We will talk when she’s ready.” There’s a dark laugh—Reaper.
“She’s your daughter. She thinks you don't want her.” There’s another deep growl.
Saint's Angel: Mc Standalone Page 12
