by Eden Rose
Prince
A Diablos MC Novel
A New Take On An Old Classic
Eden Rose
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Prince Copyright © 2019 by Eden Rose. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information contact Eden Rose.
Prince
A Diablos MC Novel
Chapter One:
Then: Prince
Leukemia.
“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, but your daughter has leukemia, Mr. and Mrs. Mueller,” the doctor exclaims with a look of sadness.
His words don’t register with me.
Cass, my baby’s mother, and I are sitting in the doctor’s office at the hospital because our daughter hasn’t been gaining weight like she’s supposed to be doing. Cass’s scream is high pitch and deafening to me.
“With treatment and radiation, your baby might have a fighting chance,” Dr. Adams states. The doctor I once thought was pretty with her brown hair all tucked in a smart looking fucking bun, now looks like a damn troll to me. Her eyes might as well have been red instead of the brown that they are. Her teeth might as be yellow and stained instead of perfectly white and straight.
I hate her.
They had to bring in a specialist after the other doctor didn’t know what was going on with Isabella. Isabella wasn’t gaining weight and she’s behind a lot in her developmental phases. One of the worst things I have ever gone through was hearing we needed a specialist for our one year old daughter.
“Mrs. Mueller, we would need to start the radiation and the chemotherapy as soon as possible,” she explains to Cass.
I’m still stuck on the word they used to describe my daughter.
Leukemia.
How is it possible for a little baby to get such a horrible fuckin’ disease? I don’t understand how it is even possible we are having this discussion with a doctor who doesn’t look to be much older than we are.
“Mr. and Mrs. Mueller,” she begins again.
This time I cut her off. “She’s not my wife,” I interrupt.
It’s true. Cass has always been club pussy and will always be club pussy. She stopped being club pussy to me when she came crying to me with a pee stick telling me I’m going to be a father. Did I honestly believe her? No. She is the type of fuckin’ woman who would trap someone into believing they’re the father and get them on the hook.
I made her take four pregnancy tests in front of me before I even began to believe her. I’m not gonna lie, it took until Isabella was born before I even knew Cass wasn’t lying anymore.
“I’m sorry?” Dr. Adams says with a look that asks more questions than she probably wants to know.
“She’s not my fuckin’ wife!” I growl. That’s when the whole conversation begins to register in my head. “My daughter had leukemia?” I snap. “What… how… Why?”
Cass reaches out to me to try and soothe me, but I move out of the way before she can touch me. I’m standing in front of the doctor with my fist in the air. I have every intention on hitting the doctor until it all dawns on me.
“Is this a birth defect?” I snarl.
“Josh! I didn’t do anything! I promise!” Cass begs me from the side of the room.
I ignore her. “Is this a birth defect?”
The doctor softens her eyes and tries to take out all the X-Rays of my daughter. I slap the file out of her hands. “I want to hear it from your lips. I don’t want to see fuckin’ pictures of my daughter. I want you to tell me my daughter has cancer!” I demand.
Dr. Adams doesn’t blanche until I’m further in her face. Her eyes are brown and wide from fear. “Isabella doesn’t have a birth defect. Unfortunately, these things happen and there’s nothing we can do about it, Mr. Mueller.”
That sets me off. “My name is Josh. Call me by my name!”
“Josh, I’m so sorry this is happening to you…”
Cass screams and cries from the other side of the small office as an orderly brings in Isabella in a stroller.
“The quicker you have her started on these tests, the better she will accept them.”
“Fuck you!” I growl, punching a hole in the wall next to where the doctor’s head is at.
Cass runs up behind me to grab my arms. “You have to stop!” She begs me.
“My daughter… My baby!” I cry for the first time in a long time.
Isabella’s little head is tilted to the side in her stroller with her pinkish-white lips puckered in a little suckle. She is hands down the most beautiful little girl in the world. My heart aches for her.
I lean over the stroller to brush my fingers against her cheek. Her little fingers wrap around my big thumb as she brings it to her mouth.
“My angel, I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” I cry over her. She looks confused as she looks at me. Her little blue eyes are full of love and adoration towards me.
My heart breaks in my chest. I have lived a hard life. I’m the Vice President of The Diablos MC and I’m respected by everyone in the house. I get whatever pussy I want, I can get my hands on whatever drugs I want.
I’m Prince. I get what I want when I want.
What I can’t get? I can’t get my daughter’s health back. She is still the absolute picture of perfection.
Her little arm is covered in bandaids where the nurses and doctors poked and prod her with needles to get the testing done.
“Daddy is so sorry,” I mumble with tears clogging my throat.
“Let’s go home,” Cass says next to me as she tries to wheel Isabella away from me.
I yank the stroller back. “You’re not takin’ my daughter from me,” I growl at her.
She holds her hands up. “We should get home, Josh.”
Isabella starts crying like she normally does when Cass and I are arguing in front of her. This seems to be happening more and more as the days go by.
“I need to get out of here,” I mumble.
I lean over to kiss Isabella and don’t say another word to anyone. I practically run towards the hospital exit and jump on my bike. The only person I can talk to is my dad. I need my dad.
The whole ride over to the clubhouse, images of those scans flash before my eyes. Every time I blink, I see those little scans of her little body. I’m such a fuck up.
“Yo, Prince!” Fat Cat calls out from the front of the clubhouse with a scantily clad club pussy on his lap. “What’s happenin’?”
I shake my head. “Is the prez here?”
He nods his head towards the door in a silent way of telling me my dad’s in his office.
A couple of the brothers stop to try and talk to me, but I have one thing on my mind. I need to talk to my dad. I knock on the door and barge in without waiting for an invitation- a move that would have gotten my ass whopped as a kid.
He snarls at me for a greeting. The blonde head on his lap stills. “Are you fuckin’ dumb, boy?” He sneers at me.
“Isabella has leukemia.”
He grabs the girl by the hair and moves her away from his dick. This isn’t something I have never seen with him. We are all up in each-others business regarding sex.
She hisses. “All right, all right!” The blonde pulls her dress down and wipes her mouth before running out of the room.
“Sorry about that,” I offer.
He shakes his head. My dad isn’t an old guy, by any means. A lot of the club whores love him and are anxious to get him to wife them up. After my mom cheated on him and ran off, he doesn’t give two fucks about settling down.
And quite frankly, I don’t blame him one bit for it.
“What’s goin’ on with my granddaughter?”
“They said she has leukemia and she has to start chemo and radiation,” I inform my dad as I plop down in the chair across from him.
“Mother fucker!” He groans and punches the desk in front of him. “Did that bitch do drugs or somethin’?”
“Nah, she said she didn’t. The doc said this shit happens from time to time.” I don’t know how I’m being so calm when all I want to do is shoot a mother fucker for looking at me wrong.
My dad leans over and grabs a couple shot glasses and his favorite scotch from the cabinet next to him. He pours the scotch in the shot glasses before sliding one to me.
I down the most needed scotch. I slam it back on the desk and he fills it up again.
“What am I gonna do, dad?” I ask after I down the next shot.
He shrugs. “We do what we always have done. We figure out how to survive. Spend as much time as you can with that little girl.”
I nod and put the shot glass back on the table. “Thanks, dad,” I mumble over my shoulder.
I need to get home.
Chapter Two:
Elle
The slap across my face is hard enough to make my lip bleed from catching my tooth. I taste the metallic zing of my blood as if floods my mouth. The inside of my cheek throbs a little from getting cut with my tooth.
The force isn’t strong enough for me to fall to the ground, but I do wobble a little. The wobbling makes them happy. It lets them know I’m breakable and vulnerable for them.
Those bastards.
They circle around me with intent and danger in their eyes. They know how nervous they are making me. How freaked out I am from knowing what is about to happen to me.
“Is she a virgin?” One of the men ask with a snarl. He’s about five foot six with a little belly protruding his belt buckle. With a scotch in one of his hands and his other hand behind his back, he looks menacing.
I would have shuddered at the thought of what it would be like when they take ownership of me if they didn’t pump me full of heroin before the auction. I knew what tonight was before even got here. They have been grooming me for this moment since my dad sold me to take care of his gambling debts.
The wind is bitter against my thin skin. I shudder from that and nothing more.
My life isn’t my own anymore. I might as well have already died.
“You know she’s not a virgin. Pretty close, but she’s not a virgin,” Harry chirps.
Harry has been my handler for the past couple of months. He’s taken his turn with me multiple times. Of course, he called it “testing the merchandise” which was his way of rationalizing raping me.
“All right. How much do you want for her?” The big belly man asks.
My handler looks over at me to see how much I’m worth. I’m standing in the middle of the warehouse auction only wearing lingerie. I am probably worth a lot to these people.
Uneasy on my heels, I waiver a little to the side. A set of big hands hold onto me to steady my body from falling. They don’t want to have bruised goods. It wouldn’t be good for the negotiation process.
“Three hundred grand should work,” my handler retorts with a snarl begging the buyer to argue.
I could see it from underneath my lashes, how he wanted to argue with my handler on the price. I may have been forced into prostitution, but I’m not cheap.
“You swear she’s good?” The buyer asks.
“Look, asshole. I’ve got other places to go and people to sell. Either you’re interested or you’re not. Hurry up and tell me what you want.”
The buyer circles around me one more time. This time he has his fingers dancing around my body almost as if he’s testing me to see how I feel under his fingertips. He leans in and sniffs my hair. I feel the need to push him away, but I have no power here.
I’m nothing besides a paycheck.
“We’ll take her. Raul, give the man the money,” the buyer advises.
My handler looks over me one more time and this time he almost looks sad. “I’ll be seeing you, my pet. Don’t worry about that. Be a good girl for these men and everything will be all right.”
I shake a little in my too tall shoes. I know what that means and it means he will never see me again. Once I’m bought for the mafia, I’m never going to be heard from again.
I have heard horror stories over what happens to their new women. A majority of the time, they are never found again. If in the off chance they are found, they never bounce back.
My handler places his hands on my shoulders and lightly shakes me. My hair flies to the backs of my shoulder blades and I wince from the jostling. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I were getting regular nutrients.
I am fed the bare minimum to sustain life and the ability to lay down on a bed and let strangers fuck me.
A new set of hands are placed on my body. This time, they are stronger hands. With more force than my handler’s.
Or ex-handler. I don’t know which one to call him.
“Come on, baby. We gotta get you ready for your first party.”
Chapter Three: Prince
There is one person who owes us a shit ton of money who hasn’t been taught a lesson yet and that’s Greg Brown.
The bastard owes over four hundred g’s and hasn’t paid shit.
Which means, I’m about to pay him a visit to teach him a lesson he won’t ever forget.
“Yo, D and Beast!” I call out in the middle of the bar.
Beast has Bella on his lap with their tongues down the other’s throats. He flips me off to show me his appreciation for being interrupted.
“I’m in the middle of something, prez.”
“We’re gonna ride out tonight and go see that asshole,” I holler over my shoulder for Dragon to hear as well.
Dragon lives for this kind of shit. The man is one sick bastard when it comes to getting what he wants. I have watched him dispose of bodies through drains before. He’s fucking crazy.
“Ready when you are,” he hollers out with a little limp from getting his ass kicked in the ring.
I shake my head. “When are you going to learn that you can’t take on everyone?” I taunt.
“Fuck off. You won’t fight me because you’re too afraid I’m gonna mess up that pretty face of yours.”
He’s standing in front of me with a blunt in his mouth. His hands are on the belt of his jeans as he pulls them up.
“Look at you. You’re a fucking mess!” I retort.
“Whatever. Are we going to sit here and talk about us being little pussies or go and get this dude and then come home and get pussy? If it were up to me, I would go with the second choice.”
“Beast, you ready, bro?”
He kisses Bella one more time and jumps to his feet ready to go on our ride.
Between the three of us, we’re the only three that don’t have kids yet. The other brothers have a whole slew of his kid which makes going to do this more dangerous than needed for them.
Well, I do have a daughter.
I rub my chest to ease the horrifying pain of what it feels like to have a daughter be sick. And I know because of that pain, I let some of the brothers slide from doing the basic shit. But runs are important.
You don’t do runs, you get your patch ripped the fuck off.
Don’t get me wrong. All the brothers are required to participate in runs. There’s no way they are getting out of that shit.
However, after what I went through, I would never do that to a brother’s family. They wouldn’t be able to handle the amount of pain a loss like that would do to them.
Shaking off the melancholy thoughts, I slip my arms th
rough my cut and get ready to ride out. I’m fucking sick and tired of these assholes thinking my dad still runs shit around here and then they dick me around. If my dad were still running this MC, he would have killed Chucky Two Guns before he ever saw it coming.
My dad might have had a soft spot for the women, but he didn’t like being had like that.
