Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Getting up, I shut the door, change into a pair of jeans, and throw on a sweater, not bothering to put something on underneath it. Pulling my hair into a top bun, I walk out to find two of his girls hanging off him.
All heads turn to me, and I stand silently, staring back at them. They can fuck him for all I care. Believe me, I lost interest in that man a long time ago. They can have at it.
He pushes them off him and stalks over to me. He reaches for my sweater and tugs on it, clearly not impressed with what I am wearing. I’m comfortable. That’s all I aim for these days. I have no reason to dress up for anyone.
“Change,” he orders, his red-tinged blue eyes lock on me.
“No.”
His head tilts to the side. “Maybe I need to start training you better. A little fucking smack here and there should teach you.”
I don’t respond.
If he lays a hand on me, I’ll leave. Of that, I have no doubt.
Why would it take that to make me leave? Things are bad enough as they are.
Why haven’t I already left? Because I can survive with how things are. I can keep my sister sane and not let her spiral back to where she used to be by sacrificing myself. Everything I do, I do with my sister in mind.
“What he even sees in you is beyond me,” he sneers, then drops his hand from my sweater and heads toward the door. The three women he came with file out after him. The door hangs open, and I follow to find them already in the car. Cody always drinks and drives, and as much as I hate it, he clearly never listens to me when I tell him not to. One day, he will get himself killed, and I hope when he does, he doesn’t take any innocent people with him.
I climb into the back seat and stare out the window as the women play with the music. When they land on a song they like, they start to sing, and the one next to me bumps shoulders with me to get me to sing along. I ignore her, as I do with every woman he brings around, and continue staring out the window at the nothingness beyond.
One might wonder why I don’t take the front seat, considering I’m his wife. But I am only his wife in name, not anything else. But even that part, I hate.
The car slows down, and I recognize the compound. It’s currently lit up, and there are bikes and people everywhere, unlike when I am usually here.
The women spill out of the car when Cody parks. The asshole takes another swig of his alcohol and then climbs out too. I contemplate taking the keys and driving off—I’m not even sure he would realize if I did. Cody’s arms are around two of the women as he sidles up closer to the men who are sitting around the fire like he’s already forgotten about me.
Getting out of the car, I look down at the dead grass beneath my old sneakers and sigh.
I’d rather be in bed.
I don’t even know why I’m here.
As I scan the area in front of the clubhouse, it appears no one even notices me.
I know a few of the men here from school and growing up, but not on any truly personal level. I used to be shy and nervous coming here, but now I know most of the guys, as I always pass them when I come in. Even though some don’t speak to me, they all seem to be respectful, for the most part.
I walk into the clubhouse and take a seat at the makeshift bar, then reach over to grab a soda, bypassing Letti and the club members tending the bar with her. Letti is my age, though I have never really spoken to her much when we were growing up.
The guys helping her are called prospects, and basically, they do whatever the other members say and then some. They all seem happy to be here. One of them, Mason, even went to a boys’ private school around here. I think he’s two years older than me. I’m not sure why he joined, but I have heard stories his family owed money and were killed, and that’s why. But it’s all stories. I’ve learned not to listen to rumors, considering how many are out there about me.
“Not drinking tonight?” Mason asks.
“Are you?” I ask him, nodding to his open beer can.
“Want one?”
I’m about to say no, but I shrug my shoulders instead. “Sure.”
He hands me one and smiles. Mason has a nice smile. He still has that vibe about him that he came from money, but I know he no longer lives that lifestyle. Actually, I’m pretty sure he lives here like a few of the others. I tap on the lid of the can and take in the bar. The thick, varnished wood is polished to a sheen that I can almost see my face in it. Mason gives me a knowing look and nods to the can. I crack it open and shoot him a smile.