Page 5

Five

I want to take a man that’s been through a lot and show him it can get worse.

— Aella’s secret thoughts

AELLA

I could say that I handled everything with a great attitude, but that would be a lie.

I’d tracked my money to this middle of nowhere place—how there could be a middle of nowhere but still be in Dallas proper, I didn’t know—and had come to a decision.

I would not let my mom steal this money from me.

She’d already taken too much from me, and I wouldn’t allow her to take one more thing.

I looked up at the razor wire and smiled.

I’d snuck in and out of so many places that razor wire was a breeze.

Doing it in Crocs was new, and I’d only torn a small tear into my scrubs pocket.

I’d started walking, keeping to the shadows, my target my money.

I’d just spied my mom’s car parked off to the side in the shadows as well when two strong arms wrapped around my body.

They were unrelenting and unbreakable, which had me fighting for my life.

I’d just twisted enough to get an arm loose when the man holding me spoke. “Chill.”

That voice.

The instantaneous reaction out of my body upon hearing a familiar voice had me stilling.

“Chevy?”

“What are you doing here?” He sounded really angry.

Which, I guess he had a right to be, seeing as I’d likely just broken onto his property and he’d caught me.

There was a hitch in my breath before I said, “Um…”

At my hesitation, he tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing but air.

There was a long moment there where I tried to tell myself that this wasn’t the best thing ever, and I had to force myself to sound indignant when I said, “Chevy! Let me down!”

He didn’t let me down.

In fact, his hand moved up to cover my ass and I knew damn well and good he wanted to spank it.

The thrill that went through me as he did that had my heartbeat skyrocketing, which wasn’t a good thing when you were already upside down.

His strides were long and angry, and I did have to admit it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to be bounced on his shoulder straight into the diaphragm.

He carried me directly inside, then placed me on a stool in the middle of some very large men before he backed up.

Yep, wasn’t good.

Wasn’t good at all.

I stalled for time by fixing my hair, making it to where it didn’t hang all in my face so I could see everything in case I needed to run.

Not that I expected to get very far.

All five men surrounding me looked very spry, albeit large and intimidating.

Maybe I shouldn’t try to run at all…

I licked my lips and said, “Uhhh…”

“Explain,” Chevy, one that I realized I didn’t know at all, growled.

“I, uh…” I started but stopped.

What exactly did I say?

That my mom stole my rent money and I tracked it here?

That sounded crazy.

“Now,” the big man in the middle said, leaving no room for argument.

I studied him for a long second.

They all were wearing leather vests that I knew to be called cuts thanks to Sons of Anarchy , but only he was wearing one that said President over his very well-worked-out left pectoral.

“I, um, I’m…” I stuttered.

I was going to talk, I swear, but then my mind sort of blanked when I saw the woman that was coming out of the hallway behind them.

My mother.

She was wearing AirPods—things that I couldn’t afford to own myself because my mom stole our money so much—and dancing as she pushed a cart out of the dark hallway.

She was also, I noted, wearing my shoes!

I’d just bought them last month because I’d found them at a resale shop for fifteen dollars.

They were brand-new, never worn, and I’d been so excited for that steal.

I hadn’t realized that she’d taken them but now that I saw she had them, the anger and the pain all culminated into a rage so complete that I didn’t think.

I just acted.

I didn’t notice the men look with me, giving me the opening that I needed.

I didn’t notice how my mother saw me and stopped, frozen in shock to see me there.

All I saw was the fucking fact that my mother was wearing my brand-new shoes, wearing AirPods I couldn’t afford, and standing in a place she didn’t deserve to be.

The lying sack of shit.

I launched myself off the stool, forced my way between two very large men, and hit her like a linebacker.

“You took my rent money!” I screeched at the bitch of an egg donor.

When my mom was on my floor, and I straddled her body, I reared back and started punching her.

“It’s not enough that you stole our credit, and our ability to have a simple bank account, but now you’re sweet talking yourself into our apartments and stealing our money? You’re such a fucking bitch!” I reared back and let a punch loose on the bitch. “Give it back!”

I hit her again before punctuating that hit with, “And you took my brand-new shoes! Do you know how fucking sick I was to spend fifteen dollars on those? I’m too scared to even wear them to work because I don’t want them to get ruined! Yet you took them? You are the worst piece of filth I’ve ever met in my life, and I wish you’d fucking die!”

That was harsh to hear, I was sure, but that’s the way I felt.

I hated her with every single breath that I took.

Once she was no longer moving anymore, I stood up and yanked the shoes off her feet.

Then I started to clear out her pockets.

I found the case for the AirPods and then yanked the earbuds out of her ears, which I was surprised to find were still in place.

After I had those, I took her car keys and marched out of the building, heading straight to her car.

I felt more than saw the wall of muscle follow me.

Thankfully, one of the large men turned on a large spotlight, giving me a clear view of her car.

It was new.

If my mom was one thing, it was a survivor.

She’d con anyone, and that usually meant a lot of men that had money.

Likely, she’d conned some poor guy and taken his car. Or he’d been too stupid and had bought it just for her.

Whatever happened, I couldn’t stop myself from picking up a large rock that I saw next to the door I’d exited and heading toward the gleaming thing.

I bleeped the locks to make sure that I had the correct one, and when I saw the lights flash, I took the rock and slammed it into her passenger side window.

“What are you doing?” I heard my mother cry. “That’s my car!”

I pulled the rock back and did it to the windshield next, loving the way the glass crunched.

“She’s feisty…” I heard replied.

I turned to find two more bikers come up from the back somewhere but dismissed them almost immediately.

“I know,” I thought I might’ve heard Chevy say.

After my fingers started to hurt, I unlocked the car, then went to my phone which miraculously was still in my pocket and went back to the app that allowed me to find my things.

The beeping started, and I pawed through all of her shit, throwing things that I didn’t need out of the car door, until I found all of my money and then some hiding under her passenger seat.

I yanked it out, then stopped when I saw my jewelry.

All of my jewelry.

Even some of my jewelry that she’d stolen years ago.

Anger hit me all over again, but I breathed through it.

Spotting a bag in the back seat, I saw it was filled with clothes.

New clothes.

Nice clothes.

I kept the clothes in there, then started to pull my jewelry out from under the seat.

Then I went through her car like I was a crime scene tech, taking everything that might be of value as I did.

I took paperwork, too, and some glasses that she probably stole from a store.

When I spotted a knife in the center console, I figured, why the fuck not?

I started slicing her seats, uncaring and unaffected.

By the time I was through, there was a pile of shit next to the car that I was planning on keeping, and my arms were shaking from the effort.

My last stop was the trunk, which I popped.

When it opened with a light click, I yanked it open and then stared.