Page 15 of Reaper's Claim
Dad never went back on a promise. It was his promise to Mom that he wouldn’t be hard on us and actually let us date. Kim had a current boyfriend who was still breathing.
“Can’t have all those underage girls here, Kim; it would bring trouble I don’t want around my club.” Dad rubbed his temples, looking like a giant behind his desk.
He had shaved his head a year earlier as a dare, and he liked it. He had been shaving it ever since. Personally, I thought it made him look younger, but Kim said he was doing it because of Leah, his current bed buddy, liked it.
“Dad, most of my friends are over eighteen already and if they want to mess with a biker, so be it.” Kim shrugged her shoulders.
“What do you want, Abby?” Dad looked across at me. For the first time this evening, my opinion was actually called upon.
What did I think about having an overly expensive and massive eighteenth birthday party?
“I hate the idea.”
“Of course you hate the idea.” Kim rolled her eyes and glared at me. “You have no friends.”
“Please. You’re inviting the whole darn school, Kim, as if they are all your friends.”
“Well, not one of them is yours, that’s for sure.”
She was mostly right.
“Girls,” Dad growled with a warning.
“I have friends.”
“Yes, two.” Kim sneered. “If you classify that black-headed emo freak and her brother as friends.”
I got along really well with Kayla Knight, my only friend, and her brother Jace. I considered him a friend, too. Even though he was a year and a half older than us and in college.
“Why are we even calling it a joint fucking party then?” I snapped. Once again, Kim lit a rage within me. “It is your party, not mine. I just want to chill in my room and do nothing. But no. You have to have this big bloody event!”
“GIRLS!” Dad roared, sending us into silence.
Kim glared at me, and I glared right back. We might be turning eighteen, but that didn’t mean we had grown up when it came to fighting.
“Fine, Kim, you can have the party, but everyone that enters this clubhouse is to know the rules. The party is to be in the pub only. No one is to enter the clubhouse or the garage. Abby,” Dad’s eyes shot to me, and for a split second, I saw the pity in them. “You don’t have to attend if you don’t want to. I know this isn’t your type of scene.”
“Please, Dad, she doesn’t have a scene,” Kim piped in.
All through fucking high school, I had to deal with this. When Kim wasn’t bullying me, everyone was ignoring me, and right now, I had had it.
“I hate you, Kim,” I hissed in her face, “and next time you get bitch-slapped, don’t expect me to jump in and have your back.”
I pushed the chair back and got up. Why did I always take the bloody high ground? When Kim was being cornered by Megan the day before at school, I didn’t even think twice about jumping in to get her off my sister.
Kim couldn’t hold her own in a fight if she had to. Though she should learn, because I couldn’t count how many times I’ve had to step in.
“Where are you going?” Dad asked as I opened the door, ready to storm the hell away from both of them.
“Out, and no, I don’t know when I’ll be home, and no, I’m not telling you where I am going, and yes, I’m going to be drunk when I decide to return to this hellhole I am cursed to call home,” I sneered before slamming his door.
I hated Kim, and I hated Dad for never standing up for me.
Reaper
I put my feet up on the desk, reading the newspaper. Once again, Satan’s Sons were on its front cover.
“Yo, Prez.” Liam knocked on my door before walking in.
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