Page 260 of Remorseless

At thirteen, she discovered herself pregnant by fifteen-year-old Joey Foy. It could’ve been chalked up to a grave mistake by a headstrong young girl, a romantic at heart, who searched for her own identity.

The morality and legality of two minors having sex was excused. Time had even softened her parents. Or, maybe, her brother’s death did the trick. A year after her son’s birth, Charles ran afoul of the club.

Seraphina never discovered his exact misstep, though she suspected his greed killed him. Whatever it was had left her doubly indebted to Rack.

Once her parents threw her out of the house for the shame she’d bring on them and she told Joey about her pregnancy, he’d gone to Rack for help, fearing his father’s reaction. Rack had agreed that Big Joe would be furious and would only further the chasm with Joey. More importantly, Joey’s stupidity would exalt a man named Christopher more.

Seraphina didn’t know ChristopherorBig Joe. From the sound of it, that was a good thing. At first, Rack considered killing Seraphina, and thus her baby, both an ill-advised dilemma. If she could have, she would’ve escaped.

The house Joey brought her to was crawling with bikers. Two stood outside the door of the room she was in. If she needed to use the bathroom, they followed her. She’d begged and pleaded for privacy, but they gave her none. They allowed her no snacksand one meal a day.

Overnight, she’d gone from a schoolgirl in her own room with yellow and cream décor, pretty clothes, a lot of books, and dreams of ballet, to a pregnant outcast with no one to care for, or about, her.

When the dust settled on her weeklong captivity, Joey worked out a deal with Rack where Seraphina would stay at the house. It turned out it was where Rack housed his girlfriend and their sons. Though Hortensia wasn’t far from Camas where Seraphina grew up, it might as well have been an ocean away.

Respectable families, middle class living, and safety hallmarked the city of her birth; Hortensia, on the other hand, was a rough-and-tumble place on the banks of the Columbia, dominated by the Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club.

During her pregnancy and for months after Randolph’s birth, Joey visited Seraphina and did the best he could for her with Rack and Sylvia’s help. Seraphina hated Wally, Jr., their oldest son. He was a miserable asshole. Nor did she like Big Joe and shehatedChristopher. Not that she’d met either of them. Joey kept her filled in on how Christopher had stolen Big Joe away.

On her sixteenth birthday, her life changed again. Rack insisted Joey, eighteen now, wanted to introduce her to his father at the club. Joey’s change of heart had been hard to believe, and she’d tried to refuse.

It was the first time Rack, or any man, laid hands on her. She should’ve taken her son and run as far as she could. Capitulation had been a bigger mistake than copulation.

When Rack guided her into the clubhouse, it hadn’t been terribly crowded. Joey had been sitting at a table with several men, including his father. Though she’d never met Big Joe, the resemblance to his son, and the grandson he knew nothing about, was uncanny. He was big, blond, and blue eyed.

“What are you doing here?” Joey blared, staring at her with a combination of anger and unease.

Seraphina shifted her weight. Suddenly, she had the attention of everyone in the room. Two boys, one black-haired and green-eyed, and the other golden-haired and silver-eyed, turned away from their places at the bar to look at her.

“I asked you a question, Seraphina,” Joey said.

“Stupid cunt wouldn’t listen to me, boy,” Rack said. He shoved her forward and she stumbled.

If Big Joe hadn’t moved so quickly, she would’ve fallen. But he was there to steady her. Before she knew it, the two boys flanked him.

“Put your fucking hands on this child again, Rack, and I’ll chop your fucking fingers off.”

“She’s not a child, Boss,” Rack responded. “She’s sixteen.”

“And that make her a lil’ fuckin’ kid,” the black-haired boy snapped. “But I’m wastin’ my breath on a stupid motherfucker.”

“Christopher—”

Seraphina startled at discovering the identity of the boy, though she enjoyed Rack’s indignant tone.

“She’s Joey’s bitch,” Rack spat. He smirked at her. “You know the type of sluts he fucks here.”

“Wh-what?” Seraphina said, tears rushing to her eyes. Joey always swore she was the only one for him, and they’d one day marry. “Joey—”

“Shut up, cunt,” he barked. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Enough!” Big Joe roared, frowning when Seraphina burst into tears. “Uh, don’t cry, honey.” He patted the top of her head.

She cried harder because he looked so uncomfortable.

“Here.”

Christopher held out a napkin.