Page 11

NATALIA

"Y ou’re not staying here another goddamn night."

Barrel’s voice thundered through the apartment, shaking the cheap blinds as I backed away, arms crossed, heart pounding.

“I said no!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the peeling walls. “I don’t want to go to the clubhouse. I’m not one of your little biker whores, Dad!”

His eyes flared that dangerous kind of flare. The one I’d only seen when someone tried to fuck with him in public. The kind that meant someone was about to bleed.

In two long strides, he was in front of me, grabbing my arm. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm. Final. The kind of grip that said I wasn’t getting away this time.

“You’re coming with me now. I'm done with the fatherly love type of bullshit, you need tough love, kid.”

“No!” I struggled against him as he dragged me to the door, practically lifting me off the floor when I planted my heels. “You can’t do this!”

His jaw clenched. “I can. And I will. You’re done playing house in this shithole. You’re coming where I can keep eyes on you.”

“You can’t keep me from my classes!”

“Oh, I can,” he snapped, hauling me down the stairs like I weighed nothing. “You know I’ve got the means. Don’t test me, Natalia. You think I won’t lock you up in a room until you forget your own damn name? Watch me.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not again.

Outside, his bike waited for us, like some armored transport just waiting to take me away. The sun glared off the chrome as the engine already rumbled. I glared at it like it had betrayed me, but when he handed me the helmet with that look, that deadly, don’t-you-dare-fight-me look, I reluctantly took it.

The ride was a blur. Wind whipping past us, the heat of the bayou rising off the cracked roads as we shot down into the trees. Spanish moss hung low, like rough fingers brushing my arms as we sped past. I hated how familiar it all felt. Hated how my skin buzzed with nerves.

By the time the gates of the clubhouse appeared, I wanted to throw up.

My Dad rolled us through without a word to the biker who stood on guard. His eyes narrowed on me as we rode past and I shivered.

The clubhouse loomed like a fortress. Worn brick, metal paneling, chain-link fencing topped with barbed wire. Bikes lined the gravel lot, each more customized and terrifying than the last. Men stood outside, smoking, laughing, loud and crude. Every one of them wore a cut.

Royal Bastards.

My Dad parked, dismounted, then looked at me. “Stick close. No one touches you, but don’t be stupid. Keep your mouth shut, and don’t wander.”

I nodded, keeping silent. Mostly because I was terrified.

As we walked in, the smell of beer, smoke, and sweat hit me like a wall. The place was buzzing, music playing low, the clink of pool balls in the back, the low murmur of voices hung in the air.

The moment I stepped inside, I felt eyes. Dozens of them.

They raked over me, undressing me and sizing me up. Like I was a fresh piece of meat thrown into a den of wolves.

My Dad didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance at them. But I saw the way his hand stayed near his waist where his gun was hidden. He was at the ready and that unnerved me.

And then, like an angel sent to pull me from hell, she appeared.

“Hey!”

A tall, gorgeous woman with a killer body, long dark waves, and sharp hazel eyes approached. She was dressed in ripped jeans and a tank top, her tattoos visible and stunning. But her smile was warm, motherly, almost disarming.

My Dad grunted. “Aiyana. This is my daughter.”

She blinked. "Well, shit."

Barrel nodded to me, then to the men. “She’s off-limits. Anyone even breathes wrong near her, I’ll rip your fuckin’ spine out and hang it on the wall.”

He meant it. Every single word. Then he looked at me. "This is Prez’s Old Lady. You do what she says."

Aiyana smirked and looped her arm through mine. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me show you the ropes.”

She led me down a hallway and into a large kitchen, industrial style, with a double fridge, grill station, and deep sink. “This is your domain. You stay put and no one will bother you. Stay near me or Bulldog. You’ll be fine.”

“Bulldog?” I asked.

“My old man. The Prez. Mean as hell, but he worships the ground I walk on. And he’ll protect you too. Just don’t go wandering, and for the love of God, don’t flirt. These men? They smell fear and innocence, like blood in the water.”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

She softened. “You’re gonna be okay, honey. Just stick to me.”

She showed me where the dishes were, how to portion meals, what beer they liked cold. It felt like she was handing me armor, not instructions.

Everything seemed pretty easy, and I figured as long as she was with me, I'd be okay. But I can also tell she needed the help. As bright as she was, there was something quite not right. She'd stop and take a few breaths like talking hurt her, but she gave a tough face, and I had to respect er for that. All was going well until we walked back out to the bar. That’s when everything went sideways.

One of the newer guys, young, smug, with a blond mohawk and a silver lip ring, whistled low.

“Damn, didn’t know we were bringin’ in fresh pussy. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

I froze. and Aiyana tensed beside me.

I watched as she closed her eyes, as if expecting the chaos, and sure enough, it exploded.

My father's fist came out of nowhere, slamming into the guy’s face with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed across the bar, catching on leather and wood. The guy staggered, dazed, but before he could even hit the ground, my Dad grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back up.

"You wanna talk like that again? About my daughter?" Barrel roared, his voice so loud it vibrated in my bones.

Another punch landed, this one to the guy’s gut. He doubled over, gasping. Then another, right across the jaw.

Men started moving in, trying to pull my father back, but he shook them off like they were made of paper. The guy was coughing blood now, one eye already swelling shut.

“Fucking stop !” Aiyana shouted beside me, but it was too late.

My father pulled his arm back for another hit, and that’s when the doors flew open.

“Enough!” The voice cracked through the chaos like a whip. A very familiar voice that made my heart skip a beat.

Tick Tock.

He stormed in, eyes burning, cut hanging open, his hair wild, flowing just below his neckline. He shoved two brothers aside and pushed his way straight over to my father, getting between him and the half-conscious guy on the ground.

“Back the fuck off,” Tick Tock barked. “You kill him, you’re cleaning brain off the floor for a week.”

My father’s chest heaved. His fists were still clenched, knuckles smeared with blood. He glared at Tick Tock, but stepped back, just enough.

“You didn't hear what he said to her?”

Tick Tock didn’t look at him. Not at first. His eyes scanned the scene, then locked on me.

My father stood every one of them, breathing hard. “She’s. My. Daughter.”

Tick Tock's eyes widened, and it was like I’d punched him straight in the chest.

He froze.

The bloodied man groaned from somewhere on the floor. Aiyana had stepped in front of me, shielding me with her body. But Tick Tock couldn’t look away. His lips parted, shock written across his face.

Because he knew. And I knew he knew. That his kitten was his brother's daughter.

Tick Tock stood there, breathing hard, as my father turned and made it official.

“This is my daughter, Natalia,” he growled to the room. “If any of you lay a hand on her, I’ll gut you.”

And Tick Tock?

He could only stare at me as he came to the realization that he'd already laid hands on me and neither of us had any idea how we were going to survive this.