Ten years of abuse taught Odessa to hide every bruise. One brutal night taught her to stop hiding. She photographed the evidence, saved her own money, and planned her escape. Hector thinks she is trapped. He has no idea she is already taking back her life. 👑⚡ Chapter 1: Odessa's Escape- Chapter 1 Odessa's POV- Consciousness came back in pieces. First, pain. Thick, hot, and everywhere. Then my own rough breath, followed by a low sound I couldn’t stop from pushing past my mouth. I opened my eyes a little, then squeezed them shut again when my left side screamed at me. Birds chattered somewhere outside. A few bikes growled past on the road, loud enough to yank me the rest of the way out of sleep. My eyes flew open. For one frozen second, I forgot where I was. Then the cracked dash, the cold steering wheel, and the cramped angle of my body reminded me. My truck. I jerked my gaze around the parking lot, praying no one had spotted me curled up in here overnight. If anyone from school found out I had slept in my truck, it would be everywhere before first period. Then another thought hit me harder. Shit. School. I snatched up my phone and jabbed the power button, waiting for the screen to wake. Even before it fully loaded, I checked the time. My pulse slowed a fraction. I wasn’t late yet. Not if I moved. I twisted toward the back seat for my duffle bag and instantly regretted it. Fire shot up my left side, sharp enough to tear a cry from me. I eased back into the driver’s seat one careful inch at a time, breathing through my teeth until the worst of it passed. Hector had really gone all in last night. Hector Jacobs is my stepfather. He has been in my life since I was born, which is why I still carry his last name. That does not make him my dad. He lost any chance at that word a long time ago. Since I was eight, he has treated me like something built to absorb his fists. One more month. That was all I had been telling myself. One more month, then I turn eighteen. After that, I can walk away, disappear, and never set foot in that house again. But after last night, a month suddenly felt dangerous. Too long. Maybe long enough for him to finish what he has been starting for years. And now I had proof. Real proof. I didn’t think anyone could stop me from leaving if I showed what he had done. I had never seen Hector as bad as he was last night. He lost some major business deal, came home furious, and used me to bleed off the rage. At least one rib had to be broken. My face hurt in too many places, and my neck felt tender beneath the collar of my hoodie. I flipped the visor down and stared into the little mirror. Yeah. Fantastic. A black eye. Bruising along my cheek. More color blooming near my jaw and across my lip. The eye itself wasn’t swollen, thank God, only darkened, so my bright green iris still showed clearly. The cold weather helped. A turtleneck sweater would hide my neck. My face, though, was a separate problem. Good thing I had learned makeup young. I worked quickly, dabbing and blending until the damage looked less like a crime scene and more like a bad night’s sleep. Once my face was covered, I headed for the public restroom. I had driven to the lake after running from the house. The lot was tucked away, quiet, and not the kind of place Hector would ever bother checking. Better yet, the bathroom stayed open all night. It gave me somewhere to brush my teeth, clean up, wrap whatever needed wrapping, and get dressed for school like everything was normal. Normal. Right. I climbed out of my battered black truck, shut the door, and pulled open the back to grab my duffle from the seat. The truck was ugly because it had been the first vehicle I bought with money I’d earned myself. Some of it came from my part-time job. The rest came from work my parents knew nothing about. I could have bought something much nicer with that second income, but nicer would raise questions. Questions led to attention, and attention was the last thing I needed at home. After locking the truck, I crossed to the restroom. Inside, I went straight to the stall I always used. It had a mirror and enough room to change without bumping into every wall. Jeans and underwear came first because I knew that would hurt less than dragging my shirt and bra over my ribs. The bra might have to stay on. Bandages first, then survival. I shoved my feet into my sneakers, then started working my T-shirt up. Every inch was a negotiation. I paused, winced, breathed, and tried again until I finally got it off. The bruising looked worse without fabric hiding it. For a moment, all I could do was stare. Then I wiped away the makeup I had already put on and took pictures. Every mark. Every ugly patch of purple, blue, and yellow spread across my skin. If I had to prove this, I was going to prove all of it. After that, I wrapped my ribs tight. If I didn’t support them, I might actually puncture a lung before the day was over. I had almost finished winding the bandage around myself when my phone started ringing again. Again, because it had been going off since I turned it back on. I had ignored every call. I also hadn’t really looked at the mountain of missed texts and notifications that had piled up while the phone had been off overnight. With one hand holding the bandage in place, I picked up the phone. Missed calls filled the screen. My mum. Brandon. Maya. Over and over. A few messages from Hector sat in the list too, each one sounding more threatening than the last. The incoming call was Maya. She was my best friend, and if she was calling, Brandon was probably right there with her. Those two belonged together so obviously it was almost painful, not that either one of them would ever admit it. Brandon was my friend too. I answered before grabbing my cami. “Hey,” I said, trying for casual and landing nowhere near it. “Why is everyone blowing up my phone?” “Why is everyone blowing up your phone?” Maya repeated, her voice pitching higher. “Seriously? Your mum called me and Brandon all night trying to figure out where you were. Where are you? What happened? She wouldn’t tell us anything, because of course she wouldn’t, and don’t you dare try to brush this off anymore.” My mouth opened, but nothing came out. What was I supposed to say? I had never told them the truth. Part of me had always been terrified they would look at me differently. Or worse, leave because being near me was too much trouble. Muffled voices shifted on the other end. I caught pieces, then Maya snapping at Brandon, then Brandon snapping back. Typical. A few seconds later, the phone must have changed hands. Brandon's voice came through, lower and steadier. “Are you still coming to school?” he asked. “I think I already know some of what’s happening, but Odessa, you have to tell us. Let us help. You’re our best friend. That doesn’t stop because things are bad.” My throat tightened. He was right. I did need help. I definitely needed help. I just didn’t want them getting hurt because of me. I had handled Hector alone for almost ten years. Maybe that had been stupid. Maybe it was finally time to trust the people who had been trying to stand beside me all along. A long breath left me. “Meet me in the school parking lot in fifteen minutes,” I said. “I’ll tell you both everything. It’s time you know, because I need to get out of here.” I ended the call before either of them could ask another question. This was not a conversation for the phone. Words wouldn’t be enough anyway. It would be easier, and worse, to show them. I pulled on the cami, then took my sweater and eased it over my head with more care than I had ever given a piece of clothing. Pain still stabbed through me, but I got it on. At the sink, I brushed my teeth. Then I dragged a brush through my long black hair and tied it high in a ponytail. Once my face was covered again and the evidence was hidden as well as I could hide it, I repacked the duffle and headed back out to my truck. The second I stepped outside, the feeling hit me. Someone was watching. I stopped near the restroom door and scanned the area. The lot looked empty, but out on the main road, a motorbike sat in view. I could have sworn it belonged to Chaos. Declan Pierce. Chaos. The biker boy I had been crushing on for longer than I wanted to admit. Not that I ever would admit it. He was best friends with Miles Easton, and Miles was dating Sienna. Sienna, the queen of popularity, had also been my personal bully since I started high school. That wasn’t the only reason I had never said a word to Declan. There was a bigger one. He was the son of a Pyre Kingsman. The Pyra Kingsmen MC were known all over the country. Around here, people talked about them like they were violence on wheels. At the same time, everyone also knew they donated obscene amounts of money and did serious charity work for homeless people, battered women, and abused kids. The police didn’t touch them. Rumor said the cops even worked with them sometimes. There had been an Assistant District Attorney once who made a lot of noise about taking the Kingsmen down. A week later, the ADA was disbarred for misconduct. That was the official version, anyway. Nobody believed it was the whole truth. Either way, boys were not allowed in my life. Dating was not allowed. A boy connected to an MC? Hector would have killed me for that alone. He hadn’t even liked me playing games with neighborhood boys when I was little. Brandon was the only guy friend I had, and Hector didn’t know he existed. Hector didn’t care enough to track my friendships. He cared about my grades and almost nothing else. God help me if I brought home a B in any class. The one time it happened, it was because I had missed school after one of his beatings. His response to that grade had been another beating. I let out a tired breath and climbed into the truck. If the bike really was Declan's, what was I supposed to do about it? Nothing. Later, I would probably hear about it from Sienna after he told Miles and she overheard. Today was shaping up beautifully. *Sigh* I had five minutes left to get to school. If I pushed the speed a little, I could make the drive in three. I started the engine and pulled out of the lot, hoping the day ahead wouldn’t turn out as bad as I was afraid it would be. ============================================================ Chapter 2: Bruises and Backup Odessa's POV- By the time I pulled into my regular space at school, Brandon and Maya were already waiting beside it. Chaos was there too. Of course he was. He had parked his bike where he could see me, his attention fixed on me the way it always seemed to be. I still have not figured out why he watches me so closely, or why he does it like he is waiting for something to go wrong. I lifted a hand, motioning for Brandon and Maya to get in. Then I shut off the engine. Whatever I was about to say, I didn’t want it drifting across the parking lot. Maya climbed into the front passenger seat first. Brandon folded himself into the back. The second Maya's door clicked shut, she faced me with her arms locked over her chest and anger written all over her face. “Okay, explain. What the hell is happening with you? Why are you talking about running?” I leaned back against my seat, then regretted it when pain bit through my ribs. Before answering, I scanned the area around my truck, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. Brandon's voice came from behind me. “Odessa, what is it? Why are you acting like we’re being watched?” “Because I don’t need the whole school knowing what I’ve been living through for the last ten years.” My fingers shook as I reached for the hem of my sweater and the cami beneath it. Carefully, I lifted both just enough to expose the bruises spreading across my ribs. Maya sucked in a sharp breath. Brandon swore under his breath. I dropped the fabric fast, covering myself again before anyone outside could catch a glimpse. Maya's anger collapsed into horror. “Why didn’t you tell us before now?” “You know what Hector is like.” My voice came out quieter than I wanted. “He tells anyone who will listen that he took me in, gave me his last name, raised me like I was his own even though I wasn’t. Everyone thinks he’s this decent man. He performs it so well that people believe him.” I swallowed, but my throat hurt. “Who would have believed me? After last night, though, I know I have to get out before he kills me. I just don’t know how anyone is supposed to help.” Brandon shifted forward, elbows on his knees. “What about your real dad? Your biological one. Couldn’t he do something? You’ve never really talked about him.” “My mum always said he was some one-night stand and that she doesn’t even remember his name.” I stared at the steering wheel. “I’m starting to think that was just another lie. I have tried looking for him, but if he has no idea I exist, he wouldn’t be searching for me.” Brandon gave a slow nod. “So what’s your plan?” “I have enough money to leave.” The words should have made me feel stronger. They didn’t. “But I think that means dropping out of school, and that was never what I wanted. I wanted college. I wanted to build my own accounting firm from nothing.” A bitter breath slipped out of me. “With him the way he is, I don’t think I get to keep any of that. I think I just have to disappear.” How was I supposed to feel anything but defeated? The man who should have kept me safe was the reason I was losing everything. Maya moved before I could brace for it. She lunged across the space between us and wrapped her arms around me, crying hard. Pain tore through me, and I couldn’t stop the loud wince that escaped. She jerked back instantly, both hands hovering uselessly in the air. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. Did I make it worse?” I shook my head. “I’m just really sore. I didn’t go home last night, so I couldn’t soak in a bath or do anything for the stiffness. And then I slept here, in this seat.” I tried to stretch and stopped almost immediately. “Everything hurts more than usual.” This time, I reached for her first. Maya came back carefully, like I was something cracked that might split apart in her hands. Brandon joined the hug from the back seat, and even that surprised me. He was usually the sort of guy who squeezed the air from your lungs without meaning to. Now he was gentle. Too gentle. For a second, I wondered if he understood this kind of fear better than anyone else I knew. Brandon pulled away first. “Do you need to start sneaking your stuff out of your parents’ house before you leave?” I nodded. “Probably. And I’ll need another truck too. One they don’t recognize.” “Buy one,” he said without hesitation. “We’ll keep it at my place. My mum won’t care. If you need help, she’ll help.” I looked back at him. “Why would your mum help me? I’ve never even met her.” I knew his dad wasn’t around, but that was about it. Brandon's expression changed, not quite hard, not quite sad. “My dad isn’t in my life because he used to hurt my mum. When I was thirteen, I beat the shit out of him. Made enough noise that the police came, and they took him away.” He glanced down. “He’s in prison now.” That explained so much. Why he never mentioned his father. Why he spent so much time at the boxing gym. Brandon could fight; I had watched him spar before, and Maya had too. He must have started young because he had needed to protect his mother. It also gave me one more reason to believe he would be good for Maya. Not that either of them had admitted anything yet. But I had seen how they looked at each other. “If I can hide a few things at your house over the next few days,” I said, “and maybe keep a new truck in your driveway until I’m ready to go, that would help more than you know. Thank you, Brandon.” His answer came easily. “Anytime, Odessa. You’re basically my sister.” Then his gaze slid to Maya, and his mouth curved. “Unlike this one.” He said it like a joke, but the truth sat underneath it. Maya was definitely not a sister to him. I turned my head toward the lot again. Chaos was still watching me from beside his bike, except now he was talking to Miles. I couldn’t hear a word from where we sat, but my stomach tightened anyway. What were they discussing? Behind me and beside me, Brandon and Maya started bickering, and despite everything, a laugh slipped out of me. The laugh hurt. I flinched, one hand going to my ribs. Both of them stopped instantly, worry sweeping over their faces. I forced a tiny smile and nodded so they would know I was okay, or at least as close to okay as I could manage. Maya reached down and lifted a paper bag. “Come on. Let’s get you coffee. We brought you a croissant too, because we know you love them.” She handed me the bag from our favorite bakery, the one I insisted had the best pastries in the entire country. I would defend that opinion to my grave. “Thank you.” I took it and tried to smile properly. Food didn’t interest me at the moment, so I tucked the bag into my smaller school bag. Maybe I would pick at it later if hunger showed up. Lately, my appetite had been disappearing under the pain. Swallowing was harder when every part of me ached, and today the bruising around my neck made it worse. We got out of the truck wearing the kind of smiles people put on when they need the world to mind its own business. Maya and Brandon fell into their usual teasing almost immediately. Within a minute, they were talking about the winter formal, and Maya was already bringing up shopping. I looked between them and couldn’t help it. “You two should just start dating already.” Maya's cheeks went pink. Brandon smirked. That was all the confirmation I needed. My eyes widened. “Wait. Are you already dating?” “I asked her out over the weekend,” Brandon said, dragging the words out while his smirk deepened. “And, well...” “I said yes,” Maya finished, smiling now. “We wanted to tell you in person.” I squealed and wrapped both of them in a hug, carefully enough not to destroy myself this time. “It is about bloody time. Seriously, how long have you liked each other?” “Since we met,” Maya said. Brandon nodded like that had never been in question. He chuckled then, his attention turning back to me. “Maybe now you should tell him.” My stomach dropped. “Tell who what?” Please don’t let them know. Maya leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Chaos.” I shook my head at once. “If I have to leave, what would be the point? Telling him would only hurt both of us.” “I don’t know,” she said, studying me. “I have a feeling things might change today.” Before I could ask what that meant, she shifted topics. “Also, you never told us you had a birthmark.” We started toward the school building and my locker. As we crossed the lot, Kelseiy walked past us, heading in the direction of her brother, Miles, and Chaos. “My mum said my biological dad has the exact same birthmark in the exact same place.” I shrugged, then had to bite down on another wince because even that tugged at my ribs. “Have you tried using that to find him?” Maya asked. “It wouldn’t exactly be simple. My mother has barely told me anything useful about him.” I glanced toward the entrance. “And that’s before adding in how often she lies to me.” Maya sighed. “Yeah. I can see how that would make it complicated.” We let the subject fade after that. Assignments became safer ground, so we talked about schoolwork while we entered the building and made our way down the hall. When we reached my locker, I noticed Chaos wasn’t far away. Neither were Miles and his girlfriend, Sienna. Worse, they were heading in our direction. So much for a peaceful morning. Part of me worried about what Chaos might have said to Miles. If Miles knew anything, he would probably tell Sienna, and Sienna never wasted a chance to use something against me. I pulled in the deepest breath my ribs would allow, then another, trying to steady myself before whatever was coming landed at my feet. Chapter 3: Lines Drawn Declan's POV- Over the last few weeks, Odessa has changed in ways I can’t ignore. She has been easing herself out of everyone’s reach, bit by bit, so quietly most people would miss it. I haven’t. Even the way she moves has slowed, like every step costs her something. The more I watch, the more worried I get. And yeah, I know why it hits me so hard. I like her. I have liked her since the first time I saw her during freshman year. Admitting that out loud, though? Not happening. Not yet. Maybe not ever, if I had my way. My brothers in the club call me Chaos, and they didn’t pick the name because it sounded cool. When my temper snaps, things get wrecked. People get wrecked. I have caused enough damage for the name to stick. One time, I picked up a bike and threw it. After that, one of the guys said they should have called me Hulk instead. He wasn’t completely wrong. I’m six-five, close to two hundred pounds, and most of that is muscle. I live in the gym, and I train harder than I work out. That is what our club expects. For me, it is worse. My dad is the Vice-President, which means I don’t get to coast. I am supposed to become the future Vice-President of the mother chapter of the Pyra Kingsmen, and everyone knows it. Because of that, I have always kept every feeling locked down where no one could touch it. Odessa broke through anyway. Those bright green eyes of hers grabbed me first. In the right light, they catch and flash like cut emeralds. Beautiful doesn’t even cover it. Still, that wasn’t what bothered me. The color itself felt familiar, like I had seen those eyes somewhere before, only I couldn’t drag the memory close enough to name it. Then there was her hair. Odessa has this long raven-dark hair that looks unreal when it falls loose, though I like it best tied up the way she has it now. Her body is another problem entirely. The curve of her hips, the weight of her breasts, the shape of her ass—any guy with a pulse would notice. I have gotten myself off too many times with the memory of her body in my head. But she buries all of that under oversized clothes and too much make-up. Not in a careless way. In a hiding way. It keeps making me wonder what kind of hell might be waiting for her at home. The club has helped enough abused women and kids that I know what some of the signs look like. Odessa shows too many of them for me to brush it off. Every instinct I have starts sharpening when I think about it. I want to protect her. More than that, I want to be the person she reaches for. I have never wanted to be anyone’s hero before her. Seeing her walk into a public bathroom wearing one outfit and come out wearing another only made my suspicions dig deeper. Then she tried to casually show her friends something inside her truck, like she didn’t want anyone else to notice. Whatever it was, it made her best friend, Maya, sob. That was the moment I knew I couldn’t keep pretending this wasn’t my business. Bro code or not, screw it. The problem is Miles. He is my best friend, and one day he will be president of the club. He is also dating Sienna, whose little group has made bullying Odessa one of their favorite habits. I hate watching it. I have swallowed my words again and again because of Miles, but the silence has been eating holes through our friendship. I don’t talk to him the way I used to. I don’t tell him things. He has noticed, even if he hasn’t figured out why. “Okay, man, what the hell is going on with you?” Miles demanded. “You bailed like that without a word. You know that breaks biker code.” He meant earlier, when I had stopped after spotting Odessa's truck and hadn’t explained myself. “Sorry, Miles. I just…” “You just what?” His voice dropped into a growl. My eyes stayed on Odessa. “I think something is wrong with her. I saw her over in the parking lot by the lake.” Miles followed my stare. “Dude, you are always looking at her. What, do you like her or something?” Right then, the truth was the last thing I wanted out in the open. I didn’t want anyone knowing. Not yet, at least. I let out a breath. “I don’t know. There’s just this familiar feeling I can’t place. Her eyes especially. It’s like I have seen them before.” “On somebody else,” he said. I nodded. Odessa and her friends climbed out of her truck and started toward the school. A few seconds later, Sienna came our way too, her friends trailing along with her. She latched onto Miles the second she reached him, same as always. Sienna was a rich daddy’s girl playing rebel by dating a biker. That was her whole personality half the time. Her friend Daphne, all bones and attitude, slid up beside me and pressed herself against my arm. I stepped away immediately. Daphne wore barely enough clothing to count and flirted with anything that inhaled. She had slept with almost every guy at school, except Miles and me. Miles had Sienna, which meant Daphne had apparently decided I was the next prize. “Come on, Chaos,” Daphne said, trying to make her voice sound sultry. “I promise I’d be worth your time.” I rolled my eyes and ignored her. My attention had already shifted back to Odessa and where she had gone. Just before Odessa and her friends entered the building, I noticed Kelseiy, Miles's little sister, pass by them. Maybe I should talk to her. She might be more useful than her brother right now. Daphne huffed. “Why are you always staring at Odessa? Don’t act like I haven’t seen you watching that geeky little nerd.” Sienna's high-pitched voice cut in before I could tell Daphne to shut up. “She’s probably a total slut. She won’t change in front of the rest of us for gym, and she never showers afterward. Makes you wonder what she’s hiding.” Daphne's eyes lit up with gossip. “Did you see the way her friends hugged her? Maybe she’s pregnant.” Heat detonated in my veins. I didn’t believe that was what was going on, but a rumor like that could shred Odessa. She looked too sweet, too innocent, and I had never seen her around any guy except Brandon. Brandon was obviously into Maya anyway. Part of me, a selfish part I didn’t like admitting existed, wanted to be all of Odessa's firsts. Every single one. But for anything to ever happen, this needed to stop, and I needed to get close enough for Odessa to trust me. My voice came out rough. “Do either of you ever shut up about her? She’s better than both of you. You two are the sluts.” Miles stiffened beside Sienna, but I wasn’t done. “You’re my best friend, Miles, but I am done standing here while your idiot girlfriend and her squeaky voice team up with her trashy friend to bully people. Seriously, man, you must be fucking tone-deaf.” Miles's fists curled first. Then confusion flickered over his face, like he couldn’t decide if he had heard me right. Anger followed fast. I understood why. I had never spoken to him that way before. There is a first time for everything. Whatever had shifted in me today, after seeing Odessa and seeing where she had been, wasn’t shifting back. I was finished pretending I could stomach it. I grabbed my backpack, turned away from all of them, and started walking. “What the fuck is your problem, Chaos?” Miles shouted after me. “The bitches you keep around,” I yelled without slowing down. “Where are you going?” he called. I didn’t answer. “Talk to me, Chaos!” he tried again. I kept moving. If I hurried, I might still catch Kelseiy before class. Maybe she could help me understand why Odessa's eyes kept pulling at a memory I couldn’t reach. Or maybe she would tell me I was letting my feelings twist my head around. Either way, I had a better shot with her than I did with Miles right now. I headed the way I had seen Kelseiy go. There was one spot near the side of the school building where she liked to hide when she wanted to smoke without her brother finding out. I cut around that corner, expecting to find her there. I did. She was with her friends, and there was a boy beside her. His arm was around her shoulders until he noticed me. Then every bit of color drained out of his face. It was almost funny. Chapter 4: Smoke and Questions Declan's POV- I posted myself against the wall beside Kelseiy and dug my cigarettes from my pocket. Whatever came next, I already knew I would need nicotine to get through it. A hard breath left me as I stared down her little circle of friends. If they had any survival instinct, they would read my face and scatter. Kelseiy made a sound of pure irritation at my side. “What are you doing here? Did my brother put you up to this?” I answered with a shake of my head and a low laugh, then fished my lighter from my jacket. The flame caught, the cigarette burned, and I let the silence stretch long enough to make every one of her friends twitchy. None of them liked Miles. They liked me even less. Kelseiy finally huffed. “You all should go. I’ll catch up with you in class.” They obeyed fast. Even the guy who had been standing there with his arm draped around her took the hint and hurried away. Smoke curled from my mouth as I watched him leave. “So what is he to you?” Her eyes narrowed. “Someone who’s actually interested in me. You’re not going to tell Miles, right?” She turned toward me while I lifted the cigarette again and pulled in a deep drag. Once the smoke settled in my lungs, I lowered it. “No. Not if you help me with something. And for now, it stays between us.” Her expression shifted. “Help you with what?” I had never asked Kelseiy for anything before. Shock was a fair response. “Odessa,” I said quietly. Her face lit up like she had just won a bet. “I knew it. You like her. I can tell by the way you watch her, even if my clueless brother can’t.” She smiled wide, bright with satisfaction. Kelseiy hated Sienna and Daphne for the way they went after Odessa, and she never had a problem saying so to Miles’s face. I let my mouth curve and gave her a small nod. She sucked in a dramatic gasp. “You smiled. Holy crap, I didn’t know your face could do that.” Then she sobered a little. “What do you need from me?” “This morning, I saw her by the lake parking lot. It looked like she had slept in her car. She went into the public bathroom wearing one set of clothes and came out in another.” My voice dropped lower. “I think something bad is happening at home. Abuse, maybe. I want to help her, but I don’t know how to bring it up without making everything worse.” Kelseiy’s teasing disappeared. “I overheard a little of what she and her friends were saying earlier. Did you know the man who raised her—the one married to her mom—isn’t her biological father?” Surprise hit before I could hide it. Odessa almost never talked about home, so maybe I should not have been caught off guard. Still, that did not make the idea of abuse feel any less likely. “They were talking about looking for her real father,” Kelseiy went on. “Something about a birthmark they both have.” “I was going to ask if her eyes seem familiar to you.” I frowned through the smoke. “There’s something about them I know, but I can’t place it.” “Rule,” she said immediately. “His eyes and hers are almost the exact same shade of green. You seriously never noticed?” I stopped and thought about it. Staring into the eyes of a ranked brother was not exactly a habit of mine. That would have been weird. Rule was the club treasurer. He owned a massive company worth billions, and when he first made serious money, the first thing he bought had been a gold bike. That was how he had earned the road name Rule. And yes, his eyes were green. The same green that kept pulling at my memory whenever I looked at Odessa. “He has a birthmark on his lower back,” I said slowly, “right above his hip. I remember seeing it when we sparred.” The thought formed before I could stop it. “You don’t think…?” “I’ve caught a glimpse of his birthmark too, and I remember the shape.” Kelseiy leaned back against the wall. “He had been with a woman for years. From what I heard, they were serious. Then one day she just left. Nobody ever explained why, at least not to me. So yeah, it could fit.” “How are we supposed to find out? And even if we do, how do we prove it?” “Let me stay close to her for a while,” she said. “I’ll see what I can pick up, and I’ll try to confirm whether she’s being hurt at home too. If I learn anything, I’ll come find you.” The tightness in my chest loosened a fraction. “Thank you. It matters.” Kelseiy studied me with a softer kind of amusement. “You really care about her, don’t you? Not just want-to-date-her care. Old lady care.” A laugh escaped me. “You see too much. You’re like the irritating little sister I never asked for.” “Well, she might already belong to our world and not even know it.” Kelseiy pushed away from the wall, a sharp little smirk spreading across her mouth. “I’ll start digging. You should go find my brother. I heard the fight, by the way. Can’t say I blame you. Those bitches have earned everything coming their way.” I knew that smirk. I had seen it enough times to recognize danger tucked behind it. She had a plan—or she had already acted on one. “What did you do?” I asked. “She may need new tires,” Kelseiy said, flicking her cigarette away, “and probably a new paint job.” Then she walked off, fingers wiggling over her shoulder like she had done nothing more serious than borrow a pen. Her father and brother both acted like she would never survive the Kingsmen life, but they were wrong. Kelseiy had the blood for it. She was too much like them in all the ways they refused to admit. They just wanted her somewhere normal, somewhere far from the Pyra Kingsmen. I understood why. A few years earlier, every Kingsman over fifteen had been called in when war broke out between us and another rival biker crew. Miles and Kelseiy lost their mother during it. Lost was the only word we had, because she had not been found dead. She had vanished. All anyone knew was that there had been a struggle, and two Kingsmen had been killed. CB—Cipher Brimstone—was still trying to track even the smallest trace of her. Since then, Miles’s dad, Pres, had rebuilt security from the ground up. The clubhouse was basically a fortress now, and every house on club-owned land had been built and owned by the club. From far enough away, the whole place could pass for a gated community. I rest my head back against the wall and stare up at the sky. Heavy boots scuff toward me at an unhurried pace, and when I look over, Demon is coming my way. He signs, “Saw you go at Miles and that girl of his.” I roll my eyes. For someone so deadly and cold when he kills—and, honestly, in almost every part of his life—Demon had earned his name early. He was nineteen and had been held back a year because he kept missing school or getting into fights. Pres had been the one who pulled him out of whatever mess he had been drowning in and brought him into the club when he was twelve. Demon adds, “You ripped into him. That isn’t your usual style. But I know what’s sitting in your head.” “You do?” I ask. He nods once. “Odessa. She’s the one on your mind. You look at her the way I look at Pyra.” Pyra is his girlfriend, and I swear I have never seen two people more violently in love than those two. She had been a runaway. At sixteen, Pyra had fled her foster parents and crossed to the other side of the country. She had been granted the age of majority, cutting legal ties so she could live on her own without guardians controlling her. When we found her, she had been fighting underground. She is probably the strongest female fighter I have ever seen. She and Demon clicked immediately, and they have been glued together ever since. Both of them go to school here with Miles, Kelseiy, and Odessa. I give a quiet laugh. “Yeah. She’s on my mind. I don’t understand how Miles hasn’t figured that out.” “He’s too busy getting his dick wet with that dumb girlfriend,” Demon says. “So no, he won’t notice. We’re men. Needs get handled.” “Class is about to start,” I say, tossing my cigarette butt aside. “If we’re late, Pres will stick us on gate duty.” Demon nods, and together we head into the school to find our crew. Knowing Miles, his skank, Kelseiy, and Pyra, they will already be somewhere inside, waiting for the two of us to show before the bell rings. ============================================================ Chapter 5: Teeth Behind the Smile Odessa's POV- By the time Brandon, Maya, and I reached my locker, my body was already begging me to stop pretending I was fine. I worked the combination, pulled the door open, and bent just enough to swing my bag inside. Pain knifed up my left side so fast that my breath caught behind my teeth. I clenched my jaw and tried to force my arm higher anyway, because apparently I had decided being stubborn counted as medical care. It did not. The bag slipped when the ache turned white-hot. Brandon caught it before it hit the floor. Leaning close, he murmured, “It’s all right. I’ve got it. I’ll put it away for you.” That small kindness nearly undid me more than the pain did. He helped without making a show of it, without asking questions loud enough for the hallway to hear. I can tell he is trying to protect the secret as much as he is trying to protect me. Maya rooted through her purse, found a packet, and pressed painkillers into my palm. “Take these. And please try to get some food into you.” Having the two of them there made the morning feel slightly less impossible. Hector had given me the worst beating he had ever managed, and still, somehow, Brandon and Maya were standing at my sides instead of turning their backs. They could have been furious that I had hidden everything for so long. So far, though, they have only been careful with me. At least I have that. At least I have them. Brandon lowered his voice again. “Should you even be at school?” A weak laugh slipped out as I shook my head. “Probably not. But going home right now is not exactly an option.” “After classes?” Maya asked. “Will you go then?” I nodded while swallowing the pills she had given me. When I lifted my eyes, Chaos was watching from beside his own locker, same as always. He never made it subtle. He stared like he owned the right to look, and because he was built like a threat and wore the Pyra Kingsmen reputation like a second jacket, nobody ever seemed brave enough to call him on it. Brandon huffed a laugh. “Looks like somebody picked up a shadow.” That made me laugh under my breath, but Maya, being Maya, had to ruin any chance of subtlety. “Say it properly. She has a Shadow Daddy.” My mouth fell open as I swung my stare to her. Oh. She and Brandon had definitely had sex. The smug little curve of her lips confirmed it, so I punched her in the arm. Not hard. Not even close to hard. My ribs disagreed. Pain snapped through my arm and into my side, stealing the smile straight off my face. I winced before I could stop myself. Maya and Brandon, who had both started laughing, went quiet at once. “Fuck,” I breathed, rubbing my arm. “Remind me not to punch people. That hurt me more than you.” “Maybe don’t be such a weakling,” Sienna said, her voice sharp and pleased with itself. Something inside me went very still. Right. Fine. That was enough. For four years, I had swallowed every nasty comment she had tossed my way. I had let her sneer, whisper, judge, and peck at me like I was an easy target. But weak? No. She did not get that word. Not while bruises were blooming under my clothes. Not while I was still upright. I shoved my locker door closed so hard the bang cracked through the corridor. Conversations died instantly. Slowly, I turned, folded my arms over my chest, lifted one eyebrow, and asked, “Define weakling.” Sienna's lips parted. Then shut. Then parted again, as if she had forgotten how speech worked. “You—” I smiled, and it was not a nice one. “That was impressive. Your mouth did the fish thing, and somehow your brain still looked smaller.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve never talked back to me.” “Maybe I have finally had enough of listening to you be stupid.” Red crawled up her face in blotches. Miles shifted like he intended to step between us and defend his girlfriend’s honor, or whatever version of it Sienna pretended to have. He did not get far. Demon, another Pyra Kingsmen member, caught one side of him while Chaos caught the other, and both of them dragged him back with a silent shake of their heads. Apparently, they wanted the show to continue. Chaos's gaze stayed locked on me. There was something in it that looked dangerously close to pride. Daphne, Sienna's ever-loyal shadow, moved next. She stepped forward and lifted her hand, palm open, aiming for my face. I saw the slap coming. I did not flinch. After Hector, a slap was nothing. After the things he had done, her raised hand barely registered as a threat. He had hurt me more times than I could count, but he had never broken me. He never would. Daphne hesitated when she saw my reaction. The pause lasted less than a second, but it was there. Then she kept coming. At the last instant, I snapped my hand up and clamped my fingers around her wrist, stopping the blow before it landed. I pushed her arm away and shoved her back as far as my ribs would allow without punishing me too badly. She tried to come forward again. Maya stepped into her path. “Do it again,” she said, her voice flat, “and you deal with me.” Sienna curled her lip. “Always protecting your fat friend, aren’t you, Maya?” For one beat, Maya and I just looked at each other. Then we both burst out laughing. I sighed like Sienna had disappointed me personally. “Let me guess. You think baggy clothes automatically mean fat?” “Fat or pregnant,” Daphne said, dragging her gaze over me. A laugh left me, quieter this time. “Pregnant is going to be hard to manage, considering I am a virgin and I have never kissed a boy. Before you decide to make fun of that, feel free to meet my overly strict stepfather.” I paused. “Actually, don’t. You wouldn’t survive five minutes. As for fat...” I caught the hem of my oversized sweater and lifted it only high enough to reveal my waist and stomach. Underneath, my cami hugged close, showing the shape all that loose fabric usually hid: slender, curved, and nothing like what they had decided I was. I let the sweater fall back into place. “Turns out I just have better genetics than you.” Chaos had moved closer. I had not noticed him doing it, but it must have happened when Daphne had raised her hand. His eyes were on my waist for the second my sweater was up, and then he swept a hard glare over every boy in the hallway who had also been staring. A warning passed over his face before his attention snapped back to me. Our gazes caught. For one brief moment, everything else blurred. Those perfect eyes of his held too much at once, too many things I could not name quickly enough. Brandon snickered beside me. “Come on. We should get to class.” “Yeah,” Maya said, linking her arm through mine with exaggerated gentleness. “He’s right.” We started down the hall together. My side throbbed harder now, angry from the quick movement when I had shoved Daphne away. The students who had gathered split apart as we passed, opening a path like the bloody ocean for Moses. Once we were mostly through the crowd, Maya leaned close. “Are you okay?” “Remind me not to move that fast again,” I whispered. “We will,” she whispered back. “Why do you think I got between you and Daphne?” “I know.” I managed a small smile. “Thank you.” “You never have to thank me for protecting you. You’re my best friend.” Her expression softened, then brightened. “But watching you finally stand up for yourself? Hella nice. Took you long enough.” By the time we reached class, Mr Hartley was already at the front, glaring at everyone still trickling in like our existence personally offended him. We headed for the table we usually claimed. Maya and Brandon sat beside each other, and I took the chair next to Maya. The seat on my other side stayed empty for all of three seconds while I turned to talk to them. Then someone sat down beside me. I did not have to look. Leather, cigarette smoke, and his cologne hit first. Maya and Brandon's wide-eyed faces supplied the rest. Slowly, I turned. Chaos was pulling a notebook from his backpack and setting it on the table like this was normal. Chaos. He was actually sitting with us. He had never done that. Not once. He always sat with Miles. Across the room, Miles kept shooting looks our way, each one more confused, curious, and angry than the last. He looked like the world had tilted and nobody had bothered to explain why. I was not doing much better. I just stared at Chaos, trying to make sense of him being close enough that my arm nearly brushed his. He had never chosen the seat next to mine before. So why now? Chaos turned his head slowly, catching me in those cobalt eyes. “If you keep looking at me like that, people are going to think you like me.” His mouth tilted. “I wouldn’t hate it, since I like you.” My lips parted, but no sound came out. Those eyes were unfair. Completely unfair. Had I heard him correctly? Or had the painkillers, the bruises, and the whole impossible morning finally messed with my head? He would not like someone like me. He could not. Chapter 6: Bruises Beneath the Sweater Declan's POV- Odessa's cheeks warmed under my stare, the pink barely pushing through the make-up she had layered on. Without it, I was sure she would have gone scarlet. After what she had thrown at everyone, I wanted to know exactly how untouched she really was. The hallway scene had been replaying in my head since it happened. She had finally defended herself, and it had scrambled something inside me. Sienna had tried to cut her down, and Odessa had destroyed her with nothing but words. Daphne had swung at her, and Odessa had blocked it before shoving her back like she was done being easy prey. That part stuck with me most. She had not flinched. Not once. She had waited until the final possible second before stopping Daphne's hand, and damn if that had not impressed me. Then she had stunned half the corridor by announcing she was a virgin and had never even kissed a guy. The comment about her stepfather caught my attention too. When she said Sienna would not survive five minutes with him, it made one question dig in hard. Was he violent? Then Odessa had lifted her sweater, only to prove how thin she was, and every possessive instinct I had came roaring to the surface. I wanted to haul her against me and kiss her until every guy watching understood she was already claimed. The way some of them looked at her had nearly made me snap. She was mine. She just did not know it yet. Once she and the others headed to class, staying behind was not an option. I needed to follow her. Needed to sit near her. Needed to make the first move toward marking what was mine. As soon as I dropped into the seat beside Odessa, she stared at me like I had lost my mind. I had never chosen that seat before, so I gave her the simplest truth I had. I told her I liked her. “Say something,” I said with a smirk, “or I’m going to yell that I like you and nobody gets to touch you.” She turned to stone. I opened my mouth, ready to do exactly that, but her hand flew up and sealed itself over my lips. Somewhere nearby, a pen hit the floor. I could barely keep the laughter off my face. She had actually done it. Her eyes widened as soon as she realized where her hand was, and she snatched it away. Then she tried to glare, though the effect was ruined by the blush threatening her face. “You’re only saying that because you want my cherry,” she muttered. I could not even pretend she was completely wrong. I wanted that, yes. But I wanted more. I wanted to be every first she had, every last, and the only one who ever mattered. Her gaze dropped toward the pen she had lost. When she bent to retrieve it, the collar of her turtleneck shifted just enough for me to see the marks on her neck. Bruises. Finger-shaped, mostly hidden, the kind left behind when someone had squeezed too hard. Anger burned through me fast. Someone had hurt her. But a classroom was not the place to demand answers, not with people around and her already ready to bolt. She sat up again and met my eyes, and I kept my voice low. “You’re partly right. But I do like you. I want to be all your firsts, Odessa. Your last too. Your only.” Color rose in her cheeks, soft and pink, but she never got the chance to respond. Mr Hartley started class, and the room fell quiet. I knew Odessa well enough to know she would not talk during a lesson unless she had to. She was serious about school, always reading, always paying attention. I liked that about her. At least I knew where she would prefer to be on a Saturday night, unlike Miles's ridiculous girlfriend. Mr Hartley passed out the paired assignments, and somehow I ended up partnered with Odessa. She tried to hide the blush still clinging to her face while he gave us time to discuss the work. I did not waste a second. “Can I get your number?” She nodded and pulled out her phone. After she showed me the number, I started saving it in mine. While I was typing, a notification flashed across her screen from Hector. I was almost certain whatever he had sent was either him cussing her out, ordering her home that night, or threatening to drag her back himself. “Got it,” I said. “I’m saving you as Odessa, bracket, my Queen.” I paused like the next part meant nothing. “By the way, who’s Hector? I just saw the name pop up.” “Oh,” she breathed. She turned the phone toward herself, and the color drained right out of her face. Seconds earlier, she had been blushing because I had put my Queen beside her name. That was exactly what I wanted her to become, even if she would never ...
Not enough history yet to show a trend.