“I saw what she was like with you, before she left. You were her sunshine.”
“Do you feed your sunshine to the wolves? Do you drag your sunshine through a life so violent and horrible it damages it for life? No you don’t. If she loved me, she would have sent me with you. If she loved me, she would have made a decent life for us. She would have found a way.”
“Sometimes, there is no way, when you’ve sunk yourself so deep.”
I stare at him, hurt. “You’re on her side? You think it’s okay what she did?”
“No, I don’t fuckin’ think it’s okay. If she was here, I’d put her on her ass. All I’m sayin’ is that sometimes things get so bad, you can’t go back.”
“You can always go back, Jackson.”
I stand before he can say anything else, and begin walking back towards the stairs. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, what’s the point? He’s got his opinion, and I don’t need to hear that my mother loved me, when I know she didn’t. If some part of her did, it wasn’t enough. I am just about at the stairs when Jackson calls my name. I stop and stare back at him, forcing my emotions down.
“For what it’s worth, I never wanted to let you go and I’m fuckin’ glad you’re here.”
With that, he flicks the television off, then he disappears into the small study, leaving me completely and utterly speechless.
CHAPTER 3
PAST
I rub my arms. I’m cold, and I can’t stop shaking. I hate coming down, going up is always a relief, coming down sucks. I don’t do it often enough to become used to it, even then, I don’t think I could. I only do it to escape him. It’s all I have. I feel my eyes darting around, even though my body isn’t doing anything but shaking. I scan the room; I’m sure I heard something. I scurry towards the curtains and peer out, but there’s no one around. I’m sure I hear phone’s ringing, but I don’t have a phone. I hate this. I hate it. Sweat slides down my face, trickling over my cheeks and down my neck. I shake so violently my teeth clatter together.
“There she is.”I hear the raspy voice that haunts my dreams, and I turn to see Jasper standing at the door, fully naked, stroking his cock. I gag. I gag and gag until I struggle to breathe. I feel so utterly helpless, like no matter what I do right now, I won’t escape this. There is no feeling in the world that could be worse than being completely trapped with no way out.
“So nice to see you’re excited to see me, as you can see, I’m excited to see you.”
Please, just leave me alone. All I want, is to be left alone. I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want to be forced. I just want freedom. Just for one moment. I will fight. I will beg, but in the end, the result is always the same. He will take what he wants, and he will leave a part of me that much more broken.
“Leave me be,” I rasp.
“Coming down from that meth high? Always fun.”
I hate him. One day, I’ll kill him. I will. I’ll take a knife to his heart, or a gun to his head. One day, I’ll free myself from this.
“Just. Get. Lost,” I wail, and my voice sounds high pitched and childlike.
“Now come on, Addison, you and I both know you enjoy what I do to you.”
I gag again, and this time a dribble of bile slides from my throat, out of my mouth, and down my chin. He won’t leave, he never does. When he’s like this, I can fight as much as I like, but he won’t leave. The only thing I can do is survive it. I grip the side of the table, pulling myself closer to it. There’s still a line of white powder on the edge. I pull out an old five dollar note and roll it up, then I grip my hair, pulling it away from my face. I press the rolled note into my nose, and I lean down, snorting it until it’s burning and my eyes are watering. In a moment, just a small moment, everything will be fuzzy.
That’s how I survive. No one said it was right.
PRESENT
The first day at work in the compound is utterly gut wrenching. Though I try not to show it, I am having a slight breakdown inside. I spent the entire morning in my room, pulling my hair up, fixing my make-up and trying my best to keep my nerves under wraps. I don’t know how I’ll be treated. I don’t know if they’ll hate me, or like me, or both. I’ve had many experiences in my life, but bikers aren’t one of them. There’s a certain part of their lives that sparks an inner fear inside me. It’s the dominant, strong, never back down part, I think. I have to keep my chin up, though, because I know that I can beat anything that’s thrown at me. Heck, I have beaten everything that’s been thrown at me.
Luckily for me, most of the guys are good when I arrive at work. A few even give me smiles of encouragement. This surprises me. I honestly thought they would give me hell. Maybe they’re just being nice because I’m Jackson’s daughter. I meet a few of the other girls, or ‘old ladies’ as most like to call them. The two that are constantly around, Mary and Poppy, seem decent enough. They help me out where I need it, and give me a run down on the club and how it works. They also inform me that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the fact that I was Jackson’s daughter. Fair enough, I suppose. Rules are rules, and let me tell you, I’ve been given a fair list of them.
Jackson gave me a run down on the way out of the house this morning. He told me to shut my mouth, do my job and then leave the compound. I wasn’t to go snooping, or walking around, or interrupting anyone’s day-to-day activity. I was there to work, plain and simple. So, here I am, doing my job, keeping my mouth shut and avoiding all contact with the bikers unless they ask me directly for something, which is usually a beer.