When I’d left five years ago, I swore I was leaving this town behind for good. I didn’t want to become my mother. I wanted to be someone. So, I left on a sports scholarship to ECU and never looked back. I know it’s only one state over, but the freedom of my mother and this town was what I needed.
Too bad my freedom came with a cost. In my second year of college, that’s when I met Lucien. I thought it was love at first sight when I met him at a party my friends from the softball team took me to. At first, I’d been nervous about this party being held at a motorcycle club. Then Lucien walked up to me and smile, at which I fell right into his trap. For months he pursued me. Came to all my home games. After about six months, I gave into him and let him take my virginity. Six months after that, I agreed to move in with him.
Everything seemed magical being with him. Lucien had a way of pulling the rose color glasses over my eyes, that’s for sure. At my graduation, Lucien proposed to me. I couldn’t be any happier, however, I was delusional as they come.
About a month after my graduation, I found out I was pregnant. In my excitement, I rushed over to the clubhouse wanting to share the news with Lucien. I didn’t expect to walk into the main room of the club to find him and one of his brothers screwing some woman together while some of the others watched.
No one even realized I was there at first. To my horror, I was frozen as I watched the man I thought was my everything groan out his pleasure with another woman. When he’d turned away from the woman, he’d just pulled out of, Lucien didn’t even have the nerve to look surprised at being caught. Or even try to explain it away. He simply shrugged, moved to the bar, and grabbed a beer.
Later that night, when I confronted him about it, I learned he’d never been faithful to me. “It’s the way of my world, baby. I suggest you get used to it,” he said. Yet when I asked him what he’d do if the roles were reversed, Lucien hadn’t appreciated it, and hit me for the first time.
That was the first time I tried leaving him. I refused to be with a man who would hit me. I deserved better than that. Lucien didn’t take to kindly to being left and tied me to the bed for a week. I was only allowed up to eat when he brought food and to go to the bathroom. By the end of the week, I promised him I wouldn’t try to leave again. I’d have said anything at that point if it meant being released from my confines.
It took me a little while to tell Lucien I was pregnant. I was scared and didn’t know how he was gonna take the news. I’d been scared out of my mind he was going to beat me. Instead, it was as if Lucien went back to his old self, the one I fell in love with. But this time around I wasn’t blind, I knew it was all fake.
Only after I had the babies did Lucien hit me again. And demanded I do as he said, or he’d take my children from me. That’s when I realized his true intentions. The man didn’t have a soul in his body and didn’t care one lick about me. I had to get out of there, especially after the beating he handed me this morning. All because I asked him if he would run to the store for me to grab some more formula for Corinne and Luca.
Internally I shake myself to stop thinking of all the bad shit I’ve gone through when it comes to the man I was supposed to marry. Turning down the all too familiar dirt road, I can feel the exhaustion creeping up even more, and the pain in my rib cage is excruciating.
Just a little bit further. Please let me get my twins to the safety of my cousin. He’ll protect them in a way I can’t. Or at least I hope so.
Doing my best to focus on the last bit of road, my head begins to feel lighter. And my vision begins to spin. All I need to do is park and go inside. Track can handle the rest. And my babies will be safe. Even if I have to leave them with my cousin and draw Lucien away.
Lifting my foot off the gas pedal, I move to hit the brakes, but my foot slips and presses the gas.
Shit, this isn’t good. Before I can stop, the truck makes an impact.
Just my freakin’ luck.
1
Stoney
“You have got to be kidding me,” I snarl as I glance around the table at each of my brothers. We’d been sitting here discussing the normal shit when Tracker announced we needed to hire yet another set of strippers for our high-end strip club Dolly’s Playhouse.
Name might sound like a kid’s playground, but our place is none of the sort. No, we have everything from your typical dancers who do their thing on stage and offer lap dances to the waitresses wearing simple black boy shorts with crop tops. The club gives each of the girls what they are comfortable with handling. The other parts we offer at Dolly’s is the side you have to go through an extensive background check to get into, the brothel of sorts. Though we get a cut of the profits the girls make, they keep the majority of it. Some of the girls are using the profits to send themselves to school while others are taking care of their kids
