Tears burn down my cheeks. I jerk hard enough that he releases me, but I’m trapped between him and my car. “Necessary? You call this necessary?” My chest seizes so tight I can’t pull in air. “Do you enjoy hurting people like that?”
“He’s a fuckin’ piece of shit scumbag who does far worse than I have ever done to him. I don’t hurt innocent people, Violet.”
“Oh, so that makes it okay?”
“Never said it was okay, but it’s part of what we do.”
“He is hanging from a fucking hook,” I whisper. “What is wrong with you?”
He flinches as though struck. I notice his hands covered in streaks of red blood. I shudder.
“Don’t do this,” he pleads, voice raw. “I can’t make you understand, but I have always done my best to keep you away from this, Violet.”
I taste bile. “Is this why Mom left? Because she couldn’t bear it?”
He flinches, and pain washes over his face.
He doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t need to.
His silence is the answer.
My lip quivers. I scrub at my face with the back of my hand. “I should go.”
He reaches out, just a pure impulse, but I duck away and tumble into the driver’s seat. The engine roars to life. Tires spin, gravel flies, and I’m gone before he can call my name again.
On the road, the image of the hook protruding out of that man’s flesh haunts me. My heart pounds so ferociously I’msure it could shatter my ribs. I think of Mom and how brave she must’ve been to walk away, and how terrified. I pull over, needing to breathe, and press my forehead against the steering wheel, eyes closed, racing to leave the nightmare far behind.
I knew my dad was dangerous, but I never knew the club life was so violent.
My mother protected me, I know she did, and now it makes sense why she left. I know it isn’t the only reason, but I do know it was a big part of it.
She didn’t want me to see that side of him.
She didn’t want my heart to break just like hers did.
“OH MY GOD, WOULD YOUlook at this plane!” I exclaim, my voice breathy with excitement as I lean into Reagan, my eyes wide with disbelief. The luxurious interior is nothing like I’ve ever seen—all plush leather and polished wood, screaming opulence and comfort.
A good distraction from today’s events.
I didn’t tell Travis what I saw, because I have no doubt that it is something he has probably witnessed and I don’t want to get into it. Not this weekend. Not ever, probably. I just want to forget what I saw. I know my father is part of a world I don’t understand, but it still shook me to see that.
Travis chuckles, a low, throaty sound that snaps me out of my thoughts. His bandmates join in, their laughter filling the cabin. The only one not amused is the receptionist, her nose wrinkled like she’s smelled something sour.
“Why did she have to come again?” I mutter to Travis, casting a glare her way.
He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “I have no idea. Think she’s fucking Marcus. I need her for work, too.”
“Of course,” I huff.
Travis slaps my bottom, shooting me a grin that sends shivers up my spine before walking toward his bandmates at the back of the plane while Reagan and I get comfortable. Reagan leans in, her voice low. “I can’t get enough of him. You’re going to have to live with the fact that I have wicked sex dreams about your boyfriend.”
I shove her playfully, a giggle bubbling up from my throat. “I could give you just a touch of an idea what he’s like in bed.”
Reagan’s eyes widen with excitement. “Do tell, I need some actual visuals.”
I lean in and whisper things in her ear that aren’t fit for nearby ears. She gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth and then bursting into a fit of fanning her face and sighing. “What are you two gossiping about?” I spin around to see Travis leaning against the seat behind us, a devilish grin on his face. My cheeks flush with heat, and Reagan sputters her drink.