Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) (14 page)

The report says she fell.
Don’t they always
?

I scan the document and at the bottom in fine print it says that there’s vaginal tearing and bleeding after a complete physical. It makes my stomach turn. Rape. He raped her. One month after their marriage, it had already begun.

I flip through the pictures, watching them like watching a movie, each one more brutal than the one before. Bloody noses and lips. Swollen eyes, concussions, vaginal and anal bleeding and tearing. All photographic evidence of her hellish nightmare of a life. I also notice the light leaving her eyes more and more as each year passes. In the last picture, her honey-brown eyes look completely dead—void of all emotion.

“How’d you get them?” I demand.

“Snuck in when the fuck was sleeping. Held a gun to his head,” Drifter chuckles.

What I asked him to do is definitely below his pay grade, since he’s the vice president of the club, but he’s the best at sneaking in and getting shit handled.

“Retaliation?” I ask, finishing off my beer in one gulp.

“He couldn’t get that shit to me quick enough. Said the Corbin’s are an entire family of sick fucks and anything he could do to help, he would. He can’t, of course, go against him in court, seeing as he’d be thrown in the pen for hiding it the way he did. But he said he’d cooperate with us anyway we want him to,” Drift explains. I nod.

“Thanks, brother. I appreciate it,” I mutter, my eyes focused on a picture of my beautiful Brentlee looking so fuckin’ broken.

“He would have killed her, had she stayed any longer,” Drifter says. I nod.

I know he would have.

Drifter leaves and I can’t help my thoughts from being consumed by my own past. Instead of Brentlee’s beautiful battered face, I see my mother’s. Blood and bruises littering her face, arms, neck, and legs. I can’t remember how many times my dad brought her to near death with his fists, let alone when he would use his feet and other objects around the house.

My mind takes me back to one horrible night in particular. I was seventeen, almost finished with high school. Already bigger than my old man, I had decided enough was enough. He walked in on me begging my mom to just pack her shit and go. I was almost through with high school, I could work and take care of her and Mary-Anne. We didn’t need him anymore. Once he heard me say that, he started to wail on me. He wasn’t as big as I was, but the old fucker was strong. Once the shock wore off, I was able to stop him. I screamed at my mom to go while I held him down. The old man just smiled and winked.

“She ain’t goin’ nowhere, boy,” he sneered.

“Mom… go,” I yelled.

“I… I can’t, Bates. I love him,” she whispered.

That was the moment I lost all hope for my mom. She
loved
him.
Loved
him so much she’d let her kids get beat by him; she’d let herself get beat by him. Nothing else mattered but her sick and twisted love for an abuser. I stayed until it was time to leave for boot camp. I stayed for only one reason. Mary-Anne. My baby sister. I didn’t want to leave, but I needed to get the fuck out. I needed a good career so that I could take care of myself.

In the end, it didn’t matter.

My career didn’t fuckin’ matter. Killing dozens of people in the name of country didn’t matter. Not in the end, not when it consumed me and fucked me up and made it impossible to go back. The nightmares that plague me are sometimes more than I can bear. I’ve buried myself in weed, and booze, and pussy to try and forget, but I always remember—
I’ll always be haunted.

I put all the papers back in the envelope before I grab another beer and go into my office. I take a swig and shove the envelope into my desk drawer. I could live my whole life and never see it again. I can’t, though. Scotty Corbin needs to be taken down. Brentlee can’t live holed up in my house or the clubhouse her whole life. She needs to have her freedoms.

I pick up the phone and call the attorney.

“Bates Lukin, I was just getting ready to call you, myself,” Stan says.

“Got a file I ain’t supposed to have, Mr. Jones,” I confess. He chuckles.

“Lay it out for me, then.”

I do. I tell him everything in detail. He asks me to make copies and forward them to his office. He can’t use them, of course, but what I love about Mr. Jones is he isn’t afraid to scare the piss out of people.

“He is being served with the intent to divorce this evening. Make sure you keep a close watch on Brentlee and Stella in the next few days. You never know when guys like that are going to strike,” he warns. I nod.

He doesn’t know that I fully comprehend what he’s saying. My father drug me out of bed once, by my ankle, because I didn’t put a dish in the sink. I set it next to the sink. He beat the shit out of me for twenty minutes straight before he made me go back to bed. I was nine at the time. I never left a dish on the edge of the sink again.
This is probably why my housekeeping skills leave something to be desired.

“I got a man on the house at all times when I’m not home. They’re safe,” I assure Stan. He hums.

“Honestly, I don’t think the divorce will be much of a problem. He might turn into a bit of an asshole, but I have proof of his extracurricular activities, and Brentlee isn’t asking for anything, so he won’t really have much of a say in the matter. Custody, however,
that
is what I’m concerned with.”

I agree.

I wholeheartedly agree.

Scotty might accept Brentlee leaving him, he won’t like it, but he might be able to deal with it—
but having his child taken away
—he won’t accept. Whether he cares about her or not, it won’t matter. He’ll do whatever he can to win. He’ll do whatever he can to hurt Brent. My poor
tigritsa
is going to have to fight.

Brentlee

“You had
s-e-x
with him, didn’t you?” Kent asks as she plates the sandwiches she brought with her for the kids.

“I’m not talking about this right now,” I say as I widen my eyes and look down at Bear and Stella who are watching with rapt anticipation as Kentlee loads their plates with chips.

“They are more concerned with these chips then what you’re saying,” she shrugs before handing them each a plate. “Go into the living room. You guys can camp out in front of the T.V.”

I roll my eyes at my sister.

“Now, tell me,” she orders as she sits down. I watch her take Ellie and place her onto her little portable high chair.

Ellie is beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes, she looks like the perfect combination of both Fury and Kentlee. I see a little bit of Stella in her as well. I know she’s going to be gorgeous, and I can only hope that she is brave enough to stand up to her father, or the poor thing will never date,
ever
.

“We slept together last night,” I confess as I watch Kentlee place some goldfish snacks in front of Ellie on the little tray.

“
Ha!
I knew it. I could tell,” she says with a huge smile on her face.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, plating our sandwiches.

“I mean, you look happier. Less stressed, and freshly laid,” she grins. I roll my eyes.

“Shut up,” I mumble.

We spend the rest of the afternoon talking about the kids and playing with the kids. Luckily, she doesn’t ask any real details about Bates and me—or our reunion. I leave her to watch the kids while I get ready for work, and I can’t hide my smile once I walk inside of the bedroom. I look around at Bates and my comingled things, and it makes me feel at peace. How on earth I can leave one tyrannical crazy person and practically hop into another man’s bed and be happy about it is beyond me. But I am. I’m so happy.

If Bates was expecting me to carry that Old Lady status he speaks of, I don’t think I would be feeling quite as peaceful as I do. It would come with all kinds of emotions. But the way it is now, a physical exclusivity with nothing more—that, I’m okay with.

“Brent!” Kentlee yells. I open the door with a towel wrapped around my body, in pure panic.

“What,” I cry as I run into the living room.

“I forgot to give you this.” She hands me a bag of clothes and my heart slowly chills the hell out.

“First off, you scared the crap out of me. Secondly, what’s in here?”

“I’m sorry, Brent, I just didn’t want you to get dressed without it. Its stuff you can wear down to the clubhouse. Things my fat ass will never be able to wear again,” she grunts. I roll my eyes.

My sister is curvier than I am, but she’s incredibly gorgeous. I wish I had all those curves she’s got going on. Boys and men have always admired her body over my more stick-figure-ish one. That’s just one more reason why I threw myself at so many boys after Bates left—
validation
. I wanted to be the one all the boys looked at, not my beautiful sister. I was young, and jealous, and hurt, and so very dumb. I shake my head of the past and thank Kent for the bag before I go back into the bedroom and finish getting dressed for the clubhouse.

I slide on a pair of Kentlee’s skin tight leggings, they keep everything exactly where it needs to be and come up past my belly button. I put on a bralette top and sigh at my stomach. Not as flat as it used to be, but good enough for a room of hard-assed bikers. On my feet I slide on a pair of wedge booties. I keep my hair long and straight, and my make-up dark. I smirk after I’ve painted my lips red with lipstick. Scotty would really hate, I mean truly despise, what I’m wearing. I feel a wave of victory at that thought. I can do and wear what I want now—
I love it.

“Hot mama,” Kentlee says as I walk out of the bedroom.

I roll my eyes but it doesn’t stop the smile on my lips. I haven’t felt
hot
in a long time, so I happily accept the compliment.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Buck announces that its Tammy to watch Stella for the night. Kentlee opens the door without hesitation and wraps Tammy in her arms. We spend the next few minutes talking as I help Kentlee pack up the kid’s toys and then kiss and hug my sweet Stella goodnight.

“You’ll be good?” I ask.

“I aways good, mommy,” she says with a smile. I shake my head and hug her one last time, inhaling her sweet little girl scent, and then I leave.

I thank Tammy and tell her I’ll be home much later.

“I got nothin’ else going on, honey. You just do your job; providing for your family is what’s most important.” I smile sadly and nod. I’m not really providing for Stella, yet.

I hope that one day I will be. I hope to be a woman she can be proud of. But, for now, I’m going to keep going, keep working, and keep us both safe. Keeping us both happy and safe is all I really care about right now. Everything else will eventually work itself out.

Kentlee drives me straight to the clubhouse. I’m lost in my own thoughts and not very talkative. When she pulls up in front, I tell her thank you. Before I can leave, she wraps her hand around my forearm.

“I’m so proud of you, Brent,” she announces.

“Not much to be proud of, but thank you,” I say sadly.

“You’re getting out. You’re taking care of yourself and Stella. I’m so proud,” she whispers.

“I’m just so thankful and lucky to have you and Fury and the club,” I say.

“Those other people, our biological family, they can kick rocks, babe. This family, this family is the one that’s going to help you, be there for you, and, in the end, have your back.”

I nod, noticing a fierceness in her eyes. I don’t know details of my sister’s life these past six years, but there’s something that has happened to her, or something she’s seen. She isn’t the same Kentlee she was all those years ago. There’s something else there.

“What happened?” I ask, thinking out loud.

“That, little sister, is a story for alcohol and dessert,” she smiles.

I leave her in the car to go inside of the club and start my night.

I have to make this dessert and booze night soon. I need to know exactly what my sister has been through. I need to understand everything. Maybe we aren’t so different, my sister and me.

Sniper

I
watch her from the corner. She didn’t see me slip in and I’m grateful for that. I’m not spying to be a dick, not really, I just like to watch her. She smiles at Grizz, who takes the offered shot glass from her hand and downs the jack. I can tell some of the heaviness is beginning to lift from her. Her smile is brighter. I feel like a fuckin’ pussy, but all I have ever wanted was for Brentlee to be happy.

My phone rings in my pocket and I slip it out.
Mary-Anne.

“Little sister,” I greet as a smile tugs on my lips.

“I heard you have some news for me,” she says. I can tell she’s smiling on the other end.

“I do?” I ask, knowing damn well she’s referring to Brent. Odds are, Kentlee called her the minute Brentlee moved in with me. Knowing my sister, she bided her time and now she wants details.

“Don’t be an asshole,” she murmurs. It makes me laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t already know,” I point out, which causes her to chuckle on the line.

“Okay, how about I just ask this. Are you happy?”