Chapter Two

Ivy

"It's not much, but it's yours."

Standing in the small one-bedroom apartment, I smiled.

It was perfect.

I didn't need much. Never had, but this place was more than I imagined. A small kitchen with all the amenities that opened onto a small living room where a small couch and coffee table sat on a nice beige rug. To my left was a door that led to a reasonably-sized bedroom with a full-size bed, nightstand, and dresser. The adjoining bathroom wasn't a girl's dream, but it was functional, with a shower-tub combo.

"Sorry about the lack of décor, but I ain't good at that shit."

"No worries." I smiled up at my friend.

"Well, I need to get back. Frost wants you behind the bar tomorrow at five before the evening kicks off. Wear something sexy. His words, not mine."

"I can do that."

"You got cash for a cab?"

I shook my head. "No. I'll walk."

"The hell you will," Mikie said, reaching for his wallet, handing me a twenty-dollar bill. "Destiny, California, may not be as big as L.A., but we have our troubles here. Take a fucking cab."

Slipping the twenty into my back pocket, I looked around the place and asked, "You sure you need to leave? Thought we could watch a movie and order something in."

"Yeah. Got a meet later, and before I forget, you gotta start calling me Slash, babe. No more of that Mikie shit."

"Why?"

"Cause that's what the club calls me. No one answers to their legal name."

Smirking, I peeked up at him, sliding close, wrapping my arms around his waist. "How about Big Mike?"

The big goof chuckled, hugging me back. "Fuck, babe, that's worse. Look, it's a club thing, so will you try to remember, please?"

Huffing, I pushed him away, plopping down on the comfortable sofa. "Fine, but all bets are off if you piss me off."

"Deal." He grinned, bending over and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading for the door. "Don't forget, five p.m. tomorrow."

"I won't."

"Slash?"

"Yeah?"

"Does anyone know about me? My past, I mean?"

"You mean the other stuff?"

I silently nodded.

"No, babe. No one knows," he confirmed before walking out the door.

"Do you have the money?" A man with a scar running down the side of his face demanded as he leered at me.

I did not like him.

He was like the other men.

The men who laughed at my pain.

"Got it right here," Father said, handing another man a large bag.

"That her?" the man with the scar asked.

"Yeah," Father said as he watched the other man open the bag to see for himself. Satisfied, the man nodded to the one with the scar.

"It's all here. Fifty G's."

"Do what you want with her, but make sure she's taken care of by tonight. When it's done, I will send the rest."

"I'll take care of the cunt myself." The man with the scar smirked.

"Good," Father said, shaking the hand of the man with the scar.

"You know, if he finds out, he will come for you," the man with the scar sneered.

"Not if you do as you promised," Father replied angrily before walking away. Turning to follow, I was stopped when the man with the scar grabbed my arm.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, cunt?"

Confused, I said nothing when I looked at the man, then at Father's back. He never turned around.

"Jesus fuck, Toxic. The bitch doesn't even speak."

"As long as her mouth opens, it works. Get her inside. We only have a few hours with her before we need to get rid of her."

No sooner had I screamed than the man with the scar threw me back into the darkness where I saw men drinking, laughing, and watching while others stuck their dicks into women and men.

It was an orgy.

I knew what that meant. I learned the hard way when I accidentally walked into a room once as Father laughed, leaving me to learn from my mistake.

Before I could run and hide, someone caught me and ripped the cloth covering me, another bent me over the nearest table, spreading my legs. Screaming loudly, men laughed and cheered as I became the entertainment. One after another, they took their turn, not caring how much they hurt me, and when I couldn't handle it anymore, I closed my eyes and let my darkness take over.

A loud roar had me quickly opening my eyes to see my nightmare meet a gruesome and sudden demise. In a matter of seconds, my nightmare transformed from them holding me down to the Devil himself mercilessly tearing them apart.

I'd never seen anyone like him.

He didn't care who he killed. He was there to reap souls, and that's exactly what he did. I didn't know where he came from, but one minute my pain was so unbearable that I could practically taste the desperation and I begged God to end it all. The next, it was as if time stood still, because in that second, I bore witness to the unimaginable. The Devil, with calculated precision, unleashed a wave of carnage, causing everything around me to dissipate, leaving only chaos and death in his wake.

He gave no quarter.

As if possessed by some kind of supernatural force, he moved about the room with such intensity that it was evident a blood rage had completely taken hold of him. He single-handedly destroyed every man who came at him. Men bigger, stronger than him, never had a chance as the killing rage ravaged his soul.

There would be no stopping the slaughter, for Death had arrived.

And God forgive me, I prayed he killed them all.

Watching from the corner, I dared not move.

Witnessing the demise of the last man, I defied my urge to run, transfixed by the sight of my sinister savior standing in the midst of the room, his breaths coming in deep and heavy. It was as if he was savoring the chaos and destruction he had unleashed. Blood dripped from his hands. Hands that just eviscerated the dead souls laying unmoving on the floor.

If I could cry, I would have, but when he slowly turned his head and smiled at me, I realized I wasn't afraid.

I would never be afraid of him because the Devil himself had come to save me.

Gasping, I sat up, and the afternoon sun blinded me.

Rubbing my face, I looked around the room to find it just like I left it. Throwing back the covers, I got out of bed and walked into my small kitchen. Heading straight for the coffeepot I'd set up before I went to sleep. Grabbing the cup I placed on the counter, I then poured the hot brew into my cup, watching the blackness swirl, smelling the delicious aroma that wafted around me.

Holding the cup close, I took a sip and sighed while the hot elixir did its magic. Taking a seat at my small table near the window facing the street, I leaned forward and curled my hands around the hot cup as the light brought my past forward.

I didn't have an idyllic childhood. Hell, I didn't have a childhood, period. What I had created is the person I was today.

Who that was, I had no clue.

All I knew was that I was never going back.

When the Devil freed me, I didn't know where to go or what to do. What I did know was that I was free of Father. I learned quickly who to trust and who to avoid. For the longest time, I lived on the streets, learning everything I could about the world outside. There was so much I missed growing up, I knew I'd never learn it all. Knowing I couldn't stay in one place for long, I traveled around a lot, until I met Mikie, who found me rummaging in a trash can behind the Saint Agatha's Catholic Church where his mom worked, for something to eat. He took one look at me and that was all she wrote. Mikie took me home to his mother, Gladys, and from that day forward, they helped me in every way they could. Gladys taught me about the world I knew nothing about. She taught me to read and write, and eventually, to drive. Gladys never asked me about my past, and I was thankful for that. It was also during my time with Gladys that a man named Father Dominic taught me about good and evil.

Father Dominic was the priest at Saint Agatha's Catholic Church in New York City, where Gladys worked. He confused me at first, unsure if I could trust him or not, but Gladys explained that Father Dominic took a vow of chastity. At the time, I didn't know what that meant, and when she explained it confused me even more.

Eventually, I came to understand, somewhat.

Looking up at the wall, I moaned.

Getting up from the table, I walked over to the sink and dumped the rest of my coffee, before rinsing out my cup and placing it in the dishwasher.

Heading back to my room, I quickly dressed, putting on a black tank top that accentuated my full breasts. Showing just enough cleavage to keep guys intrigued, but not enough to seem slutty. The short leather mini skirt covered all my girly bits and hugged my ass beautifully. Stepping into my favorite pair of black combat boots, I quickly laced them up before reaching for a hair tie. Grabbing my wavy, long black hair, I secured the tie in a high pony, letting my hair fall down my back.

I didn't bother with too much make-up, only stressing my eyes with a little smoky shadow and mascara that highlighted my sterling silver-gray eyes.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, satisfied with what I saw, I headed for the front door.

Grabbing my backpack, I made sure I had the twenty Slash gave me and left my apartment for my first day of work.

I could hear the music pumping when the cab rolled to a stop. After giving the man his fare, I climbed out and looked at the building before me. The same grumpy bastard was guarding the door, glaring at me, ready for round two.

Hefting my bag over my shoulder, I straightened my back and marched over to the big guy.

Standing his ground, legs spread, arms crossed over his massive chest, the big lug refused to look at me.

"Hannibal, right?"

The big guy huffed.

"I'm Ivy. I thought we could start over."

He grumbled, still not looking at me.

"I'm going to be the new bartender. Isn't that great?"

Still nothing.

"You know, I'm tenacious. I won't stop."

He frowned.

Smiling, I leaned closer and whispered, "Tenacious means stubborn. You may not like me now, but I'm gonna grow on ya, big guy. I promise."

Scooting around him, I entered the club.

"Okay, Barbie, it's simple. Brothers drink for free. If they are wearing a cut, they are Disturbed. Everyone else pays. Plain and simple. No fucking freebies. Drinks are priced accordingly. Anything on tap is six bucks, bottles are seven-fifty, shots are eight. Anyone orders anything else, it's twelve dollars. Non-negotiable. All tips you make are yours. However, if the till is short, you will pay the difference. Got it?"

"Yep."

"Good. You get two fifteen-minute breaks and thirty minutes for dinner. The kitchen closes at ten, so be sure to tell Elvis what you want before he turns off the burners or you will starve. You work here, you eat for free."

"Got it. Place an order with Elvis before ten p.m. Anything else?"

"Please tell me you guys got me her for my birthday?"

I grinned when a young man in a leather cut, shaggy brown hair, and a goofy grin leaned against the bar, salivating like a dog in heat. Several brothers walked into the clubhouse behind him. He looked barely legal, but I knew looks could be deceiving.

"Hi. I'm Ivy."

"And I'm in love," the goofy man exclaimed, his head in his hands as he looked all starry-eyed at me like I was his dream come true.

"Damn, I want a piece of that," another said, taking a seat next to the goofball.

"I called dibs first. She's mine!" the goofy guy snipped. "It's my birthday, after all."

"Your birthday was two months ago." An older man with a perfectly trimmed military cut walked by, shaking his head as he looked at his phone. "Puck, leave the girl alone before Slash hands you your ass."

"But, Frost, she's too pretty for Slash. She needs me ."

Slash walked up behind the goofball and slapped Puck upside the head. "She's my sister."

Puck groaned, rubbing the back of his head. "You ain't got a sister."

"I've known Ivy since she was fifteen. She's my sister. Knock it off."

"Fine," Puck grumbled while I slid a shot glass his way.

"We can be friends, if you like."

The goofy man groaned. "Ain't no fun in that."

"Ivy"—Slash smiled, placing his hand on goofy's shoulder—"This is Puck. He's harmless. The idiot next to him is Pinball. You need anything, anything at all, these two fucknuts are the ones to ask. The grumpy old fuck who just walked by is Frost, the club's VP. He's decent unless you lie to him. Then it's game over. The man next to him is Saint, the club's Lt. That moody fucker glaring at you is Indigo. Ignore him. He hates everyone."

Slash looked around just as the man I met yesterday walked over.

"You remember me, right?"

I nodded. "The only one in this place with logic."

The man grinned from ear to ear.

The front doors opened again and in walked the spitting image of Jeffery Dean Morgan.

Holy mother of God.

He was fucking exquisite.

Standing over six and a half feet tall, the man exuded danger. His dark hair shaved on both sides, expertly displayed a black wing that looked to wrap around the back of his head, as a bird's claw gripped his shoulder. The man said nothing when he walked by the bar, ignoring everyone while two other men followed close behind him.

Every alarm bell in my head blared, warning me to stay the fuck away, but something about his dark aura felt oddly comforting. Almost like we'd met before. It was strange because I had never seen the man before in my life. I would remember someone like him. Maybe it was the darkness that surrounded him I was familiar with.

"Who the fuck was that?" I asked as he disappeared down the hallway.

"That was Lucifer Hawk. Luc for short, and the President of the club. The two men behind him are Agony and Trash. Don't fuck with either of them. Ever. In fact, forget they exist," Mouth spoke when no one else did before turning to the brothers at the bar. "So, how'd the visit go?"

"About as well as expected," Slash groaned, sliding onto a stool.

Mouth frowned. "Let me guess. Fucker still ain't speaking?"

"Nope," Pinball stated, taking a chug of the beer I placed before him. "Just stood there and glared the whole time."

Logic chuckled. "What did you expect, a witty repartee? Kid barely speaks to anyone."

"Thank God Sunny and Soleil were there. Thought for sure Bossman was going to blow a fuse," Puck added.

"Reaper sitting in the chair yet?"

"Fuck no," Slash growled. "Bullseye is losing his shit. With Savage back in Tennessee, brother can't do anything, ‘cause he's only acting Prez."

"Well, according to my math, Reaper only has four more months before he either takes the chair back or forces the club to vote on a new Prez."

Logic spoke. "Asshole won't give up the chair. He's just gonna milk it till the last minute. He's enjoying watching Bullseye squirm."

Mouth chuckled at that.

I had no idea who or what the hell they were talking about, nor did I care. And while I found their conversation somewhat interesting, I was here to do a job and get on with my life.

That was it.

Hours later, I heard Mouth shout, "Finish up and head home, Ivy."

"Sure thing," I said, loading the last glass into the dishwasher. Closing the door, I started it. Grabbing my rag, I quickly wiped down the bar before throwing it in the laundry bin. Reaching for my backpack, I walked around the bar when Slash moseyed over.

"Thought you would have left already."

"Leaving now."

"Need someone to walk you to a cab?"

"Nope." I smirked. "I'm gonna walk. Got my mace and my trusty knife. I'm good."

"Never bring a knife to a gunfight, Ivy," Slash groaned, looking around the room, before he added, "Come on. I'll give you a lift home."

Nodding, I didn't bother arguing. I allowed Slash to walk me out of the clubhouse. I could have told him I didn't need a ride, that I was perfectly capable of walking home on my own, but I knew my words would fall on deaf ears. Mikie—or Slash as he wanted me to call him—was only doing what his mother and Father Dominic had drilled into him.

Trudging towards the exit, I was bone fucking tired and my feet were killing me. All I wanted to do was go home and take a long hot bath.

Stepping out into the early morning air, I let the cool ocean breeze blow around me while I waited for Slash.

It was still black as night, but the stars were twinkling brightly in the night sky.

Seeing Hannibal standing near the door, I smiled. "I'm leaving now, Hannibal."

The big man huffed.

Slash walked up behind me, slinging his arm over my shoulder. "Come on, babe, let's get you home before you fall asleep."

Agreeing with that statement one hundred percent, I allowed Slash to lead me over to his bike. Once seated, he scooted forward, and I used his shoulder for support while I swung my leg over and climbed on behind him. Holding him tightly around the waist, I laid my head against his back and closed my eyes.

I finally felt safe.

A girl couldn't ask for much more.