Filthy Devil
A Dark Bratva Romance
Chapter 1
Evie
Yet again I think about how easy it would be to push my dad down the stairs. His drunk ass wouldn’t even know what hit him. There would be nothing but a startled cry, shit-brown eyes wide with fear, and then he’d be gone. The only thing left to hurt me would be the stench of his rotten breath until not even that would remain
And then I’d finally be free.
I push the temptation aside when a wave of guilt hits me, not so much because I actually feel bad about my thoughts, but more because it’s the same way my mom died, and I’m pretty sure it’s because he did the exact same thing I’m contemplating. I refuse to be like him. We may share DNA, but that’s where it ends. I’m nothing like the bastard.
“Get out of the way, girl,” he slurs, pushing me aside and stumbling toward his bedroom. He has no idea how close he just came to death, and hopefully he’ll never pick up on my homicidal thoughts because the man is a mean drunk. I have enough bruises from him. I don’t need any more.
I watch his clumsy walk down the hall before he disappears out of view. He’ll be sleeping it off for the night. Just a typical Tuesday at the Finch house. With a heavy sigh that sounds like it belongs to a ninety-year-old instead of a soon-to-be twenty-one-year-old, I head downstairs, grabbing my bag from the counter on the way out the door.
My dad’s pride and joy sits in the driveway. The black Ford F-150 is waxed and shining, making our small, dirty-white house stand out even more. The neighborhood is rundown, but our house is definitely the saddest on the street. It used to embarrass the hell out of me when I was younger. Now I’m just used to it, I guess. One more embarrassment to add to the ever-growing list.
Instead of taking the truck that would make my life a hell of a lot easier, I take to the sidewalk, following it down to the bus stop at the end of the street. It’s already dark, making it seem even more ominous than usual. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t choose to walk these streets after the sun sets, but not all of us get options in life. Some of us are just born into shit situations that we have to spend the rest of our lives trying to crawl the fuck out of.
The rumble of a motorcycle has me freezing in place. I grip the strap of my bag tighter and duck my head, hoping like hell it’s not who I think it is. The closer it gets, the more I curl into myself.
“Evie!”
I pretend I don’t hear anything, but when he drives the huge motorcycle onto the sidewalk in front of me, I have no choice but to acknowledge his presence. As I lift my eyes, I catch sight of the mermaid with the blue tail that’s painted on his gas tank, the one with the enormous bare tits. The image just screamsI’m a real classy guy and one hell of a catch.
“I’m going to miss my bus, Lyle,” I say and try to step around him.
“Why were you ignoring me?”
He’s not wearing a helmet, and I really wish he was because now there’s nothing hiding his long, stringy hair and old, wrinkled face. Old isn’t exactly accurate. Lyle’s my dad’s friend, and he’s only in his late forties, but his life choices have aged him, so has hisdamn the manattitude about wearing a helmet. Deep wrinkles are etched into his weathered face, and his skin looks so sun damaged that I’m pretty sure he’s sporting skin cancer in more than one spot. To make matters worse, his bottom lip puckers out from the huge wad of chewing tobacco he’s sucking on. When he spits out a long string of brown juice, I have to force myself to not dry heave.
“I’m not ignoring you. I just need to catch the bus or I’ll be late for work.”
“Hop on. I can take you.”
“No thanks,” I tell him, because no way in fuck am I getting on the back of his bike, pressing my body up against his, and wrapping my arms around his giant beer gut. No fucking thanks. Ever since I hit puberty, Lyle’s given me looks that make me feel like there will never be enough layers of clothing between me and him. Even in my work coveralls, he eyes me like he’s picturing me naked.
Fucking pervert.
I walk around his bike and pick up my pace, seeing the bus’s headlights turning the corner.
“Pretty little girl like you shouldn’t be walking the streets alone,” he hollers over his idling motor. “All kinds of dangerous men out there.”
When I turn back to look at him, he gives me a wink and revs his engine. I push my glasses back up when they start to slip and run for the bus. I swear I hear him laughing behind me, but I don’t turn back to check.
“Pushing it kinda close tonight, sweetheart,” Gale says, swinging the doors shut behind me.
“I know,” I pant, taking the seat right behind her.
She shakes her head, turning the bus down the next street and picking up speed. “You know I’m not allowed to wait if you’re not here, and that guilt would eat me up, honey.”
I smile and pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, even if I do miss the bus.”
She just shakes her head again and starts to hum so low I can barely hear it. Gale’s been driving this bus for as long as I can remember. She’s been taking me to and from work ever since I turned thirteen and convinced someone to hire me. It was just a job at a car wash for a few hours every day, and the pay was shit and under the table since legally I couldn’t be employed, but it was still my first taste of freedom, and it ensured I had enough to buy some groceries. My dad was always forgetting to go to the store. As long as he had his beer, he didn’t really care about anything else. He was more than happy to drink his supper. Gale used to save me half her lunch, telling me she was trying to lose weight and that I’d be doing her a big favor by eating it for her. Even then, I knew she was just trying to make it seem like I wasn’t getting handouts, but I was too hungry to say no. She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and if I ever win the lotto, I’m giving her a huge chunk of it.
The bus bounces along the pot-holed streets until we reach the highway and things smooth out as we head further into the city. Traffic picks up when we hit the downtown area, and I read the neon signs as we pass them. So many clubs and bars, all the places people my age should be going to, and I’ve never been to a single damn one of them.
