Page 63 of Praying for Thunder

Sitting up, since my feet were already on the ground, I turned off Lynyrd. My jaw hadn’t quite recovered from last night’s beat down, so I’d wait a day before encouraging another.

Getting out of bed, I had to listen to Dad bitch. “Every fucking morning with this shit!”

I was fifteen, on the cusp of sixteen, but already six feet tall. I faced him with a deadpan expression, as I sarcastically offered, “I could leave.” I’d been accused of trying to run, many times, but it wasn’t what I was doing. The punishment for the non-attempt was harsh, to say the least, but that’s okay. What I needed, I found.

His nostrils flared. He pointed to my chest. “The only way you’re leaving me is face first under a fuck load of dirt.”

Closing my eyes, I spread my arms and leaned my head back. “I ain’t scared.”

My only saving grace—or curse, that I was still on this earth with this murderous man—was how much he missed Rosa. She was the only Onus Tamer to ever exist, including his dead wife. Him thinking of how Rosa’s blood was in my veins somehow kept me alive. Even though I was doing my best to die.

His deep chuckle rumbled. “And they say you ain’t my kid. You’ve already got bigger balls then most of my man-boys.”

My head lifted to look at him with the blue eyes he somehow believed belonged to him. Just fucking kill me so I can go to her…

The spooky bastard read me true. Squinting, he shook his head in warning. “Nope. You’re mine.” His jaw tensed. “Take your fucking seat and let’s eat.”

Following him out of my room, I slid on my cut that burned my skin. I was also a young Prospect, even though I had proven I’d be the worst Titan ever.

The Wilmington, NC, clubhouse was a large two-story, rundown home. It had a huge living room and a connected kitchen that always had a young and dumb ‘I want to be your old lady’ club girl in it.

I despised the stupid bitches. I wanted out. They wanted in. The double standard made me even crazier than I already was. Not that I didn’t fuck ‘em. That proved to be a whole different weapon to Titan brothers. They despised how the girls flocked to the only blonde in this MC.

To me, sex was just that: a night I didn’t have to use my hand. A night I tried to forget…

Between the kitchen and living room was a long, beat-up, beach-style wooden table. Titans, those not elsewhere handling club business, were eating their breakfast, except for Dad, me, and my nemesis—Piercer. Enough years had passed so that the sight of him no longer had constant horrid images of a bleeding Anita, but that was my only reprieve. This man had stolen my childhood’s most precious gift, causing my insides to devour themselves in a gory feast.

Standing in the kitchen, drinking his coffee, he glared while the club girl—who he’d just fucked last night—handed me a coffee, purring, “Good morning, Hellion.”

“Oh, Tabi, you do know how I like it.” With a pep in my step, I accepted the coffee while complimenting, “I must say, Tabi, you look mighty rested this morning. Must’ve not been a long night, huh?”

Men at the table chuckled at my meaning.

Since pissing Piercer off was pure gratification, and the only power I had over him for the time being, I took a sip and asked him, “Stamina no longer your friend, Murd?”

Another thing Piercer hated? His nickname. A short version of murderer.

His coffee cup soared…

I ducked and came up laughing, pissing him off even more, as the cup crashed into the wall by my bedroom door.

“Piercer!” yelled Dad. To me, he pointed to the chair to his right, at the head of the table. “Now.”

In a cheerful teenager strut, and with delicious coffee in hand, I made my way to where I always sat. “I was just concerned for his medical well-being, Dad.” I pulled out the chair. “Not my fault he needs little blue pills.”

Titan laughter was no longer contained. They were leaning back in their chairs, trying not to choke on eggs.

Piercer was fuming but took a seat to his President’s left. “Your ‘son’ is from Hell.”

Tabitha filled our plates after loading Dad’s.

Dad filled his fork. “Making for a perfect Hell Titan, no?”

Since I was still a great secret keeper, and Ani hadn’t wanted Piercer to know I knew Spanish, and was learning more words daily since living with them, I kept pretending to not understand everything. Instead, I scooped up scrambled eggs and shoveled them into my mouth. Around the food, I asked, “Have I ever mentioned how much Anita used to love scrambled eggs?”

Tabitha, concerned she had competition with the two men she was working, was reloading other plates while asking, “Who’s Anita?”

Piercer was back on his feet and reaching over the table, his fork coming. Unlike when I was a child, terrified of his beatings, I didn’t move. I stared at him as the metal sunk into my shoulder.