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Walking into the front room, I see Tylan. He looks larger than life sitting behind the octagon shaped table the guys play poker on. We may share a home, but I know that for the better part of his life, this clubhouse is the one place where he felt safe, and where he felt he could be himself. Right now, without The Fallen or any member of the MC taking up space, it’s a typical bar type room.

My father is pacing back and forth like a caged lion. I’m sure his skin is crawling having to be in the ‘lair of the devil’. Micah stands with his hands in his pockets as he eyes Tylan. He, on the other hand, pays him no attention.

“Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth—”

“Father.” A rule I’d learned growing up, I was never to interrupt my father when he spoke. Another prime example how I’m not living up to my father’s standards. Yay me.

“Ah, so there you are. And dressed in the devil’s clothing, no doubt.”

“Fuck yeah, she is,” Tylan states with a chuckle. When I hear the scrape of metal along the wooden floor, I glance over and see that he’s pulled out a seat next to him, patting it for me to occupy it.

“Her clothing isn’t so bad,” Micah interjects, only to have my father shoot him daggers.

Poor Micah. He’s always been one of my father’s lackeys. I’m not sure what he thought he’d gain by following my father around like a little puppy. Maybe it’s because Micah’s own father had fallen to many temptations in his life. He’d left Micah and his mother alone years ago. The church helped raise Micah. We took a monthly donation to help families in need, and Micah and Rosemary were always on the list of handouts. Maybe Micah feels that he owes my father, but to me, it looks as if he is living a life my father wants him to live, not the life he wants.

“She dresses in the ways of sin and blasphemy.” His eyes sweep across my body, making my skin crawl in their wake.

I pad over to Tylan, needing the security of his presence, and take a needed seat. Swallowing down my emotions, the feeling of dread takes root within my stomach. I lift my head, locking eyes with my father. “There’s no need to continue on with your sermon. There aren’t any followers. No ears open to listen. No praises to be heard. You will not gain any followers today.”

“Faith is never a waste, daughter. You best remember that, for your life will be based on nothing more than your faith. Your faith in the Lord, in your husband, Micah, in your children which you shall bore from your loins.”

“I’ve finished my finals for college. I’ve been taking classes online. I’m almost a certified teach–”

“Time that you’ll never get back. Such a shame. God doesn’t require credentials to teach his word. Once you’re home, you’ll see that.”

“You’re like a fucking broken record, you know that?” Tylan says. “She ain’t going anywhere.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Have you no family, boy? Do you not know the importance of loyalty? I suppose not since you have children and yet, no wife. Do you see my daughter as a sacrificial lamb? Her innocence appealing to you? Do you think you can tempt her to leave her faith? A life that she was destined to live?”

“Jenni?” Savannah’s voice pulls my eyes away from my father. She walks in, with Grace on her hip and Sin at her heel. His face is hard as he narrows his eyes at my father.

“Savannah,” my father says shaking his head. “Of course, this is all because of you,” he says as he streatches his arms out wide. “Because she had to come to you. Because her friend was in need.”

He continues to talk, looking up to the ceiling as if he’s talking to God. “My daughter is so blind by the wickedness of a pretty smile.” He brings his head up to face Savannah. “From the moment, you were adopted from that Jezebel of a mother and brought into my town, you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side. I knew the day you came that you would cause nothing but trouble. Sometimes, when a child is born of Satan, there’s nothing that can be done. Even that child that is perched on your hip reeks of Satan’s blood. She has no chance. Just as her mother, her beauty will be her downfall.”

“What the fuck?” Sin steps forward.

“Don’t,” Lick commands. “He’s not worth it.”

“No, fuck that.” Sin takes a step forward. “You’re talking about my daughter, you piece of shit. If you weren’t Jenni’s father, I would have laid your ass out already.”

Savannah’s hand shoots out, grabbing Sin before he can advance any closer on my father. His breaths are quick, arms down at his side, fists clenching. The air is thick with tension. When I see Sin’s gaze move from my father to behind him, I follow his line of sight. One by one, the Devil’s Fury MC fills the room, including a few of the prospects, standing shoulder to shoulder in their uniformed black leather cuts. Leather bound, jean-clad with long hair, tattoos, and bearded faces; these men, right here, have been more of a family to me than my own.

I can see Micah swallow in discomfort. “Sir?” He tries to warn my father of our new visitors, but my father waves him off.

“Is this the company you keep, daughter?” Bringing his gaze to me, my father takes steps in my direction. “You’ve always been head strong, weak in heart but stubborn in mind. Your mother always tried to make excuses for you and your inability to conform to whom you were meant to be. You thought making friends who lived outside our faith was a right. You felt your need to find higher education was a necessity and your mother always obliged. Doting on her only daughter, and showing you love instead of raising you with a stricter hand. She did wrong by you. Surely sparing the rod, only spoiling the child! Why? Why has Satan tempted you? How can the devil be so alive within your veins when you were born of a holy man?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being your own person,” Savannah says. “Thinking for ourselves. It’s not the middle ages, Pastor Hoyt.”

The look on his face is one of total disgust. “I don’t care to listen to what you have to say, girl. Your words have no bearing on my daughter or me. You’ve influenced her enough, and those times are over.”

“You’re a piece of work, buddy,” Sin interjects.

“You should be proud of your daughter. She’s the strongest woman I know. How can you not see that?” Savannah continues her defense of me.

“Strong!” He raises his voice. “How is she strong when she has been here, living a life she’s wasn’t intended for. She fell to her weaknesses. Instead of staying home, learning as she should, she had to come and look for you. You make her weak, you always have. No, strong does not describe my daughter. She’s been weak since the day she was born.”

The hurtful words rip my heart right open. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks. Never have I felt so broken, listening to my father spew such hateful things to me.