Six Brothers

One

Some people would call me a whore. A girl who sold her soul to the devil. Who let him inside her, with no remorse. Who danced with the monster who destroyed everything.

To those people, I say only this: I didn’t have to sell Dornan Ross my soul. He already owned it. And once I’ve killed him, maybe I can get it back.

When I think about life before Juliette Portland supposedly died, I think of the midday sun, and the way it caught the water, making a million tiny diamonds glisten in the Venice Beach waves. I think of laughter and first kisses, of ice cream, stolen beer, and Ferris wheels.

I think of how much I loved Jason Ross, and how valiantly he fought to protect me when the rest of his family were beating and fucking me to within an inch of my life.

I think about my father, and how whenever he was near, I felt safe, no matter what.

I think about my mother, and how indifferent she was to my existence, to the point where my father was going to take me away from everything, including her, so that we could have a life free of the constant danger that a club like the Gypsy Brothers meant.

I think of how, if he had succeeded, what a wonderful life that would have been.

It’s true what they say—keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Only, they forgot to add: Don’t keep your enemies so close that they can strike without warning. That was my father’s mistake. That was our fatal undoing.

When I was planning my revenge, I vowed not to make the same mistakes he did. Allowing the enemy too close—Dornan was VP of the club, my father had been the President, but he had been quickly losing control as Dornan and his sons outnumbered him.

I remember my final moments, before I blacked out, when Chad and Maxi were loading me into the back of a van to get me to the hospital.

“Why don’t we just finish her and be done with it?” Chad asked his father as he struggled with my nearly dead weight.

Dornan smacked the back of his eldest son’s head and pointed to me, beaten, covered in blood, one of my eyes swollen shut and the other cracked open enough to see where they were taking me.

“We can’t fucking kill her,” Dornan spat. “She knows where the money is.”

“What money?” Maxi asked.

Dornan sighed. “Don’t you boys fucking listen? The mil her daddy embezzled from this club while I was busy with you boys and your fucking mothers these past years.”

Chad whistled, dropping me into the back of a van like a sack of soggy potatoes. “That’s a lot of money.”

I whimpered as my head connected with a hard floor.

“It is, son,” Dornan agreed. “But it’s not about the amount. It’s about the principle, you understand?”

Chad nodded. “You don’t steal from your own club.”

“That’s right. Now get this bitch to the hospital so we can find out what the fuck they did with my money.”

“And then?”

I shivered, watching them from my spot on the dirty floor of the van.

Dornan sighed. “And then we finish her.”

I vowed not to make the same mistakes my father did. But here, now, laying pinned beneath Dornan as he fills me with his rage and grief, his eldest son dead by my hand and the funeral in just a few hours, I have to wonder if I’m heading down the exact path that led to our destruction all those years ago.