The Devil's Daughter (Devil's Right Hand MC #4)

Chapter 8

Chrissy's POV

Destiny, it's a funny thing. Two weeks ago, I would've sworn that my destiny was keeping my mama from being homeless. Besides, she gave up her entire life for me, I thought it was only fair I did the same for her. Some self-entitled children may think that destiny is humiliating and I would be relieved to be rid of that burden, but now I grieve it. I grieve the certainty my path once held. Sure, I didn't know who I really was, but I don't think I cared. Now, that question plays in a constant loop in my mind. It screams at me every waking minute and it finds me in every dream. My God, I just want an answer.

Who are you, Chrissy Martinez? What is your destiny?

I didn't know the answer to those questions last week, but I thought that finding my father would magically give them to me. I thought he was the key to my entire future. I thought he would answer every question I ever had about myself. Ha, I thought the man was a goddamn genie. Christopher Townsend is a lot of things, but he's not magical. Now, as I lay in this oddly comfortable bed, I don't know who I am, but I know I'm not homeless and that is as good as it can get right now. When he first demanded I stay in the clubhouse I half-expected all of the guys to share a bunk room and a bathroom with no stall doors. I don't know why I imagined something close to a jail, but this is pretty fucking nice. I learned from Clove that this building used to be a hotel and man that came in handy.

Stretching my sore muscles, I sit on the side of the bed and flex my arms and legs but am mindful of my midsection. Yesterday was a fucking whirlwind which ended in a broken nose, a cracked rib, and a concussion. Someday, I'm going to ask Shorty to teach me how to punch like that. Let customers disrespect me then. Boy, that'd be fun.

With an evil smile playing on my lips I stand from bed as I lazily throw the solid black comforter over the black sheets. I never make my bed. Mama said it was pointless because you'd just mess it up twelve hours later. But now, I have this strange urge to make a good impression. I came in for a crash landing yesterday and I almost fucked up my last chance. In retrospect, I think this is my last chance. I don't have anyone else and I can't bother the Yale genius with my mediocre problems of money and loneliness. This is my last chance at any sense of normalcy.

Groaning, I mentally scold myself for spending any time focusing on the negative thoughts that have taken up full-time residence in my brain. The old Chrissy never cared. The old Chrissy just lived, consequences be damned. That is the Chrissy I want to get back. I want a little freedom from myself and come hell or high water I'm going to get it.

Based on the bright sun shining through what I assume are black-out curtains, I'd say it's at least noon, which is pretty early for me. Tonight, I work the closing shift at the gas station, so go in at 3 pm and leave at 11 pm and like any moody teenager whose life just went in the shitter, I need my sleep. Shedding away my Mama's hoodie which I've slept in every night this week, I take a second to inhale her scent. Keeping these sweatshirts was the best decision of my life. They are the one thing that has grounded me in this hurricane. I carefully fold the sweatshirt and place it on my bed as I search for clothing for the day. After a little hesitation, I decide on a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt as I let my curls do whatever the fuck they want. Honestly, most days I don't have the energy to control them, so I just let their freak flag fly.

After brushing my teeth and putting on an alarming amount of deodorant, I walk down the stairs slightly nervous about what I'll find at the bottom. I mean, it's Saturday. What the hell happens at a biker clubhouse on Saturday? Brothels? Cocaine parties? Am I even allowed to be down here?

As my foot touches the ground floor, a shrill shriek startles me as I'm blasted in the face with something cold. My body jerks on instinct as a sharp pain shoots through my abdomen and I'm sure I let out an obscene amount of curse words. What the hell was that?