Dirty Deeds (Satan's Wrath MC)

Prologue

Six-year-old Tori

My eyes didn't want to open. They felt crusty and heavy, so I let them close, but I could still hear people talking. At least, I think they were. It didn't feel like a dream. Did people hurt in dreams? My head hurt so bad, I hoped it was a dream.

"She can stay with us." That was a woman. Was I awake? The bed dipped and my body jerked, as if I was going to fall, but I didn't. I was still snug in the warm bed.

Why did I need to go stay with anyone? My mommy and daddy took good care of me.

Warm hands wrapped around mine and squeezed a little too hard. I tried to tug it away, and the touch became more gentle. My eyes fluttered open, wondering if my mommy had come to tell me good night.

It wasn't her, but she looked a lot like her. The woman turned, noticing I was awake and she smiled, but her eyes were red, like mine were after I'd gotten a spanking and cried.

"Hey, sweetheart." She let go of my hand and reached out, rubbing her fingers over my hair. "You're awake."

I looked from her to the man who stood behind her. The man didn't look angry, more like the way Daddy did when I asked a bunch of questions he didn't want to answer, like how all the kittens got in our cat's tummy. Daddy didn't give very good answers to questions when he looked like that, so I didn't want to talk to him. I looked back to the woman. "Where's my mommy and daddy?"

The man squeezed the woman's shoulder and looked away. I felt like neither of them wanted to talk to me, and I didn't understand why they were there and my mommy wasn't. My chin started to tremble, like I was cold, but tears came and I knew something bad had happened. I hurt, and my parents weren't there. Why?

"Sweetheart, I'm your Aunt Kay, and this is your Uncle Mel. Do you remember us?"

She looked up at him when she said his name. I'd heard mommy and daddy talk about them, but I didn't remember knowing them. I shook my head, telling her no.

I sniffed back the tears, trying to keep from acting like a big baby, but my body felt funny and I was scared. "I need Mommy."

The woman looked even more sad. "Do you remember what happened, Tori?"

Tugging the covers tight under my chin, I shook my head. "Can you get my mommy?"

The woman didn't say anything for what felt like a really long time, then she shook her head, frowning at me. "You don't remember anything?" she asked again. I looked back to the man she called Mel, who was looking at the floor when she answered. "I can't, sweetheart. There was an accident."

The man pulled away, crossing his arms. Now he did look angry, and the woman looked so sad. I didn't want to talk to them anymore. I wanted to curl up in my daddy's lap and trace his tattoos with my finger, like I was drawing them on his skin. I loved falling asleep like that.

"Tori, you're going to come live with us and our little boy, Spencer."

"No," I whined. "They'll come, you'll see." I didn't have to talk to these people, they were strangers. Mommy said so. I pulled my blankets close, rolled over, and that's when I saw him, the boy sitting in the corner, jumping a toy motorcycle from one arm of the chair to the other. He pulled the tiny stuntman from the motorcycle and sat there, holding his dirt bike toy in one hand and the man in the other.

He stared at me while I laid there, crying. I waited for him to tease me, to call me a baby, but he didn't.

"Tori," the woman said. "Your mom and dad went to heaven, so you get to come live with us."

Calling the woman a liar would get me in trouble, but I wanted to scream it at her. I wanted to yell it and stomp my feet and keep doing it until my mom came in and told me to stop my tantrum and fix my face.

But I couldn't. I only cried harder, and now the little boy was crying too. He pulled his chair close to my bed and tucked his little motorcycle into my fingers. "I'm Spencer. We're cousins."

*

Ten-year-old Trick

"Mom!" I called out, tossing dirty clothes from my hamper into a scattered mess around my bedroom floor. It was seven thirty in the morning and I couldn't find my favorite T-shirt. The bus was going to be here any minute to take me to school.

My mother didn't answer so I rushed down to the laundry room to double check the machines. Mom hated doing laundry, and had a habit of leaving the clothes in the dryer for a while before finally forcing herself to take them out and folding them.

Sifting through the load, I still didn't find my shirt, so I called to her again. "Mom!"

It was strange for her to be sleeping this late. Usually she woke me up for school and went downstairs to make my breakfast, but today the house seemed oddly empty. Dread slowly washed over me as I turned and made my way to my parent's bedroom.

Pushing open the door, it creaked loudly as it moved aside. Their bed was empty, the blankets smooth over the mattress, as if it hadn't been slept in at all the night before. Had they not come home?

After that kid's party they'd dragged me to last night, Riot had brought me home and dropped me off, saying my parents needed some alone time, whatever that meant. I'd been exhausted anyway, so I went straight to bed.

I stood in their doorway, frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Were they okay? Why hadn't they come home?

Just then, the sound of the door unlocking, then footsteps echoed from downstairs and I hurried down to meet them. Relief flooded through me when I saw my father on the bench in the front hall, removing his giant black boots.

"There you are," I said.

He looked up at me in surprise. "What are you doing up?"

I frowned. "Dad, it's a school day. I have to leave soon." I looked around, but there was no sign of my mother. "Where's Mom? I can't find my gray tee."

My father stared at me for a moment, then shook his head. "She's gone."

Gone? She never left this early. "Well...when's she coming back? I really wanted to wear that shirt today."

"She's not coming back, boy. She's gone, up and left."

My heart stopped. Left? "But..."

He shook his head and stood, coming over to ruffle my hair. "It's just you and me now, kid. Go find somethin' else to wear before the bus comes. You can look for your shirt later."

I gaped up at him, still not understanding what he'd told me. "But-"

"Go!" he ordered, his voice a strange combination of harsh and weary.

"She didn't even make my lunch this morning," I whispered. A million thoughts ran through my head, all of them just as unimportant as my lack of a meal for the afternoon.

My father sighed and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He sifted through some bills and handed me ten dollars. "Buy yourself one for today," he said softly. "You'll have to start makin' your own lunches after today."

I stared down at the money in my hand, unable to make sense of any of this. How could she have left me? Mothers didn't leave, did they?

"Look," my father said, heading toward the stairs. "I'm fuckin' exhausted, kid. I'm gonna grab a shower and hit the sack. You get yourself together and get out to the bus on time, yeah?"

I nodded back, wide-eyed, the money clutched in my hand. He turned and trudged up the stairs, leaving me to wonder what I could have done to make my mother not want to stay with me.