Abriana hadn’t been his woman for long, but she didn’t deserve to suffer because of him. He would save her, and if she was pregnant with his kid, he would make sure she was always taken care of.
****
“Stop crying, you fucking useless cunt.”
Abriana flinched, expecting the lash of her father’s belt, but it didn’t come. They had already beaten her, and she believed her arm was broken. The pain in her abdomen was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
Blood coated the thighs of her jeans, and she knew the pregnancy she had, was gone. The baby that had been growing inside her had been beaten out of her.
If they didn’t take her to a hospital soon, she was going to die. Her body was shaking, and she felt clammy.
The prospect who’d brought her to her father and Vigo was dead on the floor, his brains blown out. He’d been a plant for some time, always avoiding suspicion as he’d been made to blend in when necessary.
Also … her sister … Chantel.
She covered her face, wishing the past couple of hours hadn’t come. Her sister had always been difficult, but she never wanted her sister to die.
Her sister was dead, and she knew Ugly Beast wasn’t coming for her. Why would he? They were not in love. She didn’t belong to him, not really. They were married for a deal, a deal that was now broken.
Her father dropped onto the bed where she lay.
He lifted up her hair and winced. “You know, even battered and bruised, you’re still the ugliest fucking thing on this planet. Your mother must have fucked someone else. There’s no way I’d spawn something so ugly.” He grabbed her face hard, and she whimpered. She didn’t think it was possible to still feel any kind of pain, and yet, here she was, hurting all over.
“Please, stop.”
“Please, stop. Ouch, it hurts.” Her father mimicked her voice, throwing her back to the bed. He didn’t stop there. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back. “You’ve always been such a big disappointment to me. I hate things I can’t use, and you’re nothing but a useless, pathetic thing.”
He got up from the spot on the mattress, and she just wanted one of them to kill her. To stop the pain.
In a matter of hours, she had lost everything. The one thing she wanted to be was taken from her. She would have loved her baby, regardless of who the father was. Ugly Beast, she didn’t know if he wanted kids or not, but she would have loved their baby.
Closing her eyes, she wished to just die. This was all too much for her.
Garofalo and Vigo had gone mad; they had to have. They wanted to put the blame of Chantel’s death, and hers, on the Hell’s Bastards. To make it look like they tried to take their territory, raped Chantel before killing her, even though she was already pregnant. Yes, she’d been shocked to hear Chantel was pregnant, but it was with Garofalo’s baby, not anyone else’s.
They were going to frame them by using men from the MC club, only it wasn’t the full club. During her beatings here, she had learned the men her father and Garofalo had were once part of the Twisted Bastards MC. She was in no state to point out that her husband’s MC had “bastard” in the title, and it seemed rather rude. The men wanted the association with the mafia, and the drugs and power they offered. Twisted Bastards MC had nothing to do with Garofalo, and it wasn’t their fight. Tonight, Garofalo hoped to use the men from the MC he had in his power to kill Smokey and his crew, and use them to make it look like they were responsible for killing her sister, her, the made man, and breaking the treaty. With this show of disrespect, Garofalo could take over Hell’s Bastards MC turf, and he wouldn’t have to be indebted to the club.
She hoped Ugly Beast didn’t come.
She hoped he finished what he started and exposed Garofalo to all of the outfit, so all of them would turn their backs on them. Vigo and Garofalo would then be handled by the outfit, and they would die. She knew it. At least, she hoped they would get what was coming to them.
Would it be so wrong to wish for a horrible, prolonged death on both of these men? There’s no way she could see Vigo as her father. He’d laughed when Chantel begged for her life. He’d called her a whore and slut, and yet, she was still his daughter, and he mocked her. How could anyone do that? Chantel had been in love with Garofalo. Abriana had seen it, even with her black eyes.
Now her sister was dead.