Claimed By My Father’s Outlaw

Chapter11

Raine's POV

I pulled up to our house and killed the engine. My hands were still shaking as I climbed off the bike, and I had to stand there for a second just to steady myself. The rain had finally stopped, but I was soaked through, dripping water all over the driveway.

Isla must've heard me pull up because the front door crashed open before I even made it to the porch.

"Raine!" She rushed out, her eyes wide. "Oh my God, you look like you went swimming in your clothes. What happened?"

I didn't answer. I just pushed past her into the house, tracking mud across the floor. She followed me into the kitchen, where the smell of grilled chicken and rice was coming from My stomach was knitting itself in twists, but not from hunger.

"Sit down," Isla ordered, pointing at the table. "I'll get you a plate."

I dropped into the chair, still dripping, and watched her move around the kitchen. She dished up chicken, rice and some kind of vegetable mix I couldn't identify. Then she set it in front of me and sat down across from me, her face full of concern.

"Okay, talk to me," she demanded. "What's going on?"

I stared at the plate for a second, then looked up at her. "I saw something."

She rolled her eyes. "Duh. What kind of something?"

"Women," I breathed out. "Maybe two dozen of them or more. Some were young, like really young, like... like teenagers. They were being loaded into vans by armed men."

Isla's face went pale and slack. "What?"

"They were screaming, Isla. They were begging the men to let them go. And one of them tried to run, and they just…"

I stopped, my throat burning up. "They shot her right there, and then they left her body in the mud and drove off like it was freaking nothing."

"Oh my God!" Isla's hand jumped to her mouth. "Raine, that's…" she looked around, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "That's human trafficking!"

"I know."

"Where was this?"

"Outside Baton Rouge, close to Revenant territory." I picked up my fork, but I couldn't bring myself to eat. "The men were wearing Revenant colors, dark blue patches. It was them, Isla. The Revenants."

She leaned back in her chair, her face twisted with shock and worry. "Well, you have to tell Dad."

I laughed bitterly and stirred my food together. "Yeah, sure. That'll go great."

"Raine, I'm serious!" she insisted. "Those women need help. If the Revenants are trafficking people, Dad needs to know. He can do something about it, right? Everyone is always going on about how he's the most powerful bike lord in Louisiana."

I shook my head. "No."

"What do you mean, no?"

I set the fork down and pulled up my sleeve, showing her the bruise on my elbow. The skin was dark purple and swollen, the cut still raw and crusted with dried blood. Isla's eyes went wide with shock immediately.

"Dad did that to me this morning," I muttered. "He caught me kissing the Revenant VP."

Her mouth fell open. "You WHAT?"

"It's a long story, Isla!" I retorted. "But the point is, Dad grabbed my arm and threatened to sell me for a hundred bucks if I ever disrespected him again, all because I kissed a man. I'm twenty five, for f**k's sake. I can kiss whoever I damn well please!"

I sighed and pushed a forkful of rice into my mouth. "So no, Isla, I'm not going to him with this."

She stared at me all stunned, then her expression shifted into sadness. "Raine…"

"Forget it," I waved her with a flippant hand. "I'm not doing it."

"Then I'll go with you," she offered. "I'll come with you to Dad. He listens to me. You know he always does. And if things get out of hand, I'll step in and I won't let him hurt you again."

I looked at her, this twenty-year-old girl with her hopeful eyes and her ridiculous optimism. She actually thought she could fix this. She thought she could fix Dad, who was broken beyond repair.

"Isla, it's not that simple—"

"Yes, it is," she interrupted. "Those women don't have time for us to sit around being scared of Dad. If the Revenants are doing this, someone has to stop them. And Dad is the only one who is powerful enough to actually do it."

I wanted to argue and tell her she was being naive, that Dad wouldn't listen, that he'd probably just find a way to make this my fault too. But the image of that blonde woman's body wouldn't leave my head, the way she'd dropped to the ground like a limp rag doll.

That image would stick with me for as long as I had breath in my lungs.

"Sure. Alright."

Isla nodded, relief flooding her face. "Okay, great."

I stabbed a piece of chicken and shoved it into my mouth, chewing without tasting. My hands were still shaking, but at least I wasn't going to do this alone. Isla was right about one thing: she knew how to mediate things between myself and our dad, and our dad always listened to her.

I couldn't sit still for the rest of the day. I paced my room, scrolled through bike part listings on my phone without actually reading them, stared at the ceiling, wondered about the ten thousand dollars alert I got, but absolutely nothing helped. The image of that woman's body kept flashing in my head, over and over. It felt like a broken record that I couldn't turn off.

I hadn't even locked up the garage before I left. The door was probably still wide open, tools scattered everywhere. I didn't care. People could go in and steal stuff, and I didn't care.

I was lying on my bed with my phone in hand, pretending to compare prices for brake pads when I heard Dad's voice downstairs, and Isla's lighter, airer voice following his.