Claimed By My Father’s Outlaw

Chapter 10

Raine's POV

The rain was still coming down in sheets, soaking through my clothes in seconds. I gunned it, weaving through the streets of New Orleans as though I was being chased.

The speedometer climbed from forty to fifty. Then sixty to seventy.

I leaned into the turns, felt the bike skid slightly on the wet pavement, and pushed it harder. The rain stung my face, but it felt good and real. This was what I needed to forget the mess that was my life.

I thought about that guy from earlier, the Revenant VP. I'd given him my bike to get out of there before my dad murdered him. My precious bike. And yeah, okay, maybe part of me had given him that bike because I wanted to see him again. Which was insane. He was older, way older, and he was a Revenant. My dad's enemy. Everything about him was off-limits.

But when had I ever cared about what my dad wanted?

The thought made me laugh out loud in the rain Dad, the great Victor Mercer. Vex Mercer, as he was known all over Louisiana. President of the Iron Serpents. Feared by everyone in this city. But he hadn't always been like this.

Ten years ago, before the accident, he'd been different. He was not perfect, but he was not this cruel either. That was before Mom and my older brother David died. Before I survived and they didn't.

I was fifteen when it happened. We'd all been riding together, the three of us, cutting through the back roads outside the city. Mom had been laughing. David had been showing off, popping wheelies and teasing me about being too careful. And then a truck came out of nowhere.

I remembered everything, the screech of tires and the sound of a million different car horns. I remembered the way everything went silent in my head after. I had walked away with a broken arm and a concussion, but Mom and David didn't walk away at all.

Dad had looked at me in the hospital like I'd killed them myself, and he'd been looking at me like that ever since.

Isla had only been ten back then. She didn't understand why Dad stopped smiling, why he started drinking or why he turned into someone we didn't recognize. I tried to protect her from the worst of it, but I couldn't protect her from everything.

And then, a year ago, my best friend Dahlia betrayed us. She leaked Iron Serpent secrets to Ambrose, the Revenant president. A fight broke out and Dad's best friend and Vice President died in the chaos.

Dad blamed me for that too, because Dahlia was my friend. Because everything bad that happened to him somehow circled back to me.

I pushed the bike faster, leaving New Orleans behind and riding down the highway toward Baton Rouge. The rain was lighter out here but the roads were still slick. I slowed down, and thank God I did, because then I saw something interesting.

Off to the side of the road, past a cluster of dying oak trees, there was movement. I squinted through the rain-streaked visor of my helmet, then hit the brakes and came to a stop. The bike skidded, fishtailing slightly before I got it under control.

I pulled off onto the shoulder, killed the engine and climbed off. My heart was hurling itself against my ribs, but not just from the ride.

I moved forward carefully and ducked behind a rusted-out car that had been abandoned in the tall grass. From there, I had a proper view of the clearing ahead.

There were women, about two dozen of them. Some were teenagers and others looked older, but not by much. They were huddled together in the rain, their clothes soaked and clinging to their bodies. And around them, standing like sentries, were men with guns.

"What the hell…" I whispered.

The men were wearing Revenant colors, dark blue patches on their backs, clear as day even through the rain. I didn't like the sick feeling in my stomach.

Then out of nowhere, black vans started pulling up, three of them with their engines rumbling low. The men moved fast and efficiently, like they'd done this a hundred times before. One of them yanked open the back door of the first van, and that's when it started.

"No! Please, no!" one woman screamed, digging her heels into the mud as two men dragged her forward.

"Let me go!" another one shouted, thrashing against the hands gripping her arms. "You can't do this!"

A younger girl of maybe sixteen, was sobbing profusely. "I want to go home," she wailed. "Please, I just want to go home."

Nobody listened.

They shoved the women into the vans one by one, and the sounds of crying and begging filled the air. My hands were shaking with panic. I pressed myself lower behind the rusted car, trying to stay invisible. My phone started buzzing in my pocket, but I ignored it and continued to watch the scene.

Then I saw a woman with blonde hair inching away from the rest of the group. She was around my age, maybe a little younger. She moved a few feet away, then turned around and suddenly took off towards the car where I was hiding. She was barefoot, stumbling through the mud, but she ran.

"Stop her!" one of the men roared, and two other guys took off after her.

She didn't stop. She kept coming towards me, arms pumping and rain streaming down her face. And then one of the two men raised a gun and fired at her.

The sound was even louder than the rain, and the woman dropped to the ground, just like that. One second she was running, and the next second she was face-down in the mud.

"s**t!" I fell backward with a horrified gasp, my hands grazing the wet grass.

The men didn't even look at her body. They just kept loading the rest of the women into the vans, slamming doors shut and shouting orders. It was as if nothing had happened.

The vans roared to life and pulled away, kicking up dirt and gravel as they disappeared down the road. And they left her there.

I sat there in the rain, staring at the blonde woman's body, and my brain couldn't catch up. What the f**k did I just see?

My phone buzzed again, loud and insistent in my pocket. This time I pulled it out, my hands shaking so bad I almost dropped it. The screen was wet with rain streaking across Isla's name.

I swiped to answer. "H...hello."

"Raine! There you are!" Isla's voice was bright and cheerful, completely wrong for this moment. "Okay, so I was thinking, we should totally make lasagna tonight. You love lasagna, right? I found this new recipe online and—"

"Isla!" I cut her off. "I'm coming home right now."

She paused. "What? It's like... twelve in the afternoon, never mind the rain. Don't you have stuff to do at the garage?"

"No."

"No?" She sounded confused. "Raine, are you okay? You sound weird."

"I'm fine," I lied. "There's just… something more important I need to do."

"Okay…" She dragged the word out, clearly not buying it. "Well, hurry up then. I'll have food ready when you get here."

"Yeah. Okay." I hung up before she could say anything else.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and stood up, my legs wobbling beneath me. I glanced one more time at the clearing, at the body still lying there in the mud, and then I turned and walked back to my bike.

My hands were still shaking as I climbed on, but I forced myself to start the engine. It came on and I twisted the throttle. I didn't look back as I made my way back to New Orleans.