The Chairman called everyone in.
Following my father's orders, they were supposed to burn off the rest of the marks on my body.
Then throw me into the "pit" out back.
The metal shed was packed with people.
Brothers in club vests, the gray wolf printed across their backs.
Several of the club's older women.
And Joey, crouched in the corner, rubbing his hands together nervously.
Joey was a prospect.
A half-grown kid who had spent his childhood trailing after one girl in town, calling her "sis" every other sentence.
That girl was me.
When he was seven, the flood came.
I waded through waist-deep water and carried him down from a rooftop on my back.
From that day on, he decided Vera was the strongest person in the world.
The day I left, he chased the car for half a street, shouting
