Claimed By The Iron Reaper’s Son

Chapter One Ava’s pov My heart was beating so fast and so hard inside my chest. I was truly scared that the noise was too loud. I thought that every single person in the big room could hear it. It felt like a little bird was trapped inside my ribs, hitting its wings against my bones, desperately trying to break free and fly away. I stood completely still. I was frozen like ice, and I could not move my feet even an inch. I was standing just inside the heavy metal side door of a massive, dark warehouse. One of the motorcycle club’s giant guards was holding my upper arm. His hand was huge and very strong. It felt like a heavy metal vise made of iron, squeezing my skin so tightly that it hurt. He held me so that I could not run away into the night. The terrible view right in front of my eyes felt like a bad dream. It was the kind of nightmare where you want to wake up so badly, but your eyes will not open, and you are stuck in the horror. My father, Frank Wang, was down on his knees. He was right in the middle of the cold, dirty concrete floor. His hands were pulled tight behind his back. They were tied together fast with plastic zip-ties that cut deep into his skin. His face looked terrible. It was already covered in dark purple bruises and wet, red blood. Above his head, a single lightbulb hung down from a long black wire. The bulb was swinging slowly back and forth. As it moved, it made long, scary shadows dance across his broken body and the empty walls. Hot tears burned the back of my eyes. The water made my vision blurry, and I could not see clearly. Dad… oh my god, Dad, I thought to myself. What did you do this time? Why did you do this to us? "Please," my father said in a rough, scraping voice. He could barely speak. His voice broke completely at the end. He sounded so weak, so small, and so full of fear. I had never heard him sound like this in my whole life. Usually, he was loud and full of excuses. Now, he was nothing. "Stone, you have to listen to me. I will get the money. I swear on it on my life. I will find a way to get every single dollar I owe you." Stone Callahan did not move. He was the powerful President of the Iron Reapers motorcycle club. He just stood there like a big statue made of danger. His arms were folded tightly over his wide, heavy chest. His skin was completely covered in dark, old black tattoos that formed scary shapes. He looked down at my father with a cold, dead stare. It was a look that had no feeling at all, and it sent cold shivers of ice sliding straight down my spine. And standing right next to him was Jake Callahan. Oh god, just looking at him made me want to stop breathing. Even from all the way across the large room, I could tell he was a very dangerous man. He was very tall and had huge muscles. Dark tattoos crawled all the way up his neck, disappearing under his heavy black leather vest. His gray eyes were totally flat. They held no emotion, no anger, and no pity. He was terrifyingly calm. He looked like a man who could hurt someone and feel absolutely nothing at all. I wanted to scream for help. I wanted to turn around, break the guard's grip, and run out the door as fast as my legs could carry me. But my legs felt like they were made of heavy stone. They would not move at all. And the giant guard’s hand on my arm only squeezed tighter, pressing into my muscle until it throbbed with pain. "You had thirty days, Frank," Stone said. His voice was very low and very quiet, but it filled the whole room. It was steady and completely final. "Thirty days to give us Two Hundred thousand dollars. You are officially out of time today." Suddenly, without warning, one of the other big bikers stepped forward. He lifted his heavy boot and kicked my father hard, right in the side of his chest. Crack. The loud, sickening sound of the bone breaking made me jump violently. My whole body started to shake with fear. Dad fell over instantly onto the hard, dirty floor. He curled up into a ball, coughing deeply from his lungs. Red blood mixed with the tears streaming down his dirty, grease-stained face. "I know… I know I made a big mistake," he wheezed out. He was gasping, struggling to get any air back into his body. "The card games, the horse racing… the gambling just got away from me too fast this time. It happened so quickly. But I am good for the money! I have always paid you back before! You know me, Stone! We have a history!" "Before was before," Stone answered. His voice did not change at all. It remained cold, flat, and uncaring. "Right now, the Reapers have a dangerous reputation to keep in this city. If people think they can steal from us, we look weak." My stomach twisted into a painful, sick knot. I felt like I was going to throw up. I had always known that my dad had a very bad gambling problem. He spent all our money at the tracks and at secret card tables. But I never imagined it would bring us to a place like this. I never thought it would bring us to this brutal motorcycle club, surrounded by scary men who looked like they killed people for fun. I wasn't even supposed to be inside this building. My dad told me to sit quietly and wait for him in the car down the street. He said he would be five minutes. But then, everything went wrong. They started hitting him, and Dad started loudly screaming my name in a total panic. The bikers heard him, ran outside, and dragged me inside the moment they found me. Jake moved then. He uncrossed his arms and pushed his large body away from a metal workbench he was leaning against. Every single step he took across the concrete floor showed how powerful and strong he was. He walked over slowly and crouched down on his feet directly in front of my father. He rested his elbows on his knees, looking down at the broken man. When he finally spoke, his voice was a deep, dangerous growl. It was so low that it actually made the air in the warehouse vibrate. "Begging is not going to save your life, old man. It is too late for words. You knew exactly what the rules were when you sat down at our poker table. You lose, you pay." Dad slowly lifted his bruised head up. Blood was dripping down from a deep, split cut on his lip, staining his chin. His eyes were wide, wild, and totally desperate with pure terror. He knew he was going to die. His frantic eyes looked around the room quickly until they found my face for a short second. Then, his eyes slid right back to Jake. "Then take her," my father gasped out. Those three words felt like a heavy punch right to my chest. They completely knocked all the air out of my lungs. I could not breathe. "Take Ava," he said quickly, the words rushing out of his mouth because he was so scared. "She is twenty-four years old. She is smart. She is very pretty, see? She can work for you guys. She can… she can work off the whole Two Hundred thousand dollars. She can work behind the bar at your club. She can clean the clubhouse. She can do anything you want her to do. Just please, please do not kill me. You can take my daughter, Ava Wang. She is yours." The entire warehouse suddenly became completely silent. The noise stopped instantly. It was so quiet that you could have heard a tiny pin drop on the hard concrete. I stared at my own father in absolute horror. I felt the warm blood in my body turn to freezing ice. I could not believe the words I had just heard. He had just given me away to these dangerous men. He had handed me over like I was a piece of paper money to buy his own life. He treated me like a prize, like an object, like I was absolutely nothing to him. He was saving himself and throwing me away. And then, every single biker in the dark room slowly turned their heads. They locked their scary, cold eyes right onto me.