Highway Demons MC

The cement floor I’m lying on is cold. I shiver and try to ignore the black spots forming in my vision. My whole body hurts, and I let out a small whimper. The welts on my legs are infected, and pus is dripping from them. I know I need a doctor, but Sir only calls one when the wounds are life-threatening.I hate Sir, my master, my torturer. The middle-aged man who brought me to this huge house when I was only five years old. Took me out of the overpopulated orphanage that was more than happy to let him take a child off their hands. He stole everything from me... my life, my freedom, my innocence... the moment I stepped foot into this house.A child screams in the distance, and I try to detach myself from the sound. I know what’s happening. I know it’ll be my turn again soon, once I’ve healed a bit more. The screaming gets closer, the voice growing weaker until it turns into soft sobs. This girl must be new... she sounds young. I feel pity, but a darker part of me is relieved. Another

It’s kind of funny, seeing the supposedly scary man in front of me turn into a statue after I told him he was my big brother. Still, I keep my stone-cold mask on and glare at him.After a minute or so, he recovers and glares back.“I don’t have a sister.”Too bad he doesn’t sound very convinced by his own words. He should work on that.“Yeah, well, like I said... that’s what I’ve been told. If you want, we can do a fucking DNA test. Just to be sure.”I’m not 100% convinced either, even though we do have the same eyes.He’s a big man, a handsome one, with a dark and dangerous air about him. Dark hair, a medium-length beard, and an old-school mustache that suits him surprisingly well.“As far as I know, I don’t have a daughter.”A deep, cold voice suddenly cuts through from somewhere behind the line of big bikers. I take a step back so I can see past my brother and find another huge man staring daggers at me.He’s older, with salt-and-pepper hair. If this is my father, then damn, he’s a

I’ve never had such an overwhelming breakfast as this one. There are at least forty people in the kitchen, talking over one another, swearing, cursing, yelling. I’m not used to so much noise while eating, and I want to leave.I also feel someone staring holes through me. It’s been like that since I first got here, and it's getting on my last nerve. I know who it is... I’ve caught him more than once. The handsome-as-hell, tall, dark biker.Piercing brown eyes, dark brown hair, and a beard that’s absurdly attractive and suits him perfectly. His whole body is covered in black and grey tattoos, along with some piercings. He’s a feast for the eyes, but I don’t like the feeling of being stalked, thank you very much.I finish my breakfast and get up from my seat. Instead of doing what I normally do, going to my room and spending most of my time there, I walk over to my “stalker.”“Stop fucking looking at me.” I stand before him. God Almighty, he’s taller than I thought. I have to strain my n

I expected to wake up on the cold floor, but instead, I feel a warm, hard surface, with a heartbeat?I turn my head and see the handsome Killer. He’s asleep. And fucking beautiful.Wait… why the hell is he here?I shoot up and look around. Yeah, this is still my room, and this is still my bed. So why is he here? Is he a psycho or something?“Hey.” I shake him, trying to wake the big giant who’s taken over my bed. “Dude, what the fuck? Wake up. What are you doing here?” I shake him harder.Without warning, a fist comes flying toward me. I'm lucky I have quick reflexes, or he would’ve pounded my face flat.“WHAT THE HELL, DUDE?!”His eyes open, a faraway look in them, then he blinks. “The fuck…” he grunts.“Yeah, uh, that’s my question. What are you doing in my bed?” I ask as he moves and gets off it.“You were having a nightmare, so I checked on you. You were lying on the floor, and when I tried to move you, you wouldn’t let me go.”Killer talks with his back to me as he grabs his clot

My sleep is interrupted by a loud bang. Disoriented, I get up from the cold floor and look around. I'm surrounded by darkness and cold, as always. I try to stand, but my body is still freshly cut from the lashes I received the night, or day, before.“Something is happening,” I hear my friend whisper.I named her Haru when I first started talking to her. I still remember her crying from happiness when I gave her a name. She had been here so long she’d forgotten her own. Sir only calls us "Doll."I try to make my way to the wall that connects me to Haru’s cell, but it's a difficult task. After what feels like an eternity, I finally feel the cold wall against my forehead. I turn and rest my cut-up back against it. The chill soothes the burn, and my muscles relax slightly. The pain has dulled over the years, not because Sir punishes me less, but because I’ve built up endurance. Not that it’s in my favor. I preferred fainting over staying awake.Footsteps echo down the hall, and my heart b