Chapter One

SOLD TO MY BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND

CHAPTER ONE

NALA'S POV

"One more order and that's it tonight," Sue said from behind me, patting my back softly in the same motherly affection she'd always shown towards me.

"I'll try, Sue," I said gently, trying not to sound rude but letting her know it's not as easy as she thought.

"Cold beer. Table 12 is being dramatic. Nala, that's your cue," Angel, another coworker, announced as she stepped into the kitchen, gently easing her tray full of dirty glasses into the sink.

It's Thursday night, but at Sue's it's like a Friday night with the crowd of people waiting to be attended to.

I balanced two heavy trays of drinks in my hands like I've always done for the past five years since I turned sixteen. I moved into the suffocating area and gently navigated my way through the crowd focused on watching football and screaming their lungs out over players that didn't know about their existence.

In between the tables, I dropped the necessary drinks where they belonged while pocketing the cent tips waiting for me.

I dropped the last drink and was picking up the cent coins scattered over the table when I felt a palm on my ass.

No—that's an understatement. Someone slapped my ass, a fucker that won't be walking out of this place with his complete body parts. 

I turned around only to come face to face with one of the nuisance customers that had been warned not to come back to the shop. But that's the thing about nuisances—they don't listen unless you teach them a lesson they won't forget.

"How dare you," I shrieked as my hand came in contact with the left side of his face.

Yeah.

I did that.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see Sue as well as other kitchen staff running outside to see what the ruckus was about, but the nuisance in front of me wasn't done being a nuisance.

"There's nothing special about your ass. It's just like that of any other whore out there," he sputtered, trying to hold my hand in his in what he believed was his show of masculinity. But that's his third mistake.

The first being stepping into this shop after he'd been warned not to. The second was slapping my ass, and the third was trying to manhandle me. But luckily for him, my brother never treated me like a delicate female, and I'm capable of defending myself.

I twisted his arm till I heard the snap of a bone breaking, and despite his screams and the noise of those trying to interfere, I didn't release him till his hand was dangling at a dangerously unnatural angle.

"Bitch!" he screamed out, tears streaming down his nauseating face.

"Tell your mama she raised a bitch, and not just any bitch. She raised the lowest of them all. Motherfucker!" I screamed back at him. But somehow the idiot was able to use his second hand to pick up a glass cup and he threw it at my head. If I didn't move so fast, it would've hit me at the center of my head, but the glass merely grazed my face.

That doesn't mean I'll let him go scot-free. I picked up a bottle close to me and was about to smash it on his useless head when a hand grabbed my arm and another took the bottle from my hand.

Before I knew it, Sue—despite her portly body and her short stature—was tackling my attacker while Angel and another guy pulled me till I was at the other side of the room.

"Breathe in, Nala. Breathe in and out," she said in a gentle voice that grated on my nerves.

Why should I be the one breathing in and out when a fucker harassed me and threw a glass at my head?

"I'm breathing fine, bitch," I snapped into her face, pushing her hands off me. I need to get back to the scene. He can't have the last lick, and if he doesn't bleed before leaving this place like the side of my head was bleeding, I wouldn't consider this a fair fight.

"Nala, chill," Angel said again. This is the worst approach anyone could give when I obviously do not want to chill.

Soon after, some men I don't recognize stepped into the shop. I might not know their faces, but that cut is easy to recognize.

They all wore a black biker cut with different white badge patches in front and a bold skull at the right-hand side.

At the back of their cut, written boldly, was HELLBOUND SONS, and beneath the club name was a more horrifying skull with a cigar clenched between its teeth and a fedora hat on its head while two playing cards were behind its skull.

"Who called them?" I whispered to Angel. I wasn't the only one whispering, with the look of things. Everywhere was graveyard silent except for the sound of the arriving men.

"Probably Sue," Angel whispered back, drawing me closer to herself as if to shield me—or maybe to shield herself. Either way, I allowed myself to be drawn closer as I rubbed the chills off my exposed arms. It's hot as fuck outside, but right now it's all chills. The arrival of these men equals the arrival of death.

"This is the man harassing a worker," someone said from the other side of the room, and all heads switched to her side.

Well, she wasn't lying, and the nuisance from earlier looks like he was pissing himself.

This is the real definition of if you think you're crazy, there is someone out there more crazy than you are.

One of the men—who looks taller and broader and more full of himself—stepped closer to my harasser before giving him a deafening slap that ended with my harasser's teeth clacking against the tiled floor.

Definitely didn't see that coming.

My tired bones were overjoyed at the turn of events. I loosened myself from the impromptu embrace with Angel, eager to see this play out.

Blood was rushing out of my attacker's nose, and his mouth was missing two teeth as he cried out in pain. Tears and saliva as well as blood mixed together, pouring down his face.

Perfect.

I did a happy dance inside my head, the one I couldn't wait to recreate in real life once the MC members left the premises.

My head throbbed painfully, a reminder that it was hit with a heavy glass cup earlier, and I couldn't hold back my wince.

As if my wince summoned the attention of the gang leader—notoriously known as Scar with the amount of scars decorating his scary face—his eyes met with mine.

The fuck?

"Nalayna Brooks?" My heart skipped a beat. The worst thing that can happen apart from being groped and being hit with a heavy glass is obviously when the scary motorcycle club president knows your full name and is looking you dead in the eyes.

"And you are?" My traitorous mouth pushed me to death before my brain could even comprehend what I just said. I barely registered the gasps and murmurs in the background or Sue's worried face.

"Ethan Brooks was involved in an accident. You—"

"Ethan?" I couldn't hide the tremor in my voice and the fear coursing through my body. "Where is Ethan? What happened to him?"