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CHAPTER 1: Home Sweet Hell

Betty's POV

“Well, hello there, hot ass chick! Where you rushing off to, all alone?”

I didn’t need to look to know who it was. The voice belonged to one of the lowlifes who always hung out thinking they owned the sidewalk. I kept my head down, muttering under my breath.

“Alright, Betty, just keep walking,” I told myself. “Don’t give ’em the satisfaction.”

But my mouth, it has a mind of its own sometimes.

“My ass is married, you mouth-breathing troglodyte,” I mumbled, way too low for anyone to actually hear.

Another voice, this one raspier, joined in.

“Damn, look at that walk. You need some company, sweet thing? We can keep you warm.”

I clutched my grocery bag tighter. My house was just up the street.. so close.

The group of them started drifting away from their wall, following me. My heart did a little tap dance and not the fun kind.

This was the highlight of my day. A romantic stroll home, being serenaded by a choir of creeps.

And you know what made it even better? The knowledge that my handsome husband, Travis, was probably already home. But would he ever, you know, walk with me? Pick me up? Do anything that didn’t involve him grunting on top of me in the dark?

“Nope. Travis’s hobbies include his motorcycle, his biker friends and using my vagina as a napkin every single night. He'd shoot his load and creampie me, roll over and snore!”

The guys were getting closer, their comments getting nastier and I picked up my pace… almost there.. just a few more feet.

I pushed open the rusty gate to our yard and stepped onto the property. I didn’t even have to turn around.. I just heard them stop and the catcalls died in their throats. It was like someone had hit a mute button on the whole street.

I finally glanced back. They were all just standing there at the fence line, looking like someone had stolen their lunch money. One of them even took a step back.

A slow smirk spread across my face. Oh, right. This.

See, Travis himself wasn’t the big bad biker everyone was scared of. Honestly, the man was kinda basic. But his friends? The three guys he rode with? They were the real deal.

The most ruthless, feared bikers in three counties and nobody, nobody, was dumb enough to mess with anything that belonged to them. Or, by extension, anything that belonged to Travis.

It was the one perk of this whole miserable arrangement. I walked the rest of the way to the front door with a little swagger in my step, smiling to myself. I’d take my wins where I could get them.

The house was dark and quiet when I stepped inside.. too quiet.. usually, I could hear the TV blaring some sports channel.

“Travis?” I called out, dropping my keys in the bowl by the door.

No answer.. and then I heard it.. a lgroan.. a bed creaking and a woman’s voice, moaning and really going for it, too.

“Oh, yeah! Right there! Don’t stop!”

My grocery bag slipped from my fingers and a can of soup rolled across the floor with a loud clang but the noise from upstairs didn’t even hitch.

My heart which had just settled down decided to try and break out of my chest cavity. This wasn’t right.. this wasn’t the usual, boring, get-it-over-with sex Travis and I had.. this sounded… enthusiastic.

I started up the stairs, each step feeling like I was walking through wet concrete.

The bedroom door at the end of the hall was slightly open, a sliver of dim light spilling out. The sounds were louder now with skin slapping against skin. Travis, grunting and that woman begging for more.

My hand was shaking as I pushed the door open and my whole world just dropped straight through the floor.

There was Travis.. standing by the bed, his jeans around his ankles and there was a woman on the bed, her legs hooked over his arms and they were... connected. Very, very connected.

“What the fuck?!”

They jumped apart like they’d been electrocuted. Travis pulled out of her with a wet sloppy sound that I knew I would hear in my nightmares forever. There was a frantic scramble for clothes, both of them fumbling and tripping over themselves.

Anger washed over me.

“You son of a bitch!” I screamed, my voice shaking.

I stormed over to the wall and slapped the main light switch on, flooding the room with a harsh ugly light and that’s when the real horror show started.

The woman was frantically pulling on her skirt, her back to me. She turned around and I felt all the air leave my lungs in one dizzying rush.

It was Lana.. Travis’s stepsister?!

My stomach lurched. I think I actually gagged.

“Lana?!” The name came out as a sob.

Lana had the decency to look horrified for about half a second and then her face just hardened. She shoved past me, rough enough to make me stumble against the dresser.

“Get out of my way, Bitch,” she sneered and then she was gone, her footsteps pounding down the stairs and the front door slammed shut.

It was just me and my husband.. the love of my life.. the man who creampied me every night and was now standing there with his dick hanging out, having just been inside his own stepsister!

I couldn’t even form words.. I just stared at him, tears blurring my vision.

He finally found his voice.

“Betty, baby, wait. Just… let me explain.”

“Explain?!” I finally shrieked. “Explain what, Travis? Explain why your dick was in Lana?!”

“It’s not what you think!” he said, pulling his jeans up. “It’s a technicality! She’s my stepsister! We’re not related by blood! It’s… it’s basically nothing!”

I stared at him. Was he for real?

“A technicality? Are you insane? You’re disgusting!”

The anger was burning away the shock, leaving something cold and hard in its place. I planted my hands on my hips.

“You know what? Fine. You want to screw anything that moves? Then it’s an open relationship. Starting right now. I’m gonna go out and I’m gonna find someone to fuck my brains out too. See how you like it!”

I expected fury, denial or even a fight but I didn’t get any of that.

Travis just shrugged. He actually shrugged like I’d just said I was going to do the laundry. A nasty cold smile played on his lips.

“Yeah. Whatever. You go ahead and try that, Betts. See how it goes for you.”

The casualness of it hurt even more. He didn’t care.. he didn’t care at all.

“You bastard!” I screamed, lunging at him, my fists swinging. I connected with his chest but it was like hitting a brick wall.

That’s when his temper finally snapped. The calm mask vanished, replaced by pure rage.

“I said enough!” he roared.

He backhanded me across the face and the world exploded in a burst of white light and pain. I stumbled back, tasting blood in my mouth.

He didn’t stop. He hit me again with a hard punch to my stomach that drove the air from my lungs.

I crumpled to the floor, gasping.

“You’re my wife,” he snarled. “You’ll do what I say.”

I scrambled backwards on my hands and knees, fear finally overriding the anger. I had to get out.. I had to run.

I somehow got to my feet and bolted out of the room, down the stairs.

I heard him yelling after me but I didn’t stop. I wrenched the front door open and sprinted out into the cold, dark night.

I ran blindly, tears streaming down my face with the taste of blood in my mouth..

I didn’t know where I was going.. I just had to get away..

I stumbled into a dark, narrow alley with my breath sobbing in my chest. I leaned against the rough brick wall, trying to catch my breath with my whole body shaking.

Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth from behind.. another arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back hard against a large body.

I froze, pure terror icing my veins.

A voice, raspy and familiar, whispered right next to my ear.

“Well, well. Look what we have here. You’re okay there, sweetie?”

Oh no..

A second figure stepped out of the shadows in front of me.

“Lost your protection, hot ass chick?”

It was the street punks…!