Page 1 of Trick

CHAPTER 1

TRICK

Iwake swallowing a scream.

My heart batters against my ribs as I jackknife upright, the last wisps of the nightmare I was trapped in dissipating like smoke.

Fumbling for the lamp on the bedside table, my shoulders slump as the light chases the shadows away but not the demons.

There’s no cure for them.

It’s been thirteen months since they murdered my wife, and four weeks since I moved back into the house we’d bought to raise our family in.

While the rawness of my loss has faded to a dull ache, it still remains. Colours are faded and things that used to bring me joy no longer excite me. The only reason I get up every day and fight is the little girl sleeping down the hallway. I owe my daughter everything I can give her and more.

I’m not proud of the things I’ve done. For a time, I couldn’t acknowledge Sophia’s existence, too afraid that if I did, I’d poison her with the filth covering me. My inability to be a good father pissed off a lot of people, especially Heidi.

She was once a part of this club, a fucking important part, and not just because she was the old lady of one of our brothers, Crow. He was murdered a few years back, jumped by a low level gang who wanted to prove a point about who ran this city. We hunted those fuckers down, killed every single one of them, but it was too late for Heidi. Her grief made her angry. She blamed us for the death of her husband and she retreated. The shit thing is we let her do that. I was happy when she started coming back around the clubhouse, even if that fury still lingered. She was coming home. Then Mara died and she did the ultimate good deed. She stepped up and took care of my daughter.

Abandoning my child is just one of many sins I need to atone for. Sometimes, I think there isn’t enough time left for me to right all the wrongs I’ve made. The task feels too big, too hard, but then I think about Sophia, and I know I have to try for her.

She deserves a family, and the club is the only one she’s ever known. I want her to grow up surrounded by aunts who adore her and uncles who would take a bullet to keep her safe.

But this life… it’s fucking dangerous, and the consequences of things gone wrong are fatal. I’m fucking tired of burying people, of living amongst pain and misery.

I don’t like to admit it, but sometimes, when my thoughts are darker, I think Sophia would be better off without me. I’ve considered more times than I can count letting Heidi take her away to give her the normal life that I can’t. I destroy everything I touch, and I am terrified I’ll do the same to her. But I’m a selfish bastard, and I need Sophia far more than she needs me. She’s the only thing that stops me sliding back into the monster I had been. I clawed my way out of hell for Sophia, because I want to be better for her, but she’s also a catalyst for the darkness creeping back in.

It’s not new for me to experience torment, even in my sleep, but the things I dream are fucking unhinged. Tonight’s nightmare leaves me unsettled because it featured Sophia.

I force my corded throat to relax, sucking in air through my nose as that lump of meat in my chest thumps violently against my ribcage.

How much more do I have to suffer?

Is it not enough I lost everything without the threat of losing the only good thing I have left?

Trying to calm the emotions swirling through me, I swallow the dryness in my mouth.

I hate this room. I hate this entire house. My wife’s fingerprints are all over every part of the space, the ghosts of our past haunting my every move. I wish I could burn it to the fucking ground. There are so many memories here, both good and bad, and I’m sure they are part of the reason for the nightmares.

I need to get a fucking grip. This stroll down to self-pity city helps no one, least of all me.

Rubbing my chest, I swing my legs out of bed, my toes scrunching into the carpet as I lean forward. Every inch of me vibrates with tension, but I try to unknot my shoulders anyway.

“Fuck.”

Why am I dreaming that fucked-up shit? Sophia is perfectly safe. There’s no reason to think the Pioneers will come after her. They want me, not my child, but my subconscious knows how ruthless Richardson’s men are.

They’ll use her to get to me, and that knowledge is why I’m having nightmares. Once again, my decisions, my shitty choices, are fucking everything up.

I reach for my phone on the bedside table. It’s just after four a.m., and judging by the stillness of the house, my daughter is soundly sleeping—as is Heidi.

It’s selfish to risk waking them, but I can’t rest until I lay eyes on my daughter.

I stand and settle my jogging bottoms on my hips, not bothering to find a T-shirt before I go to the door. I’m only going to look in on her and then head back to bed.

Avoiding the creaky floorboard on the landing, I keep moving until I’m outside my daughter’s nursery. The dim nightlight shines through the gap in the door, and I raise my hand, intending to push it open, but something stops me.

What am I doing?

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