Page 1 of Ronny

PROLOGUE

Ronny

Sixteen Years Old

My life before my mom and dad adopted me was tough. My bio mom chose everyone else, primarily men, over me.

We were in and out of homeless shelters and centers for women and their kids who were suffering from domestic violence.

That’s where I met my mom, Bell, and my dad, Maverick.

Bell was the first person ever to show me kindness. She was determined to give me an amazing life.

And she did.

For years, I couldn’t believe it was real, that I could have a bed, food, and just someone to care about me.

Then, I found my calling in life: hockey. Mom and Dad took me to every game and practice, raised money for the team, and took me all over the States for games because I joined an elite team.

Fucking blessed is what I am.

My dad had me train to protect myself outside of practice, which included being able to shoot and ensure that I could defend myself and others around me if needed.

I never dreamed the training he pounded into my head would have led me to the moment that changed my life forever, or that it would have happened so soon.

I’m heading home from practice when I get a phone call from my mom, telling me that the women’s center is under attack.

My father’s clubhouse owns a center for women that are escaping cults and other horrific shit in their lives. Sometimes their abusers show up to the center wanting their women or kids back.

“Get home, Ronny, so we can get into lockdown until it’s under control,” she tells me, and I can hear a slight tremor in her voice.

But I can’t.

I slam on the brakes and turn around toward the center, because I won’t let those women who have been hurt by others their whole lives be hurt again if I can help it.

I was out in the countryside practicing shooting with my new sniper rifle that Dad got me for my birthday.

And the closer I get to the center, the louder I can hear the gunshots. Fuck me. I fear for some of my family members that are there right now and the ole ladies that help out there sometimes.

The club is family; we aren’t blood, but we are there for each other. I can’t tell you a time when half of the club hasn’t shown up to my games.

Since I was a small kid they’ve been there for me, and seeing all of my family watching me from the stands is a feeling I will never forget.

I park at the side entrance and put in the code to get in, as only family have the code to get in through the side gate in case of emergencies.

I grab my sniper rifle and speed through the gate, looking out of the rearview mirror to make sure it shuts behind me so I don’t allow these fuckers to find another way to get in.

Some of the women see me and start screaming, hiding, going into their small houses. I roll down my window so they can see my face and not be afraid. “Lock yourselves inside of your home, ladies,” I tell them when I put the truck into park.

They take off, running and dragging their kids with them, their faces pale white, and I know they’re terrified.

I go straight to the main house that we call the center half of the time, carrying my case.

I duck behind trees and vehicles, staying out of sight. I see a ton of men in white garbs at the entrance to the house. I add the code in for one of the back doors, running through the house and seeing the girls about to hide in the bunker.

They scramble and following the noise of people yelling, I turn the corner and see Etta is trying to hold the door shut while a man’s foot is sticking in the door and keeping her from being able to shut it. Two other girls are trying their best to help her.

Etta steps back and takes a running go at the door to get it to slam shut, but it doesn’t work.

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