Page 51 of Acid

Anger runs through my veins at his attitude. “Fuck’s sake, Eli. I asked for your help, not a fucking lecture and getting everyone else involved!” I snap back at him and stand, but he stands with me and grabs my arm.

“For fucking weeks, Perrie has believed the worst in you, Ollie; I’ve fucking believed the worst!” he snaps.

I rip my arm out of his grip as Steal demands, “Someone better fucking tell me what’s going on right now!”

I shake my head, dropping my chin to my chest.

And this is why I won’t open up about my past. It won’t be between myself and my blood brother. He’ll get the club involved, wanting to track the fuckers down, even though I’ve already done that.

Everyone suffered, apart from Pamala and Aiden, who’re both still at large.

“This idiot let everyone, including Perrie, believe he fucked Andreawillingly!” Piston sneers, and I sigh, looking at him with disappointment.

“Oliver…” Canine says, and I glare at my brother before looking at our uncle. His eyes show concern, and he asks, “What does he mean ‘willingly’?”

All three men look at me with determination to know the truth, and I swallow before admitting, “I woke up with only the memory of telling the bitch to fuck off, an empty condom on my cock, and her naked next to me. I get flashbacks of her begging me to get hard, but that’s it, no memory of fucking her.”

Canine’s nostrils flare as Steal looks at me, his jaw ticking.

“Piston, find the fucking footage and then go over her hospital records, ensure the insemination hasn’t been done yet because the bitch has signed her death warrant!” Anchor growls.

“Ollie?” Piston whispers when he sees I won’t look at him. I’m so fucking angry I may deck him.

I didn’t want the fucking club involved because what that bitch did was way too fucking close to what happened in my past.

Steal sees I’m barely hanging on and says, “Go now, Piston. Give him time to calm down.” Piston curses before doing as told, and I nod to my prez before turning. “Acid!” he shouts, but I put my hand up and storm out of the club, bile burning my throat.

Pity, that’s how they fucking looked at me, and they don’t even know about my childhood.

Shaking my head, I go to my truck, foregoing my bike, knowing the pipes will tip them off.

It’s time I got my fucking answers.

I tilt my head and watch Perrie leave the diner, locking up, and my fingers begin to itch.

Eight, that’s how many fucking scars I counted on her thighs, and I need answers, and I need to get outta my own fucking head, the look of shock, guilt, and pity in my brother’s eyes haunting me, knowing I was assaulted.

He’ll never find out about the rapes; I fucking swear it!

Without turning my headlights on, I turn the ignition, and follow Perrie as she drives out of her spot behind the diner.

I follow her for fifteen minutes before she pulls down a very familiar street.

“Fuck’s sake, of course, she’s staying above the fucking gym!” I snap to myself and pull up on the other side of the street.

I watch Perrie climb out of the Mustang and rush to the door, unlocking it before entering, and I chuckle darkly.

All this time, this is where she’s been, this is where she’s been fucking keeping up with her fighting when everyone thought it was closed.

Sighing, I lean back and wait for ten minutes, ensuring she’s definitely staying here before I confront her, but before I can open my door, she comes back out, and instead of her uniform, she’s in her gym gear.

She climbs into her car.

I frown and quickly start my truck, again ensuring the lights are off, and follow her.

Half an hour later, I’m cursing up a fucking storm.

“Fuck’s sake, Perrie!” I growl as I park and grab my cut, before I climb out of my truck. I put my cut on and storm over to The Fight.

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