Page 26 of Liberator

She gave out a sound that I knew meant disbelief before countering with, “You knew I wouldn’t say no. I never can when I’m stirred up like that. You counted on it. It’s a weakness I’m determined to get over a.s.a.p. You’re able to use me becauseof it. I can’t afford to be used by you or anyone else. Serpent Sinners can’t have weaknesses.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. We all have weaknesses. We just don’t show them to the enemy. Most of us have a bad history and the others are mostly aware of each other’s past. We may keep one or two things tucked inside us, but for our safety and the protection of the club we all have to be clear on our weaknesses or someone could get killed. It’s not a pretty picture. In fact, there’s a lot of ugliness involved. That’s why we come off to others as dangerous and evil, which we are yet there’s more to us than that. It’s best that those around us see just that part of us otherwise we’re vulnerable. Our flaws can be used against us.”

“You’re full of crap. None of you are women, so you can’t relate to what happened to me or what I’m fighting inside as well as outside. I’m at a fucking disadvantage you’d never understand in a million years,” she proclaimed.

Chapter 19

“What is it youthink you know about us?” I asked.

“I think you all make up one unit, a closed one that’s difficult to break into. For me, as a woman, it’s even harder. I think you were taught to be tough from birth and all of you see us as the weaker sex. I know for a fact that you do use woman as sex objects. The fact that they want to be used just so they can hang around with you and feel some of that danger doesn’t make it any less degrading for them. I don’t want to be seen as their equal.”

“I’ve never put you in that category. I stood up for you against my own damn Prez more than once. I’ve never done that for anyone else. You were going to leave, so I was the one who recommended you join the Sinners. When you delayed speaking to Prime I did it for you. Don’t you see that you can trust me?” I asked.

“I can’t trust any man ever again. I made that mistake too many times as a kid. Then, I really screwed up by trusting asweet talking, handsome man who promised me the world. Look where the hell it got me! Trusting men is stupid. I have to rely on myself or get hurt, or maybe dead,” she stated.

“Besides, I didn’t ask for you to do those things. The fact that you did makes me look helpless and stupid.”

“I know you were abused and hurt all your life. I know you needed love and understanding but were given cruelty and loneliness instead. I saw firsthand what condition you ended up in because you trusted a man who offered that love and protection. I’m not blind or clueless. We see similar shit all the time. There are times when we cause some of it. As I said, the things we do and see aren’t pretty. You’re not going to like everything that goes on around us, but it’s what goes with being a Sinner. For this to work you have to trust us, me and the whole damn club.”

“I see you have nothing to say in defense of yourself for treating me as if I’m a simpering female. Oh hell, it doesn’t matter anyway. I need you to shut up and get Colt. I’m ready for him to hold the pads while I kick,” she suddenly demanded.

“I’ll hold the damn pads. I’m not done talking sense into you,” I replied while grabbing the pads off a stack by the ring.

“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know,” she said as she took her first kick which came far to close to my family jewels for comfort.

I tried not to flinch since I was certain she’d aimed her kick purposefully.

“I think you should know I’ve been pushed around by someone close to me that I wanted only praise and love from. I know what it feels like to be bullied and counted as a lesser being. You don’t have exclusive rights to that. Hell, do you know how Ditch got his name? He was found in a fucking ditch as a baby. Because he wasn’t perfect his dear old mama tossed him away like trash. There’s a story behind each of us. Believe me when I say I sawhow a woman can be hurt physically as well as demoralized by a bully. It’s why I’m so damn protective of you,” I admitted.

Her movements were getting sluggish, and she was missing the pads more often than hitting them. There was a sadness overtaking her anger and I blamed myself. I was trying to reach her through her past, connecting mine and some of the Sinner’s to her situation. It wasn’t going as I’d hoped. She was at her best when she was angry.

So, I pushed a sensitive button by saying, “You’re kicking like a little girl in ballet. Get your act together or it’s time to leave.”

She froze and gave me a look that went with her words, “Go to hell, Rage.”

“Good. You’re mad again. Use the anger. Beat the shit out of the pads. If you have to see my face in them then that’s fine with me as long as you stop pussy footing around.”

“How would you know that would help?” she asked as she landed a shot that made me step back.

“Because it’s what I had to do to survive my father,” I bluntly stated.

“Why? Weren’t you the perfect son? Or were the tattoos a problem?” she asked sarcastically.

Her words burned me to the core. I wanted to lash out with cruelty, but I refrained. I’d be further proving Colt’s analysis if I lost control, and breaking my own vow to never harm a woman.

“I’ll let those remarks pass because you don’t know anything about me. I don’t talk about it often. Once I explain it to you I don’t want you to mention it ever again. What happened is over. The Sinners are my family and my future. The past is meant to stay right where it is, in the rearview mirror.”

She paused and simply stared at me. Her features softened and she said, “Go ahead. I’m listening. Whatever I hear ends here.”

“Keep moving so it’s not obvious that I’m baring my soul. And I don’t want your damn pity. I’m past that,” I commanded.

“Fine,” she agreed.

“First of all, my Dad was a high-ranking military man. He ran our home the same as he did his men. Everything was regimented, bedtime rituals, meals, dress, and obedience. Our grades had to be perfect, or we paid the price for it,” I began, though the memories made my head hurt.

“Our? You had siblings?” she inquired softly with a half-hearted punch at the pads. She’d given up on kicking in order to listen more closely.

“I had two brothers, both of them exactly like my dad. I was the youngest, smallest, and considered almost worthless. They called me wimpy and a runt. Father just laughed along with them. If I dared stand up for myself he beat me or let them do it while he watched. Any son of his had to learn to take a punch. He had to be the best and the strongest no matter what it took to get him to that point. I wasn’t military worthy, so he had to make me become good enough.”

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