My heart thuds. Being in the club was the most important thing I wanted when I was old enough to even know what being an Outlaw meant. I’m certain nothing has changed, seeing I was injured on club business.
My blood pressure escalates.
The wavering in my vision gets worse.
“No. I might not know who…I am. But I know I’m…a fucking Outlaw.”
And as the last word spills from my lips, the world goes dark.
4
SOPHIA
It’s two days later when I see Theo again in the physio room. He’s lying on his stomach, lifting a tennis ball over a small cone as sweat pours down his forehead. He’s wearing a black tank top and athletic shorts, and I can see the muscles in his shoulders ripple with exertion. His hand shakes, and I will it, and him, to make another pass of the ball.
When he knocks the cone over, he tosses the ball, and I see his lips form the wordfuck.
I heard from Jamie that Theo had passed out in the area we greet guests. Said he went down like a stone and that one of his biker friends caught him before getting help.
He said they all wore leather vests that said they were members of the Iron Outlaws. Of course, I searched the internet for them. A handful of documents from the Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms said they were a motorcycle gang. Once I knew, I hurried to my room to process the information.
Like I did when I searched myself online to see if I left any footprint and found out my father is allegedly Mafia, a Cosa Nostra man of honor. I’ve researched what that means, andlearned the wordMafiaoriginated in Sicily but probably has Arabic roots.
I then watched every Mafia movie I could find.
I’m not sure I like being part of this family, but the images my family has shared show the complete opposite.
A luxury lifestyle. Parties with red lipstick. And I always have a glass of champagne in my hand.
My mom showed me our text messages. We clearly loved each other.
I was given a new phone by my father when I moved here, as my old one was damaged in the crash. The contacts were empty of everyone except my immediate family, but it began to fill up a little as people came to visit. Seemingly, I had no social media accounts. Alessio told me it was against our father’s rules for our safety.
But I’ve become friends with every single person who has passed through these doors. I’ve built a life within these walls that feels safe, and I’m tempted to feign a fainting fit just so I can stay another month.
I’ve also thought about checking myself out and going to rebuild my life where no one knows me and has no expectations of me. But with no understanding of my own independent wealth nor access to any of it, I don’t know where to start.
“Okay,” Lori says. “I need one more circuit of the course.”
“You’re a cruel master.” I wipe the sweat from my brow.
Lori chuckles. “So I’ve been told. You’ve gotten this far. I’m not going to let you bail now. Let’s go, Sophia.”
The circuit is designed to test my weaknesses. It includes steps and ramps, all with safety bars in case I need them. But the whole idea is that I don’t use them. I walk towards the first low box I have to step up onto and then off.
“Lead with your left foot,” Lori reminds me.
I take a breath, build up to it, then lean to my right a little so I can maneuver my foot high enough to clear the step. Instead, I kick the box slightly.
“Try it again, Sophia,” Lori encourages.
“In my brain, it felt like I cleared it.”
“Perception and balance can all change. With only one eye, your brain is grappling with depth perception issues. Try it again. You nearly had it.”
I do as she says, and with a Herculean push, I manage to get my left foot up, swiftly followed by my right. My arms raise automatically to try and create some balance on top of the box.
“And down with your left foot too.”