Page 9 of Lily's Eagle

I try to slip sideways to get away from him, but he grabs my arms and pushes me back against the door, his fingers digging painfully into my biceps as he holds me there, the glass icy against my back. I’m breathing hard, my heart racing.

“Release me,” I say as calmly as I can. The only reason I’m able to sound and seem so calm is because I’ve been watching my father do his thing of being the MC president for these past ten years. He’s a master of never letting his emotions show on his face.

“No. You’re mine now,” he whispers and leans closer.

And I don’t know what’s more disgusting, the feel of his hot, smelly breath on my neck or what he said. Most of all I hate that Eagle was totally right about trying to drag me away earlier. I hate it when he’s right. And I know I’m just thinking about that, so I don’t have to focus on this problem right here. And because thinking of him helps focus my mind for some reason.

The chief’s lips are less than an inch from mine, and my back is flush with the door of his office which he is still pressing me against. I can’t move. Something I never expected, never even saw as a possibility is about to happen. Something bad. And despite how I always imagined I’d never stand for anything like this, I’m frozen like a deer in the headlights.

Go for the knees or the throat. Use your elbows, they’re the strongest bone in your body. Use your knees or your teeth if you have to. Advice like that, which I’ve gotten from just about every MC member in my dad’s inner circle, including Cross himself is flashing through my mind, getting louder and louder. It’s like they’re all shouting at me to free myself and eventually it finally works to break me out of my frozenness.

I can’t use my elbows, but I bring my knee up, aiming at his crotch, but hitting his inner thigh instead. He groans and growls and releases me arms, his right hand shooting to my throat.

He’s clutching my throat so hard, I can’t breathe, but my newly freed elbow connects with the soft fat at the side of his belly. His grip on my throat is still strong as he bends sideways and massages the spot. On the next attempt, my knee successfully connects with his crotch. The grip on my throat tightens then releases as he groans and curses, his eyes turning glassy in pain.

“You damn bitch,” he chokes out and comes at me again, hands ready to grab my throat.

If I’m going down, I’m going down fighting. And finally my body is on board with that notion too. I thrash around, punching and screaming and scratching, until he finally stops trying to pin me down.

There’s finally enough room behind my back for me to reach the doorknob. I turn it and open the door, still yelling at him to stay back. He does. For a wonder.

And for another, no one is rushing into the room to see what all the noise is about, even though I’m making a lot of noise.

The office space beyond is deserted, all the many tables empty and only a single tube light on, illuminating the double doors. That’s my destination as I rush out of the office, not looking back, focused only on reaching the metal handle before he pulls me back.

“That’s right, run home to daddy,” he croaks after me. “See if he can do something about it.”

I almost turn and do something about it myself. Almost. But I know I probably can’t.Pick your battles well.I’ve heard that one many times too. This is not a battle I can win.

No one stops me as I slam through the double doors and into the brown carpet lined and yellow-walled corridor on the other side of it. A staircase with a dark grey metal railing is at the end of it and I run towards it and down. I sound like a herd of elephants moving, but no on stops me. No one even comes out into any of the corridors I flash past to see what’s going on. Not even when I reach the ground floor and run right past the reception desk to the side of the main door.

The night air hits me with a gust as I exit the police station and keeps on hitting me as I run across the parking lot and onto the sidewalk, wanting, no needing, to get as far away from the foul place as I can.

I’m winded as I finally stop at an intersection at the end of the street. No cars are passing, there’s no one on the sidewalk, and the sound of my wheezing breaths is all I can hear.

What the hell just happened?

But as my breathing slowly returns to normal and I start shivering in the cool nighttime air, I think I know.

The chief wants me to run to Cross and tell him everything. He pulled this shit tonight to get Cross to try and avenge me, so he can finally lock him up. That’s all that filthy idiot police chief ever wanted. Not me. My father. He’s obsessed with arresting Cross and being the guy who finally takes down the president of Devil’s Nightmare MC.

So I can’t ever tell Cross what happened to me.

I’ll never be the catalyst for his downfall. Never. No matter what they do to me. Besides, I fight my own battles. Always have, always will. That stupid chief should know that about me by now.

I just wish I knew how to fight this one.

But I already do know.

I’m getting the hell out of this town. And I’m never coming back.

4

EAGLE

I strodeout of that parking lot as soon as they loaded Lily into a squad car and didn’t look back, just headed for the clubhouse, not thinking much. As if. Lily’s right. I do have to cut the cord with her. Sooner rather than later.

It won’t be easy.

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