“About?”
“Your club.”
“Right now? In the middle of the fucking night?”
“Eh.” He waved a hand like it was unimportant. “You need to recruit Manic, Creature, and Skeletor as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“Because shit is happening out of my control. I can’t interfere.”
“Meaning?”
“You need your SAA, VP, and Enforcer.”
Fuck. I hated how cryptic the devil could be.
“Angel Mackenzie is trouble. He’s a threat to your woman. And her sister.”
That got my attention. “What do I need to do?”
“Stay alert. Build your club. Be ready.”
He flicked off the light.
“Lucifer.”
“Be ready for anything.”
Well, fuck.
“HEY, LARK.”
“Hi.” I entered the room that Mimi used for her meetings, sitting on an empty chair.
I spotted a gorgeous brunette to my right who smiled shyly. “I’m Bree.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“It is. I never know what to expect at these sessions, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” And I meant it.
I glanced around the room as Mimi began introductions. Each woman in this room had been brutalized in one way or another. Sexual assault. Domestic violence. Trafficking.
It made me realize I wasn’t alone. Women suffered too often and, many times, alone. Fear, shame, and reluctance drove us to remain silent.
But we were stronger, braver, and more resilient together.
Mimi was so right. I needed this. I was ready.
When she gestured to me, giving me the floor, I began my story. “My father started coming to my room at night when I was only eleven.”
Those words used to haunt me. Now, they set me free.
Bree reached for my hand as the tears began to fall, weeping for the loss of innocence in the young girl inside me. I squeezed her hand, appreciating the strength she gave me as I finished.
When she began her story, I silently lent my support.