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Suddenly, a warm hand grips my hip, and the room spins as my body is flipped over. My breasts press against the leather below, which irritates my sensitive nipples and startles a scream out of me.
“Let me fucking go, you piece of shit,” I yell, pressing my hands to the wood. A splinter slides right into my palm, and I push up hard with a grunt, trying to leverage my body off the table.
And I get nowhere. Legacy slams me back down, laying his body over me. His heat sears into my back, branding me as much as that tattoo gun is about to.
“You sure you want this bitch, Legacy?” Pirate laughs. “Her fire would earn us plenty of money—and the brothers are eager to begin her training,”
“She’s mine. Shaka, Charming, Hunter—come help me hold her down, brothers. Prick, let's get it done.” He snaps out the orders, his voice low and commanding, and for the first time, I hear the timbre of a future MC Prez. A man who demands, and takes… and never asks.
A man who isn’t the boy I fell in love with…can I grow to love him too? Do I even want to?
The question flits through my head, but as powerful hands grip my limbs, holding me gently, yet firmly, my heart cracks.
Love doesn’t matter—it won’t save me from Pirate. Only Legacy can do that.
Taking a deep breath, I release it, letting it gust across the sticky, revolting table. And I close my eyes, trying my best to relax my muscles and save my strength. Trying to have faith that won’t hurt, just like he promised.
A buzzing sound fills the air, causing my jaw to clench.
“You want this done move out of the way,” Prick says, and the snap of surgical gloves makes me jump. “And give me your shirt to cover her up. Fuckin’ unsanitary.”
He grumbles and mutters, but just the same a soft cloth comes down, finally covering my ass from view. If I need to endure this, at least everyone won’t be staring at every part of me.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Pirate snaps at him, and the urgency seems out of place. The desire to see what’s going on fills me, but they have me held so tight, there’s no movement.
“Just gonna clean the area. Then, I’ll get started. Be fast,” Prick replies evenly, leaning over me. Something sharp stabs into me, and I gasp, bucking up off the table.
“Easy, Trinity, easy,” he murmurs gently before the scent of alcohol reaches my nose. As he wipes the center of my back with the cold liquid the sensation gets softer and softer—until I realize I can barely feel it anymore.
Gratitude blooms in my chest as I realize what he’s done. Emotion chokes me at the extreme kindness. Here I am, spread out and held down like a lamb to the slaughter, and he still cares enough to numb my skin and make this painless. Tears gather behind my lids, slipping down my cheeks, but I do my best to control my breathing as every feeling imaginable washes over me.
Despair for my father. Rage-tinged love for Legacy. Appreciation for Prick. Devastation at the property tattoo that’s about to destroy my back.
I never wanted this. I never wanted this. I never wanted this.
Only him…
My tears fall, scattering across the wood below me as the buzzing gets louder, closer. My skin is numb, but the pain in my soul is nearly unbearable as the tip of the needle touches me for the first time.
And it all fills me until I can’t hold on anymore. My mouth opens, and my wild, feral shrieks can no longer be contained. Filling the room with my outrage. Oh, how I wish I was a banshee so that my anger-filled howls could show them all my true wrath.
One day.
When they least expect it.
Vengeance will be mine…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LEGACY
Trinity’s cries rip through me, clawing at me like a wild beast and tearing my insides. Her pain is my fault. Venom’s death is my fault. All of this is my fault.
Condemnation and self-loathing fill me as I watch each letter being inked on my girl’s smooth, virgin skin. She’s wanted to get a tattoo, an infinity symbol like mine. A symbol of our love. Instead, her first tattoo’s gonna be a damn brand of ownership. My jaw clenches hard and my vision tunnels on the appearance of each black letter.
P.R.O.P.E.R.T.Y.
Her thigh is soft and still sticky with my cum, but even through the mess, my thumb traces circles on her skin. The need to apologize hangs on my tongue, but I can’t. Not here. Pirate’s malice-filled eyes bore into the side of my face. Burning more and more with each letter that appears.
