Rage (Royal Bastards MC 2)

My body stiffens under his glare. Storming over to where I stand, he snatches the purse, causing the strap to scrape down my arm, burning a path across my skin.

“Ouch,” I whine. “Give me back my purse.” My hands swipe out attempting to take it back, but his sneer is like a snake hissing in warning before he strikes, and I curl inward.

Opening the purse, he tips it upside down. All my belongings fall to the wooden floor beneath his feet as humiliation scolds my neck and cheeks.

His foot kicks my wallet, keys, and tampons before he bends to pick up a packet of birth control pills. “What the fuck is this?” he booms.

Sickness pools in my stomach. I got my period three years ago and have managed to keep it a secret. I didn’t like the thought of my brother knowing I was becoming a woman. The more I grow up, the tighter his leash on me becomes. Like he’s frightened once I’m grown, I’ll leave him too. Where the hell would I go? Anywhere else.

A hand grips my throat, his thumb pushing against the artery in my neck. “Milo,” I choke out. My fingers claw at his hand, my feet rising to tiptoes as he pushes against me, his strength overpowering my ability to breathe.

“Who are you fucking!” He lifts the box of pills into my face before smashing them off the wall beside my head. Speckles of black smear my vision as I attempt to shake my head.

“Milo, man, you’re going to kill her,” Anton intervenes. He releases me abruptly, I’m sliding down the wall as air rushes into my mouth, setting fire to my throat, the oxygen like acid. A flicker of silver flashes from Milo’s pocket, and before anyone can move, he whips his wrist forward and stabs—one, two, three. Anton grunts out in pain and curls over, his body falling to the ground in a heap.

No.

“Fuck,” someone groans, like it’s an inconvenience and not someone’s life ending right here in the living room.

My heart pounds in my ears. Tears track a path down my cheeks. The pool of blood leaking out from Anton’s lifeless form spreads toward my outstretched legs. Anton isn’t a friend, but he’s a human being murdered because of my actions.

“Why?” I cry, my voice hoarse.

“You fucking him?” His fist still clenches the bloodied knife, his eyes large and wild as he paces the floor between us. When did he become this monster?

“What? No! God, Milo, I just wanted not to have periods anymore!” I screech.

Marching toward me, he grasps my hair and jerks me forward, making me cry out in pain. “This is what happens when you try to leave me. This is on you,” he sneers, then releases me and storms through the kitchen.

Climbing to my feet, I race down the hall to my room and slam the door before leaping under the covers on my bed.

I’d read taking the pill stops your periods. That’s all I wanted, not to worry about them coming. The pharmacy clerk took pity on me this time, but said I’d have to go to Planned Parenthood for future prescriptions, which I’d never be allowed to do, so it was all for nothing anyway. Anton died for nothing.

It’s dark when I open my eyes. I must have cried myself to sleep. Sensing movement in the room, I kick the covers back, ready to jump up if I need to. Life with Milo has never been easy. It took violence and darkness for him to rise in the ranks of the drug world. People have tested him over the years, attacking the house we managed to keep living in despite it not belonging to us. I’m always on edge. Always wary.

“I’m sorry about earlier. You know how rough it can be out there, Willa. I fucking worry,” Milo speaks from the shadows before stepping into view, the light from the moon dancing across his face from the drapeless window.

“You killed Anton.” I sniffle, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Were you fucking him?” His voice is quiet, nothing like the boy from hours ago. The boy who robbed another of his life for something so minor.

“You know I wasn’t,” I snap. He would know if I was doing that stuff with anyone. He keeps me by his side most of the time, and when I’m not, I’m here in my room slowly wilting inside. I hate my life. I hate him. I hate me.

“Why would you need birth control?”

How the hell does he even know what they are? He’s never had a steady girlfriend. Girls waltz in and out on rotation.

“Because it’s easier than getting a period in a house where I’m not allowed to leave to buy my own tampons,” I grind out, getting to my feet to kick off my shoes. I was in such a state earlier, I got into bed fully clothed.