Sins of the Father (Ravens Ruin MC 1)
Page 11
“Whose house is this?” I ask noticing a single light on in a room upstairs.
“Mine,” he answers. “TJ’s sometimes, and Molly’s when she’s home.”
This isn’t a biker’s house I conclude as we make our way down the gravel path to the porch. Bikers don’t live in cute houses with shutters on the windows. They dwell in dirty buildings without paying electricity, freeloading off everyone around them. They’re gross and have no morals, preferring to cut your throat rather than talk to you. At least that’s what I’ve been led to believe. Bikers don’t worry about their sisters or send them to expensive private academies. They toss them to the wolves, forcing them to survive on their own.
Hesitant to enter, I stop on the porch, jolting when the swing on the porch squeaks in the breeze.
“What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?” Lynch reaches past me and opens the screen door before pushing the heavy wooden door open.
“Thank you,” I mutter as he sweeps his arm like he’s a member of the royal court granting me permission to enter his castle.
A grunt pushes out of his lips as his eyes narrow. I turn in the direction of his scowl and see Briar making his way down the stairs at the end of the long foyer.
“She’s pretty fucking pissed,” the handsome man tells his president. “I wouldn’t confront her tonight.”
“You find out why she left school?”
Briar’s head shakes instantly. “She wouldn’t tell me.”
“I can make her talk,” Lynch vows and moves toward the stairs.
“Give her time, Brother,” Briar pleads.
Brother? So Briar isn’t the one Molly is interested in, unless—
“Don’t tell me how to take care of my sister, Brother,” Lynch spits as he stares down at the grip on his arm.
I’m so damn confused right now.
Briar releases Lynch’s arm as if he’s been burned.
Something silent, yet almost palpable passes between them as they glare at each other.
Briar backs down first, nodding quickly before sidestepping Lynch and leaving the house.
“I don’t hurt women,” he begins, turning his fire-filled eyes in my direction, “But I’ll change my stance on that if you leave this house without my permission.”
So much for being safe.
“You going to hurt me, too?”
Molly’s voice on the stairs draws both of our attention.
“Get your ass upstairs,” he hisses at her.
“You’re not my father,” Molly argues.
“Come on down then.” Lynch sweeps his arm much like he did when he opened the front door moments ago. “We can talk about why you’re here, Princess.”
“I hate that fucking name, and you know it,” Molly spits before she twists around and disappears upstairs.
“Quit acting like a spoiled fucking brat then!” he yells after her.
“Take your ass to bed, too,” he snaps at me.
My head recoils, drawing back a couple inches as I glare at him. My rebuttal dies on my lips when the front door swings open.
TJ, stumbling over the threshold, walks in accompanied by two completely naked girls. Suddenly I’m self-conscious and a little agitated when Lynch’s eyes sweep over both of them.
“No whores in the house,” Lynch grumbles as coolly as he would if he were telling someone no olives on my pizza.
“Your whore is here,” TJ whines nodding in my direction.
I’m annoyed at his whiney voice until comprehension of his words actually hits me.
Lynch glares at TJ, holding up a hand to keep me quiet when my mouth opens to tell him to fuck off.
TJ grumbles something about moving out so he can make his own fucking rules, but he spins around, pulling the girls with him. Just before they cross the threshold again, one of the girls turns around and prowls toward Lynch. Her lithe, tiny body moves across the floor like she isn’t even walking but more gliding on air. I should be pissed, but instead, I’m mesmerized by her movements. So much so that I’m certain she’s some type of witch or goddess.
“You look stressed, baby.” Her hand flows with familiarity down the front of his body until she’s cupping his junk. “I can help you with that.”
“Maybe later, Minx,” he replies without a hint of the agitation that was there seconds ago for his brother.
“Maybe later?” I mouth silently as she releases him and walks out the front door, disappearing into the night like she was a mirage all along.
“Bed, now,” he rasps, startling me.
“Asshole,” I mutter as I spin and take the stairs two at a time.
With a soft hand, I knock on the only door with light showing from under it. Not getting an answer, I twist the doorknob and push the door open a few inches.
“I’m not talking about it, Eric,” Molly says from under a massive pile of covers on a bed too big for any one person to sleep in alone.
“Who’s Eric?” I ask as I step inside and close the door behind me.