The President's Wife (Snakes Henchmen MC 0.5)

I close my eyes, I can feel her pain, its gut-wrenching.

Fuckin’ sick, motherfuckin’ bastard!

“He used to sneak into my room every night. When he’d finished touching me, he would tell me it was our secret, and we mustn’t tell mommy. I was ten when he… when he,” I grab her hand. She doesn’t need to say it out loud. Fuck, I don’t think I could take hearing that out loud!

“He wouldn’t stop. No matter what I did, it just never ended. Then I met Jose when I was fourteen. He was kind to me. He was too old to be interested in a little girl like me, but he was. The truth is, I liked that he was. He would get me to meet him around the corner from my house, where he’d pick me up in his car. I felt so grown up, especially when he’d take me to places where his friends would be. He used to tell me to pretend I was older because no one would understand otherwise. Jose would always get me to change into short dresses, wear makeup, high heels, and fix my hair, all to make me look older. He’d keep all that stuff in the trunk of his car because even he knew my dad wouldn’t let me out of the house looking like that.

“Being with Jose back then was the only time I felt happy. Even though in reality, I wasn’t happy, just glad to be anywhere but home. Jose talked me into bed so easily. I didn’t think it was wrong I just wanted someone to take away my father’s touch.” She shrugs to herself.

I don’t want to fuckin’ know about that cunt and how he touched her as a kid. Doesn’t she realize she was abused by two men who should’ve known better? This shit my beautiful girl must have gone through. It just doesn’t bear thinking about.

“My dad – I don’t know how, but he did – knew that I’d been with someone else. He beat the living hell out of me. The next day, I told my mom what my dad had been doing to me. I’d had enough, and I wanted it to stop. Do you know what she said to me?” She turns her eyes to me, the sad look in those beautiful green eyes is killing me.

‘I know, Lynette. I’ve always known. I also know that you are a vile little slut who just couldn’t keep her hands off my man.’ Then she slapped me and told me to get out of her sight.”

Jesus Christ!

“I ran from the house. I ran to Jose, and I never looked back. A couple of months later, I found out I was pregnant with Willow.” She shrugs. “I was scared because I didn’t know who the father was until she was born. The only reason I know she isn’t my fathers is because of her coloring, and the fact I can still to this day see a tiny bit of Jose in her when she pulls certain facial expressions.”

“Did Jose know any of this?”

She shakes her head. “I never told him what happened with my father. He would have turned me away for being tainted, and I was too scared of him to tell him my fears where Willow was concerned. However, when he denied Willow, I thought maybe Jose knew what happened, and maybe Willow was my father’s child. I waited each day for him to snap and throw it in my face. I was scared Jose would tell everyone the truth, and then I’d be all alone with no one on my side.” She gulps back a sob. It fuckin’ hurts my heart to know she thought this way. That bastard fucked with her head so much she felt she needed him. Goddamn child-molesting son of a bitch! “It doesn’t matter who her father may be, she’s my little girl, and I will always love her, no matter what.”

“Because you’re a wonderful mother.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I fought for years to forget what he did to me, to forget I ever even had parents, to forget Jose and all the horrible things he did to me. Because when I met you, when I had Willow, and when I heard your parents talking about Jose and me, I realized he was nothing but a pedophile, and he’d groomed me. I hated myself, Vince.”

I push back my own emotions that are trying to force their way out of me. I need to be strong for my girl right now. She was terribly abused, and I can’t bear it.

“I don’t know, being pregnant this time, the nightmares of what happened to me just keep coming back with a vengeance. I can’t shake what my father did to me, and it’s killing me.”

I grab her, pulling her into my arms and holding her so fuckin’ close to me. “There ain’t no one on this earth who will ever hurt you again, Lynette. That piece of shit can't hurt you anymore. You have to let it go, baby.”

“I will. Please don’t leave me.” I laugh. Lynette looks up at me.

“Ain’t never gonna happen. You know why?” She shakes her head with a smile on her face. “Because you are my soulmate, Lynette Jackson.”

“You’re mine. I love you, man of mine.”

“And I love you, beautiful wife of mine.”

* * *

Some promises a man keeps.

Some promises a man makes just to appease his woman.

Some promises a man makes with no intentions of keeping them.

I made a promise to my wife that I would never go looking for her father. Never would I seek him out and kill the pedophile piece of shit who hurt her when she was just a child.

I had no intentions of keeping that promise.

Oh, the nightmares may have eased, but she still has them.

I have to end this shit once and for all. I finished one pedophile cunt, and I can’t rest until I end the other. Lynette needs peace, freedom from this hell she’s still living in. In four months, our baby girl will be entering the world, and I’m going to make sure she does it without this fucker still breathing.

It took CueBall a couple of weeks to find him. I couldn’t very well ask Lynette where her parents lived. She would have known right away what I was up to. However, CueBall found him, he also found out Lynette’s mother has been dead for years. The old fucker is sadly still breathing. Me, BlackJack, and CueBall are the only ones who know about this shit. The only ones who ever will.

The sniveling cunt at my feet is nothin’ but filth on the shoe of the worst kind of motherfucker.

“Get up, you dirty fuck!” I kick the bastard in the gut. He rolls on the floor, crying like a fuckin’ pansy.

Cunt!

He stinks of piss, booze, and cigars. His clothes look like they ain’t been washed in months. The house stinks like the filthiest fuckin’ hovel a man can ever imagine. My fuckin’ boots are sticking to the damn carpet!

The sick old bastard has framed pictures all over the place of my Lynette as a little girl. BlackJack’s already packing that shit up. Ain’t leaving fuck all behind. I’ll put everything in storage because these pictures of my wife now belong to me.

The old bitch who birthed my woman is lucky she’s already fuckin’ dead, or she’d be suffering right along with her kiddy fiddling husband. Fuckin’ bitch!

“What the fuck do you people want?!” Fat fuck scrambles to his knees.

“What do you think we want, motherfucker?”

The piece of shit doesn’t answer me; he’s too busy screaming at BlackJack about those damn pictures. “How dare you touch those. Put them back. They’re all I have left of my baby girl!”

“Your baby girl?” I get to my haunches and grab the front of his greasy, filthy hair. Thank God I’m wearing leather gloves. “That girl is my wife, the mother of my children! I know what you did to her, you fuckin’ sick bastard.”

“Good, ain’t she?” Why is it men who know they’re about to die, go one of two ways? Either they beg for their lives, or they get all cocky just to piss you off even more! “She used to beg me, you know? Beg for her daddy’s cock.”

“Jesus Christ,” I hear CueBall hiss under his breath.

My stomach is churning. My head is thumping. I’m not the kind of man who cries about much of anything in this life, but right now, I’m not going to lie, I want to cry for what this pig did to Lynette. All these fucking years she’s kept this secret inside of her. Kept it hidden for fear of losing me. Nothing she ever had to tell me would change the way I feel about her, especially not this.

“You know what we do to men like you?” He snickers at me. Fuckin’ dumb fuck! Of all the evil shit that goes on in this world

, this is the worst of the worst. Sex crimes against children. They don’t even bear thinking about, but the fact they happened to my wife at the hands of her own daddy is too fuckin' much.

“Get him up.” Without a word, my brothers hoist the fat sack of shit to his feet. The stench coming off him is enough to turn anyone’s stomach. It’s impressive how nose blind you can be when anger sets in.

“What are you doing, you piece of shit!” Spit hits me in the face. I wipe it away with my gloved hand. “You won’t get away with this!”

“Wanna bet?” I’m done talking. He’s done breathing. One shot to the head is all it takes, and he drops to the floor like the fat sack of crap he is. “Get the body in the truck.”

“Prez,”

I fuckin’ love the smell of gasoline, it reminds me of my younger days when BlackJack, Titus and I used to burn down the buildings of any fucker who crossed us. God, we were fucked up back then. Back when Jack couldn’t go on without Taylor. When he couldn’t deal with not having her in his life because of his racist daddy.

Jack came to me and begged me to get him a place with the club. I’d known him since he was six and lost in the woods. Titus and me, we took care of Jack most of his damn life until he joined the club and proved he was as fucked up as the rest of us. He might have been young, but even I could see how in love with Taylor he was, how he’d get himself killed without her.