Ugly Beast (Hell's Bastards MC 1)

Abriana hadn’t moved.

She looked up at Ugly Beast.

Three of his men were there. She recognized Smokey, and the other was Kinky. She couldn’t remember the man with the VP badge.

He started to talk, and she stared at the phone. These were the choices she didn’t want to make.

Her father demanded her loyalty and would beat her for his own personal pleasure. Ugly Beast … ignored her or … she didn’t even know what the past week had been about.

Staring up at him through tear-filled eyes, she didn’t know what to do.

“Ugly, dude, I think she’s in shock.”

She didn’t even flinch as Ugly Beast touched her neck.

“He was here,” Ugly Beast said.

She licked her lips, and suddenly breaking out of the haze, she stared up at her husband. “He wants me to tell them everything you do.” She pressed her lips together, knowing in one way or another she had signed her death certificate. She held out the cell phone. “He wants to know every single detail of the club. What you’re doing. He wants me to make sure you all trust me and to report back to him.” Her voice hurt from where he strangled her. “I … here you go.”

She placed the cell phone in his hands, and stepping away from him, she made her way to the kitchen. Turning off the oven, she did a double take. She had put the oven on way too hot. It was why the bird had cooked on the outside and not within.

Without looking back at the men, she made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She didn’t sit on the end of the bed. She stepped into the small closet, closed the door, and lay down on the rough carpeted floor.

Right now, she wanted to be safe, and nowhere she went, offered her any comfort.

She didn’t want to be Abriana Vigo.

More than anything, she wanted to be no one.

Where no men could hurt her and she didn’t have to make choices. By telling Ugly Beast the truth, her father would find out.

One day soon, she would die. Probably by his own hand. Maybe Ugly Beast would show her some mercy and do the deed quickly.

Wiping away the tears, she stared across the closet floor. Counting inside her head, her eyes went heavy, and she finally fell asleep.

****

The cell phone Abriana handed to him was a shitty one. There was a single cell phone number, and Ugly Beast looked toward the stairs where he caught sight of her seconds ago. The house smelled like burnt chicken, and he was so fucking angry.

Staring at his president, he saw the wheels in his mind turning. The moment one of those made men had spilled the fucking truth, he’d been on his bike as fast as he fucking could.

Only, it hadn’t been fast enough.

He wasn’t here to protect Abriana.

“She needs to start having a guard here. I don’t want her to be vulnerable again,” he said.

“You do know she just picked you,” Hunter said.

He turned to the other guy with a glare. “What?”

“She handed you the phone, told you the truth, and now it’s up to you to keep her safe. Vigo finds out what she’s done, he’ll kill her.”

“If she betrayed the club, I’d kill her,” he said.

“See what she has done here, brother,” Hunter said.

Right now, he was really struggling to keep his anger in check. “I need to deal with those bastards.”

Smokey shook his head, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Not tonight.”

“Did you know this was going to happen?” Ugly Beast asked.

“Did I know Vigo would step on my turf and attack club property? No. I didn’t. You think I take their threat lightly?”

“Be careful,” Hunter said.

Kinky even raised his brow.

“I’m sorry. Shit, I’m fucking sorry.”

“For a guy that doesn’t give a shit about his wife, you’re taking this really fucking badly,” Smokey said.

“I don’t love her. I could never love her. She’s my problem to deal with. My weak link. The club cannot afford to have someone who is weak.” He paced the length of his hallway, which really wasn’t fucking long enough for him to deal with all this pent-up frustration and anger. The cell phone was a big fucking problem.

“We need to know their play,” Smokey said. “We’re going to need to use Abriana as well. Hunter, notify everyone. This Sunday, it’s church. Bring your wife. She can hang out at the club. We don’t have time to divide our men. From now on, where you go, she goes,” Smokey said. “Deal with her. Get her on our team. We’ll handle Garofalo. Are you willing to make an arrangement to see Drago?”

Ugly Beast gritted his teeth as he stared at his president.

“That’s not necessary.”

Smokey held up the cell phone. “This is a problem. Reach out to him. Arrange a meet. I don’t give a fuck how you do it, just do it.” Smokey stood up. “We’ll leave you to deal with your woman. Get the job done. I don’t want any loose ends.”