Anarchist: (An MC Serial Novel) Book 2 by Jordan Silver Page A

I wasn’t looking for any. That way leads trouble.
    “All I know for sure is that Mr. Davis was the one who paid for my education, and that he’s expecting me to marry him in return.
    I only just returned home last week after graduation, and was under the impression that I was going to go off to a nice college, but instead...”
    “Does your mother know? Of course she does what am I saying.” I answered my own question as I walked away.
    “I’ll be right back.” I left her there and headed out the door. I could see the men getting into position around the perimeter and somebody had already pulled the security gates.
    I never took anything for granted where Royce Davis was concerned; any man who would rape a mother and child, or order such a thing to be done, was not someone I’d want to turn my back on.
    Her mother was sitting in the front room of the cottage, looking out of place, like she was on tenterhooks.
    She jumped a few feet into the air when she heard me coming. I pulled a table chair over to the couch where she was sitting and straddled it.
    “I need to know about the deal your husband had with Davis.” I kept my eyes on her face for any sign that she was lying to me.
    Her eyes widened in surprise, I guess she wasn’t expecting her daughter to share family secrets.
    “Please don’t try to stall me or feed me any bullshit, I already have half the story and can pretty much put two and two together, I just need you to fill in the blanks.
    I didn’t pull my punches, because I could see she already had that look about her, that look that says she was ready to forgive and forget.
    Well, she could do whatever the fuck she wanted, that girl was not going to fucking Royce Davis, no way no how.
    “What is it that you want to know?”
    Uh-huh, stalling. I gave her a look that I’m sure would put more fear in her than her husband’s fists. No I don’t have any fucking patience with this shit.
    “Look, I can see that you’ve already had a change of heart and started worrying about what life is going to be like without your piece a shit spouse, I could give a fuck about you or him.
    I do give a fuck about the young girl that came crawling onto my place this morning. Now you wanna go back there for more beatings and bullshit, feel fucking free, but if you have some fairy tale notion in your head that she’s going with you, you can forget that shit right now.
    Even if she changes her mind and decide she wants to leave, she can’t.”
    “But you can’t keep us here against our will.” She wrung her hands together and looked at me pleadingly. If I had time to give a fuck I might’ve worked on her a little bit to get her to come to her fucking senses.
    But I ran out of time to give a fuck when someone slaughtered most of my blood. These days my give a shit meter stayed stuck on empty.
    “I’m not keeping you against shit, you can go anytime you fucking please, but your daughter stays; she’s under my protection now.”
    “But if she doesn’t go through with it there’s going to be trouble...”
    “What kind of trouble?” she wrung her hands harder and looked miserable as fuck, still I couldn’t find it in me to give much of a shit.
    She had stood by and watched her husband abuse her kid; that little bit of heat she’d shown this morning had obviously worn off and now she was probably thinking that she was better off with the devil she knows.
    Whatever her reasoning, I couldn’t say that I was surprised. I’d seen it often enough to know it.
    There were kids here whose mothers had crawfished as well. Unlike the government, we didn’t give children back to their fucked up mothers who were willing to put their own children in danger.
    The one time the slimy fuck sheriff had come out here for one of my kids, as they all come to be known, I’d sent his ass packing with a warning.
    If he didn’t want me burning down his house of cards, he’d leave my shit alone.
    He didn’t know what Clay and Brand