Bones: Broken Bones MC by Leah Wilde Page A

that she’d be coming back today.
     
    “Won’t you be glad to see Antonio again?” I asked.
     
    “Hmph,” Frank snorted. “After he muffed the deal in Boston? Not thrilled, my dear, no.” His words were fatherly, if irascible, but his tone was something different. He didn’t sound like the good-natured, television-ready dad that he perhaps intended to portray himself as. No, there was too much blood and violence in Frank’s past for that. When Frank was disappointed, people died.
     
    It scared me. I had yet to understand how a man could have two completely contrasting sides to him. My daddy had been the same way, though, until he died. For the vast majority of my life, he’d been a bitter, broken old man with spittle flying from his mouth as he went off the handle at me. But every once in a while, he’d come into my room and sit on my bed to read stories to me until I fell asleep. I remembered thinking that his face seemed so soft when he did that. Like he was a whole different man. It didn’t make sense to me then, either.
     
    I tried not to think of Daddy too often. Part of me hated him, had always hated him. But the part of me that remembered those bedtime stories would grow sad at the thought that he was gone and the memory of how it had happened. All that blood. Try as I might, I could never wipe it away from my mind.
     
    The best way to go about my days was in a numb trance. Head down and hands busy, that was the recipe for survival. I didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention, least of all Angela’s. These people had tempers that too often ended in agony and misery for those unlucky enough to be in their warpath. I didn’t want that to be me. So far, I was fortunate.
     
    I stood up from Frank’s bed. “Leaving me already?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he looked at me over the top edge of the newspaper.
     
    “I’ve got to clean the living room today,” I murmured, “before Angela gets home.”
     
    “Don’t let her get to you, Isabel,” he admonished. “She’s all bark, no bite.”
     
    I bit my lip to hold back my tongue. Of course she would never dare abuse me in front of Frank. She knew he had a soft spot for me. But if only he knew what happened when he was out of earshot.
     
    I shuddered. I needed to make sure the living room was spotless prior to her arrival. I picked up the tray and started to head out.
     
    “Never be afraid to stand up for yourself,” Frank called out to me just before I slipped through the doors.
     
    I froze. Stand up for yourself. A boy in an alleyway had told me that a long time ago. I’d never forgotten it. Hearing those words come out of Frank’s mouth was spooky.
     
    “I won’t,” I said softly. But that wasn’t true. I’d stopped standing up for myself the day that the Capparellis took me from my father. Standing up would only get me killed.

Chapter 9
    Dominic
     
    Two knocks, a pause, two more. The door grill slid open at eye level. Two hazy brown irises looked out from the dim interior. It slammed shut again, then the mechanisms of the locks began to click open and the door swung aside to let me in.
     
    The prospect who was standing guard to the front door of the clubhouse stepped out of the way as I passed by him. I nodded in silent greeting, then walked down the dark entry hallway and emerged into the rosy light of the bar area.
     
    A few men were scattered about, nursing beers or talking to each other in rumbling voices. I remembered how intimidating everything had seemed the first time I came here twelve years ago at Slim’s side. That was back when Jawbone had first become president. So much shit had happened since then. This room, though, had hardly changed. Sometimes I wondered if the same men in here now were the ones who’d been in here when I walked in that day so many years back.
     
    Another time, I might find a quiet corner and down a beer of my own. But right now, there was business to be taken care of.
     
    I made