Fuck.

I clenched my fists as the demons reared their ugly heads.

Marcus had infected our lives with his sins for long enough.  I may have grown up hating this woman for all she represented, for everything she had that I didn’t, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything other than compassion for her now.  She’d done nothing wrong other than falling in love with a man who didn’t have the capacity to love her back.  He’d taken her love and smashed it into pieces.

He’s broken all of us into pieces.

It’s time to put the pieces back together.

***

I needed to see my mother after Sharon left.  She’d stirred so many feelings and thoughts in me, and I had to get some of them off my chest.  Thinking of everything Marcus had put us through caused my skin to itch with agitation, and adrenaline surged through me at the thought of leaving all that shit behind.

The first thing I saw when I pulled into Mum’s street was Marcus’s bike sitting outside her house.

The second thing I saw was him yelling at my mother in her front yard.

The third thing I saw was red.

I parked the Jag and stormed towards them.  Rage blurred my vision but I managed to land a punch on his face.  He stumbled back, holding his face, anger radiating from every inch of him.  When he regained his balance, he came at me and punched me in the gut.

Pain.

I embraced it.

This was nothing compared to the pain of my youth.

The torment of my life.

My mother’s screams barely registered as he and I fought.

Nothing registered except my inescapable need to inflict pain on my father.

My thirst for his blood.

Every punch was for every moment he hurt us.

For every moment he ignored us.

For every moment he trashed the love we ached to give him.

“Donovan!”

My mother stepped into the fray.  She frantically tried to pull me away from the fight, but my rage had taken over.

My anger and hatred owned me.

It ruled me.

It stripped me of the control I’d carefully cultivated in my life.

“Donovan, you’ll kill him!  Stop!”

I ignored her.  I wanted to kill him.  His death could not come fast enough.

When he finally went down, I didn’t stop.  I kept punching.  His face was mangled, and every inch of it was covered in blood, but I could still hear his breathing.  I wasn’t done yet.

“Donovan!  I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Her words filtered through to me, causing me to stop.

Lose me?  Why would she lose me?

I turned to her with a questioning glance.

“If you kill him, you’ll go to jail.”  She choked on a sob.  “I’ve given him up...all I have left is you.  Please stop . . . ”

Fuck.

My mind frantically tried to process everything going on.  I looked down at my father.  Sprawled unconscious on the ground, bloody, and battered, but still fucking breathing.  I looked back at my mother.  Distraught, tears streaming down her cheeks, worry and panic clear on her face.

Fuck.

This was going to fucking happen, but not in front of my mother.

I stepped away from him.

“Go inside,” I said to her.

“What are you going to do?” she begged to know.

Before I could answer her, the rumble of bikes filled my ears.  Turning, I saw three bikes pull up.

What the fuck?

I stalked toward them.  “What the fuck do you want?”

They were Storm bikers, and one of them jerked his chin at Marcus.  “He asked us to meet him here.  You want to tell us what the hell happened.”

“No.  What I want is for you to fuck off and leave my father and I to deal with family fucking business.”

He pulled his gun out as a menacing look crossed his face.  “Doesn’t look like Marcus is dealing with anything.”

I stepped forward so the gun was pressing into my chest.  “You use that, and you’ll have shit come down on you like you’ve never fucking known,” I snarled.

The air tensed with a standoff none of us wanted to back down from.

“Donovan!”

I jerked my head to look at my mother.

Fuck.

Not in front of my mother.

Turning back to look at the biker, I muttered, “Put the fucking gun away, get your fucking president off my property, and fuck off.”

I stepped away from him and waited for him to do as I’d said.

They dragged Marcus out of the yard.  He’d regained consciousness and spat blood at my feet as he passed me.  “I always knew you were worthless,” he sneered.

His words no longer had the power to wound.

This was what freedom felt like.

I ignored him and went to my mother.

“Go inside, I’ll be there in a minute,” I murmured.  I wanted her as far away from him as I could get her.

She nodded and left.

After she was safely inside, I watched as Marcus left.  They’d put him on the back of one of their bikes and left his here.  Someone would collect it.  I could care less.

Pulling my phone out, I dialled a number.

“Hello,” he answered.

“I’m out.”

“What the fuck?”

“I can’t wait any longer.  It’s time to deal with Marcus now.”

“Fuck!  That fucks the whole plan, Blade.  Scott’s not ready yet.”