Smoke Sky

Bony fingers dug into my hair and twisted sharply. Fletcher wrenched my face to his. Disappointment filled his formerly lifeless brown eyes. 

“Gemma, I’ve told you repeatedly. You must obey my wishes. You must respect your brothers. You are new to my family, but this doesn’t make you exempt. It doesn’t make you special. Do you understand?”

A thousand words of defiance formed in my head. True, I’d only been with Fletcher and his group for six months, my “brothers” boasting five years or more, but it wasn’t fair that I was picked on, probably because I was the only girl, and the smallest and greenest of the group. I should have left ages ago.

But where else are you going to go? Who else would want you around? Fletcher would find you and bring you back. You got yourself into this, Gemma. You have to deal with it. Your life isn’t going to get better than this.

Fletcher pulled my hair again, forcing my head back. I winced at the pain. 

“Tell me you understand.”

“I…” I want to kick you in the balls right now. “I understand.”

“Good girl.” He released my hair. Patted it into place. “Now, apologize to Tyler.”

He beckoned my “brother” over to his side. Tyler appeared like the obedient dog he was. If he was still in pain––and I damned hoped he was––I couldn’t tell. There was too much rage on his face.

“Tyler…” I would rather eat glass than talk to you. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t put any effort into sounding apologetic.

He snarled and lunged for me again. Fletcher put his hand on the taller man’s shoulder and held him in place.

“She apologized, Tyler. Now she’s going to share her findings with us.”

He nodded to Morris and Boyd to let me go. Boyd dropped my arm like it was on fire, while Morris stroked the side of my breast with painful slowness. I narrowed my eyes on him, though his gaze was glued to my chest.

“Touch me again,” I warned, “and you won’t piss straight for a week.”