What Doesn't Destroy Us (The Devil's Dust #1)(39)

“Bitch!” he yells and slams his fist on the table. I look up offended. His expression softens when he sees the shock written on my face.

“No, not you; Candy. Seems she got what she deserves. If I had heard her say that I would have f*ckin' pistol whipped her. I should have done it to her mother.” He slams his cigarette out in the ashtray, pissed.

“I don’t think she will be messing with me anymore. I can handle my own battles, Dad.” His head whips up at the word “Dad”. I didn’t realize I even said it out loud; but he is my dad, is it so wrong to call him that?

“I can see that. You’re a Devil's Dust Princess.” His eyes brighten with a sense of pride as he speaks to me. Is it just me or does the word princess just sound ridiculous? Not that firefly was much better.

“Your mom is going to find out about this; everyone knows. Everyone saw Candy this morning and when asked about it she said to ask you. Candy’s mom will be blowing up my phone, I'm sure, and I know your mother is going to be on my f*cking back. I think I may just go fishing for the day.” He looks over at me and smiles big.

“Good luck, Darlin'.” He pats me on the shoulder and leaves the room.

Wow that was close. I don’t know how much longer Shadow and I will be able to hide our... whatever we are, from everyone. I push off from the table and notice my palms are sweating; talk about sweating bullets. Before I can leave the room, my mother steps through the door and pushes me back into the room. She slams the door behind her.

“What the hell is going on, Danielle Lexington?” she yells at me while pointing her finger in my face. Wow, she must be pissed; she used my full name. I pinch the bridge of my nose; this is getting really old. I'm sick of her treating me like a child; I'm f*cking twenty-one years old. I went with it before because I was so used to her protective ways. I was numb to everything around me; naive even. But now, I am more alive than I have ever been; everything is so clear and I’m done with this, with her. She can’t threaten to throw me out on the streets now. I have a place to call home.

I grab her finger and push it back at her, making her stumble. Returning to my seat, I look up and see shock and anger written all over her face.

“I want to know what you did to that poor girl, right now.” Her voice is low and trembling with every word. That poor girl? She never fails to surprise me, taking up for a club whore over her own daughter.

“I beat the shit out of her.” She gasps and walks over to my side of the table to look down at me. I can't tell if she's mortified with what I have become or furious.

Testing the waters, I look up at her standing over me and demand smugly, “yes?”

Before I can register what she is doing, she raises her palm and slaps me across the face so hard my teeth chatter. I get up so quick the chair is thrown backward to the ground.

“You bitch!” I yell at her, my hand caressing the sting she left across my cheek. My body instantly fuels with poisonous rage. I want to hit her back but I'm afraid if I lay a finger on her I might not be able to stop.

“Look at you; you are nothing more than biker trash!” she screams.

I smile at her brazenly. “My whole life I've done everything you wanted me to do without question and the only time you were ever there was to tell me what a f*ck up I was. Well, no more. I realize now I could have never made you happy anyway. I’ve always been biker trash to you; that’s what pisses you off more than anything. I’ll never go back to New York with you.”

She charges and slams her body into me. We fall to the dusty wooden floor, knocking chairs over in the process. My head smacks against the floor with a thud, making me see stars. She straddles my body and starts pulling my hair and slaps me in the face. I cover my face with my arms as she assaults me. That’s all I can do; if I move my hands to fight back she has full advantage of my face.

“You’re just like your father; so ungrateful, so stubborn. I couldn’t stand the sight of you past the age of seven! No matter what you did, you reminded me of him!”

My head screams with every strand of hair pulled and every pore in my face stings with each slap; not to mention the pounding that radiates through my skull from our fall. Just when I'm about to fight back, the slapping stops and her weight is lifted from me. I open my eyes to Bobby’s hand held out to help me up; when I stand he brushes the strands out of my face.

“You okay?” he asks calmly. I don’t answer. I look over his broad shoulder and see everyone in the room; Babs, Bull, Hawk, Charlie, Lips, Locks, even a few other members I haven’t met. How embarrassing. Locks has my mother by the forearms, holding her still as she huffs and puffs and tries to pull herself away from his tight grip.

I can feel the burn in my eyes. I blink tightly, trying to hold back my tears. I barrel through everyone and run outside to the garage across the courtyard. I walk into one of the bays and stare at the wall. The white paint is chipped and greasy; the smell of gas and oil surrounds me. My fingers wreak havoc on my lips as I try to calm myself from what just happened.

I may have just lost my mother for good this time, but is she really that big of a loss? Her words are what hurt me the most. It isn't surprising that she can't stand the sight of me, but hearing her admit it is like a knife through the heart. The stinging is becoming too much; I can feel my eyes welling up ready to spill unshed tears.