UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8) - Hayley Faiman (rooftoppers TXT) 📗

the center of his skull, watching it split his fucking head in two.

It’s perfect.

PAMELA

Maci continues to just stay in the corner for days. She seems to be a bit more comfortable, but she still doesn’t engage with anyone, not even Pinkie. I’m cleaning glasses and disinfecting the bar area when Pinkie slides up to my side.

“She okay?” she asks.

I hum, unsure if I can really answer that. I feel like I can’t. I don’t know her at all. The snips, bits, and pieces that she’s told me, I think she’s okay. I also think she’s not used to not getting what she wants and she really wants Bones. Now that he and his group have been around a while, I see the appeal. He’s nice, they’re all nice, but beyond that, they have charisma.

Charisma can be a bitch. It can make a girl want things she doesn’t understand. It can make a girl think that she wants something, when really it wouldn’t be good for her in the long run. I’ve seen too many girls fall for the men in my dad’s club because of that pesky little thing called charisma.

“I think so. She just wants Bones.”

It’s Pinkie’s turn to hum. “Can’t blame her. He’s fine as hell and a sweetheart, even if he’s into the kink he’s into.”

“They really keep women in cages?” I ask.

Pinkie’s lips curve up into a grin. “Collars around their necks too. It’s hot, but I’m not into that for an everyday thing. They live that life, they don’t just play at it.”

“Wow,” I breathe.

I’m not even sure how to process that. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. Not that that’s saying much, because I honestly haven’t seen much in my life other than the Donkey Punchers clubhouse and this one.

Pinkie laughs softly but doesn’t say anything else. I decide it’s a good moment to talk about her and me.

“You’re my mom, then?” I ask.

She licks her lips, her eyes finding mine and she dips her chin. “I’m a shit person. He thought I was dead. I took advantage and I left. But I left knowing what was going to happen to you.”

Tears well in her eyes as she doesn’t break contact. She holds my eyes with hers. Sadness, guilt, complete sorrow pours from her.

“I was on drugs for a long time. I met him when I was thirteen. That’s how old I was when he took me. After I got pregnant, that’s when he started sharing me. It was ugly and I was a little girl. I had no idea how to take care of you. I tried to get clean, took you to my grandparents in Arkansas, but he just drug me back to California.”

“I remember that trip. It was the safest I’d ever felt, until Jaguar saved me,” I admit.

Pinkie lifts her hand and cups my cheek. “Call me Alyssa. That’s my name. I’m sorry for everything. If I could go back…”

“You can’t, and I don’t want you to,” I snap. “You were a little girl. He abused you. I remember him hurting you. I remember him forcing drugs into your body. I’m not angry at you, I never was.”

“I should have given you up for adoption or to the state or something,” she murmurs.

“If you had, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have Jaguar and I wouldn’t have you.”

She gives me a small smile, laughing softly, obviously finding me funny and naïve. I don’t blame her, I am. I’m extremely naïve. I have no idea what the hell is going on in this world outside of the bubble I’m in.

But I’m happier today than I ever have been. “I don’t expect you to want me as your mother, but can you accept me as your friend?” she asks softly.

“You already are. Just don’t sleep with my man anymore,” I say, scrunching my nose.

Pinkie, or Alyssa as I’ve discovered is her real name, shakes her head. “You can trust me that will never happen again. Not that it has for a very long time.”

A sense of relief fills me that they haven’t been together for a while. Even Dylan told me that they hadn’t been and I’m glad for that.

Reaching out, I wrap my arms around her, and then she does the same. We hug one another, but I can tell that she’s crying. She excuses herself and hurries off. I don’t follow her, knowing that she needs a moment. However, I feel better than I ever have—freer, happier.

I look back over my shoulder at Maci. She’s watching me but quickly looks away, in the direction of Bones and his men. Biting the inside of my cheek, I shake my head, then make my way over to her.

Sinking down in the chair across from her, I lick my lips. “I’m not good at making friends, I never have been,” she states before I can even say a word.

Clearing my throat, I sit forward. “Confession?” I ask. She nods. “I’m not either. This group, the men and the women though? They’re awesome. I’ve never felt as safe as I do here.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel that. I just don’t know what the future will be for me.”

“I wish I knew,” I say.

She clears her throat and I notice that her eyes are watery. She’s scared. She’s not in love with Bones, she’s attached herself to him because he’s safe. She’s terrified. Reaching out, I wrap my hand around her wrist, just the way Della and Gisele and the other Old Ladies have done with me and I squeeze.

“It’s going to be okay.”

She nods her head, though I can tell that she doesn’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either. I have no idea what is going to happen to her when the guys come back. I hear a man clear his throat, and I look behind me quickly to see that it’s Bones. He isn’t looking at Maci, instead his gaze is focused on me and nowhere else.

“So you’re