Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2) Read online

  “Then, why don’t you show it?” he asked, not looking like he believed me, but also giving me the impression he desperately wanted to.

  “I’ve just been overwhelmed with work. It’s all new to me.” Tell him you cheated.

  “You’ve been there for a while now.”

  “It’s still overwhelming, and I didn’t mean to neglect you. It’s just taking me a while to get things running smoothly. You were like that when you got your first job.” Tell him!

  “No, I wasn’t,” he scoffed. “I didn’t behave anything like you. And even with all the stress I’ve been under at school lately, I still ’ave time for you. You just don’t seem to ’ave any for me. I don’t like the way things are going with us, Clara.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, I need you to stop staying behind at that damn school and going to the gym so much. It feels like you’re avoiding me. I want you to come home to see me at the end of the day, to share our bed, instead of slinking off to the couch.”

  “I only did that once, and it was because you were drunk. You reeked. And you’re drunk now too.”

  “No, I’m perfectly sober. Too sober.”

  Although I didn’t agree, I kept my mouth shut, because everything else he’d said was true. I had been avoiding him. I’d also been lying to him. The time I’d gone to Dante’s house, I’d told him I was at the gym.

  He continued, “And when you’re actually ’ere, I need you to spend time with me, instead of wherever you go in your head.” He tapped it.

  I hit his hand away. “Stop it.”

  He pointed a finger at me. “No, you stop it, ’cause I’ve had enough.” He turned and stormed off, slamming the bedroom door shut behind him.

  I remained where I was, totally dumbstruck. Again, Markus was mild-mannered. He never picked a fight, but ... he knew something was wrong.

  He just didn’t know how wrong it was.

  ***

  I woke up on the couch, feeling stiff and sore. Although Markus had told me off for sleeping there the other time, I hadn’t thought it was wise to follow him into our bedroom after his drunken tirade, because no matter how hard he claimed he’d been sober, he wasn’t. It was better to wait for him to calm down or at least to sober up before I spoke to him again. I glanced at my watch, which flashed 5:58 A.M., which was a couple of minutes before Markus woke up on non-training days.

  Nervous about what kind of mood he was going to be in, I headed into our room, hoping he was back to his normal self—sober and genial. I stopped a few steps in, finding the bed empty and unmade. I checked the bathroom next, then the spare bedroom, surprised to find them both empty. I headed back into the lounge, peeking through the curtains to find his car still parked next to mine. I wondered whether he’d gone for a run or a swim at the beach, something he did quite often. Though, I couldn’t imagine him doing it with a hangover. Or maybe he’d taken the bus to work again, avoiding me just as much as he’d accused me of avoiding him.

  Sighing, I headed back into the bathroom, having a hot shower. I stood under the heat for much longer than usual, needing it to massage the aches and pains out of my body from my uncomfortable sleep. I eventually got out and dried off, then dressed and had a bite to eat, hoping Markus would walk in at any moment. When the time came for me to leave for work, he still hadn’t shown. I dialled his number, getting a “What?” in reply, his tone telling me his anger hadn’t dissipated.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “School.”

  “Why so early?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Markus?”

  “You slept on the couch again.”

  “Because you were angry with me last night.”

  “’Cause you’ve been ignoring me! So, what do you do? You go sleep on the couch after I tell you it upset me the last time.”

  I went silent. Again, I didn’t know how to react to his out of character behaviour. It was throwing me off, making me respond slower than I normally would have.

  “You still there?” he asked.

  “Yes. And I didn’t sleep on the couch to upset you,” I forced out, feeling my chest constrict, worried he was going to shout at me again. “I didn’t think you wanted me in the same room after you stormed off.”

  “Lately, you never think.” He hung up, leaving me clutching the phone.

  A touch of anger and indignation crept into my thoughts, which I quickly dispelled. I had no right to be angry with him, because he was right. He may have misunderstood my intentions about his mother and sleeping on the couch, but I had been avoiding him. I just didn’t know how to fix it or even if I wanted to, the distance between us growing by the day. And every time I saw Dante, it added more distance. My feelings for Dante was causing a rift between us that was starting to grow so wide I wasn’t sure we could repair it.

  Or even if I wanted to.

  17

  Dante

  My alarm went off. I slammed a hand down on it, grumbling as I sat up, the makeshift bed damn uncomfortable. I yawned and rubbed my face, looking around the room. It was filled with other makeshift beds, my dad sleeping in the one on my right. We’d stayed at our gang’s headquarters, along with Jasper and his family. Hemi had told us that we weren’t allowed to go back home until the Devil’s Crew stopped shadowing us.

  Jasper snorted in his sleep on the other side of me. He turned over, making his bed squeak. I rubbed my face again, Jasper godawful to sleep next to. Not only was he a snorer, he couldn’t keep still, constantly turning over, making his bed groan under his weight. Not to mention, he’d kept me up late, bragging about how he’d made Phelia piss her pants. He was such a bastard. I couldn’t believe how fast he’d gone from wanting to fuck her to terrorising her. I pitied the next chick he set his sights on.

  I pushed out of bed, my attention falling on my dad. His face was peaceful in his sleep, no worries creasing his brow. It was a rare sight to see, especially of late. And it wasn’t just over me getting my arse hauled in by the coppers or the Devil’s Crew following us. I knew it was to do with Ash, knew what he’d found out about Ms. Farris reminded him of what my stepfather had done to my bro. Which meant he could never find out about Mrs. Hatton, what had happened to Ms. Farris a harsh warning.

  I grabbed my toiletry bag and unlocked the door. My dad probably had bolted it to keep Jasper’s psychotic uncle out of the room. The dude was straightjacket crazy, not to mention having a giant boner for my dad.

  I headed down the passage that led to the communal showers. Luckily, no one was using them, so I stripped off and got under the closest showerhead, shooting back at the sudden burst of cold water. Once it was warm, I grabbed the shampoo and stepped under the spray again, washing off the smell of cigarette smoke, the only thing I didn’t like about the club bar. Unlike other bars and pubs, where it was illegal to smoke inside, people were allowed to smoke anything they wanted. The gang’s headquarters didn’t abide by any laws other than their own.

  I soaped up, wishing I was back home, my bed so much more comfortable than the makeshift one. Like with Jasper, every time I turned over it squeaked as though two people were going at it. Times that by Jasper’s snoring, and I had one shit night. Though, I shouldn’t have felt tired after I’d slept through all my classes the day before. I’d woken up at the final bell, finding Annabelle fast asleep next to me, zonked out on the drugs we’d taken. I’d shaken her awake, the girl looking all dozy until I told her school was finished. She took off in a panic, yelling she’d see me later. I hoped her uncle didn’t make her change schools, because it was nice to chill with someone who wasn’t all up in my face, bossing the shit out of me or trying to get a hand down my pants. Just there to relax, laugh—nothing more.

  I rinsed off the soap and turned around, yelling out at the sight of Jasper’s auntie. She was standing in the doorway with a towel, staring at me.

  “Bitch!” I barked, covering my junk, my heart still racing. “Get out! This
is the men’s showers.”

  “I didn’t realise.” She smiled at me, her eyes licking up and down my body.

  “You lying cunt.”

  Her gaze settled on my face. “Don’t be rude, it wuz an honest mistake. I didn’t know anyone wuz in here,” she said, sounding sincere, but looking the complete opposite, her stare lecherous. Her eyes lowered to what my hands were covering. “You wanna play a game of peek-a-boo, sweet pea?” She licked her lips.

  I shuddered with disgust. “Stop lookin’ at me like that. I’ll tell my dad.”

  Her eyes rose to my face. “You won’t say shit, unless you want me to tell him you’ve been dealing drugs. By the way, how’s your cousin?” She grinned, knowing my silence was guaranteed. If she spoke to my dad, he’d instantly know my cousin was supplying me, which would end in Hunter breathing through a tube. If anything, Ms. Farris had got off light, since my dad didn’t treat women or men any differently. And there was no way I was letting him hurt my cousin, especially since it wasn’t even Hunter’s fault. I’d bugged the shit out of him for product, until he’d given in. Hunter was doing me a favour, one that kept my dad from bankruptcy. But my dad wouldn’t understand that, and there was no way of convincing him otherwise.

  Ngaire ran a finger over the skin above her tank top, pulling down the material a fraction. She looked like she was imagining what she wanted to do to me. “Wish my brother didn’t order us all ’ere,” she said, again perving at my body. “I wuz really lookin’ forward to last night. Bought those condoms I mentioned.”

  “I wuzn’t gonna show, so shove that box of condoms up your arse.”

  She sneered at me. “Then, how ’bout I go let your secret outta another box?”

  “You can’t blackmail me anymore. I have a secret against you now. You talk, I talk. Hunter won’t be the only one ending up in hospital.” I smiled at her. “You’ll be right next to him, just without your teeth.”

  “You forgot who I used to fuck. Jonah will protect me from your dad, but he won’t be so kind to you.”

  “You wouldn’t betray the club.”

  “You wanna take that risk?”

  “If you’re so tight with Jonah, then go fuck him and leave me the hell alone.”

  “I like fucking you much, much more.” She twirled a finger through her long brown hair, giving me a wink. “You made me come twice.”

  I glared at her, the bitch doing that all on her own. She’d gotten off on me, using my body as a fuck toy.

  She exhaled, now looking frustrated. “Oh, come on, Dante, there’s no need to be so unfriendly. After all, I did make you come too.”

  Heat hit my cheeks. “I didn’t want it,” I spat, the shame of it making me feel sick. She’d blackmailed me into having sex with her, using the information she had on me to make me compliant. But I hadn’t been able to get hard, so she’d told me to close my eyes and think of someone else.

  Mrs. Hatton.

  I’d pretended it was Mrs. Hatton blowing me, then imagined it was her riding me. I’d come saying her name, not Ngaire’s, but the bitch didn’t care as long as she got off.

  “You still came,” Ngaire said. “And you’re gonna do it again.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll give ya a day to rethink your priorities, then I’ll ask you again tomorrow, and if I don’t hear what I wanna...” A cruel smile curved her lips. “Someone will be gettin’ an anonymous call. Someone a lot nastier than me.”

  I turned away from her, not even caring she could see my naked arse. I just couldn’t look at her anymore, the woman making me want to spew. I continued cleaning myself, hoping she’d just leave. Still facing away from her, I tipped my head back, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.

  “What are you doin’ in ’ere?” a male voice barked.

  I spun around as Ngaire squealed. Her brother was standing behind her, glaring down at Ngaire, Hemi’s hard eyes boring into his sister.

  “Hemi!” She placed a hand over her heart. “You scared the living daylights outta me.”

  “I asked you a question,” he growled.

  “The women’s showers had no hot water, so I wuz hoping to catch a shower in the men’s. I didn’t know anyone wuz up. I wouldn’t have come in ’ere if I knew the boy wuz showering. I wuz ’bout to leave when you scared the bejesus outta me.”

  “Just go get the breakfast ready. You can have a shower afterwards.”

  “No worries.” She shot around him, disappearing down the corridor.

  Hemi shoved his boxers down and stepped out of them, making me look away. The guy’s stomach was so big he could give birth to sextuplets. Not to mention he had a third leg down there, Hemi’s cock massive. Grossed out, I turned off my shower and dried myself, hooking the towel around my hips once done. Grabbing my toiletry bag, I walked over to the line of mirrors, stopping at Hemi’s voice.

  “Has my sister done anything like this before?”

  I turned to face him. “What do ya mean?”

  He frowned at me from under his showerhead. “Turned up when you’re naked or undressing, talked to you in any way that made you feel uncomfortable?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, not sure whether I should say anything, what she was holding over my head making me fearful of ratting her out. “No,” I finally said, not willing to risk it.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, why?” I said, playing dumb.

  “Jasper’s been complaining ’bout you bein’ rude to her. You used to like Ngaire, then all of a sudden you’re bein’ a right cunt to her. Then I catch her in ’ere while you’re showering. Is there anything you wanna tell me?”

  I stared at him, wondering whether he’d picked up on what my dad was too dumb to. “No,” I muttered, again not willing to risk my dad finding out about my drug dealing.

  “So, she wuzn’t perving?”

  “No, I didn’t even know she was there,” I said, the lie falling from my lips so easily.

  “Then why are you bein’ a cunt to her?”

  “I’m a cunt to everyone.”

  He exhaled loudly, a touch of relief tempering his expression. “That you are.” He threw the soap at me so fast it got me in my chest before I could move.

  “Arsehole!” I snapped, rubbing my chest.

  “You’ll be seein’ one very soon if you don’t turn around.”

  I turned to the mirror quickly and picked up my shaving cream, wishing I hadn’t lied to him.

  ***

  Hemi snatched the meat pie out of Jasper’s hand, getting a loud yell in return. It was Jasper’s second one of the morning. The club’s kitchen smelled of mince and cheese, Jasper having nuked both pies to death.

  Jasper went to grab the pie back. Hemi spat on it and held it out for him.

  “You arsehole!” Jasper yelled. He yelled again, but this time in pain as his dad smacked his head.

  His uncle and another gang member, who were sitting at the dining room table, started sniggering. Jasper flipped them off, ducking as his dad went to hit him again, Hemi barking, “Watch your mouth!”

  Jasper bolted for the door to hoots of “Run, fat boy, run!” from his uncle.

  Hemi’s eyes snapped to Painkiller. I’d assumed when I’d first heard Hemi call his brother ‘Painkiller’ it was a nickname, but it wasn’t, the name actually on his birth certificate. Though everyone else called him Killer, Hemi the exception.

  “Watch what you say to my boy, Pain in my fucking arse,” Hemi spat.

  Killer grinned at his brother. “Nah, I’d prefer the pain to be in my arse,” he said, the guy constantly reminding everyone he was gay. Like the time he’d walked into the club wearing spray-on rainbow pants and a unicorn horn, which he’d worn to the Gay Pride Parade.

  The other man sitting with Killer sniggered again. Hemi stormed over to him, yanking the table away. Fabian scrambled out of his chair, while Killer remained in his seat. The nutjob grinned up at Hemi, looking like the loon he was.

  Hemi lowered his
face to his brother, who was a good fifteen-years younger than him, somewhere around twenty. “You watch what you say ’bout my boy, Pain, or I won’t hold back on you.”

  Killer’s grin disappeared. “It’s the fuckin’ truth. He’s turning into a fat pig like you.”

  Hemi dropped Jasper’s pie on the floor and grabbed Killer by his leather cut, hauling him up. He slammed his brother against the wall by the stove, both men as tall as each other. But unlike Hemi’s volumes of fat, Killer was all muscle. The leather cut he was wearing didn’t cover much, his six-pack on full display. The guy was ripped to the max, cut finer than a bodybuilder, just without the bulk. Killer was nothing but lean muscle, which he liked to show off. The dude had a habit of walking around in painted-on leather pants that would get him arrested for indecency outside the compound. Everything, and I mean everything, below was outlined, nothing left to the imagination, which was embarrassing as hell, since the looney tune was as hung as his brother.

  Instead of pushing Hemi away, Killer leaned forward and kissed his brother full on the lips.

  Hemi yelled out and shot away from him, wiping a hand across his face, his expression disgusted. “What the fuck, man?!”

  Killer cackled. “Unlike some people, I don’t hit kin.”

  “I’d prefer a fuckin’ punch than a kiss, you crazy sonofabitch!”

  “Hey, watch what you say ’bout our mother.”

  Hemi sneered at him. “We don’t have the same mother, dipshit.”

  “Yes we do, well, maybe not yet.” Killer grinned. “Not sure if Dad’s had that sex change op he wanted so bad.”

  Hemi pointed at the door. “Just get the fuck outta my sight!”

  “Aye, aye, Vice Prez,” Killer said, sauntering past him. He leaned down and picked up the pie off the floor that Hemi had spat on and bit into it, getting yells of disgust from everyone. Cackling like a loon, he headed for the door, stopping by me. “Is your daddy here?”