Chapter 1

Lucy Givens fidgeted in her bridesmaid dress. It was an elegant black chiffon dress and, according to her mother, could later be used as evening wear. She couldn’t see a need for ‘evening wear.’ No college boy would ever ask her out somewhere that would require something that formal.

Her older sister, Briana, came into the changing room wearing the same dress. The wedding was being held at their future home, a beach house owned by their future stepfather, Doyle Rothchild. Chairs and tents were set up in the backyard for the wedding. It had gorgeous views of the lake as the backdrop.

“I know you aren’t supposed to wear white to your second wedding, but blood red? Our mother has lost her mind.”

To get her sister sidetracked from ranting about their mother, Lucy asked, “Any word on the stepmonster?”

They’d labeled him the ‘stepmonster’ after they met for the first time. In all honesty, they couldn’t blame him for his reaction. Zagan had been off at a boarding school in Switzerland. When he came home for the summer, his father had sprung a dinner party on him to introduce him to his future stepmother and stepsiblings.

Doyle and Nyx, Zagan’s parents, had failed to tell him that they were getting divorced, let alone that his father was remarrying. Zagan had reacted to the revelation, in a word, badly. He’d called the girls’ mother a ‘gold-digging whore’ and made some other unflattering remarks that caused his father to backhand him out of his chair.

Zagan glared at his father and left the house.

Lucy couldn’t say that what Zagan had called her mother, Heather, didn’t have a grain of truth. Heather had had an affair with Doyle, and Nyx had found out. Then, only a few months after the divorce, Heather was marrying the wealthiest man in the state.

One interesting tidbit was that when Zagan went to move in with his mom, she sent him packing. He’d ended up spending the summer with his Uncle Damian to ‘become a man,’ as Doyle told them. Damian Rothchild was the President of the El Diablo MC, an outlaw motorcycle club located thirty hours away in Las Vegas.

Doyle had told them their stepmonster was returning today, and the three of them would be enrolling in Bernhard College. Bernhard was a local private junior college where the monied and privileged people sent their children as a springboard to one of the country’s elite universities.

Lucy was worried about attending a new school where she didn’t know anyone, but her mother pointed out that the connections she gained there would set her up for life. Bernhard College graduates were the who’s who of the state and, in fact, were in important positions in science, academia, and government across the country.

She was somewhat appeased when her sister assured her that she would look out for her. Briana was the more social of the two of them. At their high school, she had dated the quarterback and was the head cheerleader. Lucy had no doubt that her sister would fit right in.

As a matter of fact, Briana had taken full advantage of the new rules Doyle had insisted on. The first was that he believed in indulgence instead of abstinence. What that meant for Briana was she could freely go to parties and not return for a few days, with no consequences.

Her mother had put them both on birth control in case ‘the mood’ struck them. When their father found out, he lost his shit because they’d been raised Catholic. Shortly after, her father moved across the country and no longer wanted anything to do with them.

Their mother came in.

“It’s time.”

The wedding was like nothing Lucy had ever seen before. The priest was a giant of a man dressed in a black robe with a pentagram on it, and he wore what looked like a goat’s head. When it came to the vows, they turned her stomach.

“We renounce God and all his works forever and dedicate ourselves for eternity to Satan. We beseech you, Satan, our lord and master, to bless our union and help us become more wicked. Help us to do evil in your name. At the hour of our death, take us to your satanic bosom,” Heather and Doyle said in unison.

Shortly after the vows, the party started. It was interrupted when there came the rumble of nearly a hundred motorcycles rolling up. It was the girls’ new step-uncle’s club. The bikers wore leather vests with ‘El Diablo MC’ on the back.

“There’s the stepmonster,” Briana said, using her chin to point him out.

Zagan was getting off a sleek silver bike that looked like the sports car of motorcycles. He wore a vintage leather jacket and pants that looked to be glued to his body. When his helmet came off, both girls sucked in their breath. He’d let his hair grow, but what startled them was that his face was bruised. When he took off his gloves, they could see his knuckles were torn up as if he’d been in a serious fight.

Before, he’d had this prep-school bad-boy look. Now, he looked dangerous. He had become the guy that every father dreaded showing up at his front door because his daughter would never be the same when he brought her home. That was, if he ever took her home.

A van pulled up, and Zagan stepped over to the driver.

“I’ll show you where all my stuff goes,” he said, leading the big biker into the house.

Anyone with common sense left the party soon after the bikers and Satanists started to get drunk and wild. Lucy escaped into the house and went looking for her stepmonster, hoping they might come to at least an uneasy truce. After all, they would live under the same roof and attend classes together in a bit over a week.

She hoped that they could possibly be friends and she would have a brother to look out for her.

Zagan’s room was the attic, which was basically a vast apartment with its own entrance via a fire escape on the side of the house. Lucy made her way to the third floor and found the door open, so she walked in.

She followed the voices to Zagan’s bedroom. She found him with their neighbor, Kate Evens, who was an amazing-looking, dark-skinned girl. Lucy knew that Kate was a cheerleader because her sister had gotten in touch with the squad to see about joining when school started.

Kate was supposed to be a ‘good girl’ because her father was the minister at the local Baptist church. He might not be pleased if he knew she was at a satanic wedding.

“Hey, Lucy. You not much of a partyer?” Zagan asked when he saw her.

“Not like what’s going on out there,” Lucy admitted.

“Me neither,” Kate said. “I’m Kate, by the way.”

Zagan looked back and forth at the girls.

“Sorry, I just assumed you knew each other.”

“We just moved in last week,” Lucy said.

“I figured your mom would have had you living here as soon as she could. Maybe I overreacted the last time we met,” Zagan said.

“No, I think you pretty much figured it out. My mom is a gold digger,” Lucy said to make them all laugh.

Then she asked, “What happened to your face?”

“Uncle Damian’s idea of making me a man was to have me fight the bikers in his club. I got the hell kicked out of me when I first got there. Now I can hold my own. It was either learn or die,” Zagan said like it was no big deal.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about getting bullied,” Kate said.

Zagan just shrugged and then stood up.

“Let me take a shower to wash off the road, and then we can go hang out. Maybe we can go out on the boat like we did last summer when I was home.”

Kate glanced toward Lucy. It was apparent Kate wanted to be alone with Zagan.

“I can find something else to do,” Lucy said as she left.

“Don’t be silly. The more, the merrier,” Zagan said.

She could see Kate stiffen, but Zagan just got up and began to get undressed. The girls went to the great room, which probably had more square footage than the condo Lucy and her sister had lived in before moving here.

“I’ve had a long day and need a shower, too. Maybe I’ll see you some other time,” Lucy said.

“If Zagan said you can come, then you can.”

“Oh,” was all Lucy could think to say.

She got up and left before it got any more awkward.

Zagan stood under the multiple jets and let the hot water loosen his aching muscles. This house was a stark contrast to living with Uncle Damian. The El Diablo club building sat on a five-acre parcel, with a Harley-Davidson showroom in the front and cycle repair and the clubhouse in the back. Behind that, there were a couple of travel trailers where some of the unattached women lived. Zagan had been given a 600-square-foot POS (Piece of Shit) for his stay.

A hot shower was something he had never considered a luxury before this summer. Along with a lot of other stuff like being given a credit card for expenses, someone to cook his meals, clean his room, and do his laundry. Uncle Damian made him pull his own weight and be self-sufficient.

If he hadn’t been so angry with his parents, Zagan would have come home with his tail between his legs and begged his father for forgiveness. Ultimately, he was glad he hadn’t because his uncle was right; he needed to grow the fuck up.

On day one, he was told that the food, women, and alcohol were all club property and off-limits. He also learned that if he acted like a surly teen, he got his ass kicked. If he even looked at a member’s old lady, he got his ass kicked. If he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time ... he got his ass kicked.

Being punched and kicked by grown men quickly got his attention. It made him realize that his spoiled ways were over. Finally, he went to his uncle.

“What do I have to do?”

“You’re smarter than I thought. I figured you would need regular beatings for at least a week before you saw the light.”

Zagan just looked at his shoes, not saying anything, like he’d seen the club’s prospects do. That put a big smile on his uncle’s face.

“The first lesson is to listen, do what you’re told, and only speak when asked.”

Zagan nodded his understanding.

“Good. Now I have a job for you.”

There was a hierarchy in the club. For Zagan, it was simple. Everyone except the unattached women was above him. While he wasn’t allowed to touch them, he didn’t have to let the girls boss him around. It also meant he got the jobs no one else wanted to do. He was told to use his imagination if he wasn’t sure what that was.

Something he did have to do each day was fight. But now it was to learn to protect himself and how to stop getting the crap beaten out of him. So, three times a day, he would fight one of the members until one couldn’t go anymore, or Damian told them to stop.