Free Sweet Submission (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Kathryn Thomas Page A

had confined her to their house in another attempt to keep the lovers separate. But, the prospect of never seeing him again, the prospect of Sam giving up after her family’s rude denial of the offer for marriage, made Afia’s throat constrict and her lungs wheeze for air. 
     
    He had said he would come back for her, but she didn’t know how he’d possibly pull that off. She cried loudly and with abandon, pouring her sorrow into her pillows. Her body felt battered. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, as she doubled over in the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. And then she abruptly stopped.
     
    Because she was fed up with it. Bionca had been right. Afia couldn’t let them dictate her life.  The resentment that was already building up within was evidence that her parents, though well-intentioned, were potentially severing any chances of a relationship with their daughter.  Sam’s only error had been in asking for permission. Sniffling, Afia reached for her cellphone on the nightstand and began to dial his number.  Permission hadn’t been granted. Her parents would just have to forgive her, instead.
     
    “Afia?” He answered in a rush, like he hadn’t expected her to call.
     
    “Sam, I need you to meet me at the supermarket a few blocks away from my parents’ house. I’m getting out of here. I can’t be without you.”
     
    “Darling, I miss you just as much. There’s no point in making them more upset tonight, though, and I don’t want you to be in any danger. Your father looked like he was ready to kill me when Rayan said—Let’s give them a chance to calm down and get comfortable with the idea of what’s done is done.”
     
    “You don’t understand, Sam! They’ll never be comfortable with the idea.  My father intends that I never see you again. I’m not giving up, and you shouldn’t give up. Don’t you see? This is the only way! I’m leaving in a half hour. I have to pack a bag. Just be there.”
     
    She hung up the phone before he had time to protest further, knowing instinctively that Sam wouldn’t let her down regardless of his qualms. He’d be at the supermarket. Afia pushed up off the bed and yanked a carry-on bag out of the top of her closet, stuffing a few articles of clothing within. She still had belongings at the apartment she had shared with Bionca prior to her Maman forcing her to come back to live in the family home.  Afia planned to retrieve those things as well.
     
    She’d move back in with Bionca or move in with Sam, but she wasn’t staying here. There was no way she could allow her parents to rule over another minute of her life.  Meanwhile, while they browbeat her over dating Sam, their only son was deteriorating more and more right before their very eyes.  The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her.
     
    Rayan burst into her room as she was packing. “Where are you going?” he spat. “You’re not to leave the house.”
     
    “Leave me alone, Rayan. You have no more control over me. You can’t even control yourself!”
     
    He yanked at her arm. “Come here.”
     
    Afia yelped at the squeezing pain of his grip. “Let me go!”
     
    She tried to pull away from her brother, but she wasn’t as strong as Rayan. He dragged her out of her room with Afia literally kicking and screaming.  “I heard you on the phone,” he growled. “You want to meet that cur, I’ll take you to him myself. We have no more use for you in this family. You refuse to see the light, then dwell in darkness!”
     
    “Rayan!” Rashad yelled.
     
    “She will learn!” Rayan cried out savagely, as he pulled her resistant body through the living room and out the front door. Gravel kicked up beneath her shuffling feet, and Afia jerked and twisted. Still, Rayan held fast. He pulled open the car door in the backseat and shoved her inside. Rayan swiftly hit the child safety lock and slammed the door, blocking her from climbing back out. He stumbled over to the other side