Free Black and White (Storm's Soldiers MC Book 1) by Paige Notaro Page A

were casting a spell. “Vaughn.”
    “I love those short hard names,” Teresa said. “‘Fuck me Vaughn.’ It’s so easy to scream out.”
    “Hey, easy,” I said.
    “Chill, baby. I’m not gonna steal him. Just giving you advice.”
    The advice continued after we closed down. I negotiated down from drinks to a diner and as we sat waiting for midnight toast and pancakes, they took turns grilling me.
    “Was he big down south as his muscles were?”
    “Did he ride you like a bike?”
    “What did he call you while you were fucking?”
    “Did he like to slap you around?”
    I must have shouted out my “No,” to the last one, cause they stopped in their tracks and we kinda stared dazed at each other across the booth. A second later, I realized she’d just meant it a sex thing.
    “Sorry,” I said. “It’s a…”
    It was too late. Their eyes were lit up, all intent. We hung out often, but I’d never shared too much of my past with them. I sighed and decided that this might as well be how they learned about the most recent dark bit of it.
    “It’s a trigger,” I sighed.
    “A trigger?” Kiara looked confused, but new awareness shone on Marissa’s face.
    “Yeah, when you said slap – what I really saw was a clenched fist hitting me. Over and over and again.”
    They leaned in and I told them the truth about why I had left Rico.
    We had been lounging on the couch as usual, me bored, just watching him play one of his football video games. Ever since he’d started med school, it’s all he liked to do after coming from work, sometimes even while we ate. He called it practicing finger-work to be a surgeon, but I’d done the research. No one needed three hours of practice each day. Still, I could abide the boredom, even tolerate his growls when I suggested watching a movie together or something. But that day I nestled in a bit too deep and hit the remote. The power went off right as the fake audience on TV roared from some intense play.
    Soon there was another roar in my ears. Rico screamed like I had murdered his family. He turned on me with rage, saw the sheepish apology on my face, then without warning, started punching my gut over and over, as if it was some sort of pillow.
    Kiara clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oh sweetie,” she whispered.
    “Fucking asshole,” Marissa spit at the floor. “Let me guess. He was a fucking Latino macho man before this too?”
    I shook my head quickly. “No, he was quiet when he met. He changed after he started med school. I guess he had a lot more stress, and he couldn’t handle it.”
    “Don’t make excuses for him,” Kiara demanded. “Did you stay? Tell me you didn’t stay.”
    “I didn’t. I didn’t. I coughed a little, and then the pain hit. I started crying and he started crying. He said he didn’t even see me - as if that were better. I remembered the devil look on him though. He could see me alright. I just called my brother and walked out.”
    “Yes,” Marissa said, stern and nodding. “Perfect, baby. Perfect.”
    “Did you brother do anything to him?” Kiara asked.
    “I never told him the truth. He might have killed the boy. There were no bruises visible so I just told him we got in a fight, not that it was physical or one-sided. Later we went back to get my stuff, and Rico didn’t say a god damn word.”
    “He didn’t apologize?”
    “I blocked all his texts. I didn’t want to give him a chance. I struggled to get where I was and the last thing I needed was a man kicking me down. I wasn’t gonna risk throwing my life away for him.”
    The girls beamed in solidarity. They offered up their own stories of abuse. None were so bad as mine, but it made me feel better.
    Of course, my story hadn’t had that clean an ending. I’d fallen into a depression, dropped out of school and barely slithered along for a while. But hey life wasn’t over yet, was it? I was here now, at least, and there were worse places to be than in Little 5 with