Hardy by Sam Crescent

Author:Sam Crescent [Crescent, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Skulls, Book 12
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“Sally is just through that room. She’s fifteen, and yes, she’s gone from one foster home to another, but give her time. She hasn’t had the best start,” the social worker said.

Lacey was nervous as she stood beside Whizz. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and glanced down at his watch. The longer this trip lasted the better. He didn’t agree with Lash and Angel, but he’d do what they asked.

“Will you stop?” Lacey said, digging him in the ribs.

“What?”

“This is our chance, and you’re going to ruin it. How do you think she’ll feel if she sees you looking at your watch?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.”

He walked into the room the social worker pointed to, and when he opened the door, he stopped. The girl, Sally, was sitting at a table, scribbling in a notebook.

“She’s doing her homework,” the social worker said. “Sally, honey, you’ve got visitors.”

The pen hovered over the page for a split second, and then Sally looked up. Whizz would have taken a step back in that moment. Her brown eyes were filled with so much pain, so much anguish. She knew she wasn’t wanted, that no one wanted her. The wall came down over her eyes as she stared back at them.

“Shall I leave you three alone?” the social worker asked.

Sally’s hand tightened around her pen. Whizz wasn’t wearing his leather cut as he’d not wanted to frighten anyone.

“Will you feel okay with us?” Lacey asked.

“Sure, whatever,” Sally said, glancing down at her work. She slammed the book closed, and he saw it was a math book.

Taking a seat opposite Sally, Whizz lowered himself down into a chair with Lacey by his side.

Sally kept looking at him, but none of them spoke until the social worker left.

“What happened to your face?” she asked.

Whizz smiled. He’d been tortured for hours in getting the scars on his face and body.

“I got into a bad fight.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He noticed both of her hands were clenched together where they sat on the desk.

“You don’t need to be sorry. Why are you afraid?” he asked, pointing at her hands.

She unclenched them, and even with the table separating them he saw little half moons that were indented from her clenching. “I’m not.”

“You’re terrified. Probably crapping your pants,” Whizz said.

The fire in her eyes let him know she wasn’t broken, at least not yet.

“Whizz, stop it,” Lacey said.

“I don’t get off on scarred men trying to scare little girls. What’s your kink? You into schoolgirls? Want to pass me around to men for money?”

He had his answer.

“I’m not into little girls, and neither is the club I ride with. I’m part of The Skulls. We’re a well-known MC.”

“I’ve heard of you.”

“A lot of people have heard of us. I take it you’ve been passed around foster homes, used.”

Sally broke eye contact. “No one wants a teenage girl who fights back.”

Whizz saw a loose tear spill down her cheeks. “How often do you cry?”

She wiped it away, and glared. “I never cry.

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