By Sin I Rise : Part One (Sins of the Fathers Book 1)

I watched Maddox disappear inside the shabby farm building, a confident swagger to his gait. His biker buddies probably hailed him like a king after he kidnapped me. I moved toward the cage, trying to ignore the disapproving snarling of the dog in the cage beside mine, and my quickening pulse in response. It must have rained not too long ago because the stench of wet fur and pee made my stomach churn violently. The humidity and lingering heat only made things worse. I tried not to think of all the things my bare feet came into contact with on the dirty ground. I climbed on the hut, wincing as splinters from the rough wood speared my palms, and pressed against the rough stone of the back wall. It was growing dark around me, only making my situation seem more desperate. Out of habit, I reached into my back pocket for my phone, but of course they’d disposed of it.

Dad had always warned me about the dangers of our life, but neither he nor I had ever thought it would really come to this. That I’d actually be kidnapped.

I shuddered. It still seemed like a nightmare.

I didn’t know what time it was. I must have lost my watch like one of my shoes in my struggle, but hours must have passed since I’d been kidnapped. The idea that I had been passed out for hours perhaps sent an icy shiver down my back, wondering what these animals had done in the meantime.

By now, Dad would know. I wondered if he’d told Mom yet. He preferred to keep certain dark topics from her and me, but we weren’t stupid and knew more than he thought. Still, I wished there was a way to keep this news from Mom. She’d break down if she found out. Mom had never been built for this world.

And Amo? He’d probably do something absolutely stupid, even more stupid than his usual actions. I smiled, but soon tears filled my eyes. I blinked fast to push them back. I wouldn’t cry. Instead, I stared stubbornly ahead into the forest that surrounded the area, listening for sounds of a nearby road or human life. But apart from the occasional bird saying farewell to the sinking sun and the rustling of trees, I didn’t catch anything—except for the ruckus from the clubhouse.

Night fell and the bird song died away. The howls from the biker party increased in volume and were joined by the sound of breaking glass on occasion. Exhaustion, more emotional than psychological but just as potent, took hold of me. Yet, I wouldn’t fall asleep until my body couldn’t take anymore. Not with these animals—dogs and bikers alike—so close.

Pebbles crunched. I tensed and sat up as a man in his twenties stumbled in my direction. He was drunk and couldn’t even walk straight but had his gaze fixed on me. He collided with the bars then clung to them, his forehead pressing into the gap as if he wanted to squeeze through the metal. My eyes darted to the door, which was locked, but what if he had the keys?

He gave me a wide grin. “There she is.” He sounded as if he was trying to be a snake, dragging the s grotesquely. “Pretty princess.” He undressed me with greedy, hooded eyes.

My hands shook even worse and so I clung to my knees. His eyes darted to the cage door. I prayed he didn’t have the keys. Maybe he was drunk enough so I could overwhelm him and get away, but maybe he wasn’t, and he was definitely stronger than me. He stumbled toward the door, and rattled it, lightly at first, then harder. I breathed a sigh of relief when his angry shaking at the door didn’t do anything.

“Pity. Maybe later,” he said with a stupid cackle. Then he began to unbuckle his belt. It took him two tries to get the fly down, and I jerked my head away in disgust. Was he going to jack off right in front of me?

But soon the sound of liquid hitting the side of the cage echoed through the silence. A few warm drops hit my hands and I let out a disgusted scream, pressing even closer to the wall. “You animal!”

Steps rang out. “Denver, you asshole!” Maddox roared and shoved the other man’s chest so hard he just toppled over and laughed drunkenly, then fell silent.

Maddox was in his baggy jeans, but without a shirt, and his boot laces dragged over the ground. In the soft glow from the porch, I could see that he had several tattoos on his chest, one of them, over his sternum, a skull spitting fire. The shadows accentuated the ridges of his muscled stomach right down to the V of his hips.

“Fuck,” Maddox growled and kicked an unmoving Denver whose head lolled to the side. “The asshole passed out and pissed all over himself.” He turned to me, eyes crinkling. “Are you all right?”

“What do you care? You locked me in a dog cage.” My voice had become nasal as I fought tears. I held my hand away from me, wondering how I could get rid of the pee. My stomach lurched just thinking about it.

“I don’t,” he said coldly and turned to go. “Good night.”

“He peed against the cage and I got some of it on my hands,” I rushed to say, hating the desperate note to my voice. I was never desperate, at least not in front of strangers.

“Stupid asshole,” Maddox growled in the direction of his biker buddy, who definitely didn’t hear him before he said to me, “I’ll get you a towel.”

He turned and stalked up the pebbled way leading to the clubhouse.

I eyed the passed-out man on the ground but he didn’t stir. A couple of minutes later, Maddox returned with a towel. He held it out to me through the bars. I hopped off the hut, making sure not to land in the pee, and grabbed the towel. It was cold and wet. I smelled it, not trusting anyone around here, but I only caught the barest hint of detergent.

“It’s water and soap, or did you expect me to give you a towel with more piss?” Maddox said. He actually sounded offended. What right did he have to be offended? Was he the one in the kennel?

I wiped my hands, muttering. “How should I know? That guy wanted to pee on me, and you probably think that’s what I deserve for being my father’s daughter.”

Dad evoked hatred in many people, and by merely sharing his blood, I reaped the same emotions. Dad’s power had protected me from the force of people’s viciousness, their fear always greater than their dislike. Now I was left unprotected.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“No. Just because you’re a captive doesn’t mean you should be treated like dirt. I want your father, not you.”

I kept rubbing my hand with the towel, but the stink of pee from the kennel floor clogged my nose, so I still felt dirty. “So a dog cage is your version of not treating me like dirt?”

“That was a club decision.”

I tilted my head curiously. “And where would you have kept me?”

“We have a basement.”

“Sounds splendid.” I held out the towel.

He shook his head, watching me in a way that felt too personal. “Keep it.”

I nodded then made a beeline around the pee puddle and climbed back on the hut.

“I’ll have someone clean this up in the morning, or maybe afternoon, depending on when everyone’s sober.” He had the barest accent, one that didn’t belong here and one I couldn’t place but was definitely southern.

“You realize my father would have it easy if he attacked you now.”

“He would, but your old man doesn’t have the slightest clue where you are. We only recently moved into this clubhouse.”

“Where are we?” I asked casually.

Maddox watched me closely and slowly a smile formed on his lips, dimpling his right cheek. “For some reason I think it might be a mistake to tell you too much.”

“Maddox!” a high-pitched female voice called out.

Maddox sighed, looking up to a window where a naked woman waved.

“Your girlfriend is waiting for you to keep her entertained,” I muttered.

“Not my girlfriend, but I should go,” he said. He grabbed the guy on the ground and dragged him away.

Once he was out of sight and earshot, I released a shuddering breath. Tears pressed against my eyeballs. I wasn’t strong enough to hold them back.

Sitting in the dark, listening to the grunts and howls and barks of the dogs around me, silent tears trailed down my cheeks. It wasn’t cold but I couldn’t stop shaking. I’d always known Dad’s business was dangerous but it had only been a distant danger despite the bodyguards following my every step. They were dead now. Either the bikers had killed them, or Dad had done so the moment he found out they’d allowed me to be kidnapped. I didn’t blame them. Giovanni had annoyed me so much until I’d ordered them away to have a private conversation with him and get him off my back. Dad wouldn’t see it that way. He’d blame my bodyguards in his rage and I wasn’t there to tell him otherwise and take the blame.

I wiped the tears away eventually and stared off into the darkness blankly, listening to the occasional yowling of the bikers as they got more drunk. The huge dog in the left kennel began pacing, ears perking. It scratched at the ground then curled up. Despite my fear of the dogs, I felt sorry for them for spending their life locked in a small cage.

How long would I spend here? Maybe Dad and Matteo were already on their way to save me. I prayed that was the case. I didn’t want to find out what those bikers had in mind for me. Maddox might have saved me from being peed on, and pretended I was going to be treated decently, but so far everything pointed in another direction.

My beauty had been a weapon all my life, something to intimidate others without guns and violence, but now it was a liability. I’d been in my early teens when I’d realized the look in many men’s eyes, and I’d soon learned to twist it to my advantage, but now…

After I’d allowed myself one good cry, I promised myself to be strong in order to get out of this alive. Dad would do everything to save me but I needed to make sure he and Matteo didn’t get themselves killed while they did. I had to figure out a way to make it easier for him, or maybe even escape. These bikers weren’t the brightest candles on the cake. I had to find a way to trick them so I could run away.

My eyelids soon became heavy but I forced them open until they burned fiercely. The dogs snored in the kennels beside mine, probably dreaming of having me as their next meal.

A figure moved out of the house long after the party had settled down.

I recognized Maddox as he leaned against the porch, backlit by window lights. He was the tallest of all bikers. Occasionally the tip of his cigarette glowed up. Even without seeing his eyes, I could tell he was watching me. It was a tingling sensation. One I’d felt in the club where I’d first seen him.

Maddox White.

I knew who he was. Dad never shared the darker parts of his life with me or Mom, as if we couldn’t handle them because we were female. Mom didn’t want to know, and I had never really made an effort to find out more, because it seemed futile. It would have only piqued my interest further and made me resent the fact that I could never be part of the business even more. Yet, I’d heard the story of the bikers in New Jersey that my father had eradicated single-handedly. I made sure to keep my eyes and ears open at all times, and this massacre was still a popular topic among Made Men on social events. Since most men tried to be exceedingly entertaining around me to impress me, stories like that always reached my ears.

I took a deep breath and pressed against the rough wall. My fingers hurt from clutching my high heel. Maddox was the son of one of the bikers who’d been killed. He must really hate Dad, so I trusted his friendliness even less. So far, I hadn’t tried to think about their revenge plan. It would have only made me more nervous but having a clear overview of what might happen next could mean the difference between escaping here alive or in a coffin.

My pulse quickened at the realization of how close to death I was. All my life a possible threat to my safety had dangled over my head like a Damocles sword, but it had always been abstract, never something palpable I could grasp. Now Dad’s worries had manifested into reality and my annoyance for his insistence to keep me heavily guarded at all times seemed childish and naïve. Maybe it would have been good to prepare me in a similar way like he had Amo, really show me the dangers of our world. Now I was confronted with them with little preparation.

These men wanted my father, but to get him, they would certainly not shy back from hurting me. I’d never suffered a scar in my life. I prayed for the strength to remain dignified even if faced with torture. I wanted to do my family proud. These bikers wanted to sully the name Vitiello, but I’d do my best to thwart them. I had to trust that I had more of my father in me than he ever wanted for me.

I didn’t have any weapons, but one. Amo always said my looks were lethal. I had to hope I could prove him right.