Bones: Broken Bones MC by Leah Wilde Read Free Book Online Page A

He looked about my age, maybe a little older. His eyes were a bright blue beneath dark hair that swept over his forehead, long and shaggy. His head was tilted at a curious angle. Something about his gaze made me think that he knew everything about me right away.
     
    “No reason,” I said, sniffling and wiping a hand across my eyes. I didn’t want to be seen crying. All I wanted was to be alone. Couldn’t this boy see that?
     
    “That’s dumb,” he said bluntly.
     
    I ogled at him. Did he really just say that? “What do you want?” I asked him defiantly.
     
    “I wanna know why you’re crying.” His head was still cocked to the side as he looked at me.
     
    I considered him for a moment and decided to tell him the truth. “My daddy hit me,” I said.
     
    The boy’s blue eyes flashed for a moment with an emotion I couldn’t quite read. “He shouldn’t do that.”
     
    I shrugged. “He’s my daddy. He can do whatever he wants.”
     
    “No,” the boy said as he shook his head, “he shouldn’t do that to you.”
     
    “Why not?”
     
    “Nobody should hit a woman.”
     
    I saw his fists curling. Part of me wanted to laugh. It was a ridiculous scene, after all. What was this teenage boy going to do to my grown man of a father? But another part of me saw how serious he was. “It’s not like I can do anything about it,” I said.
     
    “You should stand up for yourself.”
     
    “How?”
     
    “It doesn’t matter. Just find a way. You can always stand up for yourself.”
     
    I didn’t know what to say to that. To be honest, the thought had never occurred to me before. This was just how my life was destined to go. An angry dad, a failing restaurant, and chores that never ended. That’s what was in store for me. The idea of pushing back against those things was alien, too unheard of for me to even process.
     
    I asked, “Do you fight back against your daddy?”
     
    The boy’s fists relaxed. “I don’t have a dad.”
     
    My jaw dropped. “What do you do, then? How do you get food and stuff?”
     
    “I steal cars and sell them,” he boasted. “I can do whatever I want.”
     
    If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed them. Plenty of street kids lied about being bigger and badder than they were. It wasn’t the first time I’d talked to one of them while I was out back. But usually I could tell right away that they were phony. With this one, something was different. I believed him without questioning it.
     
    “What’s your name?” the boy asked.
     
    “I’m Isabel.”
     
    “Nice to meet you, Isabel. I’m Dominic.” He crossed the distance between us and stuck out a hand. I looked at it curiously. “Shake my hand,” he demanded.
     
    I reached out and placed my palm against his. His grasp was firm but gentle. I liked the warmth of his skin. He looked straight at me as he squeezed softly. His eyes were bright in the darkness.
     
    Just then, my father’s voice interrupted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing out here, Isabel? And who the fuck is this?”
     
    I dropped Dominic’s hand immediately. “It’s, um, just someone who, uh…”
     
    Daddy’s eyes narrowed. His gaze darted from me to Dominic and back again, dark and accusing. “You street rat, get the hell away from my daughter,” he spluttered. Saliva flew from his lips. “And get the hell away from my restaurant! Go on, get!”
     
    Dominic backed up slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He didn’t say a word, but I knew what he’s thinking. Stand up for yourself. He turned and walked away. I lost sight of him when he turned the corner at the end of the alleyway.
     
    Daddy gripped my arm and yanked me to my feet. “You think you can sit around and cry out here? Get the hell back in there and clean up the mess you made!” He hurled me in through the door he held open. My shoulders drooped as I walked back towards the disaster of a dining room.
     
    For a moment, when Dominic touched my