Prologue

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"Brooklyn Jones, what do you think you are doing?" The voice carries up the stairs, slightly slurred but full of rage.

He's drunk again.

Boots stomp up the stairs, creaking on the last step before walking down the hallway towards my room at the very end of the upstairs landing; stuffing the last of my clothes into my duffle bag and zipping it up as the banging on the door starts.

I open the window on the far side of the bedroom, before shoving my bag and myself out of the window. "Brooklyn! They told me what your plan was! Down at the club; I will kill you myself before you do something that."

I run across the roof to the large oak on the corner, climbing down quickly before breaking into a quick sprint out of the little subdivision and towards the city. I make it to the edge of the buildings before I hear the loud rumbling of a motorcycle engine.

Daring a look back, I spot a familiar face and fear fills me as I pick up speed and keep going, pushing myself faster than I thought possible; my muscles begin to burn as the seat pours off my face.

I make it all the way to the recruiting station where the bus is loading, I'm safe. I'm safe.

Without a second thought, I climb aboard give a man with a clipboard my name and then settle down in the very back of the bus next to the window. Out of the window I notice more bikes coming to a stop about a hundred feet away.

My father, brothers, and a few members of the club watch the people filing onto the bus; my oldest brother, Dallas, attempts to hold my father back, while Justin and Michael walk towards the bus, Dallas' best friend Emerson following.

I feel my blood run cold as they attempt to board the bus to get me, but are pushed back by a few recruiters, then they give up and the bus pulls away from the curb.

Away from my family and friends. Away from my home. Away from all of the hurtful memories.

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