Daughter of a Killer

by Lexi Archer

A thick hand lands on my throat. I glower at Brett.

“You’re going to regret trying to take me down,” he mutters into my ear before biting my earlobe.

“Brett’s the head of the Mutineers.” I burst out laughing. “Mutineers? What the hell is that?”

“Liking direction doesn’t mean that you have to give up your freedom.”

A rose with thorns. Now it’s a beautiful tattoo, honestly, but it’s one I’ve seen before. Several men associated with my father had that same style tattoo. I asked one about it after I realized so many of them had the same tattoo. “It means we spent our eighteenth birthday in jail.”

“What are you looking at?” he grumbles. Crap. I got caught staring. I shift my gaze to his brown eyes and gulp. His eyes are so cold, so fierce.

I really am my father’s daughter, just a bundle of rage and hatred. One day, I’m going to lash out.

I shift in my seat and glance at him quickly before facing front. “I’m wondering if Brett’s warning that Mr. Winters is a dick is true or not.” “Mr. Winters?” Tyler scowls. I raise my eyebrows. “You don’t like him either?” “No.” “Why not?” “He is a dick.”