Destroyed

By T.O. Smith

I've been in love with my president's little sister for years.

She's broken - destroyed.

But I'm determined to save her.

I'll give her a purpose. I'll make every demon that makes her suffer my demons as well.

I'm going to save this woman...

Or I'm going to die trying.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tiff Thomas
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005011970

T.O. Smith

T.O. Smith believes in one thing - a happily ever after.Her books are fast-paced and dive straight into the romance and the action. She doesn't do extensively drawn out plots. Normally, within the first chapter, she's got you - hook, line, and sinker.As a writer of various different genres of romance, a reader is almost guaranteed to find some kind of romance novel they'll enjoy on her page.T.O. Smith can be found on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and now even TikTok! She loves interacting with all of her readers, so follow her!

Book preview

1

Iclenched my jaw as I glared at Ink from across the room. We were on the outs – again. It was a common occurrence. I got lost in my head, got too buried in the depths of my darkness, and I pushed him too hard—too far—and made him walk away.

We were hot and cold—didn’t fucking mix well. But for some reason, the man never fucking gave up on me.

I didn’t even pretend to try to understand it. Fuck, I hadn’t even let him have a fucking taste of anything except my lips since we started this shit years ago.

I couldn’t let him see my body.

So, for him to always be like this, always eventually coming back to me, I didn’t fucking get it.

Men like him didn’t work with women like me. We just weren’t fucking compatible.

Gloria moved up beside me as she began mixing a drink for one of the guys. I don’t know why you keep getting all twisted up inside about him when you keep sending that poor man through the wringer.

I narrowed my eyes at Gloria. Watch yourself, I warned her.

She sighed as she slid the drink across the bar to Whiler with a smile before she turned her body to face me. Jessie, all I’m saying is that you need to get your head together, Gloria told me, looking at me with no judgment in her kind eyes. She understood. But she was also the kind of person to tell me when I was being a bitch, which I knew I was, but goddammit, that man pushed all my fucking buttons.

Ink loves you with every fiber of his being, but a man can only take so much, and it’s going to kill you inside when he finally admits defeat and walks away from you.

I didn’t even bother to respond, and I knew she didn’t expect me to. I just tossed my bar towel onto the counter and strode out from behind the bar, moving down the hall towards my room at the back of the clubhouse. I wasn’t listening to any more of what she had to say. I wasn’t interested in fucking hearing it.

The Sons of Hell—my brother’s club—was all I had known for years. And Ink, who was my brother’s VP as well as his best friend, had fought hell and high water to stay by my side despite my brother’s warnings.

Me? I was so fucked up that I just went through continuous motions of letting him in and then pushing him away.

After all of this time, I still struggled to cope with what had happened to me.

It had been so dark—so fucking dark.

I shook my head, shaking the memory away as I pushed open the door to my room, shutting it back behind me once I was safely inside of my sanctuary.

I kicked my boots off and shoved them to the side, moving towards my bathroom. I stared at my face in the mirror, staring at the scar that ran through my eyebrow and down my cheek. I hated that scar—hated it with every fiber of my being—because it was just a sore fucking reminder of the shit I had gone through.

The shit I had barely survived.

I’d been rescued from Charles, and sure I was physically alive. But inside? I was dead. Just like now. There wasn’t any saving me. I lost myself during that torturous time, and Charles took my soul with him to Hell when Tristan—the old Sons of Death’s president—put the bullet between his eyes.

Now, I was just a shell of the woman I used to be.

I used to be so full of life—always partying, dancing, having sex, just being a fun club girl. There was so much life inside of me. I gave my brother absolute hell. Adelaide, Joey’s old girlfriend, was my damn best friend during that time. We got caught in all kinds of bad shit together—shit Joey always had to save us from.

Sometimes, I felt like my brother would prefer to continue saving me from all of those bad situations than to see me like this.

But what else was I supposed to do? I didn’t know how to cope. I didn’t know how to deal with the shit that was running through my fucking head, twisting me all around every second of the day.

Some women, like Adelaide and Elaina—my brother’s woman—came out on top like true fucking queens.

Some of us—like me—never escape out of that fucking dark hole.

A tear slid down my cheek.

Shaking my head, I pulled my shirt over my head. I wouldn’t cry—fucking couldn’t. I was so tired of crying all of the time. I just wanted to feel numb. Was that too much to ask?

I stared at my body in the mirror. I tried not to anymore. But some days—like today—it was hard not to stare at the mess I had become. I was hardly eating anymore, which was the fight Ink and I had earlier. He found out that I wasn’t, and he confronted me about it.

He wasn’t the kind of man to just let me lay around and neglect myself.

I flipped my shit—told him I wouldn’t be controlled—that he could find some other club bitch if he was just looking for the classic, perfect old lady to follow his every command.

Eating was the only thing I felt like I had any kind of say-so in—any kind of control over.

My body? It was littered with scars—healed cuts, cigarette burns, whip lashings. The skin on my back was mangled, and it had never healed properly. Instead, I was left with this shit to deal with.

I quickly stripped out of the rest of my clothes and stepped into the shower. And I cried. I couldn’t help it. I was so weak, so destroyed. There was no saving a woman like me.

I dropped to my knees on the floor, dropping my face into my hands. Charles had always had a thing for me, and I had ignored all of his advances. So, he had taken me as his the first moment he could, and he fucking destroyed me. He made sure no other man would ever want to look at me.

I hadn’t let Ink touch me. Ink and I—we’d never even had sex, not even orally. I had never let him see my body. He respected that—gave me space when I wanted to shower or change my clothes.

I didn’t deserve a man like him.

I sobbed, my shoulders shaking. Some days, I wanted to commit suicide, but then, that would only send me to Hell right along with the man that still haunted my fucking dreams, still haunted my every waking thought.

Because of Charles, I barely held myself together anymore. I could barely stand it when another man that wasn’t Ink touched me. I even flinched at my brother’s comforting touch—the one man that I knew would never fucking hurt me, only protect me and take care of me.

I was so lost in my head that I didn’t hear the bathroom door open, but I jerked up in shock, my panicked eyes meeting Ink’s when he flung back the shower curtain. My bottom lip trembled, and his eyes reflected what I knew was in mine—pain, suffering, anguish.

No, baby, he whispered. He stepped into the shower fully dressed, and he pulled me into his arms, cradling my naked body in his arms as he sat on the shower floor. Not like this, my girl. Not alone.

I sobbed, my tears coming harder and faster. His hand was touching my back, but he wasn’t even paying it any attention. He just held me close to him, his arms circling around me like bands of steel. I’m a mess. I’m so sorry, I cried.

"Shh, he soothed, his lips brushing over my temple. I sobbed. You may be a mess, my girl, but you’re my fucking mess, you hear me? Don’t do this shit to yourself, baby. I’m here. No matter what the fuck we fight about, you can always come to me. I’ll push aside whatever we were fighting about, and I’ll hold you together until you feel like you can do it on your own again."

He destroyed me. I hiccupped. I can’t—you can’t want me like this. I’m not strong enough.

That’s a fucking lie, he grumbled. You’re stronger than any fucking woman I know. You know why? I looked up at him through my dark eyes, his green eyes clashing with mine. Because I can see how much it kills you to force yourself out of bed every morning, and yet you do. You put on a brave face for all of us fuckers here, hiding your pain behind those beautiful, dark eyes. Not a goddamn other woman I know can do that shit, my girl.

But my body—my face—

He cut me off by pressing soft, tender kisses to the scar on my face as he ran his hand over my back. I whined, my hands fisting in his wet cut as more tears slid down my cheeks at his tender touch.

Perfect, he rasped. Your scars show your strength, my girl, and that, in my eyes, is just a visual reminder of the strength you carry inside of yourself. He gripped my chin and tilted my head back, forcing me to look up at him. How long were you planning on hiding from me, baby?

A wry, broken smile titled my lips the slightest bit. Forever, I admitted in a soft whisper.

He took my lips in a soft, slow kiss. You don’t have to hide anymore, my girl. Because now, I’ve seen it all, and I love every broken, fragile piece of you. He cupped my cheek. There are no more excuses for running, Jessie, no more hiding. This— he grabbed my hand, placing it on his chest, me—this is what matters, he told me. My bottom lip trembled. I’m here. And I know you’re stubborn as fuck, but after what I just saw—what I just walked in on—I’m never fucking walking away from you again. He smiled wryly. I don’t give a fuck if we shout this entire fucking clubhouse down to the ground.

I’m not easy to get along with. I reminded him, that fucked up, dark part of me still trying to push him away.

He shrugged. Neither am I, my girl.

I shook my head at him. You’ll give up, I told him.

He arched an eyebrow at me. Jessie, I deal with your fuckard of a brother all fucking day. My lips tilted up into a smile and so did his. I’m sure I can deal with you.

You’ll walk. Mark my words, I told him. There’s no way you could want someone that looks like me. You’ll get bored of the pretense.

He grabbed my hand and placed it over the crotch of his pants. My eyes widened, my lips parting in a shocked ‘O’. His cock was hard as a rock under my hand. His eyes narrowed on my face. Does this fucking feel like I’ll ever get tired of looking at you, baby? he asked me, his voice raspy. It’s taking everything in me right now not to bend you over the side of this tub and bury myself in you, show you what being fucked by a real man is truly like.

I swallowed thickly. He leaned down and kissed me. No more hiding, Jessie. And trust me, if I’d known you were hiding this from me all that time ago, I would have put my foot down with you a hell of a lot sooner. I opened my mouth to protest, but he placed his index finger over my lips, shutting me up. No. Not another word, Jessie. I’m in this with you for the long haul. Fight me on this all you want, but I’m pushing back, and I don’t give a fuck if I have to back you into a corner. I’m not standing by any longer and watching you do this shit to yourself, not when you’re suffering this fucking bad.

He stood up, pulling me up with him before he released me and stripped out of his boots and clothes, standing naked in front of me in all of his tattooed, muscular glory. Ink was huge—every part of him perfectly-defined muscle. Heat spread on my cheeks when I saw how hard he was for me.

Oh, boy.

Not right now, he told me. He turned my back to face him. I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut, but his hands slid down my mangled back, pressing soft kisses to the raised scars there. It took everything in me not to burst into tears again. Right now, I’m taking care of you.

2

Ink

I’d joined the Sons of Hell as a seventeen-year-old kid. I had no home. My mother was a junkie. My dad walked out when I was little. I was just a scrawny teen that didn’t know anything better. At seventeen, I had been in and out of juvie, done almost every single drug there was to do. My rap sheet was already long as fuck.

Joey had seen me sleeping on