The Mistake by Sam Crescent



There are many rumors surrounding my conception.It’s rather strange to think about, especially as I stood between Rage and my husband, and their enemies. My life hung in the balance. I shouldn’t have been taken, I know that. I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The story of my life. The mistake.

One of the rumors: I was the daughter of a rat, a woman who intended to spill the Evil Savages MC club secrets. My father, Demon, who is now deceased, killed her and took me in, which is why he hated me so much. The other tale was that my father had fallen in love with a woman. I’m not quite sure if she was a club whore or someone who had nothing to do with the club. She died giving birth to me, and as she passed in Demon’s arms, his hatred for me was cemented.

My father is dead. His legacy of hatred for me lived inside myself.

Staring across the dirt,I looked at Ive, my husband. His real name is Ivan, but he never used that name since his boss, Ivan Volkov, had the same first name. He changed his to make life easier, or so he said.

Each side had guns. Rage and Ive on one side.

Their enemies, I’m notexactly sure of their names, are who I have to thank for the blurry vision, broken ankle, and broken wrist, which I hold against my chest.

It’s strange. I’d not been beaten by my father for some time, and yet, when the pain had started once again by my captives, I’d retreated back to that special place.

Ive never missed. He told me that.

From the moment I understood who I was, what I was, Iknew I’d die young. Demon’s temper made sure I knew that. I couldn’t help but feel sad and angry at the same time. I expected to die young. I was nothing. I was trash. Why had I been allowed to be happy? This wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to know what I was missing out on.

Ive was not a nice man. He was cruel and had a temper, but he was the kindest person I’d ever met, which said a lot. Before him, Rage and Cassie were the only two people who were nice to me.


As if my thoughts had conjured her, Isaw a car pull up, and there was my beautiful sister. I heard the panic in her voice, and I knew why. I was standing between two sides at war, with guns raised. The moment they started to shoot or if I moved, I was going to die. My heart raced and I felt sick to my stomach.

You’re Volkov now,Charlotte. That means nothing will ever happen to you again.”

I’d believed him.

Looking away from my sister, I turned to Ive. We couldn’t stand here forever. For one, my feet were getting tired. I couldn’t stand on one foot forever. Two, I couldn’t be selfish.

The moment I put pressure on my broken ankle, I wouldn’t make it. I couldn’t run to him, I couldn’t do anything. They knew it. When they did the damage to my body, they had laughed, knowing it was going to be the end for me.

Atleast I had memories. Christmases. Valentine’s Day. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Even a couple of summers of being happy. I could live with that. It was better than nothing.

The one thing I know from my shortexistence: life is real fucking cruel.

I took that forward step,but my ankle couldn’t take the weight. I screamed, but the sound was drowned out by gunshots.