Adversaries by T.L. Hodel

Igroaned and rolled over to scan the aftermath of empty bottles lying on the floor. An old red couch in the corner told me I’d passed out in the room at the top of the clubhouse. Better than the ditch I woke up in last week.

I did have a place in the compound. I just hadn’t set foot in it in over eight years. This dank room and springy mattress were my home now, kind of made me miss my cozy trailer in Ashen Springs. Funny how life could change in a matter of minutes.

I lost track of how many holy men I’d heard preach about the sanctity of life. ‘It’s God’s greatest gift,’ they’d say. Fucking morons.

Anyone who looked around at this cesspool of a world would see that life wasn’t a gift. It was a fucking joke. Seeking out dreams or a happy life turned into a game of ‘let’s see how much shit we can put this guy through.’

There were only three things people could count on:

Taxes. Uncle Sam always got his.

Shit happens. Whether you file the wrong paperwork at the DMV, lose that big promotion to Charles the suck-up, or just step on a piece of Lego, the universe will fuck with you anyway it can.

And finally, death was inevitable. Young, old, sick, and healthy, it didn’t make a difference in the end.

Even in my world, these rules existed. Taxes were paid in blood. Me and my boys were the shit that happened. And death took a piece of my soul every night when I closed my eyes and saw her face.

Love, now that was the ultimate joke. Like dangling a piece of poisoned meat in front of a starving animal, we ate that shit up. Swallowed it down without so much as a second thought and then cried about our crushed soul.

My eyes landed on a half-empty whiskey bottle on the floor by the bed. May as well get an early start. Besides, I was going to need a little something to get through Church. I was not looking forward to explaining what happened at the Chinese laundry to the rest of the boys.

My only saving grace was that Tanner and Mannix were with me. Who would believe that a couple of sorority girls ran down three Reapers? I saw that shit with my own eyes and still had a hard time believing it.

It was kind of impressive, though. Hell, I was ready to give the driver props until Naomi fucking Prescott climbed out the passenger door.

I swear that bitch was put on this earth to fuck with me. I’d never wanted to hate fuck someone so bad in my life. I meant hate fuck. Pound into her hard while I watched the life fade from her eyes.

“Snide fucking bitch,” I sighed and rolled out of bed.

Church stared in fifteen minutes. I better get my ass in gear.

I kicked an empty bottle and gave the room a quick scan for my pants. The glass bottle rolled across the floor and clinked off the leg of the red couch, where I spotted my jeans.

A shower could come after Church. Besides, none of the guys cared what I looked like. Hell, half of them probably smelled just as bad as I did. Then again, the scent of stale whiskey could be coming from the various bottles tossed about?

I glanced down at my dick and muttered out a string of curse words. He was full-mast and ready to go, all because I thought about that cunt.

Grumbling under my breath, I made my way across the room and snatched my jeans. One leg was in when a voice interrupted me.

“You gotta get one of the sweet butts to clean this shit up.”

I stumbled forward, whacking my knee off the arm of the couch.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Beast,” I growled while grimacing at the pain shooting up my thigh.

How did that big fucker move so quietly? I swear he had the grace of a goddamn cat. I sure as hell wasn’t that silent, and Beast had a good sixty pounds on me.

None of which was fat, hence the road name. Arnie was his given name, which was fucking hilarious. Not as funny as Tanner’s last name. Now that shit made me keel over.

Beast gave me one of his signature disgruntled huffs and crossed his arms, “Thought I better come make sure you were alive.”

“You mean Jaz sent you up here,” I argued.

Jaz was Beast’s old lady and mother superior around here. No one and I mean no one, fucked with her. Not because they were worried about what her husband might do. She was the scary one in that relationship. Seeing as most guys were pretty attached to their nuts, they steered clear of the feisty redhead.

I liked her. She kept the sweet butts in line and wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe with a drunk, angry biker. Chick had bigger balls than most of the guys around here. Even when we were kids, she wasn’t afraid to kick my ass.

“I told her you were fine, but you know how she is.” He stopped to roll his dark gaze around the room. “You are fine, aren’t you?”

Depends on your definition of fine.

“Something wrong with a guy letting loose?”

We all liked to party. Some more than others, and me more than most. Alcohol and pussy were the only things that drowned out the voices in the back of my head.

“Uh-huh?” He grunted and kicked a bottle. “Seems like you’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

I yanked my jeans up over my hips and turned to face him. “Your point?”

“What’s your niece’s name? Riley?”

“Don’t fucking start.”

I knew where he was going with this. Riley’s mom was an alcoholic that crashed her car into a telephone pole. I may have a drink or two a night–okay, maybe more than two–but I wasn’t her mother. If I was going to off myself, I’d eat the hollow point bullet I kept in my right front pocket.

Blowing my brains out the back of my skull, pretty sure that had a zero survivability rate. I even had the place picked out to do the deed, had to make things right first, though. That meant taking care of my brother and returning the Lost Souls to their rightful place.

“Look, Spider…”

“Don’t call me that,” I growled, “road names are earned.”

I deserted my brothers and hid. I didn’t deserve shit.

His brow rose. “Oh, are we playing the pity party now?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh boo hoo,” He whined, “little Chase lost his piece of ass…”

I was across the room, puffing my chest up against his before he could finish speaking.

“I said shut the fuck up.”

“Why? You gonna hit me? Come on then.” His big mitt slapped off my right cheek, taunting me to take a swing. “Do it.”

“Stop it,” I growled when he slapped me again.

But Beast didn’t stop. He kept tapping my tapping my face until I cracked and swung my fist. Venting all the pent-up rage and anger I’d been holding back in one strike. And he took it.

Beast let my knuckles scrape across his teeth before slamming me back against the wall and pressing his forearm into my neck.

“You feel that heat burning the back of your brain?”

I did. I could feel that shit pouring through my veins like lava.

“That’s anger.” He leaned in, getting right in my face, “and it’s the only fucking thing you should be feeling right now. Get mad, Spider, and when you’ve done that, get fucking pissed. Use it. Take that shit out on every motherfucker you come across until you’re holding your brother’s heart in your hand.”

I shoved him off me and stormed across the room to grab the whiskey.

“You want to honor her memory?” He tipped his chin at the bottle in my hand, “Then stop hiding and do the job your father knew you could. Be the man she wanted you to be.”

My fingers tightened around the glass neck. It was my fault she was gone. I knew she was too pure for this world, and I took her anyway.

‘I made my own choices. None of this is on you.’

Yes it was. I should’ve stayed away. I should’ve…

Beast sighed. “She wouldn’t want this for you.”

‘He’s right.’

“You need to move on.”

How could I move on? Without Sam, there was nothing to move on to.

‘Let us go, Chase.’

“I can’t,” I said and lifted the bottle to my lips.

The only thing that stopped me from chugging it back was a loud bang that rang out. Both Beast and I cocked our heads at the closed bathroom door as scuffling sounds echoed through. Someone was in there.

Beast’s hand was already going for his Glock. “You alone up here?”

I shook my head. Didn’t think I did. then again, the last thing I remembered was getting into the whiskey.

Another crash.

“There a window in there?”

Sobriety washed over me in a hot wave of rage.

Beast pulled out his Glock while I snatched my revolver off the table and aimed at the closed door. Since I came back, Reapers had been crawling through the woodwork.

Fucking with our turf, doing drive-bys, and even breaking into the compound. Considering my brother was their Pres, a few attempts at the compound had been successful.

“Message Tanner,” I said while cocking the hammer back, “tell him to go around back and cover the window.”

If my brother was going to serve up one of his men on a silver fucking platter, who was I to argue?

Both Beast and I zeroed in on the doorknob as it started to turn.

“Leg shots only?” he whispered.

I nodded. “Can’t question a dead man.”

The door opened, and I don’t know who was more shocked? Us or the topless brunette screaming?

“Shit bitch,” I flinched and waved the gun at her, “can you shut your fucking yap.”

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated a nice pair of bouncing tits as much as the next guy, but her shrill cries were slicing into my hungover brain.

She screamed louder, jumped back, and slammed the door. Worked for me. It at least dampened the piercing sound.

Beast shook his head and put the gun away. “Brought someone home with you last night, I take it?”

“Apparently.”

No sooner had I said that then we heard Tanner’s voice come from the other side.

“Well, hey there, sweetheart. I hope you’re waiting for me.”

Prick must’ve climbed in through the window.

“Fucking Playboy,” Beast turned and marched out the door. “I’ll tell the boys to give you a few.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. The chick was still screaming. If I didn’t calm her down, Tanner wouldn’t be the only fucker she had to be worried about.