Vengeful Soul by Emma Creed

“Here’s the safe house address.” Prez hands me a scrap piece of paper. “This needs taking care of tonight, Brax,” he warns, before taking a long drink from the tumbler in his hand.

“You still not gonna tell me what all this is about?” I scratch my stubble and check out the address. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since Prez set me this job, and being honest, I ain’t much looking forward to it.

I may not be the best ‘team player’ around here, but one thing you can guarantee outta me is that I’ll always get the job done. This job is different, this job involves a female, and that shit ain’t just rare, it’s muggy fuckin’ water… even by my standards.

I’ve been part of the club since I was fifteen, I’ve heard, seen and dealt out a lot of bad, but not once have I been asked to deal with a woman, not in the way Prez is asking me to now.

It makes me fuckin’ uncomfortable, but I ain't about to admit that to him.

Prez shakes his head back at me. “Less you know the better, for now. Just grab the bitch at the first opportunity ya get. Move her to that address and hold her ‘til ya hear from me.” I nod back my understanding and tuck the scrap paper into my cut pocket.

“No reaching out, no matter what happens, ya hear me? You wait for me to contact you.” His pupils stab like daggers into mine, making me seriously question what the fuck I’m getting into.

“And if she makes a fuss?” I tip my head sideways. I don’t know all that much about women, but I can’t imagine one would come willingly with a man like me.

“Then you keep her in fuckin’ line, I’m trusting you know how to handle a fuckin’ female, Brax,” Prez chuckles, pouring himself another generous measure from the bottle.

“The target's photo and where you’ll find her are in the envelope.” His eyes drop to the brown envelope on the table. With my smoke balanced between my lips, I squint my eyes to stop the smoke from burning as I reach over for it.

“She comes back in no worse a state than you picked her up in…” Prez warns, slamming his hand over mine before I can lift the envelope away. “Your job is to hold her, Brax.”

“I don’t get my kicks outta hurtin’ women,” I remind him, my jaw tensing. Sure, I can be a ruthless bastard when I have to be, I’m known across the Charters for the zero fucks I give.

But even I have hard limits.

My morals may be few, but I honor them.

“You better get out of here, pack up the shit you’ll need. I’ll be in touch within a week.” Prez hands me a burner phone and I slide the envelope inside my cut, leaving without the pleasantries of goodbyes.

Some brothers are gathered around their bikes in the yard when I get outside. They look curiously at me when they see where I’ve come from. A one-to-one with Prez always catches attention around here.

“Everything good?” My brother Nyx lifts his chin at me.

“Yeah, all good,” I assure him, side glancing the others in the hope they’ll get the hint and stay outta my business.

“Troj, come give me a hand with the new stock.” Jessie straightens up from the wall he’s propped against.

“What stock?” Troj crushes his smoke out under his boot, looking up cluelessly.

“Just move your ass.” Jessie throws his eyes toward the club doors, leading a confused Troj away and leaving me alone with my brother.

The whole club were shocked when they found out the secret I’d been keeping, but none more than Nyx. I’ve given him space so he can come to terms with the whole thing, and I know he still ain’t fully forgiven me for the shit I pulled with him and his old lady. But these past few weeks, I’ve noticed him loosen up a little around me.

“Ella and the kid okay?” I check.

“Yeah, they’re good. Ell’s kinda stressing out over this whole weddin’ business, but I reckon she’s enjoying it. Bitches are weird like that…”

Nyx clears his throat and looks back at me awkwardly. He may not know that much about me, but we both know I don’t have the first clue about women. For me, pussy is a form of entertainment, and when it comes to the opposite sex, I have no intentions on delving any deeper than that.

“I’m headin’ out for a few days.” I pull the leather gloves out my back pocket and slide them over my fingers.

“Job for Prez?” Nyx states the fucking obvious, seeing I just came out of the chapel where this Charter hold all their meetings.

“Yeah.” I keep things simple, ain’t like I know shit to tell him anyway.

“You’ll be back for the weddin’ though, right?” The way his brows scrunch together hints that it means something to him that I’m there.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I assure him, Nyx sniggers at the sarcasm in my tone.

“I know it ain’t ya thing, but it’s important to Ella. She got this whole thing in her head about family right now,” he looks down at the ground where his boot makes a divot in the dry earth. Like me, he doesn’t find things like this easy to talk about. Guess the inability to show feelings is in our DNA.

But with Nyx, his girl and that kid are his exception, when it comes to them he wears that shit on his sleeve with pride.

And that’s where the two of us differ. Nyx has the ability to love. I ain’t cursed with that weakness. I offer loyalty, but never affection, because my existence centers around something very different. My soul doesn’t seek the love of a woman, it lusts for vengeance, and it craves destruction.

“I’ll be there,” I promise, distracting myself before those thoughts overpower me, there’s only one way of releasing once they do, and today I got shit to take care of.

“Be careful,” Nyx mutters, so quietly I almost don’t hear him.

“Don’t waste your worries on me, kid.” I surprise myself when my hand automatically reaches up and scuffs up his hair. It’s what Mama would do to me when she knew I was worried about something. Nyx don't need to know that though.

Nyx smirks as he shoves me off him with a strength that I can’t help being impressed at.

Shaking my head with a smirk of my own, I straddle my bike and kick it to start before riding up to my cabin.

When I get inside, I pack up enough clothes to last me a few days. I can assess what other supplies I'll need when I see where Prez has got me holding the girl. Then, after pulling the large trunk out from under my bed, I open it and scan over the contents, contemplating what I need.

Rope? Goes without saying.

Handcuffs? Could come in handy.

Machete? Slightly overkill.

In the end, I settle with a handgun and a box of ammo as my weapon of choice. All us Souls carry a knife as standard, but I still pack a couple of my larger ones, figure it’s always best to be prepared.

When someone knocks on my cabin door, I slide the trunk back under my bed and yell for whoever it is to come in. Turns out it’s Jessie who’s waiting for me in the living room when I step back out.

“Got everything you need?” he checks, and I can tell he’s fuckin’ twitching. Jessie and I are cut from the same cloth, we’d both been selected by our Charters when we were prospects to be trained by Vex. And we were chosen to be trained by the best because we share the same hunger, a hunger that neither of us make apologies for.

This task from Prez is different, and I know if it was Jessie going in, he’d be feeling the same apprehension I am.

“Yep.” I slide my duffel bag onto my shoulder and scoop up the keys to the truck from the kitchen table.

Unfortunately, bikes and kidnaps don’t work.

“I don’t know what Prez got you on but I know whatever this is ain’t our usual style.” Clearly, Jessie has no idea I’m about to go kidnap a fuckin’ woman.

“And there was me thinking the old man was goin’ soft in his old age.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t take this wrong, Brax, but it concerns me that he’s sending you over me,” he admits, and I know that can’t be easy for him.

“How so?” I stare back at him, curious to his thoughts. I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing. Jessie’s like a son to Prez. He’s his VP, and I know he trusts him more than anyone.

I’m a drifter, a nomad. It makes no sense.

“We’ve known each other a long time, Brax, you prospected for my Pa’s Charter, you were there for me when I went through Vex’s training. And there ain’t no denying we share the same vice. But you, you need it a hella lot more than I do. More than I ever did, even before Mads. You thrive off this shit.”

“So, what you sayin’?” I’m still waiting for him to tell me something I don’t already know.

“I’m sayin’ be fucking careful. I don’t know what this shit relates to, but Prez sending in the most merciless guy we got to take care of it, got me concerned.”

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush,” I snigger, tapping his shoulder as I step past him.

“Brax, this ain’t a game, it’s bigger than us. Prez rarely keeps secrets from the club, and he sure as hell don’t keep ‘em from me. Watch your back, and don’t underestimate this shit. We ain’t the kids Vex trained no more. We both got reasons to fuckin’ care now.”

“Speak for yourself,” I snort a laugh, pulling open the door.

“You tellin’ me you’ve been hanging around this Charter for over a year for no reason? That you told Nyx who he was to you for nothing? I know you’ve asked Prez if he’ll consider patching you in here for good. So don’t give me that bullshit, Brax. I’m the only one around here who knows you too well for it.”

Turning back around, my eyes slowly look him over.

“Jess, you can try and convince yourself, but you and I both know that there ain’t nobody on this planet that can take the darkness out of us. You might see the world a little brighter now. Who knows, perhaps that’s why Prez is sending me over you. But don’t kid yourself into believing that hate doesn’t still fester inside you. And don’t doubt that I won’t do what I need to do for this club.”

Jessie nods back at me. He may not want to, but he understands me.

Anyone can see the guy’s crazy about his bitch, but he’s still the same Jessie he’s always been. No love in this world is gonna take the spite out of him, which means there’s little hope for the likes of me.

Jessie follows me out of my cabin, where I open the door of the truck and toss my duffel bag onto the passenger seat before getting inside.

“Try to stay out of trouble,” he warns. And I roll my eyes at him before pulling off.

How much trouble can one girl actually be?