Vengeful Soul by Emma Creed
I shake with rage as I ride down to the club. It’s an average night, the fire pit is lit and there are a few outside drinking. I pass them without acknowledging them and nod my head at Tommy for a drink. He doesn’t even bother with a glass and hands me the bottle nervously over the bar. I snatch it from his hand and scowl at him.
“Who’s with Grace?” a female voice comes from behind me, and Maddy slides off Jessie’s lap making her way toward me.
“She’s at the cabin, resting, I already called the Doc.” I snap back.
“You think that’s a good idea considering all that’s happened today? She shouldn’t be alone.”
“The last thing she needs right now is me.” I’m too fucking mad at myself to give her what she needs right now.
“Brax, you’ve got it all wrong. Grace—”
“You know what, mads, it’s cute an all, but right now I don’t need your optimistic bull shit,” I cut her off, and it earns me a real stern look from Jessie as he sits up from his seat and steps up behind his old lady.
“Come on, darlin’, we’ll check in on her before we turn in for the night.” He keeps his eyes on me as he leads her out the door, and if the guy hadn’t had his fill of pain today, I know I wouldn’t have gotten off so lightly.
I’m about a third through the bottle when I feel a tap on my shoulder, and wondering which mother fucker is gonna have a pop at me next, I spin around.
The fist comes at me hard and for a moment I think Jessie’s come back, but when I raise my arm up to block another blow and throw a fist at the target, the person who stumbles back is a stranger.
“You killed him.” The kid keeps coming at me, I don’t know who he is or what the fuck he’s doing here, but he’s picked a fight with the wrong brother tonight. I grab the kid’s hoodie in both hands, spinning him around and pinning him to the bar, not giving a shit about the broken glass as I press him into the surface.
“The fuck?” Troj quickly catches on to what’s going on and steps up beside me.
“Get off me.” The kid struggles to free himself. Looking at him, he can’t be any older than eighteen. And despite not being all that big, he’s got the strength and determination of a fucking bison.
“You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re talking about, you piece of shit?” I lift up his body and slam him back down in frustration.
“Adriano. You killed him.” His nostrils flare at me, and I look into the boy's eyes and see something I recognize. Hate, vengeance and pain. “You killed my only chance of getting her back!” he yells at me, and I release him from my grip. Intrigued by what he has to say.
“Listen, kid, I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t burst through the doors of the Dirty Souls compound like a fucking storm and expect to walk out of ‘em breathing. Now speak up and speak fast,” Squealer adds himself to the equation, stepping up on my left and leering over the boy who’s trying to catch his breath.
“He took my sister. That son of a bitch took my little sister, and I was this close to finding out where she is before you took him out.”
“Shit.” I don’t know who says it, but it’s only a reflection of what I’m thinking.
“She’s out there, God knows what those sick bastards are doing to her and you just took my chance of ever finding her.”
“Deal with this shit.” I turn my attention to Troj, who nods back at me. And as I turn around and walk out the door, I hear Tac’s voice behind me.
“You just got lucky, Storm, not many men have thrown a punch at that one and lived to tell the story.”
I sit by the fire and watch the flames lick the air. I’d meant every word I’d said to Gracie, and I still feel like a cunt about it. Does she think that all that had happened today changed something between us? We’re still the same fucking people. Ain’t nothing that’s gonna change that obstacle.
It ain’t that I don’t want her. Hell, I’d spend the rest of my life taming the stubborn little bitch if I had it my way.
It’s the fact I can’t risk losing her.
I’m still not over losing my mama, and that happened over twenty years ago. I still thirst for Chop the same way I did the day he took her. And I can’t do that to myself all over again.
I think about Skid, and what Chop took from him. The guy loved his old lady, he was the only committed brother in this Charter for years and even when I’d met up with him at other Charters, his eyes never strayed from his woman. I see it all so clearly now, why Nyx and Jessie don’t let the club whores touch ‘em anymore. What’s the point when, to them, they already got perfect.
Skid had perfect at one time too. The betrayal of losing it all because of his own brother must be the worst form of pain a man can take. And I sit for ages watching the burning embers, wishing things could be different.
Wishing I could be different.
I think about Nyx and what I’m doing to him. He’s my brother, he got a wife and kid and he just rode out with me to help me save Gracie without giving it a second thought.
This club is where we belong. I want to be part of his life no matter how much I tell myself I don’t. I’ve spent my adult life telling myself I owe it to him and Mom to take Chop’s life. To make Chop suffer for what he did to our family. Convinced myself that I deserve it more than anyone… more than Skid for fuck’s sake. What’s wrong with me?
Am I really prepared to go against this club to get that? The Souls were the only family I had during the years I was searching for Nyx, it didn’t matter what Charter I was bunking at. I've always had a home with ‘em.
I take myself up to one of the rooms on the second floor of the club. They’re used for fucking, but I manage to find one free and lock the door so I won’t be disturbed. Lying out on the bed, I pull my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling.
I want to fix things for me and Gracie, but is loving her enough to make things work out for us?
If I stand any chance, I got to start listening to the people around me, and I act fast before I get the chance to change my mind.
Taking my cell out from my cut pocket, I scroll through the contacts till I get to Skid’s number. My finger hovers over the call button before pressing it. And I swallow hard when he answers, sounding groggy.
“Skid, it’s Brax, I got a lead on Chop. He checked into a motel on interstate 70 a few days ago. He was still there this morning,” I tell him, closing my eyes and feeling the tears pinch. Vex is right. I gotta take the hate out my heart and the vengeance out my soul before I can be the man Gracie deserves.
“That’s not far from the club,” Skid sounds much more awake now.
“I know, he’s ballsy I’ll give him that. How quick can you get there?”
“Couple hours.” Skid answers back and then there’s silence. The hurt inside me don’t stop, but the feeling of fucking hope that I’ve blanked out for so long wakes the fuck up.
“Brax, thanks for this,” Skid adds.
“Make him pay, Skid. For all of us,” I tell him.
“Oh, he’ll pay,” he tells me with a confidence I believe in. I hang up the phone before I slam my fist into the wall. It’s done, regardless of whether Skid gets to Chop or if he’s too late, my life’s fucking mission ends here. Chop will no longer be my reward. Skid needs it more than I do. I understand that now, seeing a knife pressed against the throat of the woman you love will do that to a man.
And now I just gotta put my focus in finding a way to exist without the purpose of pain.