Cruel Kings by Skye Knight

4

Caleb

My mind stayed distracted while Milla stayed with me, amusing me with her shy, awkward smiles. However, the moment I left her, those warm feelings waned, filling me with cold rage.

Now that she was safely dropped off at home, I could finally turn my attention toward the asshole that harmed my brother.

A cold wind rushed over my body as my bike speeded down the dark, empty streets. My next destination was the repair shop run by the Dark Knights, a local MC gang that operated on the outskirts of Silverlake.

The cautionary part of my mind reminded me I was weaponless at the moment. My gun was safely encased inside a drawer in my room at the frat house I shared with my brothers.

I’ll kill the bastard with my bare hands, I decided, speeding toward the garage on the far side of town. They should know not to fuck with me and my brothers.

The Dark Knights were mostly a group of law-abiding bikers, but they didn’t care much about breaking rules or toeing the line when presented with cash. My brothers and I often took advantage of their services to settle scores with those who rose against us.

The Dark Knights were an ally but they crossed the line tonight. They worked with an enemy to mess up Corey’s bike.

The very thought of Corey dying sent sheer panic through me. He was my twin, my other half, my soulmate. The mere idea of losing him was enough to drive me crazy.

Bright lights appeared on the distant horizon. Dull beats of an old 80’s rock song reached my ears as I neared the perimeter of Roger’s vast garage and home.

I didn’t cut off the engine as I brought the bike to a halt at the gate. A young recruit peered at me through the bars. The mean frown on the punk’s face dissolved as soon as I pulled up the visor of my helmet, revealing my face to him.

“You,” he muttered, staring at me dumbly.

“Open the gate, numb-nuts,” I ordered through clenched teeth. “I need to see your prez.”

The young man who was barely older than me obeyed at once. As soon as the metal gate clanked open, I stepped on the gas, shooting forward.

I brought the bike to a halt outside the outhouse where a party seemed to be happening. The music was an assault to the ears, drowning out all other sounds around me.

Getting off the bike, I took off the helmet and raked my fingers through the thick strands of my dark hair. Time to execute a well-deserved payback, I decided, striding forward.

Throwing the door open, I came across the disgusting sight of the fifty-year-old Roger with his thin, pale lips wide open, his eyes rolling in their sockets as he got his cock sucked by a naked woman perched between his thick, long legs.

The rest of the men were in similar states. They were either passed out or fucking one of the sweetbutts that frequented their garage.

“Ridiculous,” I muttered, watching these old geezers acting like teenage frat boys. Even the smell of puke mingling with the scent of sweat and sex reminded me of one of our house parties.

“Hey, Roger,” I bellowed.

My voice startled him out of his pleasure haze. Opening his eyes, he looked straight at me.

“Come join the party, kid,” he said in a slurred voice. “Plenty of booze and women to go around for my favorite customer.”

Anger simmered in my veins as I watched them all. They were all enjoying themselves while my brother was recuperating in a hospital room.

Striding forward, I roughly pulled the naked woman away from him.

“Hey!” he protested.

Before he could let another curse out, I punched him in the face.

“The fuck!” he cried, clutching his nose.

I punched him again, this time on his left cheek.

“Sober now?” I asked, glaring at the man.

He rubbed his cheek, his mean black eyes filling with rage. “Just because I tolerate you brats doesn’t mean you can cause shit in my home.”

“You tolerate me?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “No, Roger. I tolerate you and the rest of you filthy geezers.” I gestured toward the young woman sitting on the floor, still naked. “She doesn’t even look older than fifteen.”

The girl ducked her head between her bony knees at once.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Roger shouted, getting to his feet. He shoved his erection back inside his pants and straightened up. I could see the anger flaring in his eyes but there was nothing he could do about it.

All his brothers were passed out drunk. No one was coming to rescue him from me.

“I don’t care who you fuck,” I said in a calmer tone. “As long as you don’t mess around with me and my brothers.”

A sliver of confusion flashed through his face. “What do you mean?” he asked in a gruff voice. “I haven’t messed around with any of you.”

I shook my head. “Maybe not you, but someone in your garage did,” I said in a grim tone. “Corey got his bike serviced just two days ago and tonight, his brakes failed. Not only that, after he crashed the oil tank leaked, causing the whole thing to blast. If someone didn’t get him away from the motorcycle in time, he’d have been toast.”

Roger rubbed the sore spot on his stubbled cheek thoughtfully.

“Who worked on Corey’s bike?” I asked.

Roger looked visibly uncomfortable. “What do you plan to do with him?”

“You shouldn’t care, Roger,” I said in a calm, deadly soft voice. “Worry about your own ass first. Let me handle it my way. If Noah pokes his nose in the matter, you and your brothers will be burning in hellfire.”

Roger paled under his rust-colored beard. He could be the president of his shitty biker club and lord over the geezers he called “brothers”, but he was just a dog to me and Noah.

He knew this fact very well. He needed both our money and influence in this town to enjoy the perks of running his stupid MC club.

“Drag the guy who dared to mess with Corey and I’ll let you continue your shitshow in this town,” I said.

“But—”

“We don’t make threats, Roger,” I said in a low, calm tone. “I’m going to ask you for the last time. Bring out the guy who dared to betray both you and me.”

Roger made a noise in his throat. “He just received his cut,” said Roger, looking toward a young man slumped on a couch. A naked woman lay over him and from the position, it looked like he hadn’t pulled his dick out of her.

“Get her off him and bring him inside the workshop,” I commanded. “I’ll wait for you there.”

I walked out of the room and breathed the cold, fresh air deeply, willing for it to cleanse my nostrils of the stink. Knowing my way around Roger’s compound, I headed toward the workshop.

Reaching the one-story building used as a workshop, I lifted the shutter and strode inside. Lights came on as soon as I stepped in, illuminating half-assembled bikes and workbenches filled with tools and motor parts.

Walking around, I looked for something to use as a weapon. My gaze fell on a long iron crowbar. Picking up the rod, I tested the weight and the feel of its surface against my palm.

Satisfied, I gripped the crowbar tightly.

The sound of struggles and someone shouting curses reached my ears. Next moment, Roger walked inside the workshop and threw the young man at my feet.

“Do what you want with him,” said Roger in a gruff voice. “Just keep him alive. There’s no one around to bury a body tonight.”

I sneered at the guy who was desperately trying to get to his feet but kept collapsing on the floor.

“Fine,” I snarled. “Now, get out.”

Roger stared at the man on the ground with a mournful look before turning away.

“Stay down,” I said, stomping on the guy’s spine.

“Who the fuck are you?” he screamed, trying to fight me off.

Kneeling beside him, I grabbed a handful of his dark, greasy hair and pulled his face up so he could see me. Immediately, a look of recognition came over his eyes. “You...”

“So, you remember?” I asked even though I hadn’t met him before. He was probably mistaking me for Corey. “Who paid you to mess up my bike?”

“What? I don’t know anything about—”

I rose to my feet before he could finish spewing his lies and whacked him hard in the face with the iron rod.

A wild cry escaped him as he was thrown back.

“Oww! Fuck!” he screamed, touching his bleeding face with his trembling hands. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You messed up my bike,” I said.

“I didn’t!”

I brought the rod down on his chest, making him collapse on the floor. Letting my anger consume me whole, I hit him again. And again.

“P—p—please,” the young man whimpered while lying in a pool of his blood.

I swiped a sweaty lock out of my eyes and glared down at the bastard. “Lie to me one more time and I’ll break your legs into so many pieces they’ll never be able to put them back together. Understand?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” the guy whimpered pathetically.

“Because you fucked with me,” I said in a cold tone. “Tell me who paid you to mess up my bike or I’ll break your spine next. Or maybe, I’ll take out one of your balls.” I poked him between his legs.

Pressing his thighs together, he crawled away from me at once.

“I don’t know who he is,” the bastard replied, trembling from head to foot. “He showed me your photo and the bike you usually ride. Told me to mess up the brakes in such a way that you can’t figure anything’s wrong with it the first few days.”

I raised the rod to hit him again but he flinched, shouting and sniveling. “I’m not lying,” he shouted. “Please! It’s the truth! That guy paid me five thousand dollars for the job.”

Rage flowed through my veins like poison. Corey’s life was worth a mere five thousand dollars to him? I wanted to beat the piece-of-shit to death but I still needed an answer from him.

“What did this guy look like?” I asked.

“He was about your age...kinda geeky looking. Blond hair plastered to his head, baby-blue eyes...big mouse-like ears.”

“Anything else? Think.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “He was kind of tall and lanky. And...and...he wore the same pin as you.”

“What pin?”

The trembling young man pointed at my chest. Looking down, I became aware of the golden Elite badge pinned to the front of my leather jacket.

Blond, tall, and lanky. A geek with big ears. Someone who was an Elite.

That narrowed it down for me.

My thought immediately went to Luke Beckett, a senior member of the Elites. He took the same classes as Noah in the Business Studies department. He liked dressing in formal shirts and slacks even when he was attending everyday classes.

Beckett was the only one who matched the young mechanic’s description perfectly. For a moment, I went silent, thinking of the reason why Luke Beckett would want to hurt my brother. Until now, he’d never been on our radar and we’d barely even interacted with him.

“If I find out you’re lying, I’m coming back to keep my promise,” I warned the young man who was writhing on the floor. “Take care of your nuts until then.” My lips curved into a cold, arrogant smirk.

He crawled several feet away from me.

Turning away, I threw the crowbar away and walked out of the workshop. It was time we looked into Luke Beckett and find out the reason he’d lashed out on Corey.