Page 15 of Hades

In any case that guy, the puking prospect, was dismissed that night, told he was no good to the club. Mad-dog’s boy-genius, Rider, the idiot golden boy, had consoled the rejected guy like he was losing in the fourth round of Miss World, slapping a shoulder telling him to try and prospect again another year. Fucking idiot. Kyle could barely contain his eyeroll for his stupidity, knew already it was dog-eat-dog world, he wouldn’t be helping anyone up the rung of his ladder, not if he could help it.

“Get yourself inside, kid.” Rex issued as a man walked up to talk to him. Cop. Money exchanged hands with the fat man.

He ought to have gone over to Dana’s, climbed through her bedroom window and screwed her over her sweet-smelling princess bed with her face pushed into the pillow to muffle her pleasured screams while stuck-up daddy ate his steak downstairs with his equally stuck-up frigid wife unbeknown to the hard dicking their precious daughter was taking upstairs.

He should have.

So very careful of what he’d said over the last twelve months, always keeping his tongue to himself, never sharing his opinions of the things he saw and heard, because that was the smart thing to do.

He blended in like a chameleon and presented himself forward when he needed to, there was no way of knowing Kyle had been set up to fail as he strode into the bar, ordered a drink and took a seat at a table next to the other prospects. They didn’t speak to him and he didn’t offer a conversation either.

Golden boy was nursing a glass, taking sly glances his way, Kyle grit his teeth, keeping the insults to himself. Holding immense hatred for the golden boy who could do no wrong just because of who his daddy was. Rider didn’t have to work his balls off for his place. Daddy made sure of it.

“What you glarin’ at?” Rider asked sweeping hair out of his eyes. Kyle slow blinked and ignored him, letting his eyes scan past him. “Talkin’ to you, asshole.”

“Fuck off, boy-wonder, shouldn’t you be sucking dick by now?”

The third prospect snickered.

“Nah, ain’t my style, not me raised with whores, you’d know more about dick sucking than anyone I reckon, how much did you charge, or you gave freebies? Yeah, bet you did.”

Rider taunted smugly, amusement lazed in his stupid fucking Texas accent. Kyle didn’t have a chance to rein in his temper, to batter it down behind his anger and patience, he’d been so careful this last year, not one outburst, not a flicker of what he truly was feeling beneath the surface, always keeping his shit together like the good dog he was that when he burst up from his seat and lunged across the table to grab Rider’s shirt he didn’t even realize he was snarling ready to commit another murder so soon.

All Kyle felt was the need to hurt Rider.

The scuffle took them both to the floor, fists flying, blood spurted, the table knocked over in their haste to scrap, glasses shattered in an almighty racket, and the noise brought the attention of the two people he didn’t want noticing.

“You ladies, get the fuck up off the floor NOW!” growled Rex in his deep, severe timber. “I’m not gonna tell you again.”

Rider’s lip was bleeding when Kyle shoved off him and rolled to his feet, wiping blood off the side of his nose with his knuckles, glaring hate at his enemy who only smiled cockily. Kyle knew then. He fucking knew.

“What I tell you?”

He goaded me. He wanted to spit.He fucking played me, and I fell for it.

No fighting among ourselveswas a golden rule, you wanted to scrap you set up a sanctioned fight where money could be exchanged.

“It’s my fault, sir.” Kyle swallowed the bile and watched Mad-dog scuff his feet across the bar, other members loitering around with dirty smirks nursing glasses of booze. The VP gave a cursory glance to his son, other than that he didn’t pay Rider any attention, it was Kyle who got that pleasure.

“You see what I mean about this mutt. Get fucking rid of him, Rex, he’s a damn nuisance we don’t need.”

Fuck you, old man. Kyle glared, waited for his marching orders. Smelling the rejection in the air, seeing it in the president’s shrewd eyes you’d think Kyle would be used to that gut punch but still it nipped for a second before he washed it away. Fucking emotions could go fuck off. He pulled back his shoulders, met the stare of the MC boss, ignoring the jeers of the crowd, his feet tethered to the floor. “Far as I saw, your boy was in the fucking mix as well, Dog, should I get rid of him, too?”

Volcanic ash blazed in the VP’s face, bled all over the floor as he glowered first at Rex and then towards Kyle who stayed rooted to the spot. “You heard the mutt, he took the blame.”

“Yeah, he did. Notice Rider didn’t.”

What? Hope moved in his chest. The president was siding with Kyle? That didn’t sound right, sure as hell he was about to get his vest taken off him and bounced, he could only stand there breathing through a nose that ached like a bitch.

“Both of you get the fuck back to the clubhouse, I ain’t dealing with your pussy fighting, you sort it out or you’ll both be kicked, you listening to me?”

“You can’t fucking do that!” issued Mad-Dog. “Rider is legacy, he’s born into the club.”

“It doesn’t give him a free pass to break my fucking rules, brother.” Rex shrugged and retook his seat at the Renegade Soul’s table. It was the signal for everyone to get back to what they were doing before the fight broke out. Kyle didn’t need telling twice or to listen to the asshole Greek spew more idiot words in defence of his son. He moved through the crowd and grabbed a big gulp of fresh air once he was outside, fingers testing out his nose, it didn’t feel broken, but it burned like a whore with herpes.

Asshole motherfucker would get his one day, Kyle vowed it.

“Run along home, son of a whore,” he heard. Swinging around Rider was framed in the doorway smirking.

---