Kian"What do you mean? It's nothing. Kian, you arrived home with blood on your shirt. Do you think I was born yesterday?" Jaxton's mom, Jenna, chastised, tapping her foot anxiously."No, ma'am," I replied, avoiding eye contact.Jenna was scary when angered. She wore a fistful of golden rings that doubled as a set of knuckle dusters: a present from her husband, which was befitting of a biker queen.Throttle was standing at the side of his wife with his arms folded in front of his chest. His left brow was arched above his eye like he didn't believe a word I was saying."Start talking, boy, or my fingers will start dialing the school's number," he threatened, convinced that the incident had taken place there.“I made a promise to your poppa at his graveside, and I intend to fulfill that promise.”I didn't want any trouble. I especially didn't want to drag my problems here, not when the Archers had been so good to me. People had been riding my back about it all day at school. They believ
KianThe clubhouse was nothing more than a rundown shack surrounded by herringbone fencing. An ocean of motorcycles littered the parking lot guarded by a couple of prospects. They were mean-looking guys who were itching to make their colors as a respectable part of the crew. They eyed Throttle as the second coming of Christ and were all about ready to bow down and kiss his dusty boots. As I walked by, I found myself dragged into a headlock and a set of knuckles rubbed against the top of my scalp."I knew you'd come around," Ace, one of the prospects, cited, blowing his blond, jaw-length hair out of his face, his blue eyes dancing with glee.He was a year older than me, having joined the club to follow in his father's footsteps. The guy standing next to him was called Blade: dark-haired, silver eyes, and deadly with a knife. Hence the name."Let him be," Jenna berated them, casting them a humored scowl.Throttle's demeanor was as cool as ice. "Get back to business," he muttered, "or el
Kian"You're on last," Chance announced, popping his head around the doorway.Throttle nudged his way past him, accompanied by Jenna.Jenna gave me that motherly look as she ruffled her fingers through my hair."Hand me those clippers, will you?" she muttered to Throttle. "I'll take care of this."Throttle did as his wife asked, then crouched down to look me in the eye."The club has your back, son. The Reaper wants a word before you step into the Cage. I want you to know that we'll be watching and waiting to step in if there's any foul play. You have my word," he promised.Any other time, news of the Reaper wanting a word meant the exact opposite. If he sought you out, that was usually to put a bullet in your skull. Now I was interested to find out what he wanted with me. What could a nobody from the slums of Forest Hills possibly have to offer the Reaper Cartel?The noise from the hair clippers vibrated through my skull, stripping away piece after piece of the old Kian Jones. When J
KianA few minutes passed by before the end of the round bell started to ring in my ears. That was my cue to drag my anxious ass out of the locker room and greet my opponent. I did so with a confident swagger, putting on a show for all the cheering fans. The crowd grew wild as my robe dropped to the floor, and I began the routine warm-up at the foot of the Cage. Mad Dog eyed me from the other side like a rabid animal, hellbent on coming out of here the victor. I spotted the Reaper’s goons from across the room; the acrid green lighting made them all look like a bunch of frogs standing next to a mountain of muscle. The gator was huge, even from a distance. He gave me a nod, a signal from him to me that he was rooting for my corner. That was reassuring. I for one didn’t think I stood a chance until this morning. It felt as if the ghosts of my past were all watching over me, ready to push me back through the veil if I fell through to the other side. I could hear my momma yelling to me tha
Gia - Current age: 20.“Open up!” My landlord, an overweight middle-aged slob called Jimmy, hammered on the door. “Your rent is overdue. I warned you what would happen if you were late again.”My roommates cringed as I stood on my tiptoes to peep through the spyhole, seeing Jimmy's distorted face through the beveled glass. His stomach blocked the view of the hallway, and the peephole magnified all the stains on his vest.Ew, the guy was one fugly sleazeball.We were just about to leave for work when Jimmy dropped by for a visit. Each time we defaulted, he would increase the next month's rent. If we couldn't pay up, he offered a nasty alternative as a “wipe the slate clean.” He liked to pass jokes about my size, saying I was the ideal height to suck his cock at eye-level. I may be a feisty pint-sized brunette, standing at five feet tall in my bare stockings, but I wasn't desperate. Like fuck was I going to touch his sweaty ass cock to keep a roof over my head. Some guys think because w
Gia“Boss told me to tell you his name is Harrison, and he's waiting in the VIP lounge,” Freya informed me.“Ugh! With a name like that, he's definitely a douche," I grumbled, leaving the room with a confident swagger.The nebulous lighting illuminated the podiums with a soft hazy glow, and dry ice curled through the air in gentle wisps. The bar stretched along the back of the club with dark seating areas along the perimeter walls. The VIP room was situated right next to the boss's office. The dividing wall served as a two-way mirror, giving the voyeuristic bastard a ring-side show. He never laid a hand on us, but he sure loved to watch.This may have been a gentleman's club, but there was nothing luxurious about it. They placed mirrors around so that clients could watch without seeming pervy, and the security guys could monitor what was going down. To say the place was unsanitary was an understatement. The public bathroom was cleaner. We had our own hygiene ritual, but we had to make
Kian - Current age: 26."You don't say much, do you?" Claw murmured.I couldn't stomach the guy, but Jax thought it would be a good idea to let him tag along considering he'd set up the deal. Ever since Throttle retired as the President, Jaxton had been in charge. He kept himself busy at Archer's motorcycle repair shop, their family business. Jenna managed the biker café next door with a few of the old ladies. The same familiar faces still put in a show at the club from time to time, and like Claw, there were a few fresh faces that had yet to prove their worth.We were sitting in my beloved Capri in the middle of a rainstorm like sardines in a tin can, waiting for a couple of wolf shifters to show up and purchase some firearms. Usually, we wouldn't do business with dogs, but Claw seemed to think these guys could be trusted. The windshield was fogging up on the inside, so I wound down the window a little to let in some air. Raindrops bounced off the ground like pebbles. I stared dead a
Kian"Did you get the other bullet out? Here, use this," he offered, producing a pocketknife.I tried digging it out, but it refused to budge. Blood was spewing from the hole now that I'd made it worse. My fingertips burned as they came into contact with the silver. I grunted through it, enjoying the pain like the sadistic bastard that I'd become."Got it," I announced, holding it up to see for myself.It was strange how nothing seemed to hurt me anymore. The pain was as addictive as crack was to an addict. I got some freaky sort of kick out of it. Getting shot felt like a bee sting, and silver bullets were supposed to burn like a bitch, which was weird because it wasn't all that bad. It just smarted enough to tingle. I tossed the bullet onto the ground and watched it bounce across the asphalt. Maybe my nerves were fucked from all the fighting, or maybe I was just plain wrong."You're meant to have my back," I growled at Claw, turning from him to mutter, "Useless son of a bitch." I gr