Chapter 1
Chapter One
Ace
The air is thick with tension as I sit in this metal chair waiting for the knock on my door. Only two brothers at Savage Saints know what I enjoy and how I relieve stress, even though they haven’t seen me fight yet. If they do, they might not understand how dark it really is. Three if you count my Prez. I don’t even need to say anything and he knows what I do and when. Kayne has an uncanny ability to know shit about his members and it’s creepy. He’s the only one who knows I’m here tonight doing what has to be done for the club.
It all started when I was a teen, waiting for my little brother Spencer to get out of his MMA class. I was sitting there in the dark, minding my business when several men surrounded me. They did things I’d rather not dwell on when I need to have a clear head. Spencer still doesn’t know exactly what happened and I’m going to keep it that way for as long as I can. It’s been Spencer and me for the last thirteen years until I found Kayne and the Savage Saints MC. Then Spencer moved to Vegas to fulfill his dream as the next up-and-coming MMA fighter and now it’s just me, sitting in this cold metal chair with my wrists taped, my body vibrating with adrenaline and my soul growing darker by the minute.
A knock on my door signals it’s time. The knob turns and the door bangs against the wall when Seth, who is the emcee for the fights, opens it.
“It’s do or die,” Seth’s voice is low with tension. I get what he means. It really is do or die. Either I kick this motherfucker’s ass or I die trying. I rise from my chair, tapping into the rage building deep inside of me. My mind is focused on what’s waiting for me on the other side of the door.
Tonight’s fight is one of my hardest fights yet. But the harder they are, the more I crave. Only one of us will walk away tonight. If and when I win, I’ll get the answers I need. Answers my club needs.
Stepping into the cage, the crowd’s chants assault my ears. They know it’s going to be a blood bath, the scent of death and destruction thick in the air. I know it’ll be a battle they haven’t seen before. Looking around the crowd, three men capture my attention. They’re trying to stay low-key, but I’ve seen them lurking around a few times. One has long, dark hair pulled back and twisted at the nape of his neck. His face is covered with the beginning of a goatee. The other man with him has a reaper tattoo on his arm. They’re sitting front and center tonight, not hiding the fact that they’re here. They’re both wearing Krymson Destroyers cuts.
Krymson Destroyers has been trying to get a sit down with Kayne for a few weeks now. They’re an up-and-coming MC out of Pennsylvania. Not sure what it is they want or need and I really don’t give a fuck.
I turn my attention back to the ring and study my opponent. His dark hair is cut close to his head in a high and tight. He’s all brawn, no brains when it comes to a match like this. If I beat him, then Kick, Blayde’s father has agreed to a sit down with Kayne. Kick might be our main chapter president, but after all the information we’ve found that the old president, Steam, was doing we started separating from his chapter. We want nothing to do with the human trafficking Steam was in deep with. If anything, we’re on opposite ends of the spectrum with it. Steam bought and sold women through the Black Market Railroad and we are hired to take them out. We already took out Steam a while ago, along with Kingston and a Russian asshole. They had no idea that the funds from their operation were being diverted into our accounts. We’re close to finishing this, but I need to win tonight to seal the deal. And the deal was only one person would walk away.
The bell dings and we both advance to the middle of the ring. This fucker thinks he has an advantage over me and takes a powerful swing at my head but misses. I push him back, staying on the balls of my feet. He charges again and tries to body slam me, but I step at the last second and his meaty fist catches the corner of my ribs. I’m playing with my prey, making him tire out before I deliver a deadly blow. He catches me off guard and nails me in the ribs again.
We go at it blow for blow. Both of us are bleeding from the harsh blows we’re taking from each other. There is no stopping in this fight. It doesn’t end until one of us stops breathing. Done with fucking around, I go on the attack and land a deadly strike to his throat, cutting off his air supply and crushing his windpipe. My adrenaline spikes with every jab and I have tunnel vision. This guy is all I see and hear. No crowd, no chants, no cheers. He grabs his throat gasping for air when I hit him again in the stomach. He goes down to his knees still clutching his throat, blood dripping down his face. I step up behind him to finish him off. With my adrenaline running at an all-time high, I grab his head and twist, snapping his neck and ending his life. I’ll deal with the aftermath later. Shoving the now dead fighter away from me, I rise to my full height, and the bell dings.
The crowd is a frenzy of activity. Cheers, chants, hoots, and hollers echo through the arena as the cage doors open and I’m quickly ushered out and back to my small changing room. I open the door and step inside. The three men from Krymson Destroyers are waiting for me, making the room smaller and my adrenaline spikes looking for a threat.
“What the fuck do you want?” I growl. I’m in no mood for petty little shit. I just killed a man and need to decompress. These three in here are stopping me from doing it.
“My Prez wants a sit down with yours and we’re here to make it happen.” The dark-haired man says. There’s a look of appraisal in his eyes like he knows what I do. It’s a bond formed from one killer to another which allows me to let my guard down just a little. His cut reads Cobra and he’s an Enforcer for the club. The second one reads Reaper and the third is Tank.
I size them all up deciding if it’s worth taking three more lives tonight or not. “Why should we do what you’re asking? What’s in it for us?” I sit down in the metal chair, my adrenaline is starting to run low.
“Rumor has it, you want out from under Steam. We can make that happen but to do it, we need your help.” Tank responds. It’s hard to get a read on him, but by his tense body language, there’s more at stake here than he’s letting on. Not my fucking problem. Tank leans against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. “And if fifty G’s will help persuade you, I can have it sent to your account with one phone call.”
I weigh my options. These guys know more than they’re letting on. Do I want to bring them back with me or tell them to fuck off? They don’t know we already eliminated Steam, but we do need more information about the Russians coming after us since we killed one of the Kozlov brothers.
Weird things around our legal businesses have happened, but no one can explain it. Many appointments at our auto shop were canceled, and deliveries to the bar have been diverted—weird shit with no explanations. Rooster and Tatt have been working overtime trying to get to the bottom of it with no luck. If this helps us, I need to do what I can.
“Step out and let me make a call.” I make up my mind to see what Kayne wants to do, but these three don’t need to hear my conversation with him.
“You won’t regret it and tell Kayne he won’t either,” Cobra says over his shoulder as they leave the room, closing the door behind them.
I pull out my phone and dial Kayne’s number. “Ace, you almost finished? Is it done?” He asks before the first ring completes.
“It’s done. We should have the info soon. But I ran into a snag. I have a few guests here wanting a sit down between you and their Prez.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, still holding my phone. My energy is zapping quickly and I need to get back to the clubhouse before it completely drains and I can’t function. This only happens once in a while, but when the crash comes it comes hard.
“Ace, I can hear it in your voice. You’re hitting the low of the high. Get back here, bring them with you and I’ll take it from there. Do you need me to send the van?” The concern in Kayne’s voice is coming through loud and clear.
“No, Prez. I can get back. I’ll bring them with me. Their names are Tank, Cobra, and Reaper from the Krymson Destroyers, Pennsylvania Chapter. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up the phone and rise from my chair. My legs are wobbling a little but I push it aside and stroll to the door. I open it and spot Tank, Cobra, and Reaper waiting for me. “Follow me and try to keep up.”
I climb the stairs taking them two at a time. Shouldering the door open, the nighttime fresh air assaults my nose and gives me an extra boost of energy to make it back to the Clubhouse. Feeling good, I walk to my bike parked next to the warehouse and straddle it. Strapping on my brain bucket, I fire her up. The deep rumble centers my mind and I take off with the three men from Krymson Destroyers following close behind me. I know my body’s limit and it’s almost past that time. I need to get back to the Clubhouse quickly before I crash and burn. I throttle the gas, taking off at a breakneck speed, weaving in and out of traffic. Time to see how much experience these three have on their bikes. If they can keep up, then they’ll get their meeting.