Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
NOAH
Over the past few months I have been taking part in more of the goings on at the clubhouse and occasionally with the Kozlovs.
Not because they have demanded it of me, it has just been a natural progression, because the surge in adrenaline it gives me makes me crave more.
I’m still in control of what I do, but I have taken a more “recognized” role as the guy who gets shit done and doesn’t mind the bloody hands it comes with.
I do what I want, when I want, but even Dima and Lev have been asking for my assistance, as their business is quickly expanding thanks to their partnership with Carlos.
I don’t mind it as it keeps the mundane part of life away.
I get my two vices in life, which are Chase and living out the hidden evil that lives inside of me.
It’s something akin to being obsessed with the gym. It’s my routine.
I left Chase about an hour ago with Leo, who is Ethan’s husband and happens to be an artist. Seb recommended him.
Chase wants a statement piece made for our foyer, which has nothing in it.
I don’t give a shit about stuff like that, so I’ve let him get on with it.
Tyler is there too, and they are safe. It still pulls at me being apart from him.
I may need to install cameras inside so I can monitor him if I have to leave.
When I get to the clubhouse, it stinks of stale beer and is full of drunk idiots with nothing else to do.
I'm here to discuss an issue with Marcus that he wanted help with about a shipment, the quick expansion of the club with the involvement of the Kozlovs is requiring a little extra funding to keep up with the demand. When the brief meeting ends and we return to the main bar, a new recruit appears, a drunk little fuck called Danny. Mid-twenties, a pathetic piece of shit who can’t handle his drink and thinks because he is a prospect here that it holds weight.
"Hey, you that Noah Bryson?" His voice carries across the room, slurred and aggressive. "It can’t be true, look at you? There is no way you’re one of those fucking homos."
The room goes quiet and Marcus tenses beside me as the music stops and one of the older club members goes over to warn Danny about shooting his mouth, but he’s a dumbass who thinks he knows everything and can’t control his mouth.
I turn slowly, meeting Danny's bloodshot eyes. "What did you say?"
"You heard me," he grins, emboldened by alcohol and stupidity. "You're just a gay boy playing dress-up. Are you the bitch too?"
I move before he finishes the sentence and my fist connects with his jaw. The crack of bone is satisfying as he staggers back, and I follow, driving my knee into his solar plexus just as he doubles over, gasping.
"Who do you think you are?" I say quietly, grabbing his hair and slamming his face into the nearest table. Once. Twice. Three times as blood sprays across the wood. Someone moves to intervene but Marcus raises a hand, stopping them, and it’s wise. I’m so laser focused on this homophobic asshole that I would tear up anyone who tries to interfere. This little boy should know the rules.
I pull Danny upright, his face a ruined mess. "Did nobody warn you who I am? Hmmm? Talking to me like that, that gets you killed. Apart from my husband’s ass, blood is my second addiction, it really gets me going," I say, right into his messed up face.
He’s half conscious, but I can’t stop, so I drive my fist into his ribs hard enough to hear them crack. He's making sounds now, wet and trying to beg for mercy. I want to break every bone in his body, to pin him to the wall with nails for everyone to learn never to cross me.
"Noah..." Marcus starts. I ignore him, pulling out my phone with my free hand, and snap a photo of Danny's destroyed face before I release him to the ground where he collapses like a bag of bones. Unmoving.
I look around the room and every man and woman here is frozen, staring at me like I’m some kind of crazy person.
"Anyone else like to discuss who I fuck?"
Silence. I pull out a handkerchief from my back pocket, and wipe the blood from my knuckles.
Marcus follows me outside. "That was crazy, Noah."
"The rules were set when we made our deal, Marcus." I examine my shirt where it is wet in the center of my chest. Luckily, my shirt is black so it hides the color.
"There's a bathroom inside and clean clothes in the back office."
“Nah…Chase will like seeing me like this.”
Marcus just stares at me like he has only just met me. I think he’s finally registering who I am, which is amusing.
“You scare the shit out of me, Noah. But I like you anyway. Go home, we’ll talk later.”
I turn and head off to my car, my body buzzing on adrenaline that a certain person is gonna feel the effects of when I get home. You better be ready for me, baby.