4. Chapter 3
Knuckles – Twenty-Six Years Old
I wipe my thumb over my bottom lip as I eye the brothers filing into church, my eyes going to my dad, who doesn’t look my way as he takes his seat at the back of the table, but I’m not surprised.
We don’t really have a relationship, fuck, I think Blaze has more of a relationship with Killer, even if he replies with grunts, than I do with my dad, well, since I called him Splinter eight years ago anyway.
Something broke that day, and he knew he had lost his son, though we barely had a relationship before I kicked the shit out of Striker and over the years, he’s barely spoken to me unless he has to, the unwanted son.
The fucker didn’t even remember that it was my twenty-sixth birthday yesterday, no one did. Why remember the unwanted brother’s fucking birth where a patch chaser tried to trap a brother?
I know I sound like I’m having a pity party for one, but it’s the truth.
I look away and gently stretch my busted-up knuckles, and I eye the cuts that give me the sting I need to keep my anger at bay, an anger no one around me understands how lethal it can really get.
I’m not stupid, I know it isn’t normal to need pain in order to control yourself, but I guess when your mother slashes your chest several times a week until you hit puberty and could fight back, pain becomes addictive.
Whereas some people get addicted to drugs, I’ve gotten addicted to pain, and it’s hers and my father's fault for agreeing to keep me.
I didn’t fucking ask to be born.
I hear the door shut before Cage bangs his gavel and says, “Alright, fuckers, church in session,” and I look at my Pres just as he asks, “Crash, did you hear from Benny?”
“Yeah, his dad is pissed, and basically we’re his punching bag,” Crash grunts, and I lock my jaw.
Chief Marshalls has a hard-on for the club and has fucking escalated since we took care of the Chargers who kidnapped those kids.
Fuck, he’s had his officers in my gym three times this week demanding to search the place and every time I’ve demanded a warrant which they never fucking have before I tell them to fuck off.
Grunting, Crash explains, “The fucker is getting worse, and now every biker riding in town gets pulled over and searched by his officers that he knows are not on the side of the club, mainly that fucker Masters.”
“The fuckers raided the strip club last night, with the Chief front and center like he had some kind of right while his daughter who was clearly dragged along stood at the back wall with a scowl, not agreeing with her father and made it perfectly known how much she disagreed with her father’s actions,” Blaze adds, “The asshole was pissed that he didn’t find anything but promised he’d be back with a warrant for the basement door when I refused to put the code in. ”
“He won’t get that warrant. Not only is there no reason for him to search the club in the first place, but he did so without said warrant, which could cost him his badge if we made a complaint.
Besides, I’ve already put a block on him.
Every judge in his jurisdiction is fully aware he’s got a vendetta against us and have refused to give him any warrants and if he tries, him and his team will be investigated.
I also promised Clark we’ll keep Kodi out of shit, so the judges are aware that she isn’t involved,” Trick interjects and I lock my jaw tighter at the mention of her name.
Kodi…
Fucking weeks, and I haven’t been able to get her out of my head, and my hate for her ramps up every time I hear her fucking name for having this effect on me and when I swore I’d never fucking see her again, it lasted a matter of fucking weeks before she was back in my orbit.
Not long after we saved the kids, the officer brothers all drove to the hospital to intervene with Clark after a run. For years she’s been closed off with us and after Trick managed to convince her to cancel the divorce and to try with him, they’re finally happy and a family with little Willow.
For weeks, I’ve tried to ignore the pull to her, and the more I got the feeling over the matter of weeks since saving those kids, the more dangerous I’ve become. I saw her at the hospital and I’ve become lethal, especially finding out her connection with the club.
Maybe I need to fuck her, to get her out of my system.
I barely hold back a shiver of disgust at the thought while my cock twitches with anticipation, something I’ve always managed to control where the opposite sex is concerned, and my scowl deepens.
Whereas every brother in this room except for Crash, who has only been with Belle, has fucked several women, me, well, I’m a twenty-six-year-old virgin. Not for the lack of trying with the club bunnies or women that come in and out of my gym.
The thought of any woman touching me makes me revolt, it makes me feel sick, and watching your mother get fucked from an early age would do that to you, I guess.
“Alright, keep me informed,” Cage says, then he looks around the table before his eyes come my way, mainly at my busted knuckles. He raises a brow and confirms, “Had a fight last night?”
I grunt with a nod, then confirm, “Earned eight grand in bets for the club.”
“And what did you personally win?” Crusher asks with a smirk, and I grin widely.
I reply, “A hundred…”
The fucker laughs, and I look back at Cage and confirm, “The gym is booming, new customers every day, and the fights are always packed.”
He nods then says, “I heard a rumor,” and I raise a brow and wait him out because we both know there is shit loads of rumors going around, but tense when he says, “One of the club bunnies mentioned it was your birthday,” he sighs, “I’m sorry I forgot, brother.”
“Shit,” I hear my dad grunt, but I don’t look his way or towards the brothers who have all tensed, and I lift one shoulder.
“It’s fine,” I grunt, and he opens his mouth, but I shake my head and command, “continue church,” and his jaw ticks, but I don’t back down.
I haven’t celebrated my birthday ever, and only Cage remembered to give me a card even while locked up, the fucker never forgot, but his woman has just given birth to CJ, plus he has Angela so I understand.
“Son –”
“Can we get on with church, please!” I snap, “I have a fight in an hour and a half!”
The table further tenses, but I don’t react, keeping eye contact with a pissed-off Cage.
He knows I won’t speak with everyone around, he knows I’m closed off, fuck, I don’t speak period and I know he’s fully aware I’m fighting more than I ever have but I don’t do group conversations.
I lock my jaw, ensuring he knows I won’t speak, and he grits, “this conversation isn’t over,” before snaps, “Bones, Carnage Motors….”
I lean back in my seat because the conversation is over and Bones begins to go through the finances for the garage he runs, all while tension rises in the room, but I ignore everyone and zone out until Cage is ready to discuss the run with the Dark Angels MC, a club we’re affiliated with and run guns and ammo with that I’m due to attend this time around.
***
“Knuckles, I want a word now!” my dad snaps as I walk through the common room an hour later, but I ignore him just like I ignored everyone when Cage banged the gavel and continue my path towards the door, all while ignoring my mother's narrowed eyes on me.
The door opens as I get to it, and Striker pauses before stepping out of my way, looking at me warily, but again, like with my father, I ignore the fucker and walk out the door, my dad’s, “Liam!” following.
“You got any room on the fight list tonight?” Crusher asks as he follows me out of the clubhouse, also ignoring my dad’s shout, and I raise a brow at him.
“Since when do you fight?” I ask as I climb onto my bike.
Normally, Crusher will box in the ring to let off some steam, but never fights.
“Since Alexiana’s mom told me she’s moved on with her life this morning when I harassed her at her cafe,” he grunts, and I wince.
Shit.
Alexiana Jackson was Crusher's high school girlfriend, who he met through Blaze. He lived in the trailer next door to her and often stayed at her place when his mom was out of it on drugs.
She was unsure of Crusher at first, but with the backing of his blood brother, she decided to give him a chance, until the idiot got drunk after the revelations came out about Blaze being his blood brother.
It was right before graduation, and he struggled knowing how Blaze had to live, and his dad didn’t even look into Candice to ensure she didn’t give birth. He got drunk at Carnage Angel’s, then stupidly made out with Roxy, who was a waitress at the time but is now a dancer.
He admitted to Alexiana what he had done the next morning, being riddled with guilt, and out of anger, she gave him an ultimatum, the club or her.
He chose the club but instead of letting his girl let off some steam then confronting her again, he instead as a fuck you to the woman he loved for giving him the ultimatum because she lost trust in him, he fucked Roxy, then sent her the footage.
He was drunk, not that it excuses him from cheating on his girl.
He tried to speak to her afterward, instantly regretting what he did, but rightfully so, she ignored him, and then Alexiana disappeared after graduation, and even Trick couldn’t find her.
Blaze didn’t speak to Crusher for months when she disappeared because he saw her as family, her mom, and them being the only people there for him until the truth about his parentage came out.
“Has she, though, or is her mom saying shit to stop you from bothering her?” I ask, and he looks ahead for a moment before he admits, “I don’t know, but I need to let this anger out before I combust and do something really fucking stupid.”
I sigh but nod and admit, “There's the second slot that needs to be filled, your opponent is five ten and on speed and you don’t bring up my missed birthday and for the love of god, don’t forget that you are on the graveyard shift tomorrow night so don’t get too busted up.”
“Fine,” he grits as he starts his bike, and I bite my bottom lip with worry.
Being a paramedic is his calling, it’s what he’s always wanted to do for as long as I can remember but Alexiana leaving the way she did eight years ago, the way he lost his mind and none of us could bring him back from self-destruction, especially with Cage being in prison at the time…
I’m worried he’s going to dive off the deep end with news of her moving on with her life, trying to fix her broken heart.
“Brother,” I finally say, and as soon as he looks my way, I remind him, “you fucked Roxy for a year after Alex left as a fuck you to her, don’t be a hypocrite if she has slept with other people to try and fix what you broke.”
His jaw ticks, but he nods before revving his bike as he slowly walks it backward out of his spot, and I sigh as I start my bike up before slowly walking it back.
He won’t give up on her. It’s been eight years, and he’s still trying to find her, still having Trick keep an ear to the ground.
He still fucked Roxy for a year, though.
Well, before she tried poking holes in his condoms and he stopped whatever was going on between them, whatever void he was trying to fill, he’s still a brother.
Shaking my head, I ride out of the club gate and follow the fucker towards my gym, where he’ll beat the shit out of Mags.