Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Miles
I tap the keys on my laptop, the soft clack echoing in the dimly lit clubhouse.
The scent of Pine-Sol hangs heavy in the air.
The prospects cleaned the clubhouse from top to bottom today, putting it in tip top shape.
I’ve been keeping busy, getting shit together for the new gym.
Thankfully, I’m almost done with the design options for my father.
A rush of satisfaction wells up in me. This is my gym.
Sure it’s a partnership, but I own the majority stake.
This is my shot at something real, besides being a bouncer back in the Bronx at a club I don’t necessarily like.
The cash offer for the gym got accepted yesterday, but I knew it would.
The previous owner would be a fool to let the space sit there and cost him money.
It feels like a huge weight has been lifted.
I lean back in my chair, stretching my arms over my head, feeling the tightness in my muscles.
Just a few more tweaks to this design, then I can send it off.
Zane’s voice cuts through the haze. “Hey, Miles.”
I look up. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, that usual intensity in his gaze. “What’s up?”
“Looks good, man.” He nods toward my screen. “Stiletto told me you’re putting some roots down here.”
“Yeah,” I smirk, glancing back at the designs. “Thought to myself, if I’m stayin’ here, I wanna make a name for myself.”
“Smart move.” He steps inside, the door creaking behind him. “Montana’s got its charms. You’ll get used to it.”
“Charm? Not sure that’s what I’d call the local wildlife.” I chuckle, shaking my head at the memory of a massive mountain lion I spotted on the property last week.
“Fair point.” He leans closer, eyes narrowing. “But you’re building somethin’, right? Somethin’ legit.”
“Exactly. It feels damn good too,” I take a deep breath.
My life in the Bronx feels like a lifetime ago.
Those memories sting, especially when the girls pop into my mind. But I push them aside.
“Good,” he says, straightening up. “Keep that fire.”
“You won’t have to ever worry about that. Fire is in my veins.” I type a few more lines, focused.
My fingers fly over the keyboard, each click reminding me why I’m here.
Zane chuckles, “I could see that from the first moment I met ya. Just remember, you’ve got a family here now and I’m not just talkin’ about Stiletto. You got the club on your side.”
“Yeah, I know,” I glance at him, meeting his gaze. “It feels good to know we have that much support, so thank you.”
“That’s the club for you.” He shrugs, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “We’re one big, fucked up family.”
I close my laptop, the screen going dark. “I’m not used to the club life yet, but I don’t have anything bad to stay about it. I like it here, and Song is happy, so I am too.”
A sense of purpose settles in my chest.
It’s not just about the gym anymore—it’s about making something of myself, being part of something bigger.
“Yeah, I understand.” he says, his voice gruff but purposeful. “Look. I don’t normally do this, but do you wanna head out with a couple of us to the safehouse The Commander is holed up in?”
I pause, glancing at him. “Does a bear shit in the woods? Hell yeah I wanna go out with you all. That fucker doesn’t realize what he’s done.”
He leans against the wall, crossing his arms. “Okay, great. We’re gonna head out in five minutes, but don’t fret, we’ll be back in time for the party tonight.”
I arch my brows, a smirk creeping onto my face. “You’re really cool with me goin’ with ya?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m not tellin’ Stiletto what we’re doin, though. Make sure you keep it hush hush,” Zane replies, eyes narrowing. “She doesn’t need to be near the man who assaulted her. It feels right in my eyes that as her ol’ man you handle it for her.”
“Me?” I lean back, surprise flickering through me. “You think I can just waltz in and take care of business like that without her knowin’?”
Zane chuckles roughly, “You sure as hell better. Look, you’re young, but in this life we make our choices and don’t worry about the repercussions. You’re family now, Miles. I’ll teach you how to handle yourself as a man who’s in this world. It’s time to step up and this is the first test to see if you can do it.” His tone is serious, but there’s a hint of challenge in his eyes.
“I’ve handled others for her in the past,” I nod slowly, the memories slowly coming back to my mind. “Her mother set her up when she and her sister were livin’ back in the Bronx. Her mother was a well known prostitute. She couldn’t pay for somethin’, Song went lookin’ for her and her mother had set her up to be taken advantage of by a group of men.”
Zane pushes off the wall, a somber look spreading across his face. “Fuck. I had no idea.”
“Yeah, not somethin’ either of us want advertised,” I sigh heavily, “I found each and every one of the men who attacked her and killed them with my bare hands. So, I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty, not in the least bit.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Let’s do this then.” The words escape my lips before I can second-guess myself.
I’m ready for this.
Zane nods, a flicker of approval in his eyes.
“Meet me outside when you’re ready.”
“I’m right behind you,” I push past him, my heart racing.
I stride out into the crisp Montana air, the scent of pine filling my lungs.
This is what I want—action, purpose—something to make me feel better.
I hit the parking lot, spotting Zane’s massive dually truck glinting under the afternoon sun.
It looks like a beast, black and imposing.
I climb into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my skin.
“I’m glad you’re coming with us,” Zane says, eyeing me as he gets into the truck and quickly turns it on.
“Figured I might as well make myself useful.” My voice is steady, but underneath, tension swirls. I won’t let it show.
Blackjack, Bolt, and Chaz are already crammed in the back.
They all nod at me.
Blackjack, the VP of the club, grins, his tattoos flexing across his arms. “You ready for some fun?”
“Depends on your definition of fun,” I shoot back, smirking.
As we pull away from the clubhouse, the tires crunching gravel beneath us, I stare out the window.
Trees blur by, the landscape shifting into something wild and untamed.
It’s beautiful here, but even in the beauty of Big Sky country there are monsters lurking around every corner.
“Got a plan?” Bolt asks, his voice rich with curiosity.
“Improvise. That’s my specialty,” I retort, a grin breaking through.
The guys laugh, the tension easing a little.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Blackjack chimes in. “We’ll have your back.”
“Just focus on the job,” Zane says, his expression hardening once more. “No room for mistakes.”
“Understood.” I nod, determination solidifying within me.
We’re rolling into the unknown, but I won’t falter. Not today.
After a little over two hours the truck rumbles to a stop, dried up salt swirling like ghosts around us.
I peer through the windshield, taking in the single house on the property we’ve pulled up to.
It’s an old place, weathered wood and peeling paint.
No neighbors for miles.
A perfect place for a safe house.
“Here we are,” Zane says, his voice low and steady.
“Looks cozy,” I mutter, sarcasm lacing my words.
My heart races. This is real. We’re on the edge of something dark.
“Stay sharp,” Zane warns as he swings open the door.
The others pile out, each of them moving with purpose.
I follow, adrenaline buzzing beneath my skin.
“Let’s go!” Blackjack barks, leading the way as we approach the front steps.
“Right behind you,” I reply, trying to match their intensity.
But I’m no stranger to danger. Not anymore.
Blackjack turns to me, a gun suddenly in his hands. “Here.”
I take it, my fingers brushing against his.
The weight feels foreign. “What do I need this for? I don’t really need it. I use my hands.”
His eyes narrow, fierce determination etched into his features. “Take it anyway. You might change your mind.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “You think I’m scared?”
“No,” He shrugs, a grin breaking through. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, tucking the gun into my waistband.
The cold metal against my skin sends a rush through me.
I glance at the house, then back at the guys.
“Ready?” Zane asks, tension radiating from him.
The group of us give a nod, but don’t say a word.
We charge up the steps, hearts pounding, breaths shallow.
The door creaks open, revealing darkness within.
It’s time to show I belong here.
We crash through the door, adrenaline surging.
Zane shouts, his voice echoing in the dimly lit hallway. “Go! Go!”
I’m right behind him, heart pounding in my chest.
The stale air is thick with tension. I smell sweat and fear.
Gunshots ring out—sharp, chaotic. My instincts kick in. I drop low, scanning the room.
Blackjack yells, firing off a round. “On our left!”
I glance over. Two guys scramble for cover, their faces twisted in panic.
I shout, moving to the right. “Cover me!”
Bolt replies, his gun barking as he provides cover fire. “On it!”
I spot movement—a figure ducking behind an old couch.
My stomach tightens. Is that him, or one of his goons?
“Motherfucker,” I growl under my breath.
The Commander has to be here.
“Watch your six!” Chaz warns, but I don’t pay any attention to it.
I’m focused on him.
The man peeks out, eyes wild.
He doesn’t see me yet.
I grip the gun tighter, blood roaring in my ears.
Gunfire erupts again.
A bullet grazes the wall near me, dust flying like confetti.
I ignore it, too focused on the man in front of me.
My sights lock onto him.
He’s scrambling backward now, fear creeping into his expression.
“Hey!” I shout, steadying my aim. “You who I think you are?”
He looks up, recognition dawning. “I sure the hell am, you little fuck.”
I pull the trigger, but the shot misses.
The Commander ducks behind a rotting bookshelf—a coward’s move.
“Come out and play, you bastard! After all, you like takin’ out your anger on innocent people, right?” I shout.
He emerges, gun aimed right at me.
My breath catches in the pit of my stomach.
Oh, it’s on.
“Stop before I fuckin’ kill you!” he yells, a mad glint in his eye.
There’s no way in hell I’m stopping, not after what he put my woman through.
I charge forward, fury fueling my steps.
The world narrows to just us two.
He pulls the trigger. A deafening crack echoes, but I’m quicker.
I dive low, grabbing his wrist.
“Let fucking go of me!” He struggles, but I twist hard.
The gun clatters to the floor.
I shove him back, hard. “Nice try.”
He stumbles, tripping over a loose board, and goes crashing down the stairs.
“Ugh!” His body thuds against the wooden steps, limbs sprawled like a broken marionette.
“Get up!” I bark, stalking after him.
He tries—grunting, bracing himself on the railing.
But it’s too late.
The Commander groans, dragging himself upright.
The sight makes my blood boil.
“Pathetic.”
With one swift motion, I plant my boot square into his face.
The impact sends him crashing back down, head hitting the wood with a sickening smack.
“Stay down, you dumb fuck.”
I stare, waiting for him to move, but he groans instead.
Zane rushes up and grabs him by the throat.
With a violent shove, he sends him sprawling across the room.
The thud echoes like a gunshot and The Commander screams out in pain.
“You’re gonna pay for everything you’ve done to my club,” Zane snarls, rage radiating from him like heat off asphalt.
“Fuck with my business, huh? Tried to kill my kid?” He steps forward, towering over The Commander, who now scrambles on the floor, fear etched into every feature.
“Shot one of my prospects,” Zane continues, his voice a low growl, “kidnapped and raped another. Cost me fucking money.” Each word is a hammer striking home. “Not only am I making an example out of you, I’m taking your business too.”
I feel the tension in the air, electric, ready to snap.
Zane glances back at me, eyes ablaze.
He waves me over, and instinct pulls me forward.
In his hand is a brand new hunting blade—gleaming, sharp, deadly.
“Cut him where you want. I’ve said everything I need to say.” Zane says, his tone almost casual, but the weight of it hangs heavy between us.
I take the knife, the cold metal biting into my palm.
The Commander stares up at me, eyes wide, pleading. “Please... don’t...”
“Shut the fuck up,” I say, my voice steady, cutting through the air.
I step closer, the blade reflecting the dim light.
“Where do I start?” I ask myself, but the answer comes quick.
With a swift motion, I bring the knife down hard.
A scream rips through the air as I sever his dick.
Blood splatters, warm against my skin.
The color drains from his face, eyes bulging in shock.
“Help me!” he gasps, panic rising like bile.
“Help?” I echo, the taste of iron filling my mouth. “You think you deserve help?”
He convulses, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
With a final slice, I cut off his balls.
His screams pierce the walls, raw and desperate.
“You’re gonna suffer slowly until your last breath,” I say, watching the realization dawn on him.
Zane stands beside me, satisfaction twisting his lips.
The room feels alive with our fury, a twisted symphony of pain and vengeance.
And we’re just getting started.
The Commander’s body lies crumpled, a grotesque heap.
Blood pools beneath him, a dark stain spreading over the floor.
His breaths come in ragged gasps, and finally they go silent.
I turn away, scanning the room.
Dust motes dance in the filtered light from a grimy window.
The air is thick with the stench of sweat and blood.
I need a box—something to contain this trophy.
Zane stands nearby, fists clenched, still riding the high of adrenaline.
He watches me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “What’re you looking for?”
“A box,” I say, urgency creeping into my tone. “Something to put… him in.”
“Check the kitchen.” Zane gestures toward a doorway. “Might be something there.”
I nod and move swiftly, dodging debris on the floor.
My heart pounds, each step echoing in my ears.
I push through the door, stepping into a dimly lit kitchen.
The counters are cluttered, old dishes stacked haphazardly.
I search frantically, opening cabinets.
Nothing but dust and forgotten utensils.
And then—there it is. A small cardboard box, torn at one corner.
I yank it out, feeling the rough texture against my palms.
It’s not pretty, but it’ll do.
“Got it!” I call back to Zane as I head toward the living room again.
He glances over, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “You really are a sick fuck.”
“Never said I wasn’t,” I retort, barely containing a grin myself.
Kneeling beside The Commander’s lifeless form, I feel a rush of power surge through me.
The box sits open, waiting.
I take a deep breath, steadiness returning.
I reach down, wrapping my fingers around his severed dick.
Warmth still lingers—sickeningly alive, yet dead.
It lands with a soft thud, a final statement.
I shut the flaps, sealing it like a gift wrapped tight.
“Done,” I announce, standing up. The victory pulses through me.
Zane crosses his arms. “Now what?”
I’m gonna wrap it up, give it to Song.”
He laughs, the sound harsh and wild. “She’ll love that.”
“Yeah,” I say, the corners of my mouth twitching. “She deserves to know what her ol’ man will do for her.”