Wrath’s Lunatic (Pagan Souls of Oconee MC #1)

Wrath Chapter 1

Pagan’s Pub was hopping, but then again, it was Saturday night.

It was always super busy on weekends, though I couldn’t complain about how it did during the week.

It was a profitable business for the club.

It was one of the ones we’d had the longest. It had existed back in the days when the Pagans weren’t so legitimate.

That was when the club was a one-percenter MC.

Dad and his buddies had been wild and hard-living men.

I was raised in that life. Back then, there were fights in here almost every night and twice on weekend nights, and more than alcohol had been sold in the back room: weed, illegal gambling, guns, you name it.

But that life eventually either killed you, typically when you were young, or saw you spending a lot of your life in prison.

And then you had to worry about being killed by rivals on the inside.

The brothers who went to prison constantly had to watch their backs, and whether inside or outside the Pen, all of them had to stay alert.

And their families and friends were targets if you came up against the wrong club.

The Pagans had always had a rule that women and kids were hands-off.

We didn’t make war on them even to get back at their men.

However, some people didn’t have that same moral compass, and they’d beat, rape, and kill women and kids.

You had to be a tough, courageous woman to be involved with a biker in a club like that.

Some of Dad’s brothers were lucky to have women like that—my dad, Rage, hadn’t been.

He ended up with my mom. At first, the way he told it, Mom had been fun, and they had a great time together.

He was lulled into believing she was ideal to be his old lady.

That all changed after he claimed her, and she had me.

Then she demanded he leave his club. She complained about how much time he spent at the club or away on runs.

Mom knew they made their money running guns, selling weed, and doing other illegal things.

She never objected before, but she did after she had me. Dad never figured out why.

They hated each other, and she made his life a living hell.

But Dad stayed with her and let her continue her hatefulness.

When I was older, I asked him why. He answered that he thought having two parents rather than one was better, even if they detested each other.

His outlook changed when I was seven years old.

Mom was constantly accusing him of cheating on her with the club bunnies and other women who hung around the club.

He vehemently denied it. I didn’t know if he did or not, but Rage swore to me when I asked as an adult that he never cheated on her, despite what she thought.

Having an old lady in his book meant you kept your pants zipped with other women.

Many of his club brothers weren’t so particular, but he was.

What finally ended them was when Dad and I took a trip together.

We’d gone up in the mountains to a cabin to fish and relax for a week.

It was just a guys’ trip. Unfortunately, I ended up getting sick, so we returned home early.

We didn’t have cell phones then, so Mom had no idea we were coming back.

When we walked into our house, which wasn’t on a compound back then, it was to find her in bed with some townie.

As Rage beat the hell out of the guy, he yelled at her that if he could keep his cock in his pants all these years, she should’ve kept her legs closed to other men because she sure as fuck kept them that way for him. It wasn’t exactly something a seven-year-old should hear or understand.

Mom threw a fit, and their screaming match continued well after the man was thrown from the house.

He was still naked as he sailed out the front door and ran for his life.

Neighbors all saw and heard it. Mom was shown the door with her bags in tow when my parents’ fight ended.

She demanded that she take me with her. Dad informed her that if she tried to take me, he’d make sure she took a dirt nap. She left and never looked back.

Some might think that would crush a young boy.

It didn’t. My mom had barely tolerated me.

She always bitched about how I reminded her of Dad.

And since she hated him, she mostly felt the same about me.

The only reason she tried to take me was to use me against Rage.

She knew he loved me, and it would kill him to lose his son.

Since they’d never been legally married, there was no divorce to deal with, a small blessing.

And she knew better than to go to court to try to get custody of me.

My life as a child in the club wasn’t what most people would call normal or ideal, but overall, I loved it.

The men kept the danger away from their families as much as possible.

We learned how to stay alert, spot trouble, and take care of ourselves if necessary.

There were times when a lockdown was required, or they’d send their loved ones out of town for a while, but for a kid, it was an adventure.

Growing up, I knew I wanted to be in the club.

And that didn’t waiver, even when the decision was made that the club wouldn’t continue to be one-percenters.

The cost of blood and lives was too much.

It wasn’t the illegal stuff and danger that drew me to it, so I didn’t care if the club changed.

It was the brotherhood, sense of family, and riding the bikes that did it for me.

With an MC, you were close-knit and always had people who had your back, no matter what.

I began to officially prospect at eighteen, though I did stuff even earlier than that.

I did my year of hell and was patched in at nineteen.

By then, Rage was the president of the club.

He’d gotten that not long after Mom left.

Being a legacy like me wasn’t as easy as some people thought.

I worked twice as hard to prove myself worthy of my cut.

I didn’t want anyone to believe I got it simply because of who my dad was.

And Rage made sure I didn’t. He criticized and badgered me twice as much as any prospect and did it in front of others.

I knew why he did it, so I never lost my cool.

The man I am today is all due to him. And the values he instilled in me led me to become president after he stepped down.

It hadn’t been a matter of him handing it over and done.

The club nominated and voted on officers.

I’d been shocked when one of the others mentioned my name.

I waved it off. There was no way they’d make me president.

Several older brothers would want the position and could do it well.

I was stunned when the voting ended up making me the winner by a landslide, and it occurred when I was twenty-six.

My club brothers claimed no one knew the club better or worked harder than I did, which was why they wanted me as their president.

Dad was thrilled and as proud as he could be.

Rage stayed in the club. He stepped down because he wanted to enjoy life as a regular member and not have so much resting on his shoulders.

All this was running through my head when I should be paying attention to what was happening in the pub because of the man I was staring at across the bar.

Dad was there tonight, as were other Pagans, relaxing and drinking while listening to the band.

Sometimes, doing it here rather than at the clubhouse was nice.

Rage was sitting at the bar with Betty next to him.

Seeing her made me smile. Betty was such a great woman and perfect for my dad.

They’d met about three and a half years ago.

It was purely by accident that they crossed paths.

There was an issue with our friend Maverick and his old lady, Rylan, in Hunters Creek, Tennessee.

Maverick was part of our friend club, the Archangel’s Warriors MC.

Betty had helped Rylan when she was hiding from her stepbrother.

After Rylan was reunited with Maverick, Betty came to see her.

Rage took one look at her and claimed Betty on the spot.

However, Betty refused to give in that easily.

She made him work for it and kept denying the claim.

Even to this day, she’d tell him and others she wasn’t his old lady, even though she wore a property cut proclaiming she was.

It would drive Dad crazy, which was why she did it.

She kept him on his toes. I loved it, even though sometimes they made me insane and wanted to pull my hair out.

Well, maybe it was more Rage than Betty. He was a character.

It kind of boggled my mind that out of the active members in my chapter of the Pagans Souls, only Rage was settled with an old lady. He and Betty were too old to have children together, but she did have an adult daughter, Braelyn, and a son, Hayes.

Braelyn was sweet yet sassy, like her mom.

We loved her, and she was often at the clubhouse.

She didn’t live far away. She moved close after Betty got with Dad.

On the other hand, Hayes hated that his mom was with a biker.

When she refused to leave Rage, her son had cut off contact.

He hoped it would force her to choose him.

Betty told him she was staying with Rage and that he could be a grownup and accept it or continue to be a sulking brat.

Hayes was still in the brat phase. I doubted he’d ever stop and didn’t care if he didn’t.

Good riddance. I’d claimed Braelyn as a sister.

I always wanted one. I had more brothers than I knew what to do with.