Chapter 11
1855 Words
Mike
Three hundred and twenty-two. That’s how many times my ceiling fan has been spinning around.
My finger keeps twitching on my duvet; red is seeping into my vision. I tried calling Elena and she still won’t pick up – I’ve been calling her every day for a solid two weeks now.
The woman that I love won’t talk to me. My club is no longer mine. The man who claims to be my uncle -half-uncle killed a man that I was actually starting to like, and I’ve been stuck working for the sick shithead.
Blood. I need to fight. The adrenaline is starting to pump its way through my body, I need to let out some frustrations.
The gym punching bags won’t do this time.
Sitting up, I pace my house to try and calm down. I know fighting isn’t the answer, but in this case, maybe it is. I press the palm of my hand against my eye to will the overpowering red to go away.
It’s not working. I run my hands over my face then stare at my painting hanging over the two-way mirror that serves no purpose anymore since she’s gone.
Screw it. Time to start checking things off my list.
******
Shoving the kickstand into the gravel with my boot, I dismount Layla to push my way through the doors of what was once my club.
My responsibility.
My way of life.
I can feel the blood pumping through my body on overtime.
Where is he?
Once through the doors, I scan the space. Loud music vibrates off my chest; there are more half-naked girls here than what I remember. The place is darker, staleness mixed with m*******a fills my lungs from the cloud floating over Axel’s shocked expression while a chick is on her knees between his legs.
Classy.
The floor is dirty, layered with leveled old smoke, spilled drinks, empty beer bottles, and scuff marks.
This place has gone to hell. This is probably what Elena thought this place looked like when she was here for the first time before coming inside.
The memory of that day clenches my chest. I move my head to the side to c***k my neck and form a fist with my hands.
I’m gonna kill him.
A couple of biker bunnies squeal and move behind a couch, they can sense something is coming. I look over to the bar area and see Ace behind it. I speed my way towards the area; he lifts the palms of his hands up. “Red. Red, calm down, man.” He cowers off to the side while I rush behind the bar to find some heavy glass bottles.
I take my selection and walk with purpose and determination, pass the scared w****s, Shady - with wide dark eyes who is in the middle of lighting a cigar. I shove my way practically through Squirelly, who is begging me to calm down and stomp all the way to the Presidential Suite.
I kick open the door and there on my damn bed is Jace with a w***e straddling him. He sees me and curses while pushing the girl off him to the floor in attempts of getting her out my way. She scrambles around on the floor, grabbing her belongings; I throw one of the bottles at Jace, he dives just in time and it shatters against the wall.
“Get out,” I snarl at the scared blue-eyed girl. She rushes past me while Jace pulls on his boxers.
I calmly walk back to the door to shut it with a creak then lock it. Slowly, I lift my head to meet Jace’s crazy pale eyes. He holds out his hands in front of him.
He’s shaking, the little b***h is scared.
“Mike, buddy. Calm down.” His voice falters – good. It means he can see how murderous I feel.
I stalk towards him.
“Listen to me, man – s**t!” I throw another bottle at him and he ducks just in time as the bottle smashes against the drywall behind him. While he’s crouched down, I launch for him and land a mean punch to his jaw. Hard.
Jace is no wimp, though, he cuts me with his left hook - enough for my legs to stumble backward. His fists grab at my shirt to take me to the floor, I manage to get on top of him when he swings his right fist to my face. I punch him square in the nose a few times - enough to get him dazed for a short moment. The cracking of his nose is music to my ears. He tries to move my body to pin me to the floor; I grab his throat with my hands, lock my arms and squeeze tight. He punches me in the gut while he’s fighting for air, I don’t lose my hold. He jabs my eye – cheating bastard! I loosen my grip and he headlocks me into a chokehold on my knees.
I try to reach for his face, but I can’t seem to reach anything to stab or pull. My breathing is getting harder to manage.
He’s good at this chokehold thing.
“Mike, man. You gotta listen to me. I’m on your side alright!” he shouts.
I grunt and elbow him in the ribs. “Ah!” he cries and loosens his hold around my neck. I reach for my gun and point it right at his face as we both climb to our feet.
He puts his hands up. “Listen to me,” he demands.
“f**k you, Jace! I can’t believe a word you say,” I seethe, spitting out blood.
He looks me in the eyes. “I took a damn bullet for you, man!” He wipes the drops of blood oozing from his nose.
“Exactly!” I yell. “You took a damn bullet for me, so what the hell, Jace.”
“You are my brother. I’m telling you, I’m on your side. All this s**t with Randall is a way to take him out from within. You gotta believe me!” His voice strains in a plea.
It’s only because there’s a gun in his face. “Bullshit.”
He lowers his hands to his sides. “It’s all been apart of the plan, from the very beginning. He is a sick asshole and I’m tired of him getting away with what he does. He needs to be put in his place, and the only way we can do that is to get close to him. Get him to trust us.”
What?
I lower my pistol not sure if I should believe him. This is all just messed up. I put my pistol in the back of my pants then scrub my face with my hands and start yelling colorful profanities.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He swallows and steps closer. “I had to strip you of your patch and become president, so that Randall would be able to see that he could trust me. He wants the club. I’m merely the messenger to those guys out there now. He needed to get you separate from the club because he wants you to specifically work for him for reasons that I don’t even know.” Guilt takes over his features. “I knew he was your uncle. This whole time.”
Blood is starting to boil within my veins once more. “You knew?” I growl.
His hand goes back up. “Yes. Okay. He knew that if I could strip you of your patch and become president then you wouldn’t really have any other choice. He knows that you would be doing it just to keep him away from Elena. She was the ticket in all of this. He knew that if he compromised her life that you would agree to work for him. He only ever wanted you.”
I look down at the stained floor. It makes sense. “You told Isaac we were in the house.” It’s not a question, I already know the answer.
He nods his head, then holds out a finger. “I did plant bugs, though.”
“Elena is innocent!” I bellow. “Why kill Elijah?”
Jace closes his eyes and breathes in. “If Elena didn’t have someone to protect her then she would have been vulnerable to him. If she had her father, then you would have refused… because she would be safe from harm because Elijah would have protected her.”
“In order to get me, he had to die.”
Jace’s head jerks down once for a curt nod. “I’m acting president of this club for Randall – the guys don’t know about this. You are his acting puppet – he knew that if the club broke up then there would be less of a chance for a war to break out between Marcus and the Devil’s Henchmen.” He points to himself. “Everything I did, everything you’re doing, it’s all to be able to gain his trust in order to take him and this organization down.”
I did not see this coming.
“How long have you been planning this?” I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
He places his hands on his hips and gives a long whistle. “About a year ago he came to me and planted the idea of how I should be president of this club and not you. I saw an opportunity and I took it, then everything just fell into place.”
“And when were you planning on telling me?”
“I wasn’t. The fewer people who know about this the better.” He rakes a hand through the blond mop on his head.
“So why tell me this now?”
He gives a half-laugh. “If I didn’t, you would have killed me.”
I shrug. “I would have tortured you first.”
“After everything we’ve been through, you would have tortured me?” His eyes grow wide.
I don’t hesitate. “After the stunts, you pulled behind my back… yeah.”
He thinks about that for a moment, probably remembering the way I handled the whole Isaac situation. “Well, shit.”
A moment of reflection passes between us before I ask, “Who sent the video to Elena?”
Jace sits on the bed. “I have no clue.”
****I was hoping to upload three chapters instead of two today, but I'm having a bit of a writer's block problem. Grrr! I hate it when that happens. I'll try to work on it and hopefully upload another chapter over the weekend to meet my goal of three chapters a week.
Thank you for reading and I hope you are enjoying the story! Who do you think sent the video message to Elena? Can Jace be trusted? Let me know your thoughts :) ****
- Writer
