Club 22 (Hades Book 3)

by Tate James

  CLUB 22

  HADES #3

  Tate James

  Contents

  STALK TATE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  TIMBER

  A LETTER FROM TATE

  Also By Tate James

  Tate James

  Club 22: Hades #3

  Copyright © Tate James 2021

  All rights reserved

  First published in 2021

  James, Tate

  Club 22: Hades #3

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Tamara Kokic

  Photographer: Wander Aguiar

  Models: Evan Keys and Chris Kash

  Editing: Heather Long (content) and Jax Garren (line).

  To the haters, who lit a fire under my ass.

  Thank you, you miserable bastards, you did me a favour.

  STALK TATE

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  CASS

  Two months ago…

  Irritation rippled through me as I glanced down at my watch. I'd been lurking around the bar for way too long already, yet she still hadn't emerged from her office. Was she okay in there?

  As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I shook it away. Of course she was okay. She was Hades, more than fucking capable of handling herself if a bunch of mouthy upstarts wanted to test her dominance.

  I glanced at my watch again. Shit. Not even a minute since the last time I checked it.

  "Can I get you another drink, Cass?" the pretty, young bartender, Sara, asked me with a heavy bat of her false lashes. She knew she wasn't my type, but it didn't stop her flirting.

  I shook my head, declining, then finished the last mouthful of my beer. I'd hung around long enough that I was starting to draw attention, and that sure as fuck wasn't going to do me any favors. And for what? To feed my sick obsession with seeing a woman too guarded, too beautiful, and too damn untouchable to ever be mine.

  With a self-disgusted grunt, I slid off my barstool with every intention of leaving the club. Yet, as if on autopilot, my feet carried me toward the narrow staircase that would lead up to the mezzanine level where I knew Hades kept her office. Where I'd caught a flash of her blazing red hair disappear hours ago with a handful of Timberwolf enforcers trailing behind like naughty puppies.

  "Boss is in a meeting," the stern-faced, muscle-bound Timberwolf bouncer announced as he stepped in front of me before I reached the first step. "Doesn't wanna be disturbed."

  I narrowed my eyes, picturing my fist slamming into this steroid-pumped fucker's face. Vividly imagining the way his cartilage would crunch under my knuckles and the hot, wet spray of blood from his nose. But shit, he was just doing his job. So I rubbed a hand over my jaw, thinking, then gave a small nod of understanding.

  "I'll swing back later, then." Even though I really shouldn't. I had no good reason to request a face-to-face with Hades. None. Except that I just wanted to see her. It felt like I hadn't seen her in weeks, even though we'd interacted in a professional capacity plenty. It was different under the eyes of rivals, though. I couldn't just watch her like I'd grown so addicted to doing—not with that punk-ass bitch Skate watching my every move.

  Reluctantly, I forced myself to turn away, but the bouncer called out again.

  "Hold up, Reaper." His gruff voice made me pause and tilt my head back toward him. His finger was to his ear, holding his radio earpiece in place as he listened to something. Then he raised the microphone attached to the wire and muttered a few words into it before flicking his gaze up to mine. "Boss said to send you up. She just finished her meeting."

  This was undoubtedly a bad idea, but I just brushed past him and started up the stairs, nonetheless. Fuck me, I needed to turn around, walk out of the damn club, and call up a sure thing to fuck away all this godforsaken tension. But no. No, I just had to torture myself further.

  The Timberwolf enforcers passed me in the short corridor that housed the administration offices, and none of their gazes were friendly. Hell, they were downright hostile, but it didn't faze me in the least. There was only one person in the state who intimidated me, and it was none of these testosterone-soaked bastards.

  A second after I passed them, they were gone from my mind as I spotted the door to Hades’s office slightly ajar. Goddamn if my pulse didn't kick up a gear.

  Still, I kept my expression neutral and my posture relaxed. No matter how badly I wanted to do filthy things to the woman in that office, she was still a threat. I'd seen what she was capable of when pushed and knew better than to underestimate her. So I paused and tapped politely at her door to announce myself.

  Her eyes swept up slowly, clearly having already known I was there before I knocked, and her gaze was as unreadable as ever when it met mine.

  "Cass," she said in that hard-edged voice of hers. I ached to hear her speak to me without the carefully built fortress guarding her every fucking thought. "I didn't know we had a meeting planned."

  Neither did I, and yet here I am.

  I just gave a casual shrug and took a few more steps into the office, glancing around for her shadow. "Where's Zed at?"

  Her brow twitched with something faintly resembling irritation. "Did you come here to see me or him? My time is money, Cassiel, and you're wasting it."

  Not exactly the response I'd quietly been hoping for, given I'd just sat at the fucking bar amidst a crowd of Gatsby-styled drinkers, desperate to get my fix of my worst obsession. But also not unexpected. I folded my arms over my chest, wishing like hell she'd check me out lik
e her bartender had been a few minutes ago.

  "I was in the area taking care of business," I lied. "Figured I'd stop by and tell you the boys at Rex’s are expecting Seph's car tomorrow. They'll get it fixed up and dropped back to you before school on Monday morning."

  Yes, I could have told her this by text message. But then I wouldn't have a fresh image of her in my mind while cramming my dick down some random gang whore's throat later. I knew how fucked up that was, but so what? I never claimed to be a fucking choir boy.

  "Is that all?" she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. I liked to lie to myself and pretend she was too young for me, but it was the weakest of lies. It only took one look into her eyes to see she'd dealt with more in her twenty-three years than most seasoned mob bosses would see their entire lives. She'd dived headfirst into the gauntlet of fire and come out harder than titanium.

  I searched my brain for another excuse for why I was there, any excuse, but came up blank. Fuck. Now she was staring at me even harder, and it was making sweat form on my spine. How? How could she have that effect on me?

  "Yeah," I muttered, still with nothing to fucking say but bluffing like a poker champ, "some prick tried to slash the tires on Zed's Ferrari on my way in. I scared him off, but he had that Wraith look about him." I gave a shrug. "Maybe look into it. Skate's been acting shadier than usual."

  Hades continued to stare at me for a long moment, her eyes still totally unreadable as her fingernails tapped a rhythm on the side of her crystal tumbler. I hadn't even noticed when I'd walked in, but there was barely a mouthful left in her glass and the bottle sitting on her desk was less than half full. Was she drunk?

  "Cass, why do I get the feeling those aren't the reasons you came in here tonight?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. A faint smile touched her scarlet lips, and my chest tightened. She wasn't drunk—her gaze was far too steady and clear—but shit, she was probably on her way.

  Desperate not to let my thoughts play out over my expression, I swiped a hand over my face and broke eye contact with her. This had been a bad fucking idea. But she almost always had Zed lurking somewhere nearby, unknowingly keeping me in check and reminding me that she already had someone. Someone with a hell of a lot less damage than me. I hadn't realized how fucking tempting it would be to make a move when we were alone.

  "I should head out," I muttered, not answering her question. But I didn't leave.

  She pushed her chair back from the desk and stood, making me freeze to the spot. Fucking hell, she was gorgeous. Her tight jeans hugged her legs in a way that made me envious of the goddamn denim. I was jealous of fabric. Christ, I needed an intervention.

  A couple of steps carried her around the desk, and I needed to swallow heavily at the picture she painted in those sexy-as-fuck heels and the huge gun strapped under her arm right beside her breast.

  "What are you doing tonight, Cass?" she asked, stepping right into my personal space so I needed to look down to meet her eyes. Fuck, she was short, even in those heels. My hands itched to grab her by the waist and shove her against the wall while I impaled her sweet cunt on my dick. If I thought for a second she wouldn't put a bullet in me for that, I'd have done it by now.

  I gave a small frown in response. "Uh, Reaper shit," I grunted. "Why?"

  Her left shoulder rose and fell in a slight shrug. "I've had a crappy day and could use some company tonight."

  What... the fuck? Is she hitting on me?

  Dumbstruck, I just blinked at her in confusion. Then she bit her lower lip and her usually hard gaze heated and I was a fucking dead man. My dick strained against my jeans, and my pulse raced like I was a prepubescent boy about to be kissed for the first time.

  "Hades..." I murmured, trying and failing to keep the ache of longing out of my voice. But shit. Was I on a trip? Nah, not possible. I hadn't even smoked tonight, and unless someone had drugged my beer, there was no way I was imagining this. Was there?

  She drew a noticeable breath, then reached up to place a hand on the back of my neck. The shock of her fingers against my skin was like a lightning strike, and I could barely breathe when she leaned in closer.

  Fate was never so kind to me, though. The second I made the decision to kiss her, the false wall panel behind her slid silently open, and Zed met my eyes with a threatening glare, his hand resting casually on the butt of his rifle. A split second before Hades’s lips met mine, I turned away, and her kiss seared a hot brand against my cheek instead.

  "Sorry," I grunted as my stained soul screamed in agony, "I've got shit to do."

  Anger and embarrassment flashed across her beautiful face as she stepped back, but it was gone in an instant as her signature hardness returned. "I guess I misread the way you were just eye-fucking my mouth then, huh?"

  I swallowed heavily, hating myself already. But Zed's presence was the last nail in this coffin. She deserved better than my broken bullshit. Better to squash the spark now before it burned either one of us.

  "Yeah," I muttered. "You did. I don't fuck children."

  It was a phrase I used so damn often when Shadow Grove’s college girls came sniffing around, searching for a taste of the dark side, so it just fell from my lips before I could even consider the consequences. But I instantly regretted it when her eyes widened and her body flinched like I'd physically struck her.

  Fuck. Fuck. What had I just done?

  Too late now, though. So I jerked my head to Zed in acknowledgement and stomped my moody shit out of the office, out of the bar, and straight across to my bike. I needed to get the fuck out of there before I finally broke and begged for forgiveness at her feet. What a fucking mess.

  I didn't look back once as I kicked my engine over and roared out of the parking lot, but I had to stop at a traffic light two blocks away. A sleek black Ferrari pulled up beside me as I waited for the light to change, and fury rippled through my whole damn body.

  "Fuck off, De Rosa," I snarled, barely even glancing over at the driver, who'd rolled his window down.

  Still, I could see enough of him to know he was smirking at me in victory. Son of a motherfucking whore. If I wasn't afraid of the backlash from Hades, I'd have kicked his head in by now.

  "She's out of your league, Saint," he replied, but his voice lacked the mockery I was expecting. It made me turn to inspect him closer, and I found nothing but bitter regret on his face.

  I huffed. "No shit. Yours too."

  Zed didn't argue. He just jerked a nod. "I know."

  The light changed to green, and we both peeled out in opposite directions without another word. Zed seemed to be heading toward 7th Circle, and I was on a mission to get fucked up and fucked. Anything to make me forget the monumental mistake I'd just made with the one woman who haunted my dreams day and night.

  Shit. I really was a fuckup.

  HADES

  Present

  It was impossible to miss the venomous looks I was catching from the huge turnout of Reapers and former Wraiths gathered in the chapel. None of them were ballsy enough to outright confront me, but I could sense what they were all thinking. The mix of animosity and fear was so thick it coated my skin like sludge, but none of it affected me. None of it shook my stoic, professional expression and posture. None of them scared me in the least, so their hatred was inconsequential.

  Cass had been loved by his gang, there was no question about that. He'd been the best thing that'd happened to the Reapers since they'd been formed by the D'Ath brothers three generations ago and had made more of a positive impact in just a year and a half as their leader than Zane D'Ath's entire reign.

  So it was no great surprise that his death was being honored with a full funeral service, whereas other fallen gang leaders barely even earned a death certificate.

  I shouldn't have allowed it. He'd openly disobeyed one of my strictest rules and had paid the price. Traitors shouldn't be honored. But when Roach had asked my permission to hold a funeral, I hadn't been able to refuse. How could I? Cass w
as... Fuck.

  "We shouldn't be here," Zed muttered under his breath from my right side. He was heavily armed—like almost everyone else in the chapel—and his sharp gaze continuously scanned the hostile crowd around us.

  "Fuck that," Lucas hissed on my other side. "Hades can go wherever the fuck she wants. And she wants to be here. So shut the fuck up."

  Both Zed and I turned to look at Lucas, but he just tipped his chin up and refocused on the weeping woman at the front of the chapel telling a story about some abusive ex that Cass had saved her from.

  Lucas had changed so much since Chase had taken him a month ago. He'd always been mature for his age, but the torture he'd suffered at my ex's hands had hardened him, brought him deeper into my world. As much as I should have regretted it... I didn't. Every new facet of Lucas's personality that emerged was just hooking me harder.

  I didn't say a damn word for the entire service, sitting on the hard wooden pew with my spine as straight as a board and my black dress immaculate. But inside, I was a mess. Every accusing side-eye from the Reapers had me reliving that moment when I’d shot one of the men I was so dangerously in love with.