Consumed By Rage: A Stained Souls MC Novel - Book 1

by Zara Teleg

  “Good luck, I’ll be right by the side sending you good vibes so you’ll crush that asshole.” With a wink, I left him in the room. The crowd became rowdier with every minute that passed in anticipation of the main event.

  Rage stood at the entrance to the arena. His long curls were pulled back into a tight ponytail that just reached the shaved part of his head. A menacing look etched on his face. The crowd was still roaring for their last champion, Richard. He kept encouraging the audience as his entrance music, Power by Kanye West, came to a close. Richard stalked around the ring with his nose in the air, flexing his biceps, making a show of his body. Gross. Somebody needs his ego stroked. I knew we didn’t fit. I felt disgusted just knowing I ever dated the sleaze-ball.

  The lights dimmed as the emcee began Rage’s introduction. “Let’s introduce tonight’s challenger…”

  Silence filled the arena when the lights went completely black. Vibrations rumbled through the crowd as the large speakers began to play Rage’s music. The song’s base had everyone to their feet chanting Rage’s name. The three of us girls were placed midway down the ramp, waiting for Rage to start walking down.

  I looked up to see a single light illuminating Rage’s figure at the top of the ramp, giving him a larger-than-life appearance. The shadows and light effects defined every muscle. Like a comic hero come to life, his hulking arms, expansive chest, and lean abs were on full display against the stark white and red gym shorts that clung to his body and grazed just above his knees. He raised his arms, and the already outrageous crowd went out of their minds.

  Excitement and anticipation replaced my fear as I took in the crowd’s reaction to Rage. They knew him. They adored him.

  He entered the octagon. He spun slowly, pointing to the crowd. As the words about the guy’s fist making the other guy’s face hit the floor bellowed from the speakers, his finger stopped and pointed directly at a fuming Richard. The crowd made it no secret, they favored Rage.

  As the announcer let out, “Twelve-time champion, R-AAAAAAG-E Erickson,” Rage pumped his fists a final time, and the three of us ring girls held our signs high, circling the octagon.

  The two huge men resembled tigers in a jungle, ready to attack and defend their territory. Rage turned his gaze to me when the stare down came to an end. Flexing his biceps, Richard looked to see where Rage’s attention had gone. An evil sneer crossed his face when he saw me. The asshole then made a show of licking his lips and blowing me a kiss. Immediately, Rage charged at him. The ref had to keep them apart before the fight even began.

  Both of them were now on their respective sides of the cage waiting for the go, their eyes never leaving each other. I looked at Rage, a warrior in all respects, from his head down to his bare feet. Feet that were on a mat with crimson spatter from the previous contenders.

  A boulder formed in my gut, just as the men were called to the center to start the fight. Rage found my eyes one last time. I mouthed, “FUCK HIM UP.” His eyes then went back to the large man in front of him, matching his stare. Oh, my God! I swallowed the rock in my throat. How could I watch this? I silently prayed. The bell rang.

  Rage

  The words Juliet had mouthed to me were clear as day. Fuck him up. I didn’t need the instruction to know what fate awaited the man who had tormented me through my life and then had the fucking nerve to think he could look at Juliet that way. My usual reaction to taunts was no reaction. The moment his tongue gestured to her, all my common sense left. I just wanted to tear him apart. I felt like a hungry lion and wanted to devour the bastard.

  I was a big man, much bigger than most men, but I wasn’t clumsy or slow. Trained in mixed martial arts, wrestling, and boxing, I was a lethal street fighter with fluid range and deadly moves. My speed matched my strength. In size, Richard and I were perfectly matched, but in skill, we were miles apart. I heard he’d won his last fight only because he cheated. This poor loser didn’t stand a chance against me. And now, he’d gone and thrown fuel into my fury. Maybe he was baiting me. He should have learned to never poke the bear.

  The ref brought us to the center. Head to head. Under my breath, I growled, “Ramsey, you’re a fucking dead man.” His eyes bore straight into mine, like lasers searing through me. Twenty years of built-up hatred toward each other brought us to this moment. Tonight was payback for what he did to Juliet. I finally had free rein to fuck his world up, and that was what I planned on doing.

  The bell rang, and we split apart. Our eyes still engaged, we were dancing and circling each other, moving like animals. For the first few moments, I studied his weaknesses. I easily moved around the fists that cut the air, blowing past my face. I couldn’t help but smile to agitate his offensive strategy.

  Fighting was in my bones, like how a musician feels the music and learns the rhythm. I could feel the tempo in a man’s maneuvers, easily revealing his weaknesses. I watched his cadence, letting him expose his flaws. There it was.

  I measured the steps…three, two, one. My fist tightened and landed on the right side of his jaw, knocking him off balance. Surprising me, he was back to his stance, recovering quickly. Spitting blood, he smiled, “Is that all you got, biker trash?” He then came at me with a leg to my side, and I felt the piercing pain of a cracked rib. And just like that, the fight was on.

  I advanced several paces, sending out a fake-out punch to his right. He leaned into my left hook, catching him under his chin. The crowd that was white noise in the background was now cheering me on. Richard charged me, swinging violently, his white shorts were now stained red. We embraced, leaning on one another, our sweat mixing and running off our bodies. We were both vying for a chance to get the other down to the mat for submission. Locked together, neither of us yielded.

  Our faces were so close, Richard whispered, “I can’t wait for another chance to get in those pants and touch that tight ass when Juliet realizes what a loser you are, lying knocked out on the mat, and I know that bitch has some ass.”

  A new strength shot through me with that mental image of Juliet with Richard. I pushed out and forced him back far enough to make a space. I landed a hard kick to his gut. He stumbled and fell on his ass. From his back, he jumped to his feet.

  Bobbing and weaving, we came at one another. Each of us landing as many jabs as we missed. Richard swiped my left eye, connecting with a sharp slice. Blood gushed from the wound, filling my vision. He used the momentary blindness to get a few shots to my already cracked rib. There had to be something on his wrapped hand that made the cut; it was impossible to have it come from his fist alone.

  My right eye found Juliet on the side, covering her face. I would not disappoint her. I mustered all that I had. I stood still in a wide stance in the middle of the cage. Our eyes locked, and I waved him to come at me. The crowd roared, forcing him to take the challenge.

  Richard bent his head from side to side, cracking his neck. I waved him in again, four fingers close together in a sharp invitation. He advanced. Three, two, one. I jumped into the air, moving to the side in a jumping scissor kick, knocking him down on his face and bouncing off the mat. The crowd made a thunderous noise.

  I was now over his body, delivering several punches. His one hand got free and punched my already blood-filled eye. A scream tore through my throat with the pain of skin splitting further. I let go and he was to his feet throwing down a punch, but I rolled away, leaving him to hit the bloodied mat.

  “You fucking cheater.” I spat, wet blood coating my face as I got to my feet.

  “Yeah, when Juliet’s moaning my name, I’ll remember that.”

  I wiped away the blood that streamed down my face like tears. Richard began to charge with a smug look. I backed up two paces, remembering the tempo. Three, two, one. I leaped up and landed a furious Superman punch with all my power, hitting his smug ugly face. Knock down! I climbed on top of him, finishing him off with continued punches until he was out cold.

  The ref pulled me off his body, inserting himself betw
een me and Richard’s limp body, protecting it from further damage, before raising my arm in victory.

  Screams, oohs, and aahs were rumbling from the crowd. The cheering continued as money exchanged hands. Richard’s entourage of assholes carried him off. I loved the rush of a fight and even more of a win, but tonight, it was more than that. I searched out Juliet with my one good eye. I couldn’t find her in the sea of people scattering in all directions. All my brothers were entering the ring holding me up on their shoulders. As I rose above the crowd, her colorful streaks became visible. The girls were behind me on the inner part of the ring. The moment my feet touched the floor, I beelined to her.

  Juliet’s hand covered her mouth; tears filled her green eyes. “Are you—” I crashed my mouth over hers, not letting her finish.

  The crowd was screaming, encouraging us. I pressed Juliet’s body more tightly to mine, lifting her with one arm. When our kiss finally broke, she buried her head in the crook of my neck. My nostrils were filled with her scent, making the pain more bearable. Her arms wrapped around my neck, then her body was jerking as she sobbed, tears flowing down her cheeks. She embraced me even tighter, still attempting to catch her breath.

  “I got you,” I whispered in her hair.

  “I got you, too,” she hiccuped through tears.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Juliet

  Sardines had more room than I had in the hallway. We stood outside the small room where Rage was being attended to. I knew Rage’s left eye was in need of several stitches.

  Sweat coated my body from the heat of all the people and the adrenaline that still coursed through my veins. I fiddled with my hands as I nervously waited for Rage to make his way out.

  I was sure the boys in the club have some celebrating to do. I overheard conversations; they had made a small fortune on this fight.

  I couldn’t lie to myself any longer. I could no longer deny my feelings for Rage. It was like a slap in my face. I’d been pushing down my feelings since the first night he played his harmonica for me, when we almost kissed, but they just kept on growing. I held my breath for so long during his fight, I thought I was going to blackout. When he won, overwhelming relief washed over me.

  I was losing the battle to stop myself from giving in to him completely. The moment his lips met mine in front of the whole arena, that made me realize that not only do I care for Rage, but I, too, deserve happiness. Rage made me happy, happier than I had felt in years. I still had some time left here before I had to get Paige, before I disappear. I would no longer deny myself the pleasure of caring about Rage or being in his arms. As long as he didn’t know what’s going on, as long as I didn’t tell him the truth, he wouldn’t be at risk.

  He would be fine when I leave. He was a biker. Bikers didn’t get involved in long-term relationships, anyway. They had club women around to always keep them content. He and I would be fine. We were both adults. We had survived before without each other, we could do it again. One day at a time. Maybe Marco would die, and I would be free. Fate could be kind, too, couldn’t it?

  My thoughts were disrupted by the woman who tried to bust into the room where Rage was getting fixed up. Her flaming red curls were sprayed tight, her makeup was heavy but perfect. She wore a tight black catsuit with knee-high boots, showing off her every curve.

  She attempted to pass Hawk, who guarded the room, his hand clasped around her wrist, stopping her. “Leann, you are not going back there.”

  Wait a second. That was the bitch from the picnic. So, Leann was the mystery woman.

  “But my man is hurt, and I need to help him,” she whined.

  Excuse me? Her man? Now it was my turn to fume. Hawk must have noticed how loud she was being. His head towered over her and found me. My fists balled at my sides, fire shot out my nose as I huffed. My body became tight and stiff.

  She spoke again, this time in a sing-song southern accent, “But Hawk…”

  “Go the fuck away. You shouldn’t even be here. Who the fuck let you come?”

  “I got one of the prospects,” she said with a devilish grin, licking her lips and batting her fake lashes.

  My blood boiled, remembering her lips on Rage. My body began to move before I even realized I was taking steps, squeezing my way through people.

  “Oh, fuck.” Hawk rolled his eyes as he watched me approaching, then Rage’s door began to open.

  I froze for a second, taking in his swollen face, stitched eye, and bandaged ribs. The dark curls on the top of his head were now ringing wet and falling over his forehead. Gingerly, he took two steps out the room.

  Leann pushed past Hawk and grabbed Rage’s hand. “Oh, baby.” She raised her hand to his face, but before she could touch him, my hand grabbed hers.

  I ground down on my jaw and squeezed Leann’s wrist. “Baby,” I repeated, pushing her arm down, “I don’t think so.”

  I didn’t know what the hell possession took over my body. I was usually passive, not aggressive. But I grabbed her hair and yanked her back.

  “Oh, my God! Bitch, get off!” she screamed, struggling against my hold. With her hair still firmly in my hand, I turned her to face me, my eyes even with hers. Slowly and clearly, I said, “Don’t ever put your fucking dirty hands on my man again, or I will rip every fake red hair right out of your head.”

  I gave her another hard yank, which caused her to lose her balance and fall to her knees. I shoved past and gently put my arms around Rage, the pain on his face was replaced by a stupid smile. Even in five-inch heels standing on tiptoes, I found it hard to reach his lips. He leaned down, and with lips locked and eyes wide open, it was my turn to claim him. All the noise and people faded away. We were the only two standing there, for just a moment.

  Rage

  Everything in my body ached as I sat in the small room, waiting to have my eye stitched and ribs wrapped. The young Army medic shuffled in with a black bag in hand.

  “Rage, nice to meet you. I’m Derek, and I will be fixing you up.” He extended his hand and I extended mine. He was as big as any of the fighters here tonight.

  “That was quite a show you put on,” he said, turning my face to inspect my eye. The raw wound throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the cracked rib, which made it hurt to breathe.

  “Looks like you need at least fifteen stitches.” He pulled a fluid-filled needle from the bag, tapping the vial a few times. Oh, fuck. I hated needles. I’d broken more bones than I could count over the years, pushing them back into place was never fun, but the tiniest needle freaked me out.

  “This may sting, but in a few minutes, it will be numb. I will wrap your ribs while it works.” He turned his head to examine the already purpling area. I stared at the very long silver point making its way to my eye. I held my breath for a second so Derek wouldn’t know what a pussy I was as he inserted it in the split flesh.

  As he cleaned the wounds with a saturated cotton ball, I asked him a few questions about his station and military life. Listening to his story reminded me of Donovan. I never shared his story with anyone; I kept that pain to myself.

  I remained still, not giving away an inkling of the searing ache that tore through my abdomen as he tightened the wrap. After he was done with the last stitch, snipping the end, he shot off several instructions and gave me a few pain pills.

  “Thanks, for the handy work.” I nodded, as I looked in a mirror at my perfectly wrapped rib cage and the clean, neat stitching.

  “My pleasure. Keep the sutures clean and you should have minimal scarring.”

  Derek exited the room, leaving the door wide enough for me to see and hear the group waiting for me, but I only wanted one face. One small step at a time, I dragged myself to the door. It swung wide open. Hawk turned and grinned, seeing me approach.

  A squealing voice carried above the rest, “I want to see my man.” That sure as shit was not the voice of my angel. What the fuck? Leann? She was trying to push her way past Hawk when a very angry-looking Juliet beeli
ned to Leann. And as Leann reached out for me, Juliet was there to stop her.

  Holy shit. I couldn’t help but smile when she grabbed Leann by the hair and told her whose man I was. I had repeatedly explained to Leann for the last two weeks, we were done. The girl had her head on twisted.

  After dropping Leann to her knees, Juliet pressed against me to give me the hottest claiming kiss, letting everyone know we were together. My need to claim her with more than my mouth shot blood straight to my shorts. Our eyes never left each other.

  Juliet

  The ride back to Sugar Maple seemed twice as long as it did to get there. We stopped for takeout, which Rage devoured in seconds. Hawk didn’t mind dropping us off at my cabin after I promised to care for his best friend. Ivy fell asleep mid-sentence, leaning her head on Hawk as he drove. I appreciated Hawk taking off his jacket at a traffic light to cover Ivy with it. I guessed we were both taking care of each other’s best friends.

  I had to keep Lord from jumping on Rage as we made our way inside. I took him straight to my bedroom. Handling his battered body with care, I gently took control, removing his clothes one item at a time until only his shorts were left. I was careful not to touch his tightly wrapped ribs where I could see violet and red showing up below the bandages, all the way down to his hip bone. He tried not to make a noise when I lightly grazed several areas as I pulled the tank over his head.

  Inspecting his stitches, I pushed back the curls that covered his forehead, careful not to touch his eye. One eye had many stitches, and the other was a shade of lilac that was growing darker by the minute. I leaned over him as softly as possible and touched my lips to the injuries on his face. A small lump formed in my throat, my eyes blurred as they fought back the tears that were threatening to spill. I swallowed hard, and my chest clenched when the images of tonight’s fight flashed through my mind. I turned on one of our favorite playlists, letting the music fill the space, giving me the courage to take what I wanted.