Chaotic Anger: The Seven MC Book 1

by Breck, A. R.

  They follow behind me as I walk up the stairs. Ivy quietly talks to Lilah as we walk to my room. I give them their minute. The last hour has been scary as hell.

  Opening the door to my room, I turn on the light and walk straight to the bathroom. I wash my hands and splash water on my face in an attempt at cooling down the rage boiling inside of me. It does nothing. Looking at my face in the mirror, the new bags underneath my eyes only infuriate me further. Dealing with this shit with Santiago over the last couple years has taken its toll, but the last couple days has been taken to an entirely different level. This guy doesn’t stand a chance, and I can’t wait to rip him limb from limb.

  “Mommy, I’m not tired. I don’t want to take a nap. I want to play still.”

  “Maybe in a little bit. Let’s find something fun to do in here.” Ivy says as I walk back into the room.

  “So, I’ve got to head out for a little bit.” I say from the doorway. Ivy jumps and spins around, the nervous look filling her face again.

  “Do you have to?” She wrings her hands in front of her stomach. Her hair is a mess, her blonde waves dusted brown from the dirt, her outfit also a disaster, stretched out full of dirt and dust. I grind my jaw together in disgust, because even when she’s as hot of a mess as she is right now, she’s still somehow fucking beautiful. And she shouldn’t be. Not to me, not to anyone. But she is, and this possessiveness that I’ve never experienced before seems to be coming out full force when it comes to Ivy.

  “Yeah. I’ll be back in a little while. And I’ll send someone to bring you guys some stuff. Food, stuff to do…”

  “I’m not hungry.” She grimaces as she presses her hand to her stomach.

  I nod. “You understand why you guys have to stay up here, right? I don’t want you guys to have to see…”

  “I get it. Just please, come back soon?” She pleads, her big blue eyes glowing in the late morning sun.

  I nod.

  Silence ensues, and I’m not sure what I should do. Should I say something else? Maybe I should go give her a hug? I don’t fucking know, but there’s a pull in my chest keeping me anchored in this room. Anchored to her.

  “See you soon.” I yank that anchor off the ground and storm from the room. I don’t want to understand these feelings. I want to throw them through the window and watch them explode just as Ivy’s friend did. This feeling inside of me says I shouldn’t leave makes me sick. I’m a man that loves his bike and loves his club. There’s no more love or feeling left to give.

  But the moment Ivy came into my life, it seems my life is full of chaos.

  I storm down the stairs and out the door. I pull my phone from my pocket, shooting a text to Charlie to bring Violet to the store. Ivy and Lilah aren’t going anywhere soon, and they need more than one outfit. The guys are already outside, strapped, and ready to go. Everyone is on their bikes and look positively pissed off.

  “Ready? They can’t be too far. Let’s go find those fuckers.” Pascal growls over the roar of his bike.

  “Thank you, guys. For helping with Ivy. I know you guys don’t know her and you didn’t have to protect her.”

  West comes over and pats my cheek. “We can all see that she’s not just another Jessie to you, Z. You’re catching feelings quicker than you’re catching Santiago’s men.” He cackles as he hops on his bike.

  “Fuck off, I am not.” I flick him off.

  “Son, it’s not a bad thing to like her. She seems like a good kid. Makes me a little relieved, actually. It tells me we’re not just a bunch of bastards that only think with our cocks. Means you’ve got a soul somewhere in that angry fucking heart of yours.”

  My face screws up at his words. What, now they’re all going to think I’m a big fat pussy with feelings? I spit on the ground to rid the bitter taste in my mouth.

  I hop on my bike and turn it on. Glancing up at my bedroom window, I see a wave of blonde hair flowing away from the window. I shake my head, sliding a cigarette out of my pocket as rev my way out of the gate.

  I know I’m not going to find Santiago. He’s too smart to be anywhere in the state of California right now. But some of his men are, and I hope he realizes we’re about to find every one of them and skin them alive.

  I ride behind my dad, his long dark hair flowing in the wind against his back. He’s a prideful man. He is one of the best men I know, because he’s not someone that holds grudges, and his heart is the size of fucking Texas. You wrong him, your head will be off before you even realize he’s done it. But if you’re on his good side, he’s one of the best men on this planet. He’s here to lead a pack, and he’s here to make a difference.

  We’re riding to go find whoever dropped Alexia off. There’s no way in hell she walked all the way here from Tijuana. Someone brought her here. We’re going to find them, we’re going to interrogate them, and then we’ll butcher them.

  We’ve got men at the border, so they’d be stupid to try and cross over today. They’re somewhere in our territory, and we’ll find them.

  We drive into the afternoon, searching on various roads and back alleyways until we pull up near a broken and beaten down motel called Pocum Inn. Except the P and the O are burnt out on the sign, so now it reads Cum Inn. I hear a snicker behind me and can only imagine its Niles or Cassius laughing like a couple teenage boys.

  We wouldn’t have even stopped at this dump, but the two conspicuous vehicles parked on the side of the building. I’ve seen vehicles exactly like this after the border at Santiago’s compound. My dad looks over at me and I nod towards the cars. We all turn off our bikes and move to the opposite side of the building. We’re in a tricky area, and I can only assume they did this on purpose. Although we’re just outside of San Diego, we’re still close enough that there’s traffic around. We won’t be able to light this place on fire and get away without the cops being called.

  But they’re also fucking stupid. Because they’re on our territory, and in most instances, people are just going to turn a blind eye when they see our cuts and bikes rolling down the street. But not everyone is like that. We’ve got some sticklers and definitely some cops that would love to skin our asses.

  “What’s the plan?” West says as he walks up to me.

  I like up another cigarette and pass one to my pops. “I say we go in there and decapitate their asses.” I shrug, like I ordered a fucking burger off the menu. There’s really no question. We’re walking in there and we’re walking out, but they’re not.

  “Well, hold the fuck on. We’re not going to go shoot up the place. They chose the back side of the Inn, clearly putting us at a disadvantage. We can’t drive by. We can’t shoot up the place.” My dad says, pulling his hair back into a pony at the base of his head.

  I pull my knife out of my ankle strap. “I don’t need a gun.”

  Pascal laughs. “Well, the longer we stand here the more fucked we are. Z, go in there. We’ll be behind you.”

  I nod, flicking my cigarette off and stomping towards the door on the side of the building. A large retaining wall blocks me from the road, which actually might put me at an advantage because now I can bust in there without anyone seeing me.

  I walk up to the door that has a Do Not Disturb sign on it. The blinds are shut and the ashtray outside has a still-burning cigarette sitting inside it.

  I can feel the guys standing behind me, their anger exuding from them and making my back heat. Without another thought, I raise my foot and slam it into the door. The weak, old frame of the Cum Inn busts without any protest, flying off its hinges and slamming against the opposite wall.

  “¡Mierda!”

  A group of Hispanic men spring away from the bed. One man stays where he is, hunched over the bed with his bare ass hanging over the top of his jeans. His ass flexes then relaxes over and over again as he thrusts up against the bed.

  “Stay where you are!” The order booms out of me and shakes the walls surrounding us. The man on the bed stops mid-thrust, his dark, hairy ass t
ensed and twitching. His arms slowly raise, and the other men around him have their weapons pointed in our direction.

  “Drop your weapons.” I seeth.

  One of them spits at my feet. “¡Vete a la mierda!”

  “Turn around.” I ignore the spitting man, knowing I’m going to spill his blood soon. I’ll rub his face into his loogie at my feet. Fucker.

  The man with the disgusting ass slowly turns around, his cock still hard as he turns around and lets it wave in our direction.

  I never noticed the girl below him. At first, I think it’s a prostitute, but then I see the terrified look on her face as she attempts to cover herself. She has a black strip of tape over her mouth and more is banded around her wrists, keeping her at their mercy.

  “Shit.” I sigh, nodding my head at Niles. He rushes over to the girl and cuts the tape around her wrists. He tears the tape off her mouth, and she starts sobbing and speaking in Spanish. She is topless and has slices all over her breast and stomach. The skirt she was wearing is bunched around her waist and blood streaks the inside of her thighs.

  Sick fucks. The girl looks to be maybe sixteen years old.

  “Put your fucking dick away you disgusting fuck!” Pascal barks, waving his pistol in the man’s direction.

  “Where is Santiago?” I ask once the man has tucked his junk away.

  One man on the right with a gun pointed at my head starts barking at me and waiving the gun in my direction. The only word I can make out is El Jefe.

  My dad steps up with his gun and silencer attachment. “How did you find my clubhouse?”

  They start barking in Spanish again and I realize this might be a lost cause.

  “I don’t think they speak any English, Z.” Cassius says from behind me.

  “Let me see.” I walk up to the man who was raping the girl and plunge my knife into his chin. Blood pours down my knife and onto my wrist. His friends start erupting in anger. One of them cocks the gun back and Cassius goes over to him, disarming him and snapping his neck with his hands. The man falls to the ground.

  There’s three other guys. One of them fires their gun that’s pointed at West. I rush him and tackle him from the side. He fires off the gun again and the bullet hits the lamp, exploding the old-fashioned piece into a million shards that fly around the room.

  I bat the gun out of his hand and slam my knife down onto his wrist, blade first. Then I slam it down again, cutting through the last tendons. The man screams out in horror as his hand separates from his wrist. I grab onto the mans opened jaw and shove his amputated hand into his mouth, letting him choke on his own fingers. He starts gagging around his dirty digits.

  One of the other guys is running towards the bathroom door. West leaps over the bed in one jump, reaching the man before he can barricade himself in the bathroom. He plunges his own knife into the man’s lower back, instantly paralyzing him. The man drops like a pile of bricks and starts hollering in agony. West pulls the knife out and stabs him again, then again, then again. He stabs him repeatedly along his spine until his face is covered in sweat and the man below him is lifeless, drowning in a pool of his own blood.

  My dad has been fighting with the last guy, but quickly ends it by putting a silent bullet right between his eyes. The older guys aren’t into the gore. My dad would prefer to leave less mess on him and the crime scene.

  I like the mess.

  I like having them writhe in pain. I sleep better at night knowing they died in even an inkling of pain of what they caused to these girls.

  The man below me is almost passed out. I’d like to bring him back with me and torture him a little more.

  He mumbles a few words around his fingers, and I watch him, waiting for him give in to the darkness.

  He mumbles the same incoherent words again.

  I yank his hand out of his mouth. “What the fuck are you saying?” I bark at him.

  “Ella es su.” He groans, and he smirks with his bloody teeth shining at me.

  I elbow him in the cheek. “Don’t fuck with me. What the fuck did you say?”

  “Ella es su.” He coughs, blood spurting out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin. “Ivy es el Jefe’s.”

  My nostrils flare and I can feel my face flame. Rage burns through me as I slam my elbow down into his nose. I can feel is turn to mush as blood pours out of it. He is passed out now, but that doesn’t stop me from reaching into his mouth and pulling his tongue out. I slice it off with one quick swipe, the thick muscle not in any way a good defense against my sharp knife. You breathe on my knife badly and you’ll get sliced. This thing has been sharpened to its sharpest point. With the thick muscle in my hand, I tuck it into my pocket. I watch as his tongueless mouth fills with blood and chokes him. He wakes up, already drowning and aspirating. I watch as he stares at me in fear, staring at him with dead features.

  Leaning down next to his ear, I growl, “She’s mine.”

  His eyes dim as he chokes one last time, the blood splashing against my face before his head lulls to the side.

  The silence in the room grows. The only sound is our heavy breathing and the girl in the corner of the room weeping in terror.

  “Get her transported to New Mexico.” I say to Niles. He has the sheet off the bed and wrapped around her to cover her up. He nods as he grabs his phone to coordinate transport.

  I turn to everyone else. “You guys good?”

  “Got fucking glass in my leg.” Cassius lifts up his jeans to show a huge shard of glass sticking out of his calf. He pulls it out, and blood starts dripping down his leg.

  “Get back. That shit has to be patched up.” Over the years, Haley has become an unlicensed doctor of sorts. She can’t do any massive surgeries, but she’s stitched up enough of our skin that she can probably do that shit with her eyes closed.

  “Son, we’ve got to get out of here before people start sniffing around.” My dad says, coming up and wiping blood off his forehead.

  “We leaving it like this?” I look around, looking at the blood splatter all over the floor and the walls. The lamp that literally exploded all over the room. The dead bodies. It looks like a scene from the movie Saw.

  My dad shrugs. “The cops will think it’s a cartel issue. And if Santiago’s men find these guys first, well, then they’ll no we’re not playing anymore.” He pulls a cloth out of his back pocket and wipes down the door handle on his way out. “Let’s go.”

  We follow him out, mount our bikes and ride silently back home.

  I can’t help but think about Ivy. It’s past dark now. I’m sure she’s sleeping. I wonder if she’s feeling as torn as I am. About everything. About us.

  But is there even an us? What the fuck would us even be? She’s been with me a few days now. Not nearly enough time to feel whatever the hell it is I’m feeling in my chest. I’m disgusted with myself. It makes me feel weak.

  Sage, one of the prospects, opens the gate and nods as we head inside. Niles said Charlie was heading down to pick up the girl and bring her over to New Mexico.

  “We’ll decide on what we’re doing next when we talk tomorrow.” My dad says with his back to everyone as he heads to the bar.

  Everyone heads off, probably going to get drunk, high, and fuck a Jessie until they can’t see straight. I’m usually part of that group, and when I pass Max on my way to the stairs, my usual Jessie, she gives me a shocked, then angry as fuck look.

  “Aziel, where are you going?” She hops off the couch and struts over to me in her heels and jean shorts that have slices in the barely-there fabric, showing off the rest of the ass that her shorts are supposed to conceal.

  “I’m going to sleep, Maximillian.” I use her full name to emphasis how much I’m literally not in the mood.

  “Can I come?” She steps up to the stair below me, pressing her hand to the top of my thigh. Her pinky finger dances right next to my cock, and I can’t help the grimace that fills my face.

  “Not tonight.” I bat her hand away.
>
  She frowns, then scowls at me. “I hear there’s some sex trafficked girl sleeping in your room. Is that where you’re going? To stick your dick in her overused pussy?”

  “No, Max. I’m going to sleep. Just like I fucking said.” I take a step away from her.

  “I’ll suck your dick extra good tonight.” She follows me up another stair, grabbing onto my hand and pulling it up to her mouth. She grips my pointer finger, wrapping her tongue around it and giving it the suck of her life. She’s the type of girl that’ll make any man, even married, drop to their knees. She’s fucking banging as hell, sexy body and great in bed. But right now, as I stare at her suck my finger into her mouth like it’s a golden fucking popsicle, I can’t get my dick to be even slightly interested.

  “No, Max.” I pull my finger out of her mouth. She bites it a little bit on the end. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. “I guess the sex trafficking whore gave it up pretty quickly, didn’t she?”

  My hand goes around her neck before I even question what I’m doing. I lift her off the ground, and she claws at my hands as her face turns purple.

  “Yo, dude! What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Aziel!”

  I drop her on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. “She hasn’t given it up, but if she did, I imagine it’d be a hell of a lot better than your rancid ass pussy.” I turn around to leave when I think better of it. Turning around, I growl, “Call her a whore again, and I’ll cut your tits off and feed them to the mountain lions.”

  She pales, scrambling back as everyone else looks at me in shock from behind her.

  “Uhh. Fuck.” I turn around and rush up the stairs. I’m not usually someone who puts his hands on a girl. Not usually—never. But the rage I felt when she talked about Ivy like that.

  Shit, my fists clench just thinking about it.

  I make my way to my door, and as quietly as possible, I crack it open and slip inside. I haven’t been home, to my real house, in almost a week. I have a couple pairs of clothes here, but I’m going to have to go home sooner or later.