Heart Of Steel (Satan's Savages MC #1)

by K E Osborn

  “That guy’s a fucking psycho, Steel. No wonder you wanted to look him up. Whatever you have planned… I’m in.”

  I nod taking a deep breath trying to settle the queasiness in my stomach. Seeing Jackson having to go through that has really unsettled me. No kid should have to watch that sort of shit go down.

  Standing up, I gather myself. “I’m gonna round up more men to help. Can you get everythin’ ready to ride to his house?”

  Techie nods and I turn not waiting for a second longer. Tyrell needs to pay, and I can’t wait to serve up this dish. Storming out of Techie’s room, I stride out into the clubroom and see everyone I need.

  “Lookout, Behemoth, Jigsaw… assembly room, now!” I demand and they all look up furrowing their brows, obviously wondering what’s going down. Pushing the heavy wooden doors open with a thud as they hit the wall behind them, I walk inside and wait for my brothers to join me. They congregate with Techie, and I take a seat at the table. They all take their places and I take a deep breath trying to calm myself before speaking to them.

  “Okay. There’s a fucktard. Tyrell Jones. Married to Nikita. Father of Jackson. This man’s a fuckin’ wife-basher and he does it all in front of his kid. Now, it’s not just a little slap here and there, this is kickin’ and fuckin’ punchin’. The woman has dark skin, but her bruises are so black they stand out even on her tone. This man is scum, and I want to teach him a lesson or two. I need some support, the more numbers I have, the more fucked up he’ll be. But… this is off book. Mad Dog doesn’t know about it, and it’s not club sanctioned. So you’ll be goin’ on VP orders and not the Prez’s. If anyone doesn’t want to join me, the time to leave is now. No questions asked…” I pause and wait for them to get up and leave. Instead, they all look at me and nod.

  Smiling at the mateship my brothers have for me, I stand and nod. “Let’s get this fucker then.” Walking out of the assembly room, my brothers flank me and we all head out of the clubhouse toward our bikes. Techie tells us the address, and we leap on our bikes and start the engines. Techie slides into his black ops van, and we head out the gates ready to light a fire up this fuckbrain’s arse.

  Techie, through whatever means he has, found out Tyrell wouldn’t be home. So that’s where we head. We set up down the street and Techie has hacked into the house security cameras and is shutting them all down as we speak.

  “Right, they’ve gone dark,” he says showing me his tablet with the security footage of fuzzy screens.

  “My turn,” Lookout adds picking up a burner phone and dialling Tyrell’s mobile number. “Hi, Mr. Jones? Yes, it’s Frederick from Clarke Security here. Just a courtesy call to inform you that there’s been a technical glitch with your security and the system has failed. We’ll have a team around to fix it within twenty-four hours.” Lookout pulls the phone from his ear and Tyrell’s voice echoes from the speaker as he yells, “Twenty-four fucking hours? That’s a God damned joke. You guys are fucking ridiculous. Don’t bother sending a team, I’m going to fix the damn system myself, you lazy good-for-nothing fuckers.” The line goes dead and we all smile knowing our plan worked successfully. Tyrell’s an arsehole and we were counting on him being impatient and wanting to fix the issue himself. We had a feeling he’d want to come home as soon as he found out things were not perfect at his home.

  Could the dumb-fucking-arse play right into our hands any better?

  I glimpse up at Lookout who smirks at me and I purse my lips. “Frederick?” I ask

  Lookout furrows his brows as the others chuckle. “What? It’s a good strong name.”

  I raise my eyebrows and nod. “Ah-huh.”

  Everyone chuckles as Lookout looks around at us. “What? It’s strong like Bruce and Tristan and Reginald. They are all very strong male names.”

  Everyone chuckles at Lookout and I shake my head. “Right, let’s get to work.”

  “Motherfuckers making fun of me? Stupid bitches,” Lookout mumbles under his breath as we all get ready. After knowing that Tyrell was heading home, we make our way to his house and let ourselves in. Making ourselves at home in the big expanse of his dining room, I walk around looking thinking how empty it feels, not like a home at all. There’s no pictures, not even of Jackson, and not even any knickknacks or vases on the cabinets. It’s all stark and bland and I bet it’s all Tyrell’s doing. I hate this place, just being in here gives me the shits.

  “Car pulling in the drive. Positions,” Techie says as he sits at the dining table on his notebook hacking into Tyrell’s accounts.

  Lookout stands by the front door and Jigsaw on the other side. Behemoth to the side as I stand inside the dining room waiting for Tyrell to walk in. Techie stays at the table deep in work. The front door clicks open and Tyrell is mumbling to himself as he marches in. The guy looks like a douche with his fake suit and his bald shiny ridiculous head. His tiny weeny thin moustache goatee makes me cringe at how much of a wannabee this guy really is. He looks up to see me standing in his dining room with my arms folded across my chest.

  “Surprise, fucker.”

  He stops dead in his tracks and opens his eyes wide while he goes to grab something. Lookout jumps from behind him and latches onto his arms pulling them behind his back. Behemoth closes the front door.

  “What the fuck?” Tyrell yells. Jigsaw comes around from other side and punches him right in the jaw, he groans out in pain and his knees give way, the sight making me smile wide.

  “Who the hell are you?” he murmurs.

  “We’re here to seek vengeance,” I say as Lookout drags him toward me. “It’s not fuckin’ right to pick on your wife while your four-year-old watches on.”

  Tyrell tenses as he kneels on the floor and shakes his head. “Nikita put you up to this? That bitch is going to pay.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “No fuckhead, you’re the one who’s going to pay! Behemoth take over from Lookout. Lookout, go outside and keep watch.” I’m sending Lookout away not only because we need eyes outside, but also because I’m envisioning blood—lots of it—and we all know how well Lookout does with blood.

  Behemoth comes over and grabs Tyrell, and Lookout scurries off outside.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Tyrell asks and I smirk.

  “It’s not me you need to worry about… Jigsaw.” I call him over and he smiles and looks right at Tyrell pulling out a set of brass knuckles from his jean’s pocket. I chuckle slightly because I didn’t even know he had them with him, and it thrills me to know he has.

  “No, no, please. I’ll do anything—”

  “Don’t beg, it’s pathetic,” I say and nod to Jigsaw. He places the knuckles on his fingers and clenches his fist.

  “Bones, collagen, calcium, carbonate… breakable.”

  “What? Tyrell asks and Jigsaw smiles and brings his fist up and slams it into his nose.

  The cracking sound of sinus severing echoes through the room making Techie look up briefly, but then back down again as he continues to type. Blood spurts out Tyrell’s nose as he yelps out in pain. Jigsaw pulls back and his fist connects with his eye socket this time. His eyebrow splits apart, and blood oozes down his face pooling at his chin as he starts to hunch over in Behemoth’s arms.

  Jigsaw turns, looking at me with the biggest smile on his face. I chuckle and shake my head at him. He steps aside and I move forward grabbing Tyrell’s chin and lifting it up, so his chest and stomach is open wide. I grin and bring my leg up and side kick him right in his guts. He lets out a harsh breath and hunches over as the blood pools on the floor. I’m loving this. Not so much the violence, but the fact that this fucker is getting a taste of his own fucking medicine!

  “I’ve gotten into his offshore bank accounts and I’m transferring all his money to Nikita,” Techie calls out.

  Tyrell groans and shakes his head. “No.”

  “Yes! This is what happens when you mess with women fuckhead,” I say and punch him in his other eye socket. The sting of his eye bone hi
tting my knuckles reverbs through my hand, but I shake it off and laugh as we destroy this man’s life.

  Jigsaw steps up again and punches Tyrell’s jaw and it cracks so loud I cringe and then he moans out in severe agony. I look at his jaw and it’s displaced to one side. I chuckle slightly and pat Jigsaw on the back.

  “I think you broke it, killer.”

  He smiles wide and nods like he’s proud of himself.

  “All the cash has been transferred. The sex tapes of him with underage girls have been leaked via social media, too,” Techie tells me.

  I laugh as Tyrell groans and moans only staying upright because Behemoth is holding him by the scruff of the neck. I had no idea about the underage girls, but Techie is the best, and he finds anything and everything.

  Now that we’ve messed him up well and truly, I have every intention of letting him go. He has no money, his career is ruined, his reputation is in the gutter, and to top it off he’s in a world of pain. Our job here is done.

  I lean in next to Tyrell’s ear. “If you ever, and I mean ever, go near Jackson or Nikita again we will be back, and we won’t be so lenient next time. If you send anyone after us, we will kill you.” I pull out Wesley from the back of my jeans and drag the tip along the edge of his sternum to give him a final scare.

  Suddenly, the door swings open and Lookout comes barrelling in behind Behemoth. “There’s cop’s circling the area…” He stops in his tracks, looking down at Tyrell and all the blood, and he starts to sway on the spot. “Fucking cock up my motherfucking arse. Catch me fucker.”

  I tense up as Lookout passes out. It’s like slow motion as he falls forward onto Behemoth, which makes him fall forward with Tyrell pushing him straight down onto my knife. The pull of the muscles and flesh tense against the knife as he falls on top of me while Wesley pierces straight through his heart.

  I’m on the floor, Tyrell’s on top of me, Behemoth is on top of Tyrell, and Lookout is on top of Behemoth.

  “Fuckin’ hell!” I call out as Tyrell gurgles and moans out his lasts breaths on top of me, blood oozing from his chest all over my clothes.

  Jigsaw pulls Lookout off and onto the floor as Behemoth stands up. I push Tyrell off me as he rolls onto his back on the floor with Wesley hanging out of his chest.

  “Shit! Fuck! Crap! Balls! I didn’t mean to kill the fucker!”

  “Death is only silence,” Jigsaw says and I shake my head at him

  That little piece of enlightenment didn’t help at all.

  A squirt of blood splashes from Tyrell’s chest as Jigsaw pulls Wesley out and hands it to me.

  “We better get out of here,” I huff and wipe the blade on my jeans and place it back in its holder. Behemoth bends down picking up Lookout, and Jigsaw snatches up Tyrell, and we all walk out to the bikes and van. The thump of Lookout and Tyrell’s bodies resonates through me, so I check around to make sure no one is watching as they’re placed in the rear of the van to go back with Techie. Behemoth pushes Lookout’s bike up and into the back of the van also.

  “Techie when you get back to the club make sure to leave traces sayin’ Tyrell has fucked off somewhere because of the embarrassment he brought upon himself, and that he’s left everythin’ to his wife and child as repentance. Make it sound legit. I don’t care what you do just do somethin’” I say and he nods and leaps into the van.

  Picking up my phone, I message Ryder about cleanup duties and give him the address. “You guys better go in case those cops circle back. I’ll stay here until the cleaners come. Jigsaw make a puzzle, and put the pieces in acid and get Ryder to take the present to the usual spot. Make sure the cleaners run a Luminol test over the area. Otherwise, the blame might shift to his wife for the disappearance of this dickwad.”

  He nods. Behemoth, Jigsaw and Techie all leave, with Lookout and Tyrell in the back of the van leaving me covered in blood in a bloodstained house with cops circling.

  This is bad.

  Very bad.

  How did it go so wrong?

  Now a kid is fatherless.

  Not just any kid—Jackson.

  But then again, I guess he’s better off without an arsehole like Tyrell in his life.

  The pungent smell of bleach is burning my senses as the cleanup crew are doing their thing in the dining room of Tyrell’s house. I know them, they work for us. They’ll do their job and there will be no evidence of anything left in this room after testing is done.

  “Steel, you should go. Leave this to us,” Miranda tells me and I nod.

  The thing about the cleanup crew is they’re so clean cut, you’d never suspect them to be working for bikers. So if anyone walked in on them cleaning up, you’d think they’re typical cleaners going about routine tasks. That’s why we hire them. Plus, they keep their traps shut.

  “Okay, thanks, Miranda. Let Techie know when you’re done and he’ll turn the security cameras back on.”

  She nods and I exhale and turn walking out of the house and back down the road toward my bike. Looking down at my blood stained clothes, I probably should have given my shirt to Techie to take in the van, but riding without a shirt would cause more suspicion than riding with one. Plus, if I hunch slightly passersby probably won’t see the blood. I’ll have to take my chances, I have no other choice.

  Putting on my lid and hopping onto my Hog, I start the engine and hammer down. I need to feel the breeze over my body and the energy between my legs. I let loose and accelerate down the street making it out onto the highway at lightning velocity. The vibration of the motor brings a smile as the wind flicks against my face, almost stinging I’m riding so fast.

  The expanse of the clubhouse pulls into view, and I take in a relaxing breath knowing I’ve made it back without being pulled over. Although, if the heat tried to tail me I would have made a run for it anyway. Gatekeeper pulls open the massive corrugated iron and mesh gate, it squeals and moans as I pull through and ride up to my spot.

  Turning off my engine and parking my bike, I run my hand through my hair as I pull off my lid. I want to make sure Jigsaw is taking care of our little problem, and that it’s without Dad’s knowledge. I know he was heading out today, so I’m pretty sure he won’t be here, which makes life a hell of a lot fucking easier.

  Cassius greets me in his usual happy manner wagging his tail. “Hey boy, I missed you too.” Leaning down, I pet him as I amble toward the clubhouse door. He cuddles into my leg as I walk, and it’s nice to have a bit of normality in this crazy fucked up day. My thoughts turn to Willow and what she’d think of what went down. She wouldn’t like this one bit. The fact that I killed a man today? I know that wouldn’t sit well with her. It would probably scare her to death, even though it was a complete accident.

  I can’t tell her, no matter what.

  Pulling back the weighty black door, I wander inside the clubhouse. It’s sparse with minimal people inside. Knucklehead is at the bar and he looks me up and down as I walk past him.

  “Rough day?” he asks with a slight chuckle.

  I scoff. “You have no idea! D’ya know where Jigsaw is?”

  He nods toward the basement and smirks. “In the Chop Shop.”

  My feet feel heavy as I drag them down toward the basement. Shuffling down the stairs, I can hear the machinery in action. I hate the thought of what I’m about to walk into, but it’s how shit goes down at this club and it’s how Jigsaw works—I need to respect that. Jigsaw comes into view with one foot on the bench, and he’s running the Jigsaw power tool through the middle of it. I cringe as he cuts through the body part, then drops the two halves into the vat of acid below.

  Jigsaw switches off the power tool and I relax knowing I won’t have to witness any more of that fucked up shit today. I don’t think I could stomach it, honestly. “You all done in here then?” I ask.

  He looks up at me smiling, his face is covered with a plastic shield which is splattered with God knows what. He lifts it up and nods.

  “Ja… the final cut brin
gs with it ease.”

  I raise my eyebrow wondering what the hell he’s on about and he smiles widely and pulls off the shield and throws it on the bench. He wipes his thick black gloves on his butcher’s apron and then pulls them off as I turn around and climb up the stairs. All I needed to know was if everything is going to plan. It is. I certainly don’t need to see the rest of the final gift wrapping.

  What I do need is a beer or something to take this edge off. I need to relax and then have a shower. Making it back out into the clubhouse, I tramp over to the bar and sit down on a stool. Resting my elbows on the bar, I tap it and Knucklehead nods and starts pouring. A faint echo of hushed voices reverberates across from the other side of the room. I turn to see FIM and Doug seemingly in a heated discussion. Furrowing my eyebrows, I turn back to Knucklehead and tilt my head in their direction.

  “What’s up with the wonder twins?”

  He shakes his head pursing his lips. “I have no idea. They’ve been arguing for like half an hour.”

  I turn back to them and bring my fingers to my lips and whistle loudly. They both turn to look at me and open their eyes wide like they didn’t even know I’d come in.

  “Oi, you two. What the fuck’s wrong?” They look at me and then down to my shirt and cut where the blood stains mark them. They stare and walk over, then sit down one either side of me and shake their heads.

  “No, nothing. Looks like you’ve had a rough day?” FIM says.

  I look down to the douche’s blood all over me and shrug. “All in a day’s work.”

  “Anything you wanna share? Like, get off your chest?” Doug asks and FIM groans. I have a feeling this is what they were arguing about.

  “No, I’m good. I’m not really one for sharin’ my feelin’s and shit. Thanks, though, girlfriend,” I tease and FIM chuckles.

  “See, I told you.”

  Doug sticks his finger up at his brother and huffs like an errant child.

  Shaking my head, I frown at them. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Oh, Doug here thinks now we’ve been here a few days, we should know what’s happening in the club. What everyone’s doing? I told him we’re prospects and we have to earn that right,” FIM says. I look at Doug, who’s now folding in on himself cowering like a little fucking girl.