Page 39 of Soul

“You might think we’re bad. But imagine if that was Maci. Your daughter kidnapped, raped, abused, and tortured to death. Tell me you wouldn’t want the blood of the men who’d done that to her. And I’d call bullshit. Or Ham. What if he was put in a fighting ring with other little boys his age for the entertainment of the rich? Given weapons to kill and maim, and the winner gets his ass fucked by those attending who literally fuck him till he succumbs. My clubs seen that, Bryony, and we prevent that.”

“I wasn’t aware,” Bryony whispered.

“My chapter doesn’t do drugs, gun running, or trafficking. We stop it. If our other chapters do any of that, we ask it’s not run in our territory. Yes, we do illegal stuff, but we fuckin’ look after our community and ensure people here walk the streets safely. And if they don’t, we get vengeance for them. And let me tell you, when I face someone whose soul is so black they’d hurt kids and teenagers, I make them feel every bit of pain possible.”

Bryony blanched but nodded. I could see she was thinking shit over.

“We built the new playground, the community centre and supplied it, supplied equipment for the schools and hospitals. My club does a lot for the people, and if some bad guys who wanna harm people and be less than decent die, who gives a fuck?”

Bryony remained silent, and I’d nothing else to say to her. I didn’t want her to run, and I certainly wanted to get to know her better. But she needed to understand what we were. Great men doing bad shit so others breathe freely.

“I’ll leave so you can think it over, but remember, the offer to meet the members is there and is genuine. I won’t discuss their abilities, but they might. Let me know,” I said and walked out. It was in her hands now.

???

Aura stared at me, puzzled. His frown deepened as he looked around the room and then back at me.

“What?” I asked.

I’d arrived at the clubhouse with Lila, and she was chatting shit with some of my brothers and sisters. They all liked her, which meant I could enjoy her being here.

“You have a golden thread, like Seeker and Craft and Iona and Warden. You found your anchor?” Aura questioned, and Undertaker straightened at the side of him.

“Stop looking at me and take your shot,” I said, nodding at the pool table.

“Soul? Did you?” Undertaker demanded. “Fuck, you appear calmer, and I’m not getting the normal waves of hurt off you.”

He wasn’t wrong. There was a mild, irritating pain, but nothing like my usual agony.

“Yes. I found her,” I replied.

“Prez,” Undertaker bellowed, and I sighed and leant on my pool cue.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” Undertaker snapped.

“What?” Warden asked, approaching with Iona.

“Fucknut here knows his anchor and hasn’t told anyone,” Undertaker tattled.

I raised an eyebrow at how quickly the Veep spilled the beans.

“Jesus,” I muttered.

“This true, Soul?” Warden boomed.

“Yes, but I didn’t find out until earlier.”

“I don’t understand,” Warden said.

“It’s my neighbour, the one with the psychic kids. She’s struggling with everything, and I know she was looking to move,” I explained.

“What does it mean if she does?” Warden asked.

“Storm thinks the bond will remain, but it won’t be as strong. I’ll suffer some pain, but not as bad as what I have been. Even with distance, it’ll protect me from the worst, but not all of it,” I replied.

“I don’t like that idea. Soul, you gotta convince her to stay,” Warden ordered.

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