Page 100 of Hell Hath No Fury
He laughs. He stares directly at me and then throws his head back with a maniacal chuckle. The guy’s finally lost it—he’s insane. I raise an eyebrow at my president.
"Enough." Tank slams his fist onto the table, and the sound reverberates around the sparsely decorated room. There’s really nothing else in here apart from the table, a chair Snake’s sitting on, and lots of books. “It’s time to go. Get up.”
Snake doesn’t move.
“I said get up.” Prez is getting pissed now, and his whole body’s shaking with rage.
No one dares to defy him—that’s why he's the boss. Snake, though, he’s a dead man walking, and they don’t always do what’s expected of them…or maybe they do because he doesn’t get up, which is just what I thought would happen.
“Prez said on your feet,” I snarl.
“Do you know why I came here?” Snake asks while tapping the four fingers of his right hand on the table in a steady rhythm. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four.He’s too calm.
"Okay." My boss nods over to me, indicating we’re going to let Snake speak, but I’m assuming not for too long. I step back from the table and fold my heavily tattooed arms over my chest."We’ll allow you to have your say, but only because I don't have any decent pussy up at the clubhouse I want to be tapping at the moment."
I chuckle under my breath. Prez lost his wife five years ago to cancer and has been on a mission ever since to be balls deep in any willing hole the club bitches have to offer. Most of them want to get laid by him because it could be a way of becoming his next old lady, and in turn, the ruling lady in the club, but none of them are in any way equal to his late wife. I don’t think anyone ever will be. They’re just convenient fucks.
Snake starts talking, “I got greedy. My old MC were close to finding out the truth about me. I told them I had to come this way for family reasons, and I got a good recommendation out of them to join this chapter of the Jade Riders. I got away with it. They never knew."
“You got greedy here too, but this time we found out before you could leave.”
"Yes…and no." Snake stares blindly into a dark corner of the room. His mind must be elsewhere, and it's starting to freak me the fuck out. "You think this is all about me making money, don't you? You think I’ve probably sold you out to other clubs as well as the cops."
Prez steps back and folds his bulky forearms across his chest. “It sure as hell seems like it's about the money to me. No one would be willing to grass their brothers out to the cops or to anyone else unless there’s a handsome sum on offer.”
“It wasn’t like this at first. Everything was normal.”
“Normal. What the fuck are you talking about?” I shake my head.
Prez has a lot more patience than me. I'm itching to get this guy back to the dungeon and have some fun with him.
“Me and her.”
“What are you talking about?” Prez asks, his eyes flicking toward me with confusion.
“My daughter. She’s the reason for all of this, but not anymore. I know I’m going to die. Not just from what you lot are about to do to me but from the disease riddling my body—retribution for all the wrongs I’ve done. But you know what, I’m not scared. The fires of hell don’t bother me, not when I’m going to go out in a blaze of glory, destroying so many others.”
My head whips to the left at the sound of metallic clanking that echoes through the room. I bring my gun up ready to fire on anyone who might be a threat, but I instantly lower it when the shadow of a thin, feminine form materializes from the darkness, and in the dim light of the room, a battered, bruised, and naked woman is revealed.
“Shit!” Prez exclaims "What the fuck have you done, Snake?"
He's over the table, and his fists are flying into Snake's face. I don't move, though. I can't. I'm transfixed by the girl. She's hauntingly beautiful.
“Caim, call in back-up. We’re going to need it!” Prez shouts at me, and I shake my head, trying to clear the vision of the girl from my mind.
“Why?” I ask, and he nods toward the girl while pinning a half-conscious Snake to the floor with his knee.
“Because if that’s who I think it is, we’ve got a shitstorm heading our way. A violent and deadly one.”
CHAPTER TWO
Layla
Daddy told me I needed to stay quiet until he said the word ‘daughter’. It was hard with the strange men in the room. Since I was ten years old, I've only ever been around my daddy, and I’m twenty now. I don't remember much before. He told me when my mom died I lost the memories of my early years, owing to my grief, and I believe him because, well, I can’t remember anything else.
As I step out of the shadows, I am struck by the sight of the big man who is watching another man punch my daddy. I momentarily worry for all my precious books, but then I forget them in a flash when I’m drawn by the man’s eyes. They’re nearly as black as the darkness surrounding me. He sees me, and I know he immediately recognizes me for what I am—I can tell he's just like me. I can almost smell the deviance oozing out of him. I inhale deeply to allow his scent to flood my body and senses. His associate, who I think is also his boss, distracts him and orders him to call for more people. Three in the room is already too many for me. I don't want any more in here.
"No." The word feels funny coming from my mouth. It sounds eerie, given it's the first word I’ve spoken in I can’t remember how long. I'm surprised I remember how to speak. I test my tongue against the edges of my teeth before saying, "Please."
