Lucifer: Hades Riders MC

by Belle Winters

  Lucifer

  (Hades Riders MC)

  By

  Belle Winters

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Copyright © 2016 Shannon Jackson. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version 2016.11.20

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Introduction

  She ruined my life.

  I didn’t love her, not one bit. In fact, I didn’t even like her. She was a bitch, a hassle, a fucking thorn in my side. She was good though I’d give her that. She didn’t show me who she truly was at first, she kept it hidden until she got what she wanted from me.

  I gave up everything for her even though I never had resented anyone more in my life. If I was anything though, I wasn’t a fucking coward. I had to grow a backbone at an early age otherwise I wouldn’t have survived. I was smart though, had all my ducks in a row. I was always strong, but despite all the strength that I built up over my younger years I was smarter. I was beating all the odds. I had a bright future despite my circumstances; I was destined for big things.

  I mean come on, a fucking orphan living in a shit group home. I built up my body to protect myself in more ways than you could imagine. I had me a job to make sure I had clothes on my back and food in my stomach and I had straight A’s. I was also on the football team and had my choice of the fucking litter with colleges breathing down my back. I was floating high while keeping my nose in the books. Then she happened… so fucking beautiful and sweet. I lost my virginity to her at the ripe age of 17 – I didn’t really have time for bitches – and I thought that maybe… just maybe the boy that was born and was worth nothing would have a chance at everything. Love, life, success… the American dream.

  Then it happened, and she changed. My sweet, sweet Nancy wasn’t at all fucking sweet. In fact, she was very fucking calculating and manipulating. She saw my future and she saw my vulnerability. She didn’t see me though… no she didn’t. She fucking trapped me on purpose, and when she dropped the bomb on me that she was pregnant my world exploded.

  I pleaded with her to consider all of our options and what does she do? She tells me to man the fuck up. I will be using all my future football money to keep her well-kept and I couldn’t say no because of the child she was carrying. She just knew I was her meal ticket, and the holes she poked in the condoms cemented our future. She didn’t know I didn’t have a family or a real home. She knew I worked and because I kept myself decent assumed that I had something to fall back on. She didn’t know I was struggling to keep myself together. It wasn’t exactly public knowledge and I preferred it that way.

  When I explained my situation to her she shunned me in disgust. I picked up an extra job to save up some extra money and eventually my grades slipped. By the time she was hitting the third trimester I knew that I wasn’t even close to having enough money and I was borderline failing. My football was also falling through the cracks. I was a mess and I was breaking down. Eventually I said to hell with it all and dropped out of school for a third job. I saw my life slip through my fingers day by fucking day. By the time she figured out I no longer had a future with football she told me that she wouldn’t let a loser deadbeat be a part of her child’s life. I wasn’t going to agree with that, fuck no. Especially not after all of the sacrifices I’ve made. I would never want a child to go through half the shit that I did, especially not one of mine.

  She cut off all ties with me, and the next I heard was she had a new boyfriend. Some douche in college who was a freshman. She was pregnant as hell but was still able to snag her a potential basketball player. Unfortunate for her, he was immature and reckless… exactly her type. She went to party with him and he got wasted. He crashed head first into a tree going way over the speed limit. All three of them died.

  I’m standing over the bitches’ grave and I hate her. I fucking hate her… and yet I owe her something. Something very valuable.

  She taught me to never trust a bitch, and never put them first.

  I looked at her grave one last time and spit on it. I turned over to the smaller headstone next to hers, the one I used all the money I saved up to let my son rest in peace. They removed him from that bitches body and I had a separate burial for him. He didn’t even get to live because he had two pieces of shit for parents. I was torn from the inside out at my loss. That was the only fucking family I had – or was going to have – and he was taken before I could even meet him.

  My hand unconsciously flirted to the scar on my chest and I let a tear of heartbreak roll free. “I love you son.” I said and turned to walk away.

  My life was changed… and I was considered a full-blown failure and loser for everything I fucking lost in the course of a few months. I was now 18 and my days in the home were limited to a few more. I would be out in the world alone, with no one and nowhere to go. I went back and packed. Fuck this, there’s no point in waiting for the inevitable, right? I just needed to grow some balls and do something worth fucking while with myself.

  Chapter 1

  I looked in the mirror at myself in disgust. I’m 24 years old and my life… it well sucks. It’s 10:30pm and I’m getting ready to leave work. This is typical for me. I get into the office at 7 and I’m here until I can’t keep my eyes open. What makes it worse is that while I aspire to be a fashion designer; becoming the next Vera Wang hadn’t proven to be easy. I was working as an assistant doing all the grunt work for Alexander McQueen. Of course, not him directly, but for one of the higher up people that help transform his ideas into silky, beautiful, reality. The job was demanding indeed, but it was my toe into the world so I didn’t complain or fuss. I just got the job done and collapsed in bed every night. Anyway, I have absolutely no social life which I guess I should be used to but every time the thought crosses my mind it kind of depresses me.

  When I got home I saw that the light on my house phone was blinking. I frowned, how odd? I mean seriously… its 2015! No one actually uses house phones anymore let alone leave voicemails. The only reason people still had them is because it was cheaper to have the cable, internet, and phone bundles from the providers. I walked over to the phone and hit play and instantly cringed.

  “Abelie… Its 9:00 and I am here at your place but you’re not here. Where are you? Please call me when you are home.” My father’s voice echoed through the house.

  I sighed, I was 24 and still on my dad’s leash. People always said that I should be grateful for him, that I was crazy to complain about anything. He put me in all the best schools, bought me all the best things… he indulged in my dreams and kept me with all the sketchbooks, mannequins, fabrics, etc. to my heart’s content. Hell, he was even paying for my apartment and sending me monthly allowances. Sounds like every persons dream right? Well, of course no life is perfect.

  My dad has always kept me on a tight leash. I’ve never had a boyfriend,
at least to his knowledge. I only have had 2 and that must’ve been the hardest feat in my life. Neither lasted long because it was too difficult to try to maneuver and I didn’t feel I should have to constantly reassure a guy their life was safe while being around me. My father was well known and respected which is why most guys were afraid to look at me. He owned some successful businesses throughout the city and he was doing very well for himself. Not to mention he was a big Italian man whose sheer size was intimidating. I didn’t blame them. He had connections with all types of people, and well calling in a favor for just about anything was never an issue. Nonetheless I never feared him as he has always treated me like a princess. The most he would do is add a little base to his voice so I know he means business and tried to get across the message no means no, like discussing having a boyfriend per se. It didn’t stop there either. I was allowed friends but my curfews were strict and I almost always had to have one of his designated chaperones. If I wanted to do anything I would have to shake them and there would be hell to pay and real punishment after.

  I picked up my cellphone and huffed as I scrolled through my phone for his number. He could’ve called me on my cell, but he calls the house phone to see where I am. Obviously if I answer then I am home. I’ve kept from him my late hours knowing he wouldn’t approve. It took some major kicking and screaming to let him loosen his reigns for me to be able to get a place on my own and leave behind his security. Knowing that I was wandering the city streets alone after 10… well I wouldn’t be surprised if he threw me across his shoulder and carried me back home.

  “Hi dad.” I said in greeting when he answered.

  He grunted. “Where were you? It was late and you weren’t home.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, I ran out for food. You don’t want me to starve now do you?” I asked. I crossed my fingers hoping that he would let it go.

  He sighed. “I’m sorry princess but you know I worry about you. How are things going?” He asked.

  “They’re good. Work is great…” I told him honestly.

  “But…?” he asked.

  How do I tell my dad for the millionth time that I wanted to be able to have a social life like any other grown female? “It’s nothing; just a bit tired is all.” I relented, now wasn’t the time to beg plus with my down mood it’ll only make me more bitter.

  “How about you come visit your old man for lunch tomorrow?” he asked.

  I smiled. The one thing I was grateful for with my job is the flexibility. It was demanding as all hell, but really… I didn’t ask for much, so when I asked to cut out a couple of hours once a month or so to catch up with my dad they didn’t bat a lash.

  “Sure daddy! At your office?” I asked.

  “Yes, be here at 1…” his voice sounded funny.

  “Ok. Is everything alright?” I asked.

  A deep sigh. “Yea baby girl, don’t worry about anything. Just make sure you’re here, ok?”

  I frowned; this was not like him at all. “Of course, I’ll be there. I’ll see you tomorrow dad. Love you.”

  “I love you too Abee.” He said softly before hanging up.

  I cradled the phone for a minute trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong. All I could draw was a blank, he was always adamant about me not having to worry about anything and it worked. If he was ever having issues I never knew, he never let it show around me. Despite his overprotectiveness, he was a great father. My mother had died during child birth so it’s just been me and pa. I know that he’s seen other woman but kept them far away from me. I had a nanny but when he wasn’t working and was home he was with me.

  I was grateful of that. Of course, my dad had friends and they had kids which I would be around during gatherings and such and I knew the difference between my life and most people like us. Rich people like my dad hired nannies and they were the parent. The kids were snooty and bratty all the while just begging for some attention, where my father showered me with it. I remember when I twisted my ankle in the school play yard and he got to the school before the ambulance and took me into the hospital. Then made them keep me for 2 days to ensure that it was only a sprang and nothing more serious. He stayed there in that room with me the entire time. I knew he loved me.

  I went to heat up some leftovers, lasagna I made. And can you guess who taught me this recipe and pretty much most of the ones I knew? Yep, my dad. Ok fine, maybe I’m just as attached to him as he is to me.

  When the food was warm I gathered it up and took it into the living room with me and picked up my sketch pad. I had been working on a dress for the past three days and I’m trying to make this one different. I’ve been designing a lot of my own clothes for years now, but to me they held something the same. I really wanted to expand and try new and exciting things. My items while a bit eclectic were always bright and cheery, girly. I know that if I want to make it out there then I needed to be able to connect with all types of people. I don’t want to be contained to a certain group of people… I want people everywhere to be able to shop through my stuff and find something perfect for them.

  I ate my lasagna as I stared at the partial drawing. Before I knew it, I was done eating and I was still just staring. Finally, my eyes grew heavy and I yawned and sighed in disappointment. Not a single idea – good or bad – popped into my head. My shoulders slumped and I dragged myself to my bed. I’ve been lacking inspiration lately and it sucked major butt. If I couldn’t keep up my momentum how the heck did I expect to actually be something? I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind and passed out to sleep.

  I was wearing one of my latest creations. It was a pink skirt suit with a silk silver shirt; the top had a pink bow in the front. I can’t take credit for the silver Jimmy Choo’s on my feet, I don’t design shoes. Glenda – dad’s assistant – was typing away at her desk. When she heard me coming, her head popped up and she smiled.

  “Good afternoon Ms. Bianchi.” She greeted me.

  “Hello Glenda, and please don’t call me that… I am not my dad. Abelie or Abee is just fine.” I told her.

  She chuckled and I knew she wouldn’t listen. I try every time but she refuses to call me by my first name. “Sure dear. Your dad is expecting you, go on in.”

  I thanked her and made my way to my dad’s office. I walked in without knocking and found my burly father sitting behind his desk. He was looking down at some papers totally oblivious to my entrance. “Hey dad.” I said as I plopped down in a chair across from his desk.

  He looked up and smiled. “Hey princess.” His eyes looked over my outfit and he gestured to it with a pen. “One of yours?” he asked.

  I nodded; he could always spot my work which brings me back to my issue. They were too similar too predictable. “It is do you like it?”

  He nodded. “I love it!” he beamed.

  I rolled my eyes. “You always say that…” I crossed my arms.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Because I love everything you do. Are you ready for lunch?” he asked. He is the perfect example of why you should never use your parent’s opinions as law. They’ll tell you what they feel their obligated to say as your parent. How the heck could you trust it?

  “Sure, where are we going?” I asked.

  “Only to your favorite place baby…” he started and I squealed.

  See the thing is this isn’t my favorite place as he calls it, but they serve a meal I am absolutely crazy for. They make the best spaghetti and meatballs in the city – well except mine – and I never turn up the chance.

  “I can definitely go for some spaghetti!” I said happily.

  My father stared at me for a beat with a slight frown on his face and I was reminded of yesterday’s conversation. Something was definitely bothering him, and it was starting to really bother me too. When I raised my eyebrows in question, he shook his head as if clearing his thoughts and got up retrieving his suit coat and walked towards me.

  “Let’s go.” He said.

  I sat back in my c
hair and rubbed my stomach. I was stuffed and that meal was awesome! We spent lunch catching up on our day to day lives. He told me about the three new businesses he was opening and I told him about work, how much I loved it, and of course of my issues with designing. He was encouraging and told me that I would break through, I’m only struggling because it’s something new… it’ll come to me. Like I said, parents have a way of saying exactly what you need to hear. Whether they truly believe it or not is yet to be seen.

  My dad gave me a weary look and gave me a sigh and groan, and I’m sure he could see my curiosity playing out on my face. He scrubbed a hand across his face and suddenly it looked like my father aged ten years. His eyes caught up to something behind me and his body tensed. His eyes ping-ponged between me and whatever caught his attention and he let out a long breath. Mine however, was lodged in my throat.

  “Princess, there’s something I need to tell you…” he trailed off.

  I was so, so damn scared. I had no idea what could have my father so on edge like this. He was always so calm, cool, and collective. “What is it daddy? What happened?” I asked reaching out a shaking hand to cover his on the table.

  “Darling, something has come up and I need you to do as I say.”

  My throat felt dry as all heck but I still managed to swallow. “Please daddy, please just tell me!”

  He cleared his throat and that’s when it hit me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on attention. A shadow fell on the table from behind me and I was afraid for my life to turn around. Then the scent hit me, something I’ve never smelled before… smoke, leather, and just man. My stomach involuntarily clenched and my grip on my father tightened. I was afraid and yet… I was just a bit curious and turned on which was more than weird for me. It was a new and frightening experience and I couldn’t handle this new flood of emotions.

  “Bianchi.” A deep raspy voice said behind me. I was so tempted to turn around and see what was causing all of this emotion but I didn’t have the courage.