Satan’s Fury MC - Memphis

by Wilder, L.

  It was after eleven when she came knocking at my door, still wearing her homecoming dress, but now it was wrinkled and hanging off her shoulder. She’d been crying, and a thick line of black mascara had run down her cheek. “I fucked up, Clay … like really, really fucked up.”

  “What the fuck, Lyssa.” I took her by the arm and pulled her into my room, then closed the door behind her. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “First, I need you to promise that you won’t say anything.” She looked up at me with her big, puppy-dog eyes filled with tears and pleaded. “This has to stay between us.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that I shouldn’t agree?”

  “Just promise me, Clay,” she insisted. “I’m not saying another word until you do.”

  “Fine. I promise not to say anything,” I grumbled. “Now, tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  She hesitated once again. I didn’t understand why until she started, “So, you know tonight was Homecoming, right?”

  “Yeah.” Homecoming was just another way my sister and I were different. Even though it was my senior year, I couldn’t have cared less about it, but it was the only thing Lyssa had been focused on for weeks. She was all excited that Lucas Brant, a senior and a varsity football player, had asked her not only to the dance but also to a big party afterwards. She was just a sophomore, so going with a senior was a huge deal—at least it was to her. Having no idea what had made her so upset, I asked, “What about it?”

  “Well, the dance and all was fine,” Lyssa’s breaths became short and strained as she tried to explain, “until everything got all screwed up at the party at Janey Kay’s house.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “It’s hard to explain … Everyone was there. I’d never seen so many people, and they were all dancing and drinking.”

  “And what about you? Were you drinking?”

  Her eyes dropped to the ground as she answered, “Yeah, I was. I didn’t want to be the only one who wasn’t joining in, you know?”

  “I get it.”

  “Anyway, I had a couple of beers, but Lucas … he drank quite a lot.” She inhaled a pained breath before adding, “Much more than I realized.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s not all his fault, Clay. I should’ve known what he had in mind when he asked me to go upstairs with him, but I just wasn’t thinking.” She turned to look out the window and started to sob again. “I’m so stupid.”

  That familiar rage started to creep over me like a wildfire. “What. Happened!”

  “I’m trying to tell you,” she fussed.

  “No, Lyssa, you’re hemmin’ and hawin’ around. Just tell me what the hell happened!”

  “After we got upstairs, he took me into one of the bedrooms, and we started to kiss. It was nice at first, but then I could tell he wanted something more.” She turned to face me, and when I saw the anguish in her eyes, it gutted me. I had a feeling I knew exactly what had happened between her and Lucas but didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to stop her from saying the words out loud but didn’t get that chance. Tears were streaming down her face as she muttered, “I told him that I didn’t want anything else to happen, but he didn’t listen.”

  About to come unglued, I asked, “What do you mean ‘he didn’t listen’?”

  “No matter how many times I told him no, he just kept pushing.” Lyssa dropped her head into her hands, and I could barely hear her. “I should’ve never gone upstairs with him. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve known what he wanted, but I was just too stupid to see it.”

  “Stop that shit right now! None of this was your fault. This was all on him. Every damn bit of it.”

  “You’re wrong! This is just as much my fault as it is his. I never should’ve gone into that bedroom with him. I know what it means when a guy like Lucas wants to be alone with a girl, especially at a party. I knew there was a good chance that we’d be fooling around, and I think a part of me was actually hoping he’d want me like that.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “All my friends were so jealous that I was going to Homecoming with not only a senior, but with the best-looking senior in school.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me with this shit, right?”

  “Lucas could’ve asked a hundred different girls and not a single one of them would’ve given a second thought to having sex with him tonight.” I couldn’t believe my ears when she added, “I should’ve been happy that someone like him would even choose to be with me.”

  “Dammit, Lyssa! That asshole fucking raped you!” As I looked down at my sister, so distraught and full of heartache, I found myself thinking about a conversation I’d had with my father. He was truck driver, and it was tough on him being away from home all the time. Knowing he couldn’t do it himself, he’d asked me to look after my mother and sister, to protect them in a way that he couldn’t. It was up to me to fix this thing, so I didn’t resist when the rage rose to the surface and took over as I grabbed my keys off the dresser. I stormed towards the door and told her, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  “Clay, stop!” she pleaded and rushed over to me. “Don’t you get it? No one can find out about this. If they do, it’ll ruin me!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You know how people can be … how they twist things around and shift the blame.” She ran her hand through her disheveled hair and continued, “No matter how it really played out, everyone will think it was my fault … that I brought it on myself. I don’t think I could handle that.”

  “So, you’re just going to let this asshole get away with raping you?”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, sis.” I took a minute to consider everything she’d said, and even though I knew there was some truth in it, there was no way in hell I could let Lucas Brant get away with what he’d done to my sister. No matter what she said, there was no way I was going to let this go. I couldn’t. I took a step towards her and pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly as I whispered, “I’m going to take care of this, Lyssa.”

  “But …”

  “Don’t worry. No one will ever know what happened,” I assured her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  I held her a moment longer, then turned and left the room. I heard her calling my name, but I continued out the front door and towards my truck. In a matter of minutes I was on my way to Janey Kay’s house, and all I could think about was that dickhead’s hands on my little sister while she pleaded with him to stop. The thought sickened me, making me want to rip him apart limb from limb.

  When I pulled up, the party was still going strong. The music was blaring as I started up the steps of the two-story colonial home. There were tall white columns along the front porch and an overdone flowered wreath on the front door. As soon as I stepped inside, I couldn’t help but grimace at the mess: beer cans and bottles strewn all over the place, tables and chairs turned over, and drunken teenagers wobbling around in an inebriated state as they tried to keep themselves from falling. Several were completely blistered, but I didn’t give a fuck about any of them. There was only one person on my mind—Lucas Brant.

  When I spotted Michael, one of Brant’s friends, walking in my direction, I charged towards him, then grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and twisted it in my fist. “Where’s Brant?”

  “What the fuck, man?” he scowled.

  “Gonna ask one more time.” I gave him a hard shove, pinning him up against the wall. “Where the hell is he?”

  “Last time I saw him, he was out back by the fire.”

  I released my hold on him, then turned and stormed through the living room. When I walked out the back door, I spotted Lucas standing by the fire, bullshitting with several of the other guys on the football team. I was filled with so much blinding rage as I headed towards him that everyone else faded from my sight. Without giving him a chance to prepare for my attack, I g
rabbed him by the shoulder, whipped him around to face me, and then plowed my fist into his jaw. He started to stumble back, so I grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and punched him again and again. With a thud, he landed on the ground, and I took the opportunity to pin him down with my knees. Once I was sure he couldn’t budge, I started in on him again. A couple of his buddies tried to get me off him, but their efforts were all in vain. Nothing was going to stop me from making Brant pay for putting his fucking hands on my sister. Determined to make a lasting impression, I kept hammering away at him. It wasn’t long before Lucas’s entire face was bloody, bruised, and swollen, and he was barely conscious. Sensing he was about to blackout, I wrapped my hands around his throat, gripping him tightly as I leaned forward and placed my mouth close to his ear.

  My voice was low and ominous as I whispered, “If you breathe a word about what happened tonight between you and Alyssa, I’ll end you once and for all. You got that?”

  He managed to nod, but I didn’t remove my hands from his throat. I couldn’t. Every time I tried to let go, I’d see Lyssa’s face and the anguish in her eyes as she stood there crying in my room. I knew I should stop. I was reaching the point of no return, but I couldn’t pull myself together. The rage was just too much. I kept tightening my grip, slowly squeezing the life out of him. Thankfully, Michael lunged towards me, using all of his weight to push me off Lucas and forcing me to release my grip on him. Before I had a chance to react, several of the others jumped in to help Michael—each of them kicking and punching me wherever they could land a hit. I tried to get back up on my feet, plowing away at each of them like a crazed lunatic, but I couldn’t get my footing. There were just too many of them. With one hard blow to the jaw, my head reared back and everything went dark.

  Just as I was starting to come around, the faint sounds of police sirens were heading towards Janey’s house. I was still sprawled out on the ground by the fire as kids rushed by, scrambling to get the hell out of Dodge before the cops arrived. I knew they’d be there for me, so I tried to get to my feet, but with my head spinning, I only ended up falling on my ass. Just as I was about to try again, Michael appeared in my line of sight with two officers at his side. As he pointed in my direction, I could hear him shouting. “That’s him. That’s the guy you’re looking for.” They hardly had time to react before he started in again, “He’s the one who attacked Lucas for no fucking reason, and he nearly killed him! Lucas was barely conscious when they took him to the ER.”

  “Okay, kid. I’m gonna need you to settle down. We’ve got this,” one of the officers warned.

  The two cops started towards me, and once they approached, one of them extended his hand. As he helped me to my feet, he asked, “You got a name, son?”

  “Clay Hanson.”

  “All right, Clay. Why don’t you tell me what happened here tonight?”

  “Nothing,” I snapped.

  “Now, you and I both know that isn’t true.” He almost sounded like he was being sincere when he said, “I can’t help you unless you tell me what really went down here tonight.”

  “Already told ya … Nothing to tell.”

  “Have it your way.”

  Pissed that I refused to answer him, the cop reached behind and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He turned me around and slapped them over my wrists while reading me my rights. Once he was done, I was led over to the squad car and put inside. Just as he was shutting the door, Michael yelled, “You’re going down, Hanson!”

  When Michael said those words to me, neither of us had any idea how true they really were. I got off easy when Brant didn’t press charges, but my luck ended there. I struggled to get a grip on the anger that erupted when I went after Lucas. I couldn’t suppress the rage, the need for vengeance, and all the other intense emotions I was feeling that night. Instead, they lingered on the surface like a parasite, leaving me feeling completely exposed as it waited to rear its ugly head once again.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have to wait long for that to happen. Without ever knowing why I’d had the altercation with Lucas, my father’s semi-truck was hit by a drunk driver, and he was killed instantly. The injustice of his death seemed to bring out the worst in me, and I started on a downward spiral. I completely lost myself. I wasn’t thinking about my mother or sister. Hell, I wasn’t thinking of anyone or anything. I just sank deeper into my own madness, finding trouble at every turn: drinking, fighting, and eventually more trouble with the law.

  I was fucking up in every way possible, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Viper, my uncle and president of the Ruthless Sinners MC, decided to step in. Knowing I was making a mess of my life, he reached out to his buddy Gus, the president of Satan’s Fury, then sent me to Memphis to spend some time with the brothers at their clubhouse. He hoped that I’d find my way with them. Turns out, he was right.

  CHAPTER 1

  Prospect

  “It’s not just about knowing the brothers’ names and their position in the club. You gotta know everything about them,” Rider explained. “Their backgrounds … where they grew up, jobs they’ve had, past experiences. What their life was like before joining the club … and after—the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  Rider had been chosen by Gus to be my sponsor. It was his job to guide me through prospecting and make sure I knew everything that would be expected of me during the process. Feeling overwhelmed by what he’d just informed me, I turned to him and asked, “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t get why it matters so much. I mean, what difference does it make if I know what jobs Blaze had as a kid?”

  “It’s knowing what your family is all about,” Rider answered firmly. “Knowing that Cyrus and T-Bone were here with Gus when he first started up the Memphis chapter and how they helped him find the clubhouse and build our numbers. And knowing that when our brother Runt was killed, Shadow was the one who stepped up to the plate and saved our asses, earning our vote as the club’s new enforcer. It helps you understand where the brothers have been … where they’re going. It gives you some insight to what makes them tick.”

  “I get that, but how am I supposed to find out all this shit?”

  “You listen … not only to what they say, but what they don’t say.” Rider looked me directly in the eye. “You’ll get it. It’s just going to take time.”

  I hoped Rider was right. I wanted to think that I had what it took to earn my patch, but there were times when I wasn’t so sure. If I wanted to be considered family to these men, I had a lot of work to do, and it wasn’t going to be easy. There were over thirty members I had to learn about, all the while doing the other crazy bullshit that came along with prospecting. But I wasn’t complaining. I’d finally found the life I wanted, and I wasn’t going to let anything stand in my way. I gave Rider a slight nod and answered, “I’ll do whatever I gotta do.”

  “I know you will.” He lifted his beer. “I’ll help where I can.”

  “I’d appreciate that, brother.”

  Just as the words left my mouth, Darcy, Rider’s ol’ lady, came walking into the living room. I could still remember the first time we’d met. I’d only been in Memphis for a few days when the brothers hired her to be the garage’s custom painter. There weren’t many women who could handle working in a shop full of strong-willed bikers, but she managed it like a pro. Darcy and Rider had grown up in the same small town and had history. It didn’t take long for them to pick up where they left off, and they’d been inseparable since. Rider and I were sitting on the sofa when she walked over with a concerned expression on her face. “You know, we could go to the Smoking Gun with Murphy and the others tonight. I can hit one of Brannon’s shows another time.”

  “I’m good with going to Neil’s to see him tonight,” Rider told her. “With the crowd that’ll be at the Smoking Gun, it’s not like they’ll miss us.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to disappoint Riley.”

  “I already talked to Murphy. It’s all good, babe.”
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br />   Looking relieved, she smiled and said, “Good. I just wanted to be sure.”

  “What’s the big deal with the Smoking Gun anyway?”

  Rider turned to me as he explained, “Riley and the owner of the bar, Grady, are first cousins and best friends, and he’s having some big shindig tonight for the playoffs. I’m kind of glad we decided not to go. I wasn’t looking forward to fighting that crowd.”

  “Okay, then I guess it’s about time for us to head over to Neil’s. Brannon’s show starts at eight,” Darcy said.

  Taking our cue, Rider and I got up and followed her outside to our bikes. I waited as she got settled behind him, then we both fired up our engines and headed downtown. As we made our way towards Neil’s bar, I was feeling pretty good about things in my life, and I found myself thinking of the day Viper had come to me about leaving Nashville and staying with Satan’s Fury. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to get me out of town. I was a ticking time-bomb. Every time something didn’t go my way, I’d blow up and do something stupid—get into a fight or be laid-out drunk. When I landed myself in trouble with the law again, my mother freaked out and called Viper for help.

  I knew the second I walked out of that jailhouse and found him standing in the parking lot he was pissed. I wasn’t surprised. I’d fucked up once again, and he was the one who’d pick up the pieces so my mother wouldn’t have to.

  Once we were inside his truck, Viper turned to me with a fierce expression. “This shit has got to stop, Clay.”

  “I know.”

  “If you know, then what are you going to do about it?”