Page 2 of Hellbent Hero


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I grunted again. Theo had only spoken two words to me in the courtroom: Be silent.

Storm sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t be an asshole, Hero. I’m your president. What fuck is wrong with you?”

Pissing off Storm wouldn’t end well for me. I just wasn’t interested in idle fucking chit-chat. But I needed his resources and support to implement the plan I’d concocted to take out the enforcer while locked up. Not only that, I didn’t want to be cut out of the club for going off half-cocked after the arms run. He hadn’t given me shit about needing to get lost for a while, but it was better to be prepared for Storm’s wrath. He was unpredictable and had yet to give me hell over not protecting his woman.

I inhaled, noting his jaw twitching. Storm wasn’t a patient man. Better get on with it. “The weed was planted on me. I was drunk and got mouthy. Here I am. But all is not lost. The Hunter’s enforcer is in here too.” I exhaled a heavy breath. “I’d call it a lucky break.”

It was as if he could read my thoughts. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Storm leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Under his cut, he had on a black long-sleeved shirt, scrunched up to his elbows. His massive forearms were on full display, along with his wedding band. Another pang pierced my heart as envy burned through it like acid eating through my flesh.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe. But I’m here, and he deserves to pay.” More than pay. That motherfucker deserved to die. By my hand.

Storm scratched his chin. “We’ll make sure he does, brother. The club. Not you solo.”

“I’ll make sure he does.” Before the week was over. “But I need help.”

“Really?” Storm’s hand slammed on the table, making Theo jump in his seat. “You know the club would’ve handled it. You’re hellbent on seeking retribution. That’s good. But there’s a way to go about it without getting life in prison. You’re my SAA. I fuckin’ need you.”

I watched the lawyer. He didn’t seem at all fazed by our conversation. Probably used to hearing about the club’s less than stellar, law-abiding ways. And witnessing Storm’s short temper. Hell, the whole club was used to our volatile Prez. He’d calmed,some,after Madeline entered the picture. His moods weren’t so erratic anymore. She was good for Storm, better than good. She was his perfect match.

Storm sat forward in his chair. “Where have you been all month?” His presence was larger than life. It filled up every inch of space within a ten-mile radius. I respected the hell out of him, wished I was more like him. But I wasn’t.

“Took a road trip to California.” I shifted in my chair as his gray depths narrowed and darkened.

“For what?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

This was where I needed to be honest with my Prez. If I lied and he found out the truth, I’d be dead. Storm didn’t tolerate lying. I’d never cross that line with him. When I left, I had no plan. No destination. I’d just needed to ride my hog on the open road and get lost for a while. It was no surprise the wind had guided me back to my demons in Cali. “Hitting up my old stomping grounds.”

Storm shook his head. The tension radiating off him made the air crackle and pop like a building thunderstorm. “Motherfucker, if you bring any trouble to the club’s doorstep,” he growled, “I’ll put a bullet between your goddamn eyes.” He wasn’t joking or being a dick. Storm never made empty threats. The club was his life, but he was married now and expecting a baby. I couldn’t fault him for wanting to keep his family and the club safe.

Storm had what I’d had years ago, but I’d lost it all in one night. I was sure he’d do a better job protecting his family than I had.

Fuck. I’d let his old lady get taken by the Hunters. Angel was humiliated and assaulted, along with my Roja.

Enough. Tara isn’t yours. You only want her to be.

I stared back at Storm like a dumbfuck, unsure of what else to say. Neither of us usually talked much. When we hung out in the bar drinking with our brothers, Storm and I sat back and listened while the rest bullshitted. Track, Lynx, and Boxer were the life of the party. They were worse than the club’s kittens, all chatty and shit, laughing and snorting at their own stupid jokes.

My brothers and I were quite a mixture of extroverts and introverts. We all had a dark side. Pasts littered with shit you wouldn’t find in Mayberry. Some, like Storm and I, had blood on our hands. Others were damaged from childhood abuse, like Ire and Grizzly. The only brother I might callnormalwas Boxer. He hadn’t killed anyone before joining the Marines. Came from an okay family. Except my brother walked around with a hole in his heart the size of Lake Superior.

“Did you get your revenge?” Storm’s question jerked me out of my thoughts. “Is there going to be a warrant for your arrest in California? Any blowback?” Storm looked tired as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He should’ve been on his honeymoon with his wife, not in county lockup dealing with me.

“I tried. The place has changed…” I dragged my hand over my cheek, fucking tired ofeverything. Instead of getting revenge on the fuckers who’d murdered my wife and baby, I’d reverted back to my old ways of dealing with shit. Booze and drugs. I’d indulged in the poisons for a week straight. Once an addict, always an addict… Miraculously, I’d somehow pulled myself out of the darkness before I drowned in white powder.

Before leaving LA, I’d visited their graves, leaving a bouquet of gardenias and a toy motorcycle at Monica’s headstone. I’d been in a self-deprecating place. Shame and feelings of worthlessness were a deadly combination. In the cemetery, I’d cried like a baby, asking for forgiveness and promising to love her forever—only her.

Going back to the West Coast had done more harm than good. It fucked me up all over again. The progress I’d made over the years seemingly vanished as I’d rode by all the places Monica and I used to frequent. My breaking point happened at Huntington Beach, Monica’s favorite place to go every Sunday. All the memories and dreams we’d once had pulled me down like a fierce undertow, slamming me into the ocean’s floor. Beating and raking me over coral reefs as I drowned in my own agony.

Storm cleared his throat. “Hero?”

“I had to try, you know? I need some kind of retribution. It’s why I need to take out—” I paused, cutting my eyes at the dude in the suit.

“I know, brother. I know.” He elbowed Theo. “Get on with it so I can have a few minutes alone with him before our time’s up.”

I pretty much drowned out the lawyer’s monotonous voice. He said I should be out within thirty days, provided I stayed out of trouble. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not. Tara probably hated me after I took off the way I had following our sexfest.

The door closed after Theo left the visitation room. Storm and I stared each other in the eyes for a long, painful minute.

I hated that I’d let him down. Let the club down. Hated that I couldn’t stop thinking about Roja, wondering what she’d been doing the past month. Had she thought of me at all? Missed me? Regretted letting me into her addictive pussy?

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