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He spied Chatter talking to Rooster and Chaser. Big Al barely hid a sneer as Hound marched past, dragging a woman by her hair. She was in for a rough time, but Lulu let him keep treating her like shit.
Zeus blew his load into Patsy’s mouth and shoved her brutally away as he zipped himself up. Fuck, the man didn’t even clean himself. Mind you; he’d have another whore go down on him within half an hour. He supposed that counted as a type of cleaning.
Big Al noticed Whiskey standing in a corner, furiously discussing something. Whiskey was gesturing wildly, and their brother Saint was nodding. Big Al made a note to check in with them. He was relieved to see those he and Chance had recruited weren’t indulging in this fuck fest. Spider had a bitch bent over the pool table and was openly banging her. King was fuckin’ another over the couch in the ass, ignoring her squeals of pain. Twelve months was all it took for Zeus to destroy the club he and the other founders had built.
Big Al despised the little fucker the moment he set foot on Hellfire land. He’d raised his concerns and been overruled by everyone else, including Enigma. Big Al had seen this as a betrayal. Over time, Zeus started making moves. Before Hellfire realised shit was going south, Enigma was dead, as was Bullet, Jawbones and Slash. Four of the five founding members were deceased, and Big Al barely escaped with his own life. Thanks to Chance, he’d survived.
Big Al had been at home, a small apartment, when he’d heard soft footsteps. When he turned, Slash’s son Cutter was behind him. Cutter was aptly named because the little cunt liked to mess people up with a knife and lunged for Big Al without warning. The blade took Big Al straight through the shoulder, and Cutter got two more moves in before falling unconscious at Big Al’s feet. Behind him stood Chance. The boy was pale, and with him were Bear and Chaser.
“They’ve taken out the other three founders. As soon as we heard, we came for you. Move Big Al; I’ve got Whiskey on the backdoor. Bear, grab that fucker. It’s time we hit back,” Chance ordered, and Big Al gazed at the kid he thought of as his own. Fuck saved by a group of teenagers, a man his age. It was shameful.
Cutter died screaming for his ma and pissing himself. Chance entered the clubhouse while church was in motion and threw the bloodied patch on the table. Grimly holding everyone’s shocked stare, Chance informed them all that the cunt who’d attacked a founder was dead, and he was searching for the others. Zeus had gone to war with Chance right there and ordered a vote and won. Chance was sixteen. No way would Chance have won.
Chance accepted it, but everyone saw the promise in Chance’s eyes.
Quietly, Chance told them all that this was his dad’s club. Zeus may hold president for now, but it was Chance’s legacy. And as such, Chance demanded VP. Possibly it was guilt or some remaining loyalty because Chance won that vote, and that was the day Hellfire split. Chance promised to obey his president within reason and began gathering his own men. We were still working on it. Chance had some originals on his team: Saint, Whiskey, Chaser, Sunny, and Animal. And with the men he was recruiting, Big Al knew the teenager was already planning for long-term action.
By now, Zeus had half the club hooked on free pussy, drugs, booze, and the mentality of thinking they could just take. One by one, they fell for the intoxicating mix of power and pleasure.
He’d even won a fuckin’ vote against Big Al when Big Al challenged for president six months ago but couldn’t remove him from the Inner Circle. Big Al’s role was written into the charter they signed and shed blood for. Zeus tried, and even those in his pocket had baulked. Big Al knew Zeus was blackmailing the brothers that supported him and longed to put a bullet through his head. But Zeus was ready for that. He had seen the warning signs in Big Al’s eyes. Zeus ensured he always kept three of his cronies around.
He’d get him; Big Al was waiting for his moment. Big Al would silently back Chance and watch the kid until it was time. Then the real Hellfire would make their move.
January 8th1990.
Big Al stood in the rain as Bear raced towards him. Big Al’s head was ducked down, and he held Chance firmly in his grip.
He’d waited for Chance to arrive and then dropped the news. Chance began to struggle immediately as Big Al wrapped him up. It was a terrible announcement, and his heart broke as Chance raised his head just as Bear slammed into him. Big Al saw the desolation in their eyes. Big Al was holding Chance so tight it was a wonder Chance could breathe.
Chance’s arm lifted slowly, and he stepped back, taking a long breath. Big Al motioned to his truck.
“We need to reach Drake,” Big Al murmured, shoving Chance into the rear.
Chance stiffened in horror at being in the back of a vehicle. Bear and Rooster appeared from nowhere. Rooster snatched the front seat. Big Al could feel the inner struggle deep within Chance, which broke his heart. Chance was doing everything possible not to cry and keep his iron-clad control.
“How did it happen? Drake said Arrow was improving,” Chance spoke loud enough for Big Al to hear.
“Dunno, man, just received the call from Axel,” Big Al replied.
“Who has Drake?” Chance demanded.
“Axel.”
“Drake won’t get Rage. He’s five years younger than me. They won’t let Drake have Rage at fifteen,” Chance ground out.
“No, Texas should be next in line or Axel,” Big Al said.
“Drake has poison in Rage, same as us. Bulldog will win the vote. Fury will side with him, Axel with Texas, but Texas doesn’t want president and Axel is happy as Chaplin,” Chance muttered.
“One of them will get it. Whether they choose it or not,” Big Al tried to soothe Chance but realised he was failing.
“Put Celt on it and contact Apache. I want the rumour that Arrow was whacked, chased. Need to explain to Drake the crap that’s about to encompass Rage. You and I know, Bulldog gonna get the vote, and Bulldog is Zeus cloned,” Chance announced.
Big Al knew that, but he hoped that somehow Rage would end up different.
Three years later.
“Fuck this,” Big Al yelled, walking into his apartment. Chance and the others gazed up at him in silent agreement.
