Lucifer: Hades Riders MC Page 2
There was a head nod from my dad. “Lucifer.” My dad said in greeting and a shiver ran through my body. Who would ever go by the name Lucifer?
“We’re good here?” he asked.
My dad shook his head. “I was just getting to that…” he muttered. He met my eyes square on and my fear escalated. “Look sweetheart, I’m in some trouble. Someone is threatening harm to me and my loved ones… I can’t risk you being harmed, so I’ve asked Lucifer here to take you in and keep you protected. No one will know where you are, and you just need to stay there until this all blows over.”
My eyes stung with unshed tears. I leaned forward gripping his hand to the point of pain. “But who daddy? Who would want to hurt us?” I asked.
He gulped. “The mob.” He whispered.
Chapter 2
I twisted my key into the lock of my apartment and walked in. I’d been moving on autopilot ever since my dad dropped that bomb on me. The mob! Why the heck was he in trouble with the mob? I mean let’s be serious; the mob doesn’t even exist anymore… at least not in real life anyway. So how did this happen? I started to close the door behind me when it was blocked by heavy booted foot. Right, I forgot about this huge beast of a man behind me. Everything passed by me in a blur the past few minutes and I’d been moving on autopilot. I vaguely remember hopping on the back of a motorcycle and riding here.
I dropped my bag onto the closest table and sighed. I went into the living room and slumped down on my couch. My mind was still reeling with all that had just been dropped on me when I heard a throat clear. My head snapped up and I was met with snug, worn, blue jeans that encased huge muscular thighs. I continued my ascent to a black snug t-shirt that looked like it was ready to burst over muscle and a black leather cut. I gulped and finally looked at his face, I was in such shock all of this time that I hadn’t actually looked at what would be my… I don’t even know what to call him. His skin was like caramel and smooth. He had a goatee and there was stubble covering some of his cheeks and chin. His hair was dark, almost black in loose soft curls that went down to the nape of his neck in the back and fell just over his ears and was completely disheveled. His grey eyes were staring at me in question and the conversation with my father came into full focus.
“What?” I asked questioningly.
“Are you going to pack, we need to get going.” He said.
I frowned. Right, he said I would need to go with him and I felt my anger rise. “Where exactly?” I asked.
He let out an exasperated breath. “The clubhouse.”
Clubhouse? What was he twelve? “What clubhouse and how long are we supposed to be there?” I asked.
He growled and his nostrils flared. “For however long it takes now let’s go.”
I jumped to my feet and my hands went to my hips. “And what are you supposed to follow me to work and everything too?” I asked.
His eyebrow arched. “You won’t be leaving the club until this blows over so make sure you bring something to occupy yourself.”
I felt the steam coming out of my ears. “What do you mean I am not going to work? Yes, I am! You’re not the boss of me!” I practically screamed.
He crossed his arms around his broad chest making my attention shift to his bulging arms. Ok, I might need to calm down just a bit. He looks like he could crush me with a swat of those huge hands. Instead of offering me a response he just grunted. We stared at each other for I don’t know how long when I finally gave up. I threw my hands up in defeat and stomped to my room to pack.
When I finally emerged from my room with my bags I found him scanning my apartment with an amused look on his face. I huffed from the exertion it took to drag all my crap out. When he turned back my way he eyed my bags wearily. I sighed.
“What now?” I asked.
He pointed at my stuff. “We’re riding on a motorcycle, where do you think all that is going?” he asked.
I looked down at my three suitcases and two duffel bags. “You said you didn’t know how long.”
He grunted. “Just take a small bag and I’ll come back for the rest.”
I stomped. “Nope, not going to happen. All or nothing.”
He walked over to me and snatched up one of the duffel bags and walked out the door. I watched after him mouth gaping open at his audacity. I allowed myself five minutes of indignation before I left out behind him, not before snatching up my sketching stuff. He had secured my bag to the back of his bike and was waiting – impatiently – for me to join him. I eyed the bike warily not sure how the heck I got on this thing the first time.
He groaned. “Would you come on already girl? I got shit to do; I don’t have all day for this.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can we take a cab?” I offered.
He hopped off the bike and walked to me lifting me clear off my feet and deposited me unceremoniously onto the bike before swinging his leg over. He passed me his helmet and kicked up the stand and started the bike. I scrambled to get it on just as he started off.
“Hold onto me or you’re going to fall.” He shouted.
With shaky hands, I wrapped them around him and prayed for my life in my head. I was so going to kill my father for this. I closed my eyes for the entire ride afraid that looking would cause me to have a panic attack and I didn’t open them again until we came to a stop and sat… and he tapped on my arms that were wrapped tightly around him to let him go.
I stood – with his assistance – on shaky legs. I looked around and frowned realizing I wasn’t sure where we are. It definitely looked like the seedier part of town, and I was too absorbed in my fear of being on the bike that I didn’t think to pay attention to how far we went or open my eyes to see how to get there. I looked up at the warehouse in front of us. There were a few more bikes around but there was no one around.
He gathered my bag off the back of the bike, and walked up to the warehouse. “Why are we here?” I asked.
He didn’t bother turning around. “Clubhouse.” He said in a grunt and made his way to a door. The place looked abandoned to me and probably should stay that way. Being in this place has got to be breaking some type of city law or housing violation. I followed him inside and I couldn’t hide my shock.
On the outside the place looked like an abandoned dump, but the inside… well, someone obviously put in a lot of time and effort. The hardwood floors were sparkling and looked well kept. As we continued inside we came to an open space littered with couches, tables with chairs, and a huge bar. The back was loaded down with more alcohol than a liquor store. There were a few women around dressed scantily and I couldn’t escape the glares and scowls thrown my way. I ignored them and continued to follow after… Lucifer in wonder. I mean who names their child that?! He passed a kitchen and I could smell food cooking. There were 2 women inside by the stove with huge pots. They were so engrossed in their task that they didn’t seem to notice us. As we entered a hallway, there were doors and it looked like bedrooms, a lot of them at that. He led me to a door at the end which he used a key to unlock. He led us inside, closing and locking it behind us and I noticed a staircase. I followed him to the top and there were three doors. He opened one and gestured to me to peek inside. I was only able to catch a glimpse before he closed it back, but it was enough for me to know it was a bathroom. He walked to the right and opened a door wide and pointed inside. I went in and saw I was a bedroom. There was a bed, TV, and a dresser. The sliding door to the side could only be a closet. There was a window and not much else. The bed was made with plain black sheets. He dropped my bag down on the floor and turned to leave.
I reached out a hand to stop him and thought better of touching him. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“This… is where you’re staying. The bathroom is there, and downstairs is always locked. I have the only key for that door, and you are to stay here.”
“Like a prisoner?” I asked without thinking and he only shrugged. “What’s the other door up here?” I asked.
“My room, you only need to know where you’re sleeping and where the restroom is. I have things to do, I’ll check on you later.” With that he left the room. I could hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs and the closing and locking of the door downstairs. This was just great.
There was a towel and washrag in the closet for me which was perfect. I needed to get ready for work, and based on the loud voices, and booming music all night I would suspect that he was dead to the world after that party. I washed myself up noting that it was only his products in the bathroom. Unfortunately, my toiletries were in one of the bags that I wasn’t allowed to bring.
I dressed quickly aware that I had no idea how long it would take me to get to work from here so I could use all the time I could get. I put on one of my favorite creations because it was so comfortable – and sexy if I do say so myself – for an extra confidence boost that I really needed. It was a hot pink dress with a sweetheart neckline, and it fitted me perfectly. I paired it with the silver heels I wore yesterday. I added a swipe of my favorite lip gloss, big baby by Mac, and walked out that room like I owned the world. I took hold of the railing and before my foot could touch the first step a hand wrapped around my upper arm like a vice and hauled me back.
I was pushed back – none too gently I might add – and a huge figure loomed over me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer growled in my face.
His grip on me was gone and he had me caged against the wall. Two strong arms encased me and his shirtless torso was on full display. My eyes racked over his eight pack and my mouth grew dry. Why, oh why, did he have to be him and look the way he does? His body was made for TV or something; girls – like me – would drool over him. Hell, he could make millions just letting people take pictures of this masterpiece. The tattoo over his heart was of an angel being burned by flames. It was both tragic and somehow… poetic. It was dark, yes but the way it was done says there’s a story behind it. That was the only ink I could see on his body whatsoever, it just had to mean something. I couldn’t help but stare, and I could make out that the flames were actually words. The same ones over and over but so small that you wouldn’t notice it. John Doe.
He snapped his fingers in front of my face. “I’m talking to you…”
I blinked and looked up into his bloodshot eyes. “What?” I asked confused.
He sighed in exasperation and his arms fell to his side. He crossed his arms and fixed me with a hard stare. “What. The FUCK. Are you. Doing?” He asked.
“Going to work.” I said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I gestured to my outfit to drive the point home. His eyes followed my motion but took a hell of a longer time than necessary to make the assessment… guess it was the hangover.
“I already told you that you can’t leave here, what didn’t you get?” he asked.
I got really, really, angry. “You can’t tell me to stay here and ditch work. I need to be there or else I might lose my job! I can’t afford to just cut out on work for however long. This is my dream, surely you understand?” I said hoping that would put things in perspective for him.
“Listen, you are NOT going a goddamn place. You’re going to sit your ass here in that fucking room on the bed that I’ve taken my own damn time to make up for you and unless you have to take a piss then you’re going to be quiet and stay the fuck out of my hair and way. You got that?”
I frowned. “Who says you make the rules for me?” I asked.
“I do. Your father does. And the fact that I’m prez and I run shit here… that on top of everything says I run every fucking thing that happens in here you understood? You’re an inconvenience and are proving to be a headache and pain in my ass, but do you hear me bitching about it? No. So, suck it the fuck up and do as you’re fucking told. Don’t make me repeat myself girl, because the last thing you want is for me to show you how a boss enforces shit. Understand?”
I heard everything he said but I didn’t care. He wasn’t going to be the boss of me that’s for sure! He’s going to have to kiss some feet, pumps, and fingers for that to happen. He wants a win because he’s hungover right now? Fine. I know when to pick my fights, but this right here…. This disagreement won’t be over until the fat lady sings, and there’s none in sight.
I poked him in the chest with my finger, cringing slightly when a burst of pain shot through up to my hand. He was freaking solid. “Listen buddy, this time I’ll go sit in my dungeon but you cannot keep me confined to that room.” My chest was heaving now. He had to know that I was not going to let him just boss me around like I’m some pushover. I made sure to hold his eyes and took a step towards him closing the space so that I could appear just a little more intimidating. “I didn’t ask for this, and I will not allow you to treat me like a prisoner. I’ve done nothing and the least you could do is treat me with a little more respect here.”
He rolled his eyes and stepped back waving his hand towards my door. I stood there holding my ground and he just held my stare. We could’ve been standing like that for 5 minutes or 5 hours but he wouldn’t cave. With a huff I stomped off to my room and slammed the door closed behind me making sure to lock it. I hated him and I hated this situation.
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Three weeks. I’ve been in solitude for three whole freaking weeks and I’m going stir crazy. Lucifer has only shown his face to deposit food to me and to collect the dirty plate. I tried talking to him on numerous occasions but he wouldn’t hear me out, he doesn’t even speak to me. Not a single word or sound. He was stubborn and was proving to be exactly as his name described. And the parties… god, they went on EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. Loud voices and music proving it impossible for me to sleep. So here I was, alone, losing my mind, and tired.
That night, when he came to collect my dirty plates he didn’t run out right away. He scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “Listen, I’ve got to handle some business. I’ll be gone for a few days; I left someone in charge of bringing you food.”
“Where, who, when?” I asked all at once but he was already halfway out the door and closed it behind him. Who the heck would he possibly have to feed me while he was gone? That was pretty unnerving. Hopefully, they weren’t nearly as frustrating as him but then again he’s intimidating. I’m sure whoever it is will probably follow his instructions to a T.
The following day, Lucifer brought my breakfast and lunch to me and I didn’t even bother trying to speak to him. I knew he wouldn’t answer and my breath would be wasted. When 8pm rolled around there was a knock on my door. I took to locking it as a show of rebellion; initially he would just walk in drop off my food and leave. Now he was forced to knock and at least see the hatred in my eyes.
I took my time answering it and was surprised to find someone else there. He was a tall built man – not as big and solid as Lucifer – but he seemed more inviting. He had long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and his face was clean shaven. He reminded me very much of a pretty boy type and he gave me a boyish grin revealing two deep dimples. He was handsome for sure, but not in that rough ragged way like Lucifer. His eyes lit up at the sight of me and he didn’t look the least bit ashamed as he took his time scanning me from head to toe.
“Well I’ll be damned. I can see why he’s keeping you all to himself.” He said in way of greeting.
My eyebrow arched. “Who are you?” I asked.
His smile widened. “May I?” he asked gesturing for entrance to my room. He obviously was the person that Lucifer had told me about yesterday so I shrugged and left the door opened while I went to sit on the bed.
He took a seat next to me and stared into my face not saying anything so I decided to talk, he seemed willing and maybe I’ll get some answers finally. “I’m Abelie.” I said offering my hand.
He snatched it up and kissed the back of my hand. “Pleasure. I’m Bulldozer, but you can call m
e Bull. Everyone else does.”
I nodded what weird names they have. “Ok Bull, can you tell me where we are? What is this place?” I asked.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
I sighed. “I have no idea where we are or what this place even is. He mentioned he was a prez and I don’t even know what that implies. I know why I’m here… but Lucifer has proven to be difficult to say the least.”
He laughed. “He’s not much of a talker sweetheart if that’s what you’re looking for. This is a motorcycle club, Hades Riders and he’s the president. Basically, he’s the top dog in here at the Hades Riders, and he makes the rules and final decisions. I’m the VP, basically his right-hand man and second in charge. He does his job well.”
I frowned. “I didn’t even know those things actually existed. There’s a party every night here?” I asked.
He nodded. “They’re not really parties… we all just hang out here together and have a good time. We’re like a family.”
I thought this over. “Are there girls in your club too?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Naw. Only guys are patched in.”
My eyebrow raised, he was lying to me. “But I saw girls here when he first brought me in… no men.”
His smile didn’t falter. “Those are the club bitches. They cook and clean and shit in here, then they party with us at night. They know their job and place in here. The only other females you’ll see in here are old ladies, but they don’t usually parade around here during the day when it’s quiet.”
I gasped. “You guys make woman do your chores for you? That’s horrible.”
He shook his head. “They want to be here. They come to us; they know what the life entails. They do the household type shit, and later in the day they get booze and shit for free. They offer themselves up to us to have a good fuck and everyone is content. They’re not bothered and neither are we.”