Page 9 of Knuckles

“You ready then?” he confirms, and I know he’s already spoken to Dad about taking me out, which just angers me more because the jackass thought I’d just toe the line.

Gritting my teeth, I remind him, “I have a class to teach!” before I storm towards the doors without looking back.

***

“Okay, that is it, everyone,” I call to my students, though considering most of the people in here are in their seventies or eighties, I don’t know if I should call them students.

No one says anything, and I hold in my eye roll as I walk to my desk.

It isn’t what I wanted to do with my life, teaching people, but this is the closest my father would allow me and yes I say allow because the center is only five minutes from home.

I sigh as my students begin to trickle out without saying goodbye and I grab my phone only to wince at the several missed calls from my father and instead of calling him back, I look around the art room and eye the small couch on the back wall and I swallow hard knowing I’m going to be sleeping here tonight to avoid another lecture like I’m some teenager.

Maybe I need to start looking for jobs and places to live out of state. Knowing my luck, he’ll have me arrested for something I didn’t do just to keep me close.

I feel like I’m being suffocated by my mom’s actions. I’ve lost my dream job, my passion and I’ve never been in love, instead I lost hope in it.

I shake my head as my phone rings again and I ignore the call from Dad and mutter, “I really need to get out of my father’s house.”

Chapter 3

Knuckles – Twenty-Six Years Old

I wipe my thumb over my bottom lip as I eye the brothers filing into church, my eyes going to my dad, who doesn’t look my way as he takes his seat at the back of the table, but I’m not surprised.

We don’t really have a relationship, fuck, I think Blaze has more of a relationship with Killer, even if he replies with grunts, than I do with my dad, well, since I called him Splinter eight years ago anyway.

Something broke that day, and he knew he had lost his son, though we barely had a relationship before I kicked the shit out of Striker and over the years, he’s barely spoken to me unless he has to, the unwanted son.

The fucker didn’t even remember that it was my twenty-sixth birthday yesterday, no one did. Why remember the unwantedbrother’s fucking birth where a patch chaser tried to trap a brother?

I know I sound like I’m having a pity party for one, but it’s the truth.

I look away and gently stretch my busted-up knuckles, and I eye the cuts that give me the sting I need to keep my anger at bay, an anger no one around me understands how lethal it can really get.

I’m not stupid, I know it isn’t normal to need pain in order to control yourself, but I guess when your mother slashes your chest several times a week until you hit puberty and could fight back, pain becomes addictive. Whereas some people get addicted to drugs, I’ve gotten addicted to pain, and it’s hers and my father's fault for agreeing to keep me.

I didn’t fucking ask to be born.

I hear the door shut before Cage bangs his gavel and says, “Alright, fuckers, church in session,” and I look at my Pres just as he asks, “Crash, did you hear from Benny?”

“Yeah, his dad is pissed, and basically we’re his punching bag,” Crash grunts, and I lock my jaw.

Chief Marshalls has a hard-on for the club and has fucking escalated since we took care of the Chargers who kidnapped those kids.

Fuck, he’s had his officers in my gym three times this week demanding to search the place and every time I’ve demanded a warrant which they never fucking have before I tell them to fuck off.

Grunting, Crash explains, “The fucker is getting worse, and now every biker riding in town gets pulled over and searched by his officers that he knows are not on the side of the club, mainly that fucker Masters.”

“The fuckers raided the strip club last night, with the Chief front and center like he had some kind of right while hisdaughter who was clearly dragged along stood at the back wall with a scowl, not agreeing with her father and made it perfectly known how much she disagreed with her father’s actions,” Blaze adds, “The asshole was pissed that he didn’t find anything but promised he’d be back with a warrant for the basement door when I refused to put the code in.”

“He won’t get that warrant. Not only is there no reason for him to search the club in the first place, but he did so without said warrant, which could cost him his badge if we made a complaint. Besides, I’ve already put a block on him. Every judge in his jurisdiction is fully aware he’s got a vendetta against us and have refused to give him any warrants and if he tries, him and his team will be investigated. I also promised Clark we’ll keep Kodi out of shit, so the judges are aware that she isn’t involved,” Trick interjects and I lock my jaw tighter at the mention of her name.

Kodi…

Fucking weeks, and I haven’t been able to get her out of my head, and my hate for her ramps up every time I hear her fucking name for having this effect on me and when I swore I’d never fucking see her again, it lasted a matter of fucking weeks before she was back in my orbit.

Not long after we saved the kids, the officer brothers all drove to the hospital to intervene with Clark after a run. For years she’s been closed off with us and after Trick managed to convince her to cancel the divorce and to try with him, they’re finally happy and a family with little Willow.