Page 24 of Dylan’s Dad (Horsemen Of The Apocalypse MC #1)

Reaper

Leaving Lola right now was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do but I need this to be done.

I need to finish this once and for all. I enter the hidden basement entrance at the club and descend down into what we call the cave.

The main purpose of the cave is to torture or murder people who have become problems for the club.

Reaching the last step, I see Dylan strung up by the wrists from the ceiling.

Honestly I thought this would be harder for me but when I look at him I no longer see my son, I see a monster.

“Hey there, Pops.” Dylan taunts. “How do you like my sloppy seconds?” He laughs and I snap. Lurching forward I slam my fist into his ribs hearing an audible crack. I smile when his breaths are more like wheezing.

“Keep talking, shit head. The more you piss me off the longer I’ll draw out your suffering.

” Hey look at that. He shut right the fuck up.

I know the smile plastered on my face is not a kind one, it’s purely malicious.

I walk over to the ‘tools’ we keep just for this situation and eye my selection.

Grabbing a straight razor, I think this will help me savor this.

Returning to Dylan I slice my first two-inch piece of skin off, to the sounds of Dylan wailing like a dying cat.

I drop the flesh to the ground with a sickening squelching noise.

When I bring the razor back to his skin, “Just get it over with already. I know you won’t kill me, I am your son. So, let’s skip the theatrics.”

I raise my brows, “Oh, so now I’m your father?

When to me you are now just an abuser and a rapist. My son is dead.

You mean nothing to me. You hurt Lola not once but twice while she was under club protection and you went against club code.

You may have never been a member but you were raised in this club you knew better. ”

I can see the fear sinking in with the realization that he will not walk out of here. “You are really going to kill me, your own flesh and blood, over some whore who isn’t even worth. . .”

I swing my arm across his abdomen cutting off his words with the slice of the razor.

His screams are pitiful. “Say anything else about her and I will take your tongue next.” As the room filled with the pungent smell of blood and the echoes of Dylan's agonized screams, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of satisfaction and revulsion.

This was not how I envisioned my life as a father, as a member of the club.

But sometimes, circumstances force you to make unthinkable choices.

I leaned in closer to Dylan's trembling form, his eyes wide with terror. "You think I won't do it? You think I won't take everything from you like you took everything from her?" My voice dripped with venom, each word a piercing shard aimed at his already shattered psyche.

My hand trembles as I wipe the blood-stained razor on my pants, relishing in the power coursing through my veins.

As I step back to admire my handiwork, a perverse satisfaction lingers within me.

Dylan's once handsome face is now marred by deep gashes, his body covered in crimson streaks like an abstract masterpiece painted with his own torment.

He starts a choked laughing noise and still my hands. “You love her.” His laughing becomes more maniacal. “You are a fool. She was screwing you while she was with me. You think she will be loyal to you?”

I grip his face in one hand digging into the cuts I made there.

“She wasn’t fucking me while you were together.

After what you did to her, my brother’s took her away from you to protect her but me, I was still in prison.

I didn’t even see her till the day I got out.

As for her loyalty that is something that is earned and I can guarantee you never earned hers. ”

“You expect me to believe that! I saw you fucking her the day after you got out and it definitely didn’t look like it was the first time.”

“I don't give a fuck what you believe!” I snarled.

“But I made a promise to you.” With a firm grip on his jaw, I inserted the razor into his mouth and somehow managed to cut his tongue free.

As I removed the razor, my grip on his head loosened and it slumped forward, causing him to gag and spit out a chunk of bloody tissue.

The scent of iron filled the air as blood gushed from the wound in his mouth.

I knew that the clock had begun ticking toward his death now, my final act sealing his fate.

The deep cut would lead to significant blood loss and I was over this game of cat and mouse.

Without hesitation, I pulled down his pants and made my final move, slicing his manhood from his body with one smooth stroke of the blade.

"Goodbye, Dylan," I said coldly before turning and walking away from the room, leaving him to bleed out and meet his end alone.

The room felt heavy with the weight of violence and vengeance as I made my exit back up the stairs.

Leaving the room, I ascend the stairs of the cave, the weight of what I've done weighing heavily on my conscience.

As I emerge into the dimly lit club, I see Stallion and Jimmy waiting for me.

"It's done." I state matter of factly. "Or it will be soon enough.

He should bleed out completely shortly."

"You alright?" Stallion asks concern evident in his tone.

I give Stallion a stoic nod, though deep down I am far from alright. The darkness that has consumed my soul feels like an impossibly heavy burden, one that will never be lifted. "I'm fine," I mutter, the words feeling like sandpaper against my tongue. "Just relieved it's finally over."

Stallion's hand lands on my shoulder in a comforting gesture, his voice laced with empathy. "Listen, brother, we all know what he did to Lola. He deserved what he got."

"I know. I don't feel bad for killing him.

" I state, but even as the words leave my lips, I can feel the weight of them sinking into my chest. The truth behind those words is unsettling, and a tinge of guilt creeps its way into my conscience. I don’t feel guilty for killing Dylan but rather for the fact that killing my own flesh and blood was so easy.

Now all I can think about is returning to Lola but I can't return to her like this, covered in the blood of her abuser and my son.

I turn away from Stallion and Jimmy, making my way towards the bedrooms that the club provides for members.

Despite spending 5 years in prison, I still remember that the last door on the left is assigned to me, even though I rarely used it before my arrest.

Once I entered my room, I stripped off the blood-soaked clothes, the memories of Dylan's screaming, and the scent of iron that clung to my skin.

I approached the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the chilling water wash away every trace of violence that had defined my night.

Standing between the cold, hard tiles, I felt my heart and mind emptying with every drop of water that melted into my soul, trying to eradicate the demon inside me that I had just unleashed.

As I stepped out of the shower, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

The man staring back at me was a stranger, one who had surrendered his soul to darkness.

I never claimed to be a saint. I've always been a man capable of monstrous things but this felt different, darker.

Killing Dylan felt like crossing a line.

He was a monster worse than even me and deserved a fate so much worse than what he got, but he was also my son.

I reached out my hand and felt a numbness, a distance between the person I once was and the monster I had become.

I knew then that in order to reclaim the life I once had, I had to make a choice – one that would either bring about a new beginning or the end of everything I had ever known.

With a final glance at the man in the mirror, I stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed a fresh pair of clothes out of the dresser.

I dressed quickly and exited the room, I need Lola right now.

I head straight for the clubs main doors and step out into the cool night air.

Walking toward my bike I see stallion sitting on a bench nearby.

Seeing my approach he rose from his seat, “Are you okay, Brother?”

“I’m fine.” I stated flatly. The look on his face was a mix of concern and like he knew I was lying. “I just need to see Lola.”

He nodded solemnly. “I get that but you know I am here for you, always.”

I brought him into a tight embrace. “I know you are. I love you, brother.” I release him and climb onto my bike.

The engine roared to life as I revved it, the vibrations reverberating through my body.

Stallion stood there, watching me with a mixture of worry and understanding in his eyes.

I could tell he wanted to say something more, to convince me to stay, but he knew better than to try.

The bond between us was unbreakable, forged through the fires of brotherhood and loyalty but Lola was the only one who could settle the rising darkness within.

With a nod, I kicked the bike into gear and tore off into the night, my heart pounding with a cocktail of emotions.

The wind whipped against my face, blowing away the fragments of doubt that had been lingering in my mind.

There was only one place that could offer solace and clarity in moments like these—Lola.

As I sped through the secluded country roads toward the cabin, memories of Lola flooded my mind.

The way her laughter echoed through the trees, the warmth of her touch against my skin, and the way her eyes sparkled like starlight on a moonless night.

She was my anchor in this chaotic world, the calm within the storm.