Page 30 of Hidden Desires (Bikers of Mayhem #2)

BLADE

I t had been about half an hour since Ace was taken back to the motel by his father’s men—or at least he hoped that was true.

He had to believe that his father wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble just to kill them both.

If that were the case, why wouldn’t he have just killed Ace right in front of him?

No. He had to hope that Ace would be safe and sound back with his brother and the rest of the crew. It was the only thing keeping him going.

Now that he didn’t have to worry about Ace, he could concentrate on getting free and unaliving the asshole standing in front of him.

To say that Blade hated his father was no understatement. The man had caused him so much pain.

When his father caught him with a guy, he turned his back on him, making him feel like being gay was something to be ashamed of and that he needed to hide his sexuality at all costs.

It was that betrayal that caused Blade to question everything.

He had trouble trusting people. It took Blade an incredibly long time to become comfortable enough with someone to actually let his guard down and not always wonder when the person was going to fuck him over.

He used humor and bad behavior to keep people at bay and ensure that no one ever took him too seriously. If people got close to him, they might actually see who was truly lurking behind that playful smile.

But Ace, he had been the outlier. There was something about Ace that made Blade want to trust him and open up. There was still a lot about himself and his past that he needed to share with Ace—if he ever saw him again.

One of the biggest issues was his struggle with feelings of abandonment and not belonging.

Ace proved himself tonight by fiercely fighting against his father’s men, refusing to leave without Blade.

Blade had never felt so loved, so needed.

If he ever saw Ace again, he would marry him, make him his own, and never let him go.

“You know, there were times over the years—just a few—when I wondered what ever became of the bastard little son that I had? It wasn’t very often, usually when I was piss drunk and covered in my own piss,” Blade’s father said as he stood next to the open window, peering out into the darkness.

“Do you remember all the times you had to sneak me back into the trailer? Trying to hide how drunk I was from Theon and his brother. Man, those two bastards really hated it when people drank. After you left, there was no hiding it from them. They were already pissed at me for kicking you out. Saying I wasn’t a good father and that I should be ashamed of myself.

Fuck those bastards. Who were they to pass judgment on me? No son of mine was going to be gay.”

Blade shook his head.

“Did you really kidnap me so that I could sit here and listen to you whine about how pathetic your life is? ’Cause, to be honest, I haven’t thought about you since the day you kicked me out.

” That was a lie. He had thought about his father several times each week.

As much as he hated to admit it, his father’s betrayal still haunted him to this day.

His father glared at him. Those dark-brown orbs that he had once thought loved him stared back at him with nothing but contempt and hatred in them.

It’s amazing what children will believe when they don’t know any better.

Growing up, Blade never would have imagined that the man who was sleeping at the other end of the trailer would one day become a murderer.

He needed to know the truth.

“Did you kill him?” Blade asked, glaring at his father.

He sat on the floor, hands still bound, with his back pressed up against the living room wall.

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve killed a lot of people over the years,” his father said, shrugging it off like he was talking about the weather.

“Steven. Chester’s son. The kid from the dumpster.”

“Oh, the junkie who couldn’t pay his bill.” An evil smile spread across the man’s face as he seemed to be reliving the murder in his head.

Talk about fucked.

“That one was fun. I drove him out to the desert, then let him loose like I was letting him get away. I let him get about a hundred feet away before I threw my first dagger. The sound that boy made when my blade connected with his calf. Have you ever looked into a terrified man’s eyes the moment he realizes that no matter what he does, his life is coming to an end?

That smell of fear, I swear, is what God must smell right before he sends a natural disaster to murder hundreds of people.

One great tsunami to wipe out an entire village. ”

The man was delusional. Not only had he become unhinged, but it also appeared that his father was losing his grip on reality.

“You’re not a god,” Blade reminded his father.

“I may as well be. I get to decide who lives and who dies. At least in Vegas, I do.”

Another sinister smile.

“What does that mean?”

“After I was kicked out of the Winter Brothers Circus, I spent a few years roaming the West Coast, taking jobs in construction or panhandling, doing whatever I could to make some money. That is, until I had a run-in with one of the members of the Cyanyd Kings. The punk tried to rip me off, so I threw half a dozen knives into his chest. His boss reached out to me two days later and offered me a position on his crew. Now I get to slice open any young punk who mouths off or gets on the wrong side of my boss.”

“But you’re still just a bitch taking orders from his master,” Blade snidely threw back.

His father froze. It appeared he didn’t like that comment.

Slowly, he turned from the window and walked back to where Blade was sitting.

He glared at his son before crouching down so that they were face-to-face.

“Well, this is one order that I won’t be following.”

There was something cold and dark about his words. Blade refused to show his father any weakness.

“What does that mean?”

The Demon Blade Thrower smirked at his son.

“Well, my boss just about creamed himself when he realized that there was another dagger thrower in town. He then shot his load when he discovered that the dagger thrower was also my son. He asked me to reach out to you and convince you to come work for the Cyanyd Kings. Having two dagger throwers in the crew would double the crew’s fear factor. ”

All this was just to get him to join his father’s crew?

“But I’m no idiot. I know that the second the boss secures your loyalty, he’ll order you to take me out. That’s what gang bosses do with old folks like me—they replace us with younger, fresher models. So, here we are. Father and son. Youth versus maturity.”

His father stood up and walked over to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass. He took a sip, staring at the kitchen cabinet.

“No fucking way am I being replaced by my faggot son.”

His father turned to face Blade. His eyes were black as night.

“First, I thought we would have a little fun. Then we can get to the killing-you part.”

His father downed the amber liquid before placing his glass down on the counter.

“It’s nothing personal.”

He turned to the two men who remained with him.

“You watch him. Your friend is going to come with me outside to get things ready.”

“Aren’t you afraid that your goons will tell your boss that you disobeyed his orders and you killed me instead?” Blade asked, taking every opportunity he could to stick it to his father.

His father turned and locked eyes with him. “Oh, these men don’t work for the Cyanyd Kings. These are just junkies I’ve paid to help kidnap your ass. It’s amazing what addicts will do if you promise them a fix.”

With that chilling revelation, his father turned and left the cabin with one of his minions in tow.