Page 9 of Rage's Redemption (Rage MC #24)

Fury.

D rake Michaelson was an annoying little prick. He hadn’t learnt his lesson all those years ago, and now the asshole strutted around like his shit didn’t stink. Fury scowled as he sat in his office, deep in the Florida chapter’s clubhouse bowels. Drake also had the luck of the fuckin’ devil.

However, Fury was the devil, and he was claiming Drake’s luck back. He wanted what was his.

Drake and that brainless thug Chance would go down, and Fury would add their land, money, women, and children to the Venomous Fangs. Fury slammed a fist down on the table. Fury knew he was getting old, but not enough he wouldn’t rain blood and brimstone down on Rapid City and the surrounding towns.

Rage thought they were strong.

They were wrong.

It didn’t matter how many other MCs they brought in—their so-called allies—because Fury would crush them all. He was the last living representative of Manticore, and like the creature, Fury was intelligent, stubborn, tricky, and vindictive. When a founding member of each MC in Lawrence and Pennington County’s went bad, Fury recruited them to work undercover against those in power. The rightful presidents. Manticore had been formed. A secret society working within each club to tear down everything they’d built and make it Manticore’s own.

Good clubs left their values behind, and Fury had revelled in the underhanded tactics they’d used to shove a puppet into the president position and control them.

Fury grinned, his teeth a stained yellow and brown from all the smoking he’d done. Those had been fun days. Bulldog had been an egotistical fucker and was easy to handle. But Bulldog was often smacked out of his head and did shit that riled Drake.

Fury had seen the writing on the wall long before Bulldog and made his move with the rest of Manticore and headed to the sunny state of Florida. Slowly he and Manticore had infiltrated a rather unknown club, Venomous Fangs, kicking out the good and keeping the ruthless. They’d given birth to a whole new era. What they couldn’t take, they destroyed, and by doing so, his MC had prospered.

Fury had taken the presidency fairly easily, murdering the former president and raping his wife and thirteen-year-old son and daughter in front of the remaining Fangs. Then he slowly strangled them to death whilst everyone watched. It’d taught them all a lesson. Some brothers had left to be hunted down and killed with their families, and Fury had removed any threat to Manticore. And now they controlled Florida.

But it burned deep inside him when Drake had taken back the club Fury had helped found. The little bastard. Despite the distance, Fury made the fight difficult for Drake. He recruited the Santos men to screw Drake over and other MCs, not caring if they lived or died. Fury aimed to make shit tough for Drake. At one point, Fury thought he might have been able to sway Drake to his side.

But no, Drake had too much of fuckin’ Arrow’s honour and personality inside him. Fury had watched bitterly as Drake plotted and manoeuvred around Bulldog. Fury then turned his attention towards Ace. The kid had manifested into a fuckin’ killer, and Fury had enjoyed watching Apache lose the son he adored. Fury hadn’t been present for Kayleigh’s torture, but he’d sure whacked off to the video Bulldog had sent him. Even though Bulldog took the blame, it’d been Fury whispering in his ear that set Bulldog off to target Kayleigh.

And as for Axel, that sanctimonious prick, the so-called legendary founder of Rage, Fury had plans for him and his wife. Axel’s daughter and those two-street scum that Axel had adopted would also pay. Fury had relished hearing what had happened to Keith, Axel’s legacy. Of course, Fury had a hand in destroying the weak-willed boy, and he’d fucked a club whore to death when he heard the news. Fury didn’t give a shit if Willow was FBI. She had three holes to fuck, and she was beautiful. For now. When he’d finished with her, she’d be nothing more than an unidentifiable mess of flesh and bones.

“Dad, got a report,” Volcano said, entering his office.

“You knock?” Fury growled at his last remaining son.

Volcano stared him in the eyes, and Fury felt glee rise. The boy had once been soft and gentle, and Fury had soon resolved that issue. A psychopath looked at him. Nothing remained of the person he’d once been. Volcano had even killed two of his blood brothers to take his place on Fury’s right side. Back then, Fury didn't care. If they’d been too weak to survive, that was tough shit. But now he regretted only having one living son.

Despite his encroaching age, Fury was still virile. He could use some of those women that Rage had and fuck them until they get pregnant with his kid. Controlling the bitches would be easy once locked in a room. Once they gave birth, he’d give them to his men as a reward. In addition, Rage had several teenage girls that were ripe for pregnancy. A slow grin crossed his face.

“Dad?” Volcano asked.

“Put it on the desk, boy,” Fury snapped.

How dare the punk interrupt his thoughts? Fury glowered until Volcano left and turned back to Drake and Rage.

So far, the fucker had been lucky in their encounters, but Fury hadn’t sent the real force of Venomous Fangs against Rage. He’d sent the bottom feeders. The clubs he’d taken over but forced to keep their real names so he could hide how many guys he really had behind him. Based across the United States, Fury could call over eight hundred men. His own fuckin’ army.

Power surged through him as he thought of them. Lately, he was weeding out the weak. Those left would be strong. When it was time, and it wasn’t yet, but when it was, Fury knew that Drake and his allies couldn’t muster the numbers to match him. Rage was royally screwed and would fall one way or a-fucking-nother.

Fury spun in his chair and faced the wall with his maps, plans, and pictures on it. His gaze lingered on Pheonix Michaelson and her two older daughters. Fury would get great pleasure out of raping them and bringing them to heel. He’d get even further enjoyment taking the billions that Phoenix Michaelson had. Fury’s dick grew hard in his jeans, and Fury undid his buttons. His hand stroked his cock, and he closed his eyes and imagined Phoenix under him as he screwed her ass.

In his mind, he could see her face twisted in pain. Phoenix’s screams made Fury pant, and he grew harder. Drake was tied to a chair, fighting to get free, beaten to a pulp and helpless as Fury fucked Drake’s woman. He pictured Drake’s expression as his hands slowly slid around Phoenix’s neck and he began choking her. Fury’s laughter rang out as Phoenix breathed her last, and Fury saw himself climbing off her as Drake cried big, fat tears.

He visualised himself grabbing the eldest daughter, Jodie was her name, and throwing her on the floor as his men ripped her clothes from her body. Meanwhile, he held Serenity down and fucked her in front of Drake as his guys pulled a train on Jodie.

His cock spasmed, and Fury let out a growl as he came. He grabbed an old tee and wiped himself clean before chucking it into a corner. A grin crossed his lips. He’d come so hard. If he had been in a woman, she’d have gotten pregnant for sure. Proved he still had what it takes.

Fury’s mind turned to Artemis, the former Kayleigh. Artemis thought she’d been tortured before. When Fury got his hands on her, she’d know real agony. The things he was going to do turned him hard again, and Fury glanced at his cock, surprised. Damn, his dick loved the idea of those girls under him. A woman’s pain always made him rock solid, and this was no different. Fury licked his lips.

Once Phoe and Artemis were dead alongside Marsha, the other bitches would fall into place. There were several exceedingly rich cunts amongst them. Fury would take their money and bodies while their boys would be raised to be real men. They would grow up to be Fangs. Naturally, any boy aged seven or older would be put down. Fury had discovered that up to the age of seven, boys were mouldable. After that, they remembered stuff and had stupid thoughts of vengeance.

The girls he didn’t give a shit about. They’d go into a stable until they could be fucked. As soon as they started to bleed, then they were ready to breed. Age did not mean anything. And they’d be the basis on which he’d create another army. Keep them knocked up and enslaved until they were useless, and then whore them out. Somebody would pay for a used cunt, even if was only twenty bucks a pop.

Fury decided that any bitch under forty would be placed into a breeding centre. Any attractive cunts over forty would be for his men’s usage. Any older than fifty and those bitches could join their men—unless one of his guys took a liking to her.

Fury came a second time as he finalised his plan for the Rage females. They were just incubators waiting for his cum and his seed to take root. He’d raise a fuckin’ blood army who would know exactly who was boss. It was time he got his own kingdom, and he’d be taking South Dakota.

Let the government come; he’d win, he always did.

Dana

I’d been back at work two days when some of the stories hit about my family. Dylan had warned me as soon as I entered the office to be prepared. He made coffees as I took the newspaper he had given me. My mouth dropped open as the first thing I saw was an image of my mother being arrested. Mom wore her usual suit, but she was rumpled and, in the picture, sobbing with her hands cuffed. Two hulking officers were guiding her to a black and white, and she looked beyond shocked. Her make-up had run where she’d been crying. In the background, I could see my father sternly staring after her.

“What the fuck?” I gasped and read the headline. “Have you seen this?” I asked Dylan.

He sent me a sharp nod, carried over my coffee, and grabbed one of the chairs to sit next to me.

“Socialite accused of stealing charity funds,” I read it out loud.

“Carry on,” Dylan encouraged.

I did and was horrified. It appeared there was an accounting discrepancy, and the information had been mailed to the trustees of the three charities my mother was on. Basically, she was accused of stealing nearly half a million dollars in money from them.

“Leila tracked it all back and sent the evidence when you gave me permission,” Dylan said.

I nodded absently and read on.

“It says here about her charitable background and that the police might be looking at other charities she served on. The report also mentions Shania and me and the fact I work here. Will that cause trouble for you?” I asked, worried.

I didn’t want to bring shit down on Hawthorne’s or on Dylan. If I was about to be smeared by the media, and it probably would happen, Hawthorne might lose customers.

“Nope. And if we lose clients, so fucking what? We’re booked for months in advance, you know that. Don’t worry about it, Dana,” Dylan replied.

I guessed he meant well, but seeing my name in the paper had frightened and shocked me. I felt the beginnings of a headache and rubbed my temples.

“Ellen’s looking for an escape,” Dylan said, and I gazed at him, confused.

Ellen?

“Axel’s wife,” Dylan added.

“I don’t understand.”

“Spok to Ezra late last night when I knew that this shit would hit today. I’m giving you a two-week paid vacation with him, and it starts tomorrow. However, I am sending you home this afternoon to pack and do what you need to. Ellen wants a break from the chaos at Rage, so she’ll be covering you. She’s due to arrive in the next half an hour if you can just show her the systems. And Marissa is going to cover our payroll.”

“You’re getting rid of me?” I asked, clutching my stomach as nausea rose. I could feel the panic inside me, battling to get out.

“Nope, don’t be stupid, Dana. I’m getting you out of the way before the media frenzy hits. I can protect you here, but not out there. Not properly, anyway, and I do not want them hounding you. Ezra has somewhere he’s going to take you to help you relax and strengthen your shields, so when you get back, you can deal with the media,” he said.

“I’m not fired?” I gasped as relief washed over me.

“Now, why would I do that? I started this with your permission, so why fire you? Baby girl, you are one of us, and you’ve done nothing wrong. Stop over-reacting and settle down. Make a list of things to tell Ellen, and go, honey. Ezra said something about needing a swimsuit, jeans, sweaters, or tees and hiking boots. You’re not going to a hotel, so pack as if you were home,” Dylan replied.

“Why would you pack if you were at home?” I asked, and Dylan shook his head.

“Dana, you’re pushing buttons. You know what I mean. This is your way of hitting back because Ezra and I arranged shit without you knowing,” Dylan retorted. Then he rose to his feet and kissed my forehead. “Go have some fun and relax. I’ll have a statement ready for you to release when you return. Hawthorne’s Investigative Services will be fine.”

“How much would you like to bet on that? Within a few days, you’ll be begging Dana to come back,” Ellen announced from the door. Beside her was Max, and they must have arrived together.

“Good morning,” Dylan said, and Ellen chuckled.

“For me, it is. You might start thinking twice about things, though. I won’t spoil you boys like Dana does!” Ellen warned with a merry twinkle.

Dylan and Max both let out a heartfelt sigh, and Max placed his hand on his chest.

“Dana, my sister of the heart, doesn’t leave us to this unfeeling monster who won’t indulge us!” he exclaimed dramatically.

“No doughnuts for you today,” Ellen said, waggling her fingers, and it was then I noticed Max was carrying three large boxes from The Reading Nook. If I were a gambling girl, I’d bet they were full of pasties and cakes from Penny.

“I’m telling Axel you’re bullying us!” Max declared, and Ellen chuckled.

“Go ahead. Because Axel will always do as I wish if he wants to have sex anytime soon!” Ellen retorted.

Max’s mouth opened and shut like a fish before he made a stabbing motion towards his heart. Seconds later, he mimicked a death scene as he fell backwards into one of the oversized, comfortable chairs in the room.

“Idiot,” Dylan said and walked towards the office door that led to the backrooms and stairs for the higher levels.

Dylan stopped as he reached Ellen and dropped a kiss on her head.

Ellen chuckled throatily and then offered him a doughnut.

Dylan snatched two and disappeared with Max on his heels, looking balefully at Ellen.

“You’ll let Max have one,” I said, laughing.

“Yup, but I’m going to make him suffer first,” Ellen agreed. “Let’s focus on business so you can leave.”

Munching on a pastry, I grabbed a chair for Ellen to sit next to me and then began to explain how the office worked.

◆◆◆

I was waiting patiently, peering out of my living room window for Ezra. It was three o’clock, and he would arrive soon. I’d packed a suitcase and dodged several calls from unknown numbers. My gut told me they were from media outlets. I’d no intention of talking to them. As I watched a black SUV pull up on my drive, I stiffened and pulled my gun. Between Fury, the Venomous Fangs, and my parents, I was on edge.

Relief hit me when Ezra climbed out and marched towards the house. I saw him keep glancing over his shoulder at two vans parked a little way away. They weren’t usually parked around here, so I was suspicious already.

I flew to the door and opened it, letting Ezra in. He swept me up, moved me away from the door, and kissed me as he kicked it shut.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I expected, but the article took me by surprise,” I admitted.

“It’s going to get worse. Hawthorne is on a mission to blow them the fuck up,” Ezra replied.

“I’ve guessed that.”

“Are you good with that, Dana? Hawthorne will stop if you ask him to.”

“No, I’m fine with it. They’ve escaped punishment for too long. If I don’t stop them, nobody will. How could my mother scam all that money from charity? It’s not like Dad is poor,” I answered with a heavy sigh.

“No, your parents are rich as fuck, which makes me wonder how you didn’t turn out like your sibling,” Ezra teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m the black sheep of the family, didn’t you know?” I asked.

Ezra shook his head. “If you are the black sheep, then we need a thousand more like you. Too many people around like your twat of a sister. Are you packed?”

“Yes, Dylan said to pack casual clothes.”

“Good. Let’s go, babe; we’ll eat on the way unless you’re starving?” Ezra quizzed.

“No, I had a late lunch. I’ll be okay for now,” I replied, loving how Ezra worried about my basic needs.

“Great, two weeks of alone time, baby; what will we do?” Ezra teased, making me blush.

I knew full well what I planned to do and had packed suitable nightwear to carry that plan out. As we stepped outside, a sudden movement caught my eye as I locked the door.

A man and woman hurried towards me with two further men getting out of a second van.

“Can you comment on the allegations concerning your mother?” the lady called out as the man began filming with a camera.

“Car, now, don’t answer them, baby,” Ezra said, taking my case and two cool bags containing food that would spoil in one hand and my elbow in the other. He hurried me towards the SUV as the woman pounded across my lawn. Ezra bundled me into the SUV as she kept shouting questions. The second pair arrived close on her heels and began calling out their own questions.

Ezra slung my case and food in the car and climbed in resolutely, ignoring them. Two men smirked as they stopped behind the vehicle, but Ezra remained undeterred. He started backing out slowly, giving them plenty of time to move.

I winced when I didn’t think they would, but finally, they realised Ezra wasn’t stopping and leapt out of the way with outraged yells. The cameraman with the woman carried on filming as Ezra sent him a dark glare and then sped off.

The four of them were running for their vans, but Ezra smirked.

“Don’t worry, babe, they won’t catch us,” he reassured me as I peered over my shoulder.

“Don’t be too sure; they both must have had drivers; they’re behind us,” I murmured, feeling sick.

“Not for long,” Ezra said, and as we approached a junction, black SUVs appeared from nowhere. There were loads of them, and I gaped as Ezra turned a corner and the SUVs split up. Four followed us, with one van behind them. At the next junction, they split again, and I sighed as we lost the van.

“Who on earth?” I asked, trying not to laugh at Ezra’s smug face.

“Babe, I saw them when I got here and sent out a text. That was the Hawthorne females, his men, and Rage old ladies. Seems they all like a particular type of car. There were enough of them to confuse the media following us.” Ezra chuckled, seemingly quite pleased with himself.

In fact, I had to admit it was a rather ingenious way of losing the intrusive media. I turned back to face the front, secure that in Ezra’s capable hands, I was safe.

“We’ll pick up groceries nearer the cabin,” Ezra said.

“Cabin?”

“Yeah, one of Jacob’s guys has a beautiful log cabin, and I asked Jacob if he knew of anywhere we could stay. With our links to Rage and Hawthorne’s, the reporters might have tracked us down, eventually. But our link with Jacob and his guy isn’t as well known. Plus, they’d look at Jacob, not his men,” Ezra explained.

“Jacob?”

“Casey’s dad.”

“Oh, Mr Reeves,” I murmured as it sunk in who Ezra meant.

“Yeah, Jacob called me this morning to say he had somewhere we could go.”

“Which is where?”

“Fort Sisseton Historic State Park. Jacob’s man owns a cabin set back in trees but near to Kettle Lake. There is stuff to do nearby. We can visit the fort, although they say it’s haunted. There’s also trails we could hike, there’s a vineyard, golf course, wildlife refuge, to name a few things. There’s some good restaurant and several towns we’ll visit.”

“You did your research, Ezra,” I said, teasing him.

“Yup, had to know I was taking you someplace safe. Not going to endanger you, Dana. Although tourists visit, it’s a quiet place we can hole up in,” he replied and poked his tongue out at me.

The childish reaction coming from such a strong man sent me into fits of laughter. Ezra grinned, too, as we drove on.

We stopped when we were nearly there to hit a supermarket and then carried on. And hell, did Ezra pick one heck of a place to hide in!