Page 251 of Forged in the Fire
He closed his eyes against the onslaught of his grandmother’s words, bolstering himself through the trauma.
Gripping onto the hate.
And he gritted as he turned the doorknob and pulled open the door, “Go back to sleep. You don’t need to worry about me.”
How easy it was to slide into the life. A pit of corruption that sucked him right to the bottom of the barrel.
Years had passed in a blur of greed and iniquity.
Running drugs and weapons. Killing. Stealing and maiming.
Guilt ate at his insides with every passing day. Gnawing away at any remnants of humanity that remained.
He might have completely lost himself, but that one purpose remained the same—seeking revenge for his mother’s death.
He’d watched and listened for years. Desperate to pick up on any trace of the men who’d slain his mother. Ones he was sure had taken her out for the simple fact she was standing there.
Their intent to get rid of him, too, believing they’d been exposed.
When he finally got ahold of them, they were going to wish that they had.
His Harley chugged low as he pulled up in front of the dive in one of the most dangerous areas in LA.
A pack of his brothers’ bikes were already parked facing out on the street.
A row of gleaming, malicious metal beneath the vapid city lights.
He did the same, using his boots to propel himself backward before he killed the engine and kicked the stand.
He swung off and strode through the doors into the mayhem of Iron Owls’s reign.
Heavy metal music screamed, flashes of light shearing through the smoky dimness that held to the rest of the room.
An army of men donning their cuts, drinking straight from the bottle, snorting piles of coke while others shot up in the corners.
Any women there were considered fair game. Ripe for the taking. Laid out in every erotic position.
Splayed across the bar top.
Stripped and legs spread on a chair.
Tits spilling out onto tabletops while Silas’s brothers took turns fucking them from behind.
That was unless they had a property patch on their backs, then that became a whole different story.
It was ludicrous to him. That an Owl would take a woman and tie her to this disgusting life. They might have chosen it, but if they really cared about someone? Would they really drag them into this?
But Silas figured most of them didn’t give two real fucks about anything. Only themselves and what they could pillage and thieve. Their women mere possessions.
Silas kept the three people in the world he actually cared about far away from this.
His stomach twisted at the thought of Meems, Elena, and Brody. His grandmother’s pleading eyes haunting him every fucking time he walked out the door.
She’d never given up in her begging him to change. Continually told him he was so much better than the life he was living.
But he wasn’t.
He deserved this hell.
