Order (Tattoos and Ties Duet #2)(94)

He saw nothing but red as his father’s abusive slurs echoed in his head. The pain of his past threatened to suffocate him, pull him down. He unleashed his pent-up aggression on Cummings, purging the demons of his past with every fall of his fist. No child deserved to grow up terrified or hated by their father. He had no idea how long he pounded the scumbag when the screaming seeped past his anger. Slowly, he came back to the here and now, to the crappy apartment with the disrespectful prospect battered and bleeding, trying his best to cower away from Keyes’s death grip-style hold.

Keyes released the little shit, and Cummings dropped to his knees doing a piss poor job at shielding his face and head. Whatever had snapped in Keyes’s head righted itself. He drew air into his burning lungs, his focus now drawn to the screaming woman who stood with several other people in the front doorway, one with a phone in his hand pointed straight at him.

Shit.

Keyes started to turn away then stopped. He lowered his face to Cummings who tried to scramble away. He took a moment to wipe his bloody knuckles across the tank top as he issued his last warning. “Don’t make me come back here.”

To make sure the scumbag understood, Keyes grabbed the nasty ass vest slung over a chair. Hell would freeze before he left that prospect patch behind.

“You’ll have to go through me to lay claim on this.” No way was this guy ever coming back to his club. All the bystanders but the female gave him a wide berth, quickly rushing out of his way as he left the apartment.

He was back on his bike, hitting the street within a minute of leaving the apartment.

Keyes raged at himself to calm his ass down as he broke seventy on a side road. This wasn’t the type of neighborhood where residents called the police when shit went wrong. The cops didn’t get in a hurry to answer a disturbance call in this part of town. That small bit of knowledge calmed him, and only then did he let himself take a good, long breath. That breath had him pulling off the road into a vacant parking lot. He left the bike running as he stared at the prospect vest he had hastily shoved inside his leather riding jacket. Every bit of pent-up anger hit him hard as he ripped the prospect patch off, tossing the blue-jean vest to the ground.

He had lost his shit in there, something he never allowed himself to do, but goddamn, he had made a promise to himself the day of his old man’s funeral. He would never let anyone disrespect him again. Not anyone, for any reason. Apparently, that was a vow he planned to take to his grave.

Keyes took another deep breath and pushed the patch inside his leather jacket for safe keeping. If he were smart, he’d go straight to the club right now and hand it over to Fox or Mack, but by God, he didn’t think he could walk into that clubhouse and look at his so-called brothers who had willingly let his old man treat him like shit all those years, at least not right now.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those destructive thoughts. He just couldn’t seem to shake the pissed off resentment he had toward his brothers right now. He was so fucking tired of the name calling and insults, and tonight showed him that his old man’s ghost still lingered all around him.

Instead of risking an outright brawl at the clubhouse, Keyes pulled his phone free and messaged Dev. “I fucked up. He’s beat down. I have his patch.”

“Cummings?” Dev replied within seconds.

“Yeah. With witnesses.”

“Fuck, Bro, what were you thinking?” The blood gathering at Keyes’s knuckles ran down his hand, leaving a warm trail over his tender skin.

“I got his patch. Whatever happens, he ain’t gettin’ this one back.” As he waited for Dev’s reply, his phone rang. Dev’s name popped up on his screen. He swiped to answer, lifting the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”

“Lay low. If you need somewhere to go, come to Holly’s.” Dev’s voice was low and serious, showing his concern.

Having a secret place to stay wasn’t a problem at all. Funny though, Alec was the whole reason for this trip, and he hadn’t considered him once since arriving at Cummings’s stupid apartment. “Tell your old man for me?”

“Fuck, man, I should’ve gone,” Dev said, regret lacing his words.

A bitter laugh welled in his chest. “He’d be dead right now if you went. My old man was spewin’ out of his goddamn mouth. Pissed me the fuck off.”

“I knew I hated that motherfucker,” Dev growled. Whether motherfucker meant his father or Cummings didn’t seem to matter, and Keyes swore he heard the sound of Dev’s knuckles cracking in the background.

“Yeah, I’m out,” he said and ended the call.

He settled back in his seat, rolled his tight shoulder muscles before he pushed the kickstand back in place and drove straight to Alec’s. The front outside lights of the house were all off, not the normal inviting home he usually drove up to. Keyes rolled down the long driveway, spotting Alec through the windows taking long strides through the house. Keyes parked his bike in its regular spot and was barely off the seat before Alec threw open the back door, calling out to him.

“A biker assaulted Cummings,” Alec said frantically, and Keyes nodded, never breaking stride as he by passed Alec, heading straight through the still open back door. There was no hesitation on Alec’s part as he easily shifted around to stay right on his heels. “Alexa, turn on all the lights.”

The room was immediately bathed in bright light as Keyes shrugged out of his jacket, the prospect patch falling to the floor at his feet. The leather sleeve of his riding jacket scraped across his raw knuckles causing the bleeding to begin again.