Souls Unfractured (Hades Hangmen, #3)(2)

Hades: Lord of the Underworld in Greek mythology.

Mother Chapter: First branch of the club. Founding location.

One-percenter: The American Motorbike Association (AMA) were once rumored to have said that 99% of bikers were law-abiding citizens. Bikers who do not abide by AMA rules name themselves ‘one-percenters’ (the remaining non law-abiding 1%). The vast majority of ‘one-percenters’ belong to Outlaw MC’s.

Cut: Leather vest worn by outlaw bikers. Adorned with patches and artwork displaying the club’s unique colors.

Patched in: When a new member is approved for full membership.

Church: Club meetings for full patch members. Led by President of the club.

Old Lady: Woman with wife status. Protected by her partner. Status held to be sacrosanct by club members.

Club Slut: A woman who comes to the clubhouse to engage in casual sexual acts with the club members.

Bitch: Woman in Biker culture. Term of endearment.

Gone/Going to Hades: Slang. Referring to the dying/dead.

Meeting/Gone/Going to the Boatman: Slang. Dying/dead. Referring to ‘Charon’ in Greek mythology. Charon was the ferryman of the dead, an underworld daimon (Spirit). Transported departed souls to Hades. The fee for the crossing over the rivers Styx and Acheron to Hades were coins placed on either the dead’s eyes or mouth at burial. Those who did not pay the fee were left to wander the shores of Styx for one hundred years.

Snow: Cocaine.

Ice: Crystal Meth

The Organizational Structure of Hades Hangmen President (Prez): Leader of the club. Holder of the Gavel, which is symbolic of the absolute power that the President wields. The Gavel is used to keep order in Church. The word of the President is law within the club. He takes advice from senior club members. No one challenges the decisions of the President.

Vice President (VP): Second-in-Command. Executes the orders of the President. Principal communicator with other chapters of the club. Assumes all responsibilities and duties of the President in their absence.

Road Captain: Responsible for all club runs. Researches, plans and organizes club runs and ride outs. Ranking club officer, answering only to President or VP.

Sergeant-at-Arms: Responsible for club security, policing and keeping order at club events. Reports unseemly behavior to President and VP. Responsible for the safety and protection of the club, its members and its Prospects.

Treasurer: Keeps records of all income and expenses. Keeps records of all club patches and colors issued and taken away.

Secretary: Responsible for making and keeping all club records. Must notify members of emergency meetings.

Prospect: Probationary member of the MC. Goes on runs, but banned from attending Church.





“For fractured souls are like magnets.

Drawn to collide into an impossible bliss…”





Prologue


“Did you kill anyone else out here?”

I watched the little black-haired bitch—Mae’s sister—ask Prez if we’d slaughtered anyone else in this motherf*cking cult hell.

Prez nodded his head.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

Prez didn’t respond, and my head twitched and my skin pricked as her green eyes narrowed.

“Please! I need to see him!” she shouted. Her pale face had gone bright red and her hands had begun to shake at her sides.

Prez pointed into the woods, and in no f*cking time, she hightailed it into the trees. My jaw clenched and my hands fisted as I watched her go.

Viking leaned in, stopping just short of touching me. He knew not to f*cking touch me. “You carved that f*cker up Krueger style, didn’t you, brother?”

I stayed staring at the woods, catching the bitch’s dress disappear in the distance.

“Flame?” Viking pushed.

My teeth gritted, remembering piercing that f*ck with my blades and I snarled. “I f*cking hacked him up good. That bible pedo f*cker deserved to die like that.”

“So that’ll be a yes. A huge f*cking yes to the extreme makeover, Krueger edition.”

But I didn’t respond to Viking. Didn’t respond because the black-haired bitch was walking back out. And I watched her all the way. I counted her every step as she moved closer. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…

I watched her chest rise and fall. She was breathing hard. She was f*cking breathing so hard. Surely she wasn’t pissed that the disciple pedo was dead?

“Sister?” Mae ran over to her, but the little bitch’s green eyes were on Prez.

“Who killed him?” she asked, pushing past Mae. Her face moved from one brother to the next, looking each in the eyes.

And I stared. I stared and I twitched, and felt my blood begin to boil.

The f*cker had deserved to die. I’d f*cking got hard watching that f*cker die. I’d watched the life leave his eyes. I’d watched his blood spill. And I’d motherf*cking loved it.

Then the little bitch reached me. Her tiny frame stood below me and those huge green eyes looked right up into mine. “Was it you?” she asked.

My blood rushed faster through my body, and I nodded my head. “Yeah, I killed the f*cker,” I spat.

I tensed, my muscles jumping, waiting for her to defend that cunt. To tell me I was evil, wrong and a killer—shit I already knew.

But before I could f*cking think, a cry left her throat and she jumped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist. My heart fired in my chest like a f*cking cannon and my hands fisted and rose into the air as her hands touched my skin.