Hell Hounds MC: Welcome to Serenity

Chapter Five

Leaving the Club, Rubble headed to one of Mad Dog’s favored hangouts: H.H. Mayhem, a bar owned by the MC. Many of the Brothers preferred it since they didn’t have to pay for drinks. In addition, there were rooms upstairs for them to crash if they had too much to drink or if they wanted a quick romp with a club girl.

Stepping inside, Rubble found it rather quiet, but then it was still early in the afternoon. A few Brothers were shooting pool with a couple of club girls hovering around them. His gaze eventually settled on the bartender. Switch was a full member of the MC, not some club girl wanting to indulge in a fantasy. Her long black hair now had a few streaks of gray, and she still preferred black lipstick and nail polish. She was all woman with a voluptuous figure and an attitude that put most of the Brothers to shame. Spotting him in the doorway, she gestured three fingers and pointed to the stairs, knowing full well who he was looking for.

Without a word, Rubble headed up to the second floor, which boasted six motel-style bedrooms. Reaching the third door, he sighed before kicking it with a loud bang as it struck the wall. The man sprawled on the bed jerked awake and practically threw his female partner on the ground, startled at the unexpected intrusion.

Seeing his guest brought a scowl to his face, “Jesus, Rubble. Know how to knock?”

“I knock, and you just ignore me,” Rubble stated. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“What’s going on?” the girl picked herself up off the floor, clutching the blankets to her nude form.

Rubble looked her up and down, with an appraising glance. She was about the usual type, if a little on the petite side, though far too slim for his own liking. Her make-up was smeared across her face and her hair a bird’s nest of morning knots.

“It’s morning,” Mad Dog answered. “Get dressed and get out.”

“Oh…all right. So, see you tonight?” she smiled, trying to ignore Rubble’s imposing figure watching them without comment.

“Why?” Mad Dog looked at her with a note of disgust. “What makes you think I’d want to spend any time with you?”

“But last night…”

“Was it or do you not know my reputation?” Mad Dog sneered. “One and done. That’s all you get. You were barely good enough for one f**k, I certainly wouldn’t give you two.”

She blushed, “You know, you don’t have to be such an ass.”

Mad Dog stood, not caring in the least that he was naked, and smirked, “You don’t want an ass you shouldn’t be hanging out with bikers.”

Without another look in her direction, he headed to the bathroom and shut the door, leaving Rubble to handle the fallout. Sighing, Rubble settled himself against the wall to wait. The girl hesitated, expecting him to leave and give her some privacy. When he didn’t move she resigned herself to dressing in front of him.

She scowled at him, “You know, you could at least look away.”

“If you don’t want to be a spectacle you shouldn’t make yourself one,” Rubble replied in a bored tone.

“Like what you see?”

“I’ve seen better,” Rubble shrugged.

“Wow, so you are an asshole too,” she scoffed, brushing past him on her way to the door.

“Hey, little piece of advice. You want to be someone’s lady, you need to have some self-respect, or you’ll always be just another club girl.”

Rubble watched her go. He pitied her, but didn’t have any real sympathy. Girls like her should know what they were signing up for from the start. They hung around wanting to live some biker fantasy they read about, but they didn’t have what it took to truly be a man’s old lady, his ride-or-die. Those kinds of women were few and far between and if Caine wasn’t careful he would miss out on his.

* * *

In the bathroom, Caine hovered over the toilet, groaning as he relieved himself. His gaze fell on the garbage can and he noted the used condom with a sigh. The last thing he needed was some club girl coming up to him crying that she was pregnant with his baby. He refused to be dragged into the middle of any nonsensical entanglements.

Some girls couldn’t take the hint if an anvil was dropped on their heads. There were even a few who thought they could make him jealous by getting cozy with another Brother, but they learned quickly he didn’t care. He was just glad another Brother was willing to take such a girl off his hands.

Stepping up to the sink, he splashed water on his face and gave his reflection the once over. His dark brown hair was getting long again as it flopped over his forehead, but he hadn’t made time to get it cut. Likewise, his beard was starting to look like Rubble’s, so it was definitely time to trim it. Aside from the bags under his eyes, he still had a handsome profile. His body was well-maintained with defined muscle tone, if not quite as bulky as Rubble. There was a lot to entertain a woman, but last night was anything but interesting.

Was it the fact that club girls were just too easy? Or was he losing interest in the game itself? He wasn’t sure what his problem was, and he didn’t really like to dwell on it. It was far easier to stick with the three B’s: bikes, booze and bitches, rather than sift through the darkness of his own mind, knowing unresolved issues lay within like a minefield.

Gargling mouth wash, he stuffed his mental baggage away and returned to the room to see Rubble was still waiting for him, although the girl was gone. Without any trace of embarrassment, he leisurely searched for his clothes and dressed.

“You get what you needed?” Rubble asked.

“Enough to scratch an itch,” Caine shrugged. “The girls aren’t good enough for more than that.”

Rubble grunted, “Well, maybe it’s time you stopped messing with girls and find yourself a woman.”

“Is that why you are here? To lecture me?” Caine straightened as he buttoned his pants. “The biker who would be monk. When’s the last time you had any action?”

“Don’t ask if you aren’t ready to hear the answer,” Rubble warned, “and I’m not here to lecture. Duke has a job for you.”

“Yeah?”

“He wants Staples strung up by his toenails.”

“And what did the bookworm do to deserve that?”

“He stole twenty-five grand out of the St. Jude fund to pay for his gambling.”

Caine paused as he pulled on his shirt and shot Rubble a look, “You serious?”

“Matchbook and I almost nabbed him, but he slipped past us, the weasel. Now, he’s running.”

“Matchbook? Why him? You should have called me from the start,” Caine grumbled. It was a lot harder to grab someone when they were looking over their shoulder. They’d lost the element of surprise and now their quarry would be even more wary.

“You were indisposed. Next time, don’t turn off your phone,” Rubble grunted. “Duke’s putting a call to Zero. Call him once you are on the road.”

“I don’t need Zeros’ help.”

“Tough s**t. Duke wants this tied up quick.”

“Right,” Caine sighed, throwing on his cut before locating his phone. He quickly switched it off silent before slipping it into his pocket. Without another word, he headed for the door.

“Caine, you won’t find the answer at the bottom of a bottle or with any of these girls you keep messing with.”

He hesitated a moment and Rubble thought he might actually answer back. Instead, Caine continued on his way. Rubble sighed and followed after him. He couldn’t help but recall the rebellious fifteen-year-old kid Duke caught stealing from a convenience store and took home to the Club like a stray pup.

Caine was a handful from the very beginning. In some ways, he was too naïve and in others too worldly for his age, but considering his upbringing, perhaps it was to be expected. According to Duke, Caine’s father was once a brilliant university professor until his paranoia regarding the government got out of control. Officially, he suffered burnout and was put on extended leave by the college where he taught. Moving his wife and two-year-old son out into the middle of nowhere, he adopted a survivalist lifestyle.

By the time Caine was six, he could track, trap and field dress a rabbit. It was probably heaven for a little boy who loved the outdoors, but it didn’t suit a woman used to spa days and mall shopping. Finally, his mother had enough and abandoned them both.

Her leaving triggered something in his father’s psychosis, and he became obsessed with teaching Caine all the skills he needed to live off the land while also keeping him isolated and unable to runaway. Controlling a strong-willed, independent child was never easy and, from the incident report Duke read, Caine often argued with his father. One such argument got heated and physical. During it, Caine pushed his father, causing him to fall and strike his head on a rock.

Officially, the death was ruled an accident, but that didn’t make it easier for a young boy struggling with the knowledge he inadvertently caused his own father’s death. It was also not something social services was prepared to handle either. Caine quickly fell through the cracks.

Who knows how long he lived on the streets? While others might have considered the boy a lost cause, Duke had other opinions. He gave the kid a room in the Clubhouse, meals included, in exchange for odd jobs and delivering messages around the compound. The Brothers took to him quickly, and he eagerly absorbed whatever he could learn from them.

Six months later, Caine asked to be a Prospect only for Duke to shut him down. Rubble remembered that conversation like it was yesterday.

“Why not?”

“Because no fifteen-year-old kid should be prospecting for a Club,” Duke answered. “Here is what you are going to do. You are going back to school, and you are going to graduate. And no skating by either. You are going to try your best and prove to me you got something between your ears. Then, we’ll talk about you prospecting. Got that?”

Rubble was certain the boy found brains he didn’t know he had and graduated valedictorian. After that, Duke agreed to let him Prospect on the grounds he attended the Tech School, after all a man should have a trade and their construction company was in desperate need for certified electricians and plumbers.

Fifteen years later, Duke still had high hopes, but the allure of the lifestyle began to seduce Caine’s attention. He continued to take his duties to the MC seriously, but lately Rubble wondered if it was time for an intervention. One way or another, Caine had to face his demons.