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Satan's Fury MC Boxed Set: Books 5-8 by L. Wilder (23)

Prologue

Mike

 

“Well, look who we have here,” Baker snickered as he sauntered into the room with several of his hood rats following close behind.

My eyes skirted over to him and my chest tightened into a knot as I watched them file into the room. Baker was a big brute, weighing around two sixty with muscles protruding through his orange jumpsuit, while I was a tall, puny fucker who weighed a buck fifty with boots on. I was scared out of my damned mind, and rightly so. I knew what was coming. I’d seen it too many times to count, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was stuck. I hated that feeling of helplessness and had always done my best to avoid it at all costs. I thought if I just kept my mouth shut and avoided all the roughnecks, I would be able to stay off their radar. But keeping off the grid in a place like this was damn near impossible. The GH Juvenile Detention Center was no place for a kid like me, but like a line of dominoes, the choices I’d made had landed me behind bars. I thought I was slick, that I wouldn’t get caught, but I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of damned things, and it’s one of the reasons I’d found myself in the boys’ bathroom surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves.

“You think you’re so fucking smart. You walk around here acting like you’re better than everyone else, but you ain’t shit!” Baker snarled.

Baker was a grade A asshole, and over his stint in juvie, he’d acquired quite a following. He and his cronies had a thing for fucking with anyone who was smaller or weaker than them, and with my scrawny ass, there was no doubt I was an easy target. He stood there glaring at me like some rabid dog, and I knew he had his mind set on annihilating me. I felt the walls closing in as I looked towards the door. My fight or flight instincts kicked in and I felt an overwhelming urge to get the hell out of there, but a couple of his goons were guarding the exit. There was no way out. Knowing I was cornered, Baker’s lips curled into a cold, heartless smile. There was no honor in fights like this. No code. It was simply the survival of the fittest, and I was damned from the start.

I swallowed hard and muttered, “I don’t want any trouble, Baker.”

“Nobody asked you what you wanted, you fucking pussy,” he barked as he slammed his fist into my gut. Before I had a chance to defend myself, he reared back and punched me again right in the damn nose. Tears filled my eyes as I stumbled and fell flat on my face.  As soon as my limp body hit the floor, he started kicking me in my side and abdomen causing me to curl into a protective ball. Bile burned at the back of my throat and the stench of piss and body odor only made it harder to resist the urge to puke. Laughter filled the room as I tried unsuccessfully to lift myself off the ground. Wobbling like a ninety-year-old heart patient, I didn’t get very far. My arms felt like lead weights and my legs were quivering from the pain, making it impossible to move.

“We gotta get the hell out of here. The guards are gonna come looking for us,” one of the guys urged. Their sneakers squeaked against the cold, concrete floor as they paced nervously back and forth. They were getting anxious, and I prayed they’d convince him to leave.

“We’ve got time. They’re dealing with Duncan,” Baker snickered. “Besides, I’m not done with our little computer freak just yet.”

Baker was right. Duncan, one of the more emotionally disturbed kids in our hall, had one of his meltdowns, and it would take them all to get him settled back down. They wouldn’t be coming anytime soon, and my hopes of someone coming to my rescue were completely squashed.

“I’m done with this bullshit. He’d not worth the trouble,” one of them grumbled as he walked out the door.

“I knew you were a pussy, but I thought you’d at least put up a fight.” Baker gave me a shove with his foot and snickered. “Come on, douchebag. Get up.”

I was down, but I wasn’t completely out. His words were like a spark, fueling the fire that burned deep inside me. I couldn’t give up—not just yet. Bruised and winded, I mustered the strength to stand. Anger exploded within me as I shouted, “Fuck you, Baker.”

I held my breath as I took a swing at him. Satisfaction shot through me when the contact made his head jerk back. I’d thought I’d gotten him good, but my sense of pride was short-lived as his balled fist collided with my cheekbone. Everything went blurry, and I lost my footing. In a matter of seconds, my face was planted back on the bathroom floor. It was pathetic.

Baker lowered himself down on top of me and brought his mouth over to my ear. He whispered in a raw, guttural voice, “Is that all you got, pussy?”

I struggled against him, shooting my left leg out as I tried to get him off me, but I just wasn’t strong enough. His hands moved up to my neck, wrapping tightly around my throat as he spat, “Where ya trying to run off to, freak-show? I’m not done with you yet.”

I felt him reach into his back pocket and froze when I heard one of the guys yelp, “Don’t Baker. You taking this too far.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Smith. I’ll decide how far this thing goes!”

I twisted and turned, trying my best to buck him off me, but he just pressed his weight down on my body, pinning me against the concrete floor.

“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Just let me go. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just let me go.”

“Oh, you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut or I’ll finish what I started.”

A burning sensation rushed through my side as the blade sank deep into my lower abdomen. He twisted the knife in his hand while sinking it deeper and deeper into my flesh. I tried to hold back my cries, but the pain was too much. My screams echoed through the concrete walls, causing everyone to scatter like flies. I lay there feeling my life drain from my body, and it was in that moment that I decided I’d never be the victim again.

It took some work, but I kept the promise I’d made to myself that day. As soon as I got out of the infirmary, the guards put me in solitary for the rest of my stint in juvie. Since they had no clue who had gotten to me, the counselors said I would be safer there. Once my wounds had healed and I was back on my feet, I started working out – hours upon hours of push-ups and squats, along with any other damned exercise I could come up with in the confines of that little room. One of the guards noticed what I was up to, and thinking it would be good for me, he gave me access to the weight room when no one else was around. When I walked out of that detention center six months later, I’d gained the muscle I was after, and that’s when I realized Baker actually had done me a favor.

It was only two years later when I found myself behind bars for the second time, only now, I was six-foot-four and two hundred and seventy pounds of muscle. I was stronger, mentally and physically, but that didn’t mean the guys didn’t try to fuck with me. It was no secret why I’d been locked up. I was different, knew things these men didn’t understand, and they sure as fuck didn’t like it. Computer hacking wasn’t exactly a crime a typical thug understood, and the unknown brought a level of fear, a fear I learned to use to my advantage.

It was after dinner, and I was heading back to my cell when my attention was drawn over to the cell next to mine. It was Jacob’s cell, the only person I ever really talked to in this joint. He was a decent guy – for a gun trafficking murderer – and talking to him helped pass the time. When I stepped inside the cell, Tank, one of the Hispanic gang members, had Jacob pinned to the wall with his fingers wound tightly around his neck. I knew I didn’t need any more violations added to my record, but there was no way I was going to let him fuck with Jacob.

I stepped closer and growled, “Drop him.”

Without loosening his gripe, Tank turned to me and spat, “This isn’t your fight, asshole. Get the fuck out.”

“Not leaving until you let him go.” I looked over at Jacob, and though he’d never admit it, he was struggling. The veins in his neck were bulging, and even through all his tattoos, I could see that his face was turning blue. “Now, Tank.”

His eyes glaring with anger, he snarled, “You just signed your own death sentence, motherfucker.”

I took a step forward and slammed my fist into his ribcage over and over until he dropped his hold on Jacob. I reared back my closed fist and slammed it into the side of his jaw, causing him to lose his balance and fall back against the cot. He shook his head, trying to shake off the confusion, but I didn’t give him that chance. I grabbed him by the neck, squeezing him tightly around the throat like he’d done Jacob and said, “This is over, Tank. You wanna know why it’s over?” When he didn’t answer, I continued. “Because if you even look in his direction, I will end you. I’ll beat the goddamned life right out of you, make you beg for me to just let you die, and then I’ll fuck with you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. And not just you, Santiago Rodrigues from Fallbrook, California. I will fuck with everyone you have ever known or cared about, and you’ll never even see me coming. Got me?”

He nodded, and as soon as I released him, he scurried out of the cell like a wounded rat.

I turned to Jacob. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t think so.”

As I started back towards my cell, Jacob called, “Yo, Big.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re supposed to be getting out next week, right?”

“That’s what they’ve been telling me.”

“You headed back home when you’re released?”

My mind involuntarily drifted back to my father. He’d always held on to the hope that I’d give up computers and hacking, that I’d find a new focus. I tried, but nothing could surpass the thrill I got from sitting behind that screen. I got a high from pushing limits, ignoring boundaries, and succeeding at things no one else could. It was my obsession, and I was getting better with every click of my keyboard. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one getting better. The world of technology was changing and becoming harder to crack, and one mistake would cost more than it ever had before. My father knew the risks and warned me about them time and time again. After I was arrested the second time, he’d made it clear that I wasn’t welcome back home. He was done trying to make me different.

“Nope. Nothing there for me.”

“You should head up to Clallam County. Got some friends there you should meet. I think they could use a guy like you.”

“A guy like me?”

“You and your particular skill set might come in handy, but it will be up to you to convince them of that.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You’re just gonna have to trust me on this one. Go out on Highway 61 and turn left at the fork on Millbrook Road. Drive about five miles and you’ll see an old warehouse off on the left. Pull up to the gate and ask for Cotton. Tell him Nitro sent ya.”

 

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