The Hellhound (Riders of Tyr #2)

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Chapter 10: Guilty Fears


Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I pace up and down in my room still hitting my head. Why? I knew it. If I came closer, she would be hurt. I am Rage, all I bring upon people is pain. All I have to offer is pain. I knew that would happen. She would be hurt. Hurt. Iris. I drive my nails over my chest again and again. She doesn’t want me near. I smell bad, I am dirty and filthy, I am a drunk and I am making her hurt. I am no good. Bad. Bad. Bad. That’s all I am. I don’t deserve her eyes on me. I close my eyes and I inhale deeply. I can still feel her weight on me, the curve of her perfect little body against mine. Her beating chest against mine. Her eyes so close to my face.

“Motherfucking psycho!” there is a pounding on my door that drags me away from her vision.

It is Bjorn yelling outside my room and I can hear there are other brothers with him. I go to the door and open it. Bjorn blocks the entrance eyeing me. His nostrils are flaring and his jaw is twitching. I like Bjorn. He is a true warrior, a loyal friend and fierce brother.

“Listen to me, fucking psycho.” he spits.

“Bjorn!” Runner is instantly at my side “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Bjorn gives no heed and he is in my face. I am swaying back and forth, rubbing my scalp with my palms frantically. The voices inside me are screaming wanting me to hurt him for talking to me like that. But he is a brother. And he is right. I know he is right.

“You keep away from Iris!” he warns me.

His words hit me like no pain could ever do. I know that was the right thing to do. But thinking that I would never be close to her again makes me leave a hurt growl. She felt so good, so perfect in my arms, so cozy and warm. How am I never to feel her again? Fuck! I must. I’m a psycho and I hurt her and she doesn’t like the way I smell, she knows I am bad.

"Bror.” Bjorn’s voice makes me look him in the eye “I like this girl and fuck me but my woman likes her, too. A lot. It would upset her if anything was to happen to Iris and I would rather rip your throat out before I saw Ava upset in her condition.”

My eyes dart sideways as I bite my lip relentlessly. I keep swaying back and forth and mess with my hair in confusion. I am a fucking mess and that’s what made Iris faint, the freaking mess I have in my head.

“Come on, brother.” Bjorn dares come closer as his voice loses his threatening tone “She is a good girl.”

I stand still and look in Bjorn’s eyes. I know what he really wants to say. “She is too good for you”. She is. Goddamn it but she is. I am damaged and broken and a verified psycho and should keep away. My lips are twitching fiercely and I fidget nervously but I manage to nod before passing him by and enter the bar. I go straight to Tor that is talking business with a Mexican guy. When the stranger sees me approach in the state I am, he looks around nervously.

“Talk to you, bror?” I ask the King.

“I got some business here, Rage.”

“No, no, Tor. We cool, man. As we said. All is cool.”

“OK.” Tor gets up and gives his hand to the man that has one eye on me.

The Mexican leaves quickly throwing glances my way. Tor chuckles and points at me to come closer.

“I keep forgetting how easy it is to close a deal when you are by my side, Rage. What do you want?”

“Next run.” I say “I want in.”

“No need brother. It’s regular, vanilla stuff. We got a few more guns to turn over to the Russians but the pakhan made sure we won’t be disturbed. No need to send the Hellhound on this one.”

“Next run.” I slam my hand on the table “I am in.”

Tor gets up and eyes me angrily but I am beyond my sense at that point. Tor glances over my shoulder and when I follow his look I see Runner and Bjorn standing there. Bjorn nods. Runner looks at me with the usual tense face he has when it comes to me. He then looks at Tor and nods as well.

“Fine. Whatever.” Tor say “Ironhand and Vik are back tomorrow. You ride with Runner once they report in.”

I nod at Tor and then go straight to the bar. Wood hands me a bottle and I go to my table. I sit down and pour whiskey down my throat. My look is pinned on Bjorn. I am letting him know that I am staying the fuck away from Iris. As far as I can. All the brother does is lift his chin my way and I know that my gesture is appreciated.

“What the fuck happened?” Runner asks towering over me.

What the fuck happened? I chuckle cruelly and down more alcohol to dull my pain. What always happens. People around me get hurt. People always got hurt. The more I care, the more I fuck them up. I bend backwards and I hit my head on the wall.

Rage. I am Rage. My blood boils and agitation is built inside me. Runner is still over me but I have not the heart to tell him I am damaged goods and nothing he does can save my sorry, condemned ass. I run my hands through my hair back and forth. Nightfall is upon us, music is pumping louder by the minute and the flock of rotters come streaming in. Vince brings me a beer to clear the whiskey and then drink some more. Of all the brothers, he is the only one to compete with me when it comes to drinking.

“Fuck it all, brother!” he hisses in my ear “We are fucking wackos, might as well enjoy it.”

And I do just that. Not enjoy. There isn’t a goddamn thing in my fucking life to enjoy. I see her eyes when she saw me across the street and drink. Her startled face when she dropped the garbage bag and down more. Her fucking soft voice as she talked to me and I finish the bottle. And as I think how she felt in my arms, as her arm grazed my chest, her cheek on my shoulder, I spot Candy sitting at the bar.

I make my way to her and drag her to the hallway along with a bottle. Like an obedient lap-dog she follows me and she is on her knees even before I turn to her in the darkness. She unbuckles my belt as I am downing more whiskey, the liquid pouring down my chin. I close my eyes and Iris’s vision comes flowing before me. When Candy’s skillful mouth wraps me tightly, Iris’s lips come to mind and I shake violently.

“Fuck, baby.” Candy says “I have never seen you so hard.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I grab her hair and shove my dick down her throat.

She whimpers. As Iris whimpered when I came closer. And that thought stabs me in the heart and drains my lungs. She is scared and disgusted of me. Iris, my Iris. I drink some more and feel hot tears burn my eyes. I keep whipping my hips into Candy and I growl in agony, feeling disgusted and spent as I come in her mouth violently with a mixture of tears, snot and whiskey trickling down my chin. I let myself slide all the way down till I am on the floor, my knees bent and my elbows on them. Candy is still there on her knees looking at me.

“Baby?” she dares.

I turn my hazed look on her and I look deep in her eyes. I pour down a sip, go slowly for my cigarettes and light one. I take one long drag and then turn back to Candy.

“Get the fuck away from me.” I say.


“Get the fuck away, Candy.” I whisper and that is the first time I have ever used her name.

Candy pouts her lips but gives no other reply. She just gets up slowly and straightens her little dress. I hear her high heels clicking as she leaves me there on the floor. I finish my cigarette, throw the bud away and then get up slowly and painfully. I rock from one side to the corridor to the other taking me too long to reach my room. I turn the knob and got in the cold, bare room. I stumble to the bed and fall on my back, spilling the rest of the whiskey on me in my stupor.

“Iris.” I say before spiraling down into a troubled sleep.

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