Tank POV

Another day, another grind. All the days are starting to blend together. The same routine, same bullshit, same petty drama. I first came to this place when I was seventeen and it quickly became a refuge. Who would think a bar full of burly men and fierce women would be a safe place for a kid? A kid who had to grow up sooner than he wanted, but some people just don't have a choice.

Five years later and I'm considered a veteran of Hades' Soldiers. How fucked up is it that in other places, I'd still be seen as a young adult, probably barely finishing college. Here, though, I'm a seasoned member. I've been through hell and back and given a lot of blood sweat and tears to this life. 

If I could go back, I'd do it all over again. 

After just getting back from a run in Nebraska, Pistol and I headed to our sanctuary. Pistol is the second youngest in the club other than myself making us allies and I guess you could say friends. We both have felt the pain of loss and the anger that follows. We have both been molded into men a lot earlier than the average man.

We pull up to our favorite place other than the house we share not far from it. Saints and Sinners. I never really liked the name of the place, but once you're in there, it doesn't matter. This is where my family spends most of their time and by family, I mean the club.

The amount of fear and respect in people's eyes whenever I enter an establishment is a rush. I was always a tall, lanky kid due to the lack of food in my 'home'. Then, I became a part of this brotherhood, and I quickly added some meat to my bones. With that new found muscle and anger for everything wrong in my life I became an enforcer for the club. An even bigger rush for me is not only showing of my size, but proving it can do some damage. 

When we enter the club, we are greeted by fellow brothers, old ladies, and other various patrons of the place. There's always some club rats trying to hang on, get a piece of any brother they can sink their teeth into, but I make sure to stay away. I didn't grow up in the best way, but the short amount of time I spent with my mom, I was taught how to treat and respect women. I don't have anything against what these ladies are doing, but I'd rather not be caught up in some sort of drama. A lot of them like to stir shit up. There are bigger things to worry about and I'd rather wait for someone special anyway.

After we're greeted by everyone up front, we head to one of the back rooms. It's where our president spends most of his time. He says it's because he's getting older, he'd prefer the peace and quiet as much as he can. I don't believe him. Even though he's been like a father too me since I came here, I've never seen him truly happy. It's probably because he's the head of what some would call a "gang", I wouldn't call us that, but I can tell there's something else going on in his head. You can observe a lot when you're not drowning your life in club pussy and booze. 

I know my president, Ghost, and I are closer than most of the others, but even he won't tell me or his vice any of his personal problems. Our vice president, Blaze, knows a little of his past thanks to being his sister's partner for awhile. Katie, Ghost's sister, is pretty much another mother. No one could ever replace my own, but she's a close runner-up. She's always made sure the brothers are taken care of, and tries to keep the club rats tamed. 

I walk into the room I know Ghost frequents and find a couple brothers along with our vice in there as well. They are relieved to see us home, not matter how much they try to hide their emotions. It wasn't a dangerous run this time, but I think they see us all as their sons and worry about any of us that are on the road. 

"Heard we missed a hell of an anniversary, boss," I say to Ghost. Him and his old lady, Denise, have been together forever. To be honest, I don't see their relationship being real. I think she's more invested than he is. Ghost just coasts along when it comes to her. Almost like he was forced to be with her and couldn't get out of it. 

Look at me an my observation skills at it again...

"Yeah, it was alright..." he says, sounding unconvinced. "My sister took plenty of pics if ya want to see. Not sure how it matters to you since you keep your little pecker in your pants." he jokes. Of course everyone is going to laugh, but I can see through his deflection. I'll let him put it on me though. Whatever has him this way, he seems to be having a hard time holding it down right now. I won't waste my time questioning him. I know I wouldn't get answers anyway.

"So...how did everything go up there?" Blaze asks. "Any connections to those missing girls and those fucking pricks up there?" Those pricks being the Renegades are an appropriately named group of the worst kind of men. They're a pack of outlaws and full of the scum of the earth. They're everything we stand against and we've been slowly trying to take them out. The past couple of months, young girls are going missing in northern Colorado and up north in Wyoming and Nebraska. They are the only club in the surrounding areas, so it's pretty easy to tie this to them and their trafficking scheme. 

With a sigh, Pistol says "those shitheads are real good at covering their tracks, but we can't find a reason any other club would be a part of this. Even the cartel is looking innocent compared to them." I run my hands through my hair in frustration. The fact that we came home with zero evidence pisses me off. It makes me feel like I can't do my job. I feel useless. We don't tolerate the kind of sick shit these one percent clubs partake in, and it feels more than gratifying when I get to bring it to an end. I wouldn't call any of us saints, but I don't think we're monsters either. We're the ones that try to keep the real monsters at bay. It's an ugly line of work, but someone has to do it. 

We spend the next hour or so trying to plan some more ways to catch those fuckers red handed. We don't get very far since we just got back and Pistol is more keen on relaxing and finding his next victim of the night. A few minutes later we hear a prospect barging into the room with a frustrated look on his face. 

"Uh, Prez? we have a situation going on out front," he wheezes. This prospect better work on his endurance if he wants to stand any sort of chance here. It's not even 100 yards from here to the front so the fact that he's dying now makes me roll my eyes. I don't here much noise outside of the ordinary outside so I'm wondering what he's talking about.

"What the fuck kind of situation are you on about, kid?" Ghost says in a snarl. I know he's not very happy about the idea of having to intervene in what is most likely a small and pointless issue.

"Th-there's a girl out front, boss. She's asking Everest to let her in to talk to you or Katie." Everest is a bouncer that has worked here pretty much since the beginning of time. He's a large man, as big and unmovable as a mountain and appropriately named. "Her and the boy she's with are underage, but not taking no for an answer," he says in a worried tone. 

"If it's no one special and they are kids, just remove them physically. I don't see how fucking difficult that is!" Ghost shouts. His patience has reached it's limit with this poor, pitiful prospect and I am very happy to not be in his shoes. "You can get the fuck out of here now, boy," he adds before turning around and pouring a drink.

The prospect doesn't budge. The balls on this child. I guess I'm a little impressed. "Sir, she...uh..." he takes a deep breath. "She is asking for you by your real name, boss." Well, that gets the attention of the room. No one in their right mind would ever ask for him, especially using his real name. Hell, hardly anyone knows what his real name is. I know I'm one of the handful that knows, but it's only because I was under his care till I became legal and saw the paperwork that showed his name. Maxwell LeDoux. I don't know why he hates his name, but the few people that know it, know not to ever use it. Only his sister uses it and it's when she's pissed at him. 

Ghost pinches between his eyes and I can see the vein in his head threatening to explode. He then takes a deep breath with his eyes closed. He has a hard time reigning in the beast when it wants to come out. I think that's part of why he prefers the quiet in here with a small group of people he can trust. 

"If this turns out to be some little bitch that is trying to lie about a relationship we have, I'm going to take it out on you, got it prospect?" he says in his no bullshit tone. Now I really feel bad for this kid. I sure as hell hope it's not bullshit now.

Ghost slams his glass against a wall in his usual fashion and starts heading to the door. We've gone through a lot of them due to the high level of testosterone in this place. No one even flinches at something like that. It's sad that we're used to it, but it's our life. Everyone glances at one another and I know we are all interested in seeing what is going on up front so we follow his lead and head out. 

Walking up to the front we pass the usual hustle of an evening at Saints and Sinners. Getting closer to the front I can see Everest's head and the annoyance on his face. It isn't the first time some girl came in claiming to be in love with the prez or any other higher up just so they can get special treatment. I think that's why we all took this with a grain of salt at first, till we learned she was using his real name. 

I'm still only paying attention to Everest's head as we draw closer before Ghost stop suddenly almost making me walk right into him. He's as stiff as a board and we're only about five feet away from Everest now, so I don't know why he stopped. Being right behind him I can't see what made him stop so I nudge Pistol over so I can see ahead. 

The sight before me was unexpected. I'm used to seeing a girl in skimpy clothing trying to get free drinks for a night and putting up an argument with Everest or whoever else is manning the front. What I saw before me was nothing short of an angel. Silky porcelain skin and rich brown hair. She wasn't dressed to impress, looked more like a comfort thing, but my God...she looked like the purest thing in the world. I turned my head to look at Ghost to see he was staring at her too. 

He looks like he's seen a ghost. Ghost seeing a ghost...hilarious.

I turn to look at her again and notice she's seen him as well and the look on her face now matches his. Both of them staring at one another with their bright green eyes. 

Holy shit, wait a minute. I know green eyes are rare and shit, so it can't just be a coincidence...

It feels like forever till our vice clears his throat and snaps both Ghost and the little angel out of their daze. I see a blush reach her cheeks and I feel my chest constrict. I'd like to see that blush in a more private setting, that is for sure. 

She takes a small step forward to get closer to Ghost before she pulls out a little Polaroid picture. I can't make much of it, but can see there are two people in it. Then I hear the best sound I've ever heard in my life.

"Maxwell LeDoux? I'm, um..." her voice is smooth and a little deeper than I imagined. It's the most beautiful fucking thing I've ever heard, that's for sure. "My name is Fleur...Fleur Jackson, and I think you're my real father." Everyone around us that was paying attention let's out a small gasp. 

Shit just got real.

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Hey there. Thanks for reading! Sorry this chapter is slightly shorter. Next chapter we get to see the same interaction plus more in Fleur's POV.

Happy reading ❤️