Rage is the residential psycho of the club. Tormented by his own demons he lives in pain and agony, a constant state of rage. Everyone knows him as the Hellhound of the Riders of Tyr , known for his cruelty and the joy he gets from causing pain. To...
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Rage
I can't sleep and I don't drink. We are going to ride early in the morning and I want to be sober so I can get back as quickly as I can. All I want is for this run to be over and then be back to Iris. Runner asked me if me on the edge, more than usual, has something to do with Iris. I told him I don't know how I feel about Iris and I was honest. What I do know is that I want to be close to her, just look upon her, make her feel safe. And maybe have her touch me again. And when my fucked-up brain would co-operate I would talk to her and let her know that she is the single most beautiful thing I have seen in my wretched existence.
As I am making these thoughts, I hear Runner's phone ring into the next room. I get up. It is well past midnight and I don't have to be a paranoid outlaw to know that it isn't good. The phone rings a few more times but I am already out the door and crossing the hall. I grab the doorknob and without knocking I open the door.
"Iris? Fuck!" Runner says into the phone.
The world goes red around me and my hand tightens around the knob ready to tear the whole door off its hinges. Runner instantly turns to me and his look is a mixture of agony and fear. He is building up courage to tell something bad. The thought crashes my heart and I take one step back trying to avoid reality. Something has happened to Iris. My Iris. My head is pounding and I stop breathing. My eyes are still fixed on Runner that hangs up and comes up to me with his face tense.
"Rage."
"What...?" I try but the word comes out as a hurt growl.
"Iris is taken."
The words ring in my head like ominous bells. She is taken. My Iris, my woman is taken from me before I even had the chance to talk to her.
Minutes after I am on the bike and I ride into the pitch-black night. There is an explosive mixture brewing in me and I growl loudly as I ride. There is rage alright, tons of it and I am already picturing what will happen to the man that dared hurt her. But there is also pain and agony so fierce that I barely stop myself from crying. I need her. She can't be gone. She is mine! Iris is mine!
After what seems to me like an eternity, I pull up in our street. It is dawn and the sun is up at the same hour she liked to look out her window. I throw my helmet down and push the door of the bar. My jaw is clenching and I tighten my fists. Tor is the first to react. He takes one step closer to me and holds his arm up to me.
"Brother, listen..."
There is nothing sane in me to talk to. All my focus is on Bjorn. I cross the room and lunge at him pushing him to the wall, carrying away all the tables and chairs in the way.
"Where were you?" I throw a punch.
Bjorn seems distraught and equally upset but I don't give a fuck. If he hadn't asked me to go away, none of this would have happened. I should have been there. I should have never left her. I snarl and another punch comes down onto Bjorn's face before I feel arms dragging me away. I don't even turn to look as I squirm to free myself but I know it takes at least three of the Riders to keep me from getting my hands on Bjorn again.
