Jase (Kings of Korruption MC Book 3) (4 page)

 “
Bryce,” I call. “Supper’s ready.”

I move to the
fridge to pull out the milk and butter. It’s been three days since
Paul dropped Bryce off, and it’s time my son and I have a little
chat. His attitude the last couple days has been off, and I intend
to get to the bottom of it.

Poking my head
out the door, I look into the living room and find Bryce still
sitting on the couch, playing his video game. “Bryce! It’s supper
time.”

I can
practically hear his eyes roll. “God, Mom! I’m playing a game. I’ll
get some later.”

I don’t give
him another chance. Marching into the living room, I hold my finger
over the power button to his PlayStation. “Now.”

He scrambles
up to the edge of the couch, eyes wide. “Okay, okay. Jeez.” I give
him the couple of seconds he needs to save his game before I press
the power button. Bryce drops the controller onto the couch and
walks by me, eyes narrowed in a hateful expression that I’ve never
seen on his face before.

Following him
to the table, I take my seat and spoon out some mashed potatoes
onto my plate. Bryce’s face is pinched and narrow as he starts
plating his own food. “How was school today, Bud?”

His nostrils
flare as his lips barely move. “Fine.”

The hatred I
feel rolling off him cuts me to the bone. I know something’s going
on. This isn’t like Bryce. He’s always such a sweet kid. “What’s
going on?”

“
Nothing,” he growls, not meeting my eyes.

“
Something’s obviously going on. You don’t act this way, and
you’ve never been so hateful to me. Talk to me. Tell me what’s
going on.”

His fork lands
on the table with a loud clink before he pushes back his chair and
jumps to his feet. “Jesus, Mom. Nothing is wrong, other than the
fact that Dad was right. You are a nosy bitch.”

I don’t know
who’s more shocked at his words, him or me. We’re both frozen, eyes
wide as we stare at one another. I’ve never hit my child, but right
now, it’s taking every bit of willpower I have not to slap his
filthy mouth for talking to me this way. My voice is low and my
eyes are hard when I say, “You need to go to your room, right
now.”

He doesn’t
argue. He quickly leaves the table and rushes off to his room,
quietly closing the door behind him.

I don’t know
what to do. My entire body shakes with adrenaline as I try to
figure out how best to deal with this.

Bryce and I
have always been close. I’ve rarely ever had to discipline him
because he tends to always be thoughtful and well-behaved. So why
is he suddenly being so hateful? Well, I guess I have my answer.
Paul’s getting into his head by bad-mouthing me.

I take a
moment to pull myself together before I get up from the table and
head towards his room. I don’t bother knocking before I enter.

He’s sitting
on his bed, his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

I close my
eyes and take a deep, cleansing breath. “We’ll get to that in a
minute. I want to know what else your father has said about me.”
Bryce’s eyes drift off to the side, but I don’t miss the fear in
them. “Now, Bryce.”

“
He said that you baby me too much, and because of it, I’m
never gonna turn into a man. He said that you’re a nosy bitch that
wouldn’t know a good time if it jumped up and bit you in the ass.”
His eyes swing back to me and fill with tears. “And he said that
you’re an Ice Queen, and that’s why you haven’t managed to trap
someone into marrying you.”

Using the most
carefully controlled tone that I can, I ask, “Do you believe those
things are true, Bryce?”

His eyes widen
and his head swings from side to side. “No.”

I concentrate
on my anger. I can’t let the rage I feel towards Paul get the
better of me. “Do you believe you have the right to say those
things to me and call me the names your father has taught you?”

His chin
quivers as he shakes his head. “No.”

“
I want you to collect your iPod, your PlayStation
controllers, and your Wii remotes, and I want you to put them on my
bed.” His face falls, but he does as I ask. Taking his electronics
away is like certain death to this kid. “Bryce?” I wait until he
gives me his full attention. “I love you so much, but I will not
tolerate you speaking to me that way. It won’t happen again… are we
clear?”

He nods, his
jaw set and his eyes wet. “What your dad said about you wasn’t very
nice either.” A tear slips down his cheek then. Moving closer, I
wrap my boy in my arms and squeeze him tight. “He should never have
said that stuff to you. And he’s wrong. You’re a good kid, and
you’re going to be a better man than any other I’ve ever
known.”

My heart
breaks for my boy. Paul’s going to hear from me on this. What kind
of man berates a kid and his mother like that? Not any kind of man
I want around my kid, that’s for sure. Pulling back, I hold him at
arms length and look into his tear-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry he
hurt you, Bryce.”

“
I’m sorry too.”

CHAPTER THREE

Jase

I
t’s been three
weeks since Gunner gave me my six-month deadline, and since then,
I’ve been busy. I’ve been in this garage, working day and night to
put out my best work, and it’s paid off. After only three weeks,
I’ve built an incredible custom motorcycle from scratch. Not only
does she look gorgeous, but I just got back from her first test
run. She drives like a fucking dream.

I step off the
bike and lean her over, onto the kickstand. Stepping back, I place
my hands on my hips and smile down at her. Damn, I’m good.

A low whistle
sounds out from behind me. Turning, I see Reaper leaning against
the door, looking at my girl. “Jesus, Jase. This is fuckin’
beautiful.” He steps inside and runs his fingers along the custom
fender. “By far, your best work yet.”

A sense of
overwhelming pride fills me. I’d built bikes before, but I’d always
taken my time, and only did it as a hobby. But this time, I’d
thrown everything I had into this build, determined to show the
rest of the club that I’m taking this seriously, and that I’m not
as shallow as they think.

I pull off my
helmet and grin. “Thanks, man. Have a possible buyer comin’ by
tomorrow afternoon to take a look.”

“
Fuck, that didn’t take long.”

I shake my
head and set my helmet on the nearby tool bench. “Gonna be sad to
see this baby go, though. I fuckin’ love this bike.”

“
Then what the hell are you sellin’ it for?”

I give him a
pointed look. “Gunner gave me a deadline. I intend to show him, and
the rest of you fuckers, that I can do this.”

Reaper smirks.
“Fair enough. Seems a shame to let this little beauty go to some
yuppie collector.”

My heart
twists a little. I’d thought the same thing. The thought of my baby
collecting dust in some rich guy’s showcase garage makes me sick,
but he’s willing to pay a lot of money for this bike, and I’d be a
fool to turn it down.

“
It’s fucking criminal, but if the crazy bastard’s willing to
pay me, who am I to complain?” I walk over to the light panel and
start switching off the lights. “I’m in the mood to celebrate. You
in?”

“
What’d you have in mind?”

I flick off
the final light and we step outside. “I haven’t been laid in over a
week, man. Let’s go find some fresh pussy.”

Reaper’s lips
twist up on one side. “I have to go check out the wiring on one of
the security cameras at Chrome.”

Chrome is one
of several nightclubs owned and operated by the Kings. It’s always
packed on Friday nights, and is exactly the type of place I need to
go to celebrate. “Let me grab a quick shower and hose this grease
off, then we’ll go.”

The beat of
the music thumps in my ears and vibrates the windows of the
businesses surrounding the nightclub. We approach the club and walk
right past the long line of people waiting to get in. The bouncer
nods in greeting and steps aside.

Chrome is run
by the Kings, but it’s managed and cared for by Pimp, a brother
known for his ruthless business sense and his well-managed crew of
sexy waitresses. Aside from the bouncers, every employee in this
club is female, and every one of them look sexy as hell in their
tiny little uniforms, but we all know better than to touch a single
one of them. Pimp may be a brother, but he protects his girls like
a hellhound. You don’t fuck with Pimp’s ladies.

Reaper and I
move straight to the raised VIP booth overlooking the entire club.
The booth is always empty and available for members to use whenever
they want. We each order a beer and survey the dance floor.
Scantily clad women fill it, dancing with their arms raised up in
the air, every one of them here for the same reason that I am, and
that is to have a good time.

I watch a
tall, beautiful brunette woman reach for her friend’s hip. The two
of them laugh and holler as they dance together, slightly offbeat
from the music. I’m about to make my move when a tall preppy guy
comes up behind her and kisses her neck. Taken. Fucking
figures.

He takes her
hand and leads her off the dance floor. I’m just about to turn away
when I see the group of ladies that were hidden behind them. My
heart jolts. Ellen’s dancing in a tight circle with two other
ladies, a wide smile spread across her face. I haven’t seen her
since the night at the Pig’s Ear three weeks ago.

I watch her ass sway and bounce to the beat
of the music, my dick hardening and pressing tightly against the
zipper of my jeans. I can’t take my fucking eyes off her. She looks
amazing. She was fucking gorgeous in scrubs, but seeing her long
legs and tight-ass in that little black skirt makes my heart skip a
beat.

“Don’t even think about it, man.”

“Think about what?”

Reaper snorts. “Charlie asked you to stay
away from that bitch. It’s one woman, so pick a different one.”

I cast my eyes back to the dance floor and
watch as Ellen swivels her hips and laughs along with her friends.
Charlie had told me to stay away from her more than once, and so
far, I’d listened. But I don’t wanna do that anymore. For months
I’ve flirted with her, yet, for the most part, I’ve kept my
distance.
Sorry, Charlie
.

“Come on, Reap. Look at those other bitches.
Be a decent fuckin’ wingman, would ya.”

“I’m not anyone’s wingman. I can find
bitches all on my own.”

I shrug and throw my hands up. “Your loss,
brother.”

Ellen

I’m so glad
Julie convinced me to come out tonight. She hasn’t been for a visit
in months. She’s only here for the weekend, but it’s been so nice
to have someone to talk to. Things with Bryce have calmed down over
the last few weeks, but he’s still not acting like himself—not by a
long shot. I know something’s bugging him, but he hasn’t been as
miserable as he was after his last visit with his father.

Paul on the
other hand, has been a giant pain in my ass. He calls every day,
sometimes five and six times, arguing with me and demanding to
speak with Bryce. He’s furious that I won’t let him take him out. I
won’t even let him visit. After what he said to Bryce, and the way
he’d grabbed my arm that day, I don’t want him anywhere near either
one of us.

He’s
threatening to take me to court and fight for full custody and even
though, deep down, I know he’ll never win, I’m still terrified. I
know the courts would never take Bryce away from me entirely, but
they may force me to allow Paul visitation rights, or possibly even
give him joint custody. How could I protect Bryce from him
then?

Earlier this
afternoon, Bryce had been invited to a friend’s house for a
sleepover, and I’d been quick to say yes. Anything to make him
smile again. He hasn’t been defiant or nasty, but he has been
sullen and moody. It worries me. He hadn’t been out the door five
seconds before Julie had turned to me with a wicked grin and said,
“Let’s go out tonight.”