Corrupted by the Outlaw [#1 Blood Hounds MC]

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Isaac embraced the icy wind that softly bit his exposed flesh, it sent a thrill of goosebumps up his spine as he perched himself nice and relaxed against a thick oak tree. The bordering forest sat innocently silent, opposite a warmly lit and dainty picket fenced white house. From his position he could watch as his little obsession danced about her nightly routine. He watched as she took her coat off in the opening of her living room once she'd returned from the club house. How she pulled on a soft yellow sweater he was sure matched her silky smooth skin in texture.

The man took a certain fascination in the way she made dinner, her delicate petite frame just a whisper moving around the beyond sickly sweet kitchen that had far too many fresh flowers. They littered the space with a scent that he knew had seeped into her pours, from years of being surrounded by them. And fuck did that scent drive him wild, a kiss of Gardenia always with a hint of Jasmine and Honeysuckle.

The first encounter had been innocent, she wore a knee high blue dress, the sun warmed her skin to the point he was sure that if he'd been closer a blush of sweat would've coated her form. What had him halting in his step has been the graduating cap on her head. She'd stepped out of a shop on the main street, bent down too graceful for a girl her age and taken in the scent of a row of roses that bordered the entrance of what he noticed was a flower shop.

Somehow Isaac forgot all about pulling his mother from another drunk intoxicated slumber, he instead found himself hidden in a crowd of cheering faces, as he watched the sweet girl walk across the stage and accept her graduating certificate. Lila Priest. He felt the hit to his stomach, even her name was pure, it was almost as if the man above was laughing down at him in glee. He knew he should've walked away, left the strange curiosity and simply moved on with his life.

But his booted feet remained planted firmly in the soil, he found himself transfixed on her as she laughed, smiled and enjoyed the celebrations. Then he saw her turn and run off towards someone in the crowd, the arms that wrapped around her may as well have been a big fuck off warning sign, because the tombs tattooed to each hand belonged to someone Isaac knew all too well. Hank Priest. The Blood Hounds vice president.

That was the final nail in the coffin, he thought humourlessly, amused that he was able to mock his own fucked up situation. Unfortunately that nail wasn't enough to keep him from involving himself with the motorbike gang. Sure he'd cop a beating from his father if ever the bastard was unlucky enough to be in his presence. Aldo Di Inferi was and always would be the real grime and dirt that walked this earth. Isaac's reputation was not just from his knowledge of how many ways he could take someone's life... no it was his last name that gained him the title of being un-fucking-touchable.

His mother had dropped him off at Aldo's front step when he'd turned eleven, his first interaction with his father had been the look of disgust on the older man's face. His second encounter had been a firm warning, "to live in this world, you kill, kid." The remainder of their interactions was a mess of broken bones, blood and trauma far too dark for a kid barely aged to embrace. Innocence was washed away with emptiness, leaving nothing but a numb need for pain in its wake.

By the age of seventeen, Isaac had killed more men then he could count on both hands. Puberty had hit him nice and hard, he was built to kill as his father liked to remind him. No longer was he a look of disgust, instead Aldo saw a prize in his fractured broken son. It was only when Isaac had seen his father take the barrel of a gun to a young girls forehead and shoot without a second thought that a semblance of reality kicked back in.

So he left. It hadn't been a walk in the park either, sadly for Aldo, he'd trained his kid too fucking well. With the groaning bodies of half his men on the ground surrounding him and the sharp blade of his very own carved knife pressed to his neck, Aldo gave into the boy. It was a loss, but he vowed in time he'd own Isaac again even if it truly did take his last fucking breath to do so.

Isaac had returned to his mother. Somehow in his cold reality, dealing with his mothers psychosis seemed to take preference over his fathers. Robyn had been too fucking high to even recognise her son the first time he'd stepped through the door, "you got any Black Pearl, sugar..." She had purred to him, without so much as flinching. He wished like hell she'd been talking about the fucking ship, but no, the woman thought he was a heroin dealer. That was the last time Isaac had made a wish.

At some point in her fits of withdrawal, Robyn gained clarity and realised the man beating up the suppliers that came to her house, was in fact her son. But the need was too strong and Robyn was a woman of habit, she needed the high. Isaac understood very quickly that he was alone. He found work as a tattooist during his days and the nights he got off in a underground fighting ring. A majority of the money he earned wasn't clean, nothing about what he did was really legal, but it was enough to afford a shitty run down apartment above a bar opposite a comedically out of place flower shop.

Though everyday since he thanked his lucky fucking stars that, that was his shitty little apartment and that the floral shop was located perfectly opposite his place. Because if it wasn't for all the darkness in his life up until that point he wouldn't have caught sight of his little flower. Yeah he borderlined his own special diagnosis of crazy, but what more could you expect from the genes passed down ever so generously to him...

Isaac gave himself some peace of mind these days however, he'd humour himself with a small thought. Lila Priest stalked him too, he was almost sure of it.

It hadn't taken him long to find out that Lila worked for a older couple that owned the flower shop since she'd been twelve, long before he'd found residence opposite. Though in the earlier years he wasn't a hundred percent convinced, the latter proved otherwise. She'd bought the store when she'd turned twenty-two, he'd often find her looking for him through the windows. She did so now more frequently then she had when she'd been younger.

He felt the corner of his mouth slightly rise as he thought of the way she'd water her pretty little flowers all the while racing her curious eyes along the length of his apartment... If that didn't send a thrill like no other through the devil in him he didn't know what would. It pleased him even more when she'd sit outside to tend to her books after expanding the business into a café, because he knew Lila purposely did it outside on the off chance of catching him entering or leaving his unit.

Isaac was a shadow though and it was rare for her to set her eyes on him longer than a few seconds. Despite his six foot five frame, the man blended in terrifyingly easily.

Even more so at night, Lila thought as she felt rather than saw, his eyes on her as she buzzed around her kitchen. A familiar sense of security washed over her while she made dinner. Lila had never been bold enough to offer him a plate, hell forget the food, she'd been far too damn wussy to so much as utter a word to the man that stalked her so blatantly. A small smile found it's way to her lips, blatantly for her knowledge only. She knew not a single outsider was aware of their wicked little routine. Her father included.

She was satisfied watching him and admiring the way his eyes glinted darkly from a distance. Lila persistently found all sorts of ways to be needed at the club house whenever their somewhat new President, Kai Carson, called for a meeting. This was because she knew he'd be there. Isaac was not a part of the brotherhood but he was well respected and valued. If their old president wasn't serving life in prison, she was sure outsiders would never have seen the inside of the clubhouse, let alone sit in on meetings.

She wondered just how much value and respect her family would have for her if they knew she'd fantasied fucking Isaac Di Inferi, all seven ways to hell every night since he'd killed a man who'd been foolish enough to lay their hands on her. Though she could never confirm it or risk being found out by her father, Lila knew Isaac killed for her. That knowledge was dangerous, it made her feel alive and full of dark, hot need. It never surprised Lila though, their infatuation with one another was never healthy to begin with.

Because true to Isaac's suspicions, she'd seen him first...