Corrupted by the Outlaw [#1 Blood Hounds MC]

3 | T H R E E

[WARNING: GRUESOME THEMES, VIOLENCE AND TORTURE. READER DISCRETION ADVISED. RATED 18+]

Isaac trailed his fingers along the countertop as he subconsciously counted the number of Blood Hounds within the bar. It was reckless, absolutely no self preservation had gone into the actions he'd partook in a week earlier. But he was unable to focus on anything other than soft pale skin and grey irises, needed to be injected into her life close enough to watch her but distant enough to indulge in those thoughts without consequences. He met the eyes of Hank Priest and sat back in his stool. "You found one of my boys?"

Isaac nodded, "Chained up, barely conscious." He kept to himself that he'd orchestrated the entire situation, having kidnapped the young prospect Hank was looking for and keeping him hostage until enough time had passed. Then he came in like the knight in fucking shinning armour, delivering the 20 something year old to their front step.

"You just happened to stumble across him?" Hank was not convinced, he was wary. He knew of the man sitting opposite him, having spent a few too many nights inspecting the slaughter and aftermath of Aldo Di Inferi. Therefore the VP of the club was sure of one thing, Isaac had not fallen far from the tree, he was born from violence and into violence. "That's some coincidence." Hank eye'd the bartender and the middle aged woman placed his regular down in front of him. "I'll give it to you boy, you got some nerve coming into this bar."

Isaac held back the curl that edged to wrap around his lips, "live above it actually."

This gained Hank's attention, not much went on this side of town that he was not aware of. The fact that he'd not known the devil beside him was currently residing above one of their main establishments, was a occurrence that would not go unpunished. "Heard about you, kid. I'm not about to get myself into any trouble with that old man of yours am I?"

Isaac frowned, "no. But, I know you watch me, Priest."

It was almost as if the entire bar had heard the hiss of his words, the chatter around them seemed to dull and Hank felt his fingers edge towards the hard metal on his hip. Isaac was right, he did watch the kid. Never seen a man fight the way Isaac did... Violent and yet somehow so meticulous and clinical, it was almost peaceful. Only benefits could come from having a man like that fighting on your side of the field. "My town, my fighting ring." Hank then said something that shocked both Isaac and his brothers around him, "patch in, become one of the Blood Hounds?" No one was simply just invited into the MC, they earned their place.

"Not my scene." Isaac replied.

Hank finally placed his hand on his firearm, prepared. "Something tells me your scene is anywhere death is, Isaac."

But Isaac was already one step ahead, with lethally quick movement he had the sharp edge of his knife sitting painfully close to Hank's carotid artery. His muscular thigh pressed hard against Hank's hand that held the handle of the gun, effectively rendering it immobile. There was silence in the bar as the brothers drew their own guns and aimed them at the complete maniac currently threatening their Vice President. "Should we test the theory." There was no question in the Isaac's words.

Hank was impressed. Sure he was treading the line between hell and the living, but fuck it, hadn't been this entertained in a long time. So he gave the bar the third shock of the night, following a close second to Isaac's blatant lack of concern when placing a weapon against the other man's throat. Hank grinned. It was large, uncomfortable and slightly unnerving, "I want you in the club irregardless, rather that sharp edge fighting for me than against me."

For a minute Isaac held his position, liking the sensation of skin beneath his blade. Then he remember that his little flower would not be impressed with a decapitated father. He withdrew, "not wearing a cut, Priest."