The Rampage MC #3: Atlas and Joy

Chapter 11 (Atlas): A Furious Glance

When Joy took Stian's hand and followed him out of the clubhouse to go for a bike ride, it had taken Beard, Chain and three other brothers to hold me back. And they had to work hard to keep me contained.

"Calm the fuck down, you asshole," Beard kept saying, his hand eventually gripping my throat in a way that got my attention. "You got no say in what she does, brother. No say."

"I fucking claimed her!" I protested when he let up on my throat.

"We're a lot of things, Atlas, but we're not the kind of fuckers that ignore a woman's right to choose," his intense eyes were telling me to get my shit together. "She chose not to be claimed. You can't do fuck-all about it."

"The hell I can't! Just let me get my hands on that fucker!" I was bellowing in my president's face, and I knew he wasn't going to put up with that for long.

I was right.

He got right in my face. "You might want to think about who you're talking to like that. I'll lay you out flat you don't calm the fuck down, Atlas."

"They're gone, Prez," one of the prospects called out to Beard from his post at the clubhouse doors.

"Let him go," Beard said to the four men holding me.

Just as I started to brush past Beard to head out on my bike to find Joy, he stopped me with a hand to my chest. The man might be almost thirty years older than me, but he was strong as fuck.

"Where you going?"

"I'm going to find her and bring her back here."

"You're going nowhere. She told you to get this kitchen spotless, and that's exactly what you're going to do."

"Prez, come on," I pleaded, and I realized I was so fucking desperate I was almost whining. "Get the prospects to clean this up. I've gotta go find her --"

"Look at what you've done to her kitchen, Atlas. You. That girl works her ass off to keep it perfectly neat and clean in here. I don't think the biggest tight ass at the health department itself could find one violation in here. And now look at it. You fucking destroyed the place because you thought it'd be a good idea to fight Stian in a motherfucking kitchen."

I looked and my stomach dropped. There was shit all over the place, blood on the floor and smeared against the cupboards, glass all over the floor and broken dishes everywhere. Garbage was all over the room and the fucking coffee grounds were on almost every surface. Shit was knocked over on the counters and a couple of cupboard doors were hanging off their hinges at awkward angles.

"You're lucky she just told you to get  this place spotless by the time she got back. She could have shot you in the foot for what you've done to her kitchen. So, no. I'm not going to call in the prospects to help your sorry ass. You want to start a fight in the kitchen, you can damn well clean it up yourself and maybe you'll think twice before destroying someone's pride and joy."

He walked out of the kitchen and announced loudly, "Nobody helps him clean it up."

And so I began the three-hour job of cleaning up my mess, keeping one ear cocked at the door, hoping to hear Joy's voice when she came back. But hour after hour, I was disappointed. Then I was concerned. Then I got pissed again, wondering where that bastard took her for so long. A hotel?

My body ached with each move I made, and I wasn't sure if it was from the fight with Stian tonight or the fights yesterday with the four assholes I'd pounded on for offering Joy their dicks right before she went off on everyone. They wouldn't be making that mistake again with Joy and nobody else would dare to after seeing them carrying the marks of my lessons.