Chapter 12 The Race
REID
The moment I step up to the entrance of the address Voss sent, two large-bodied men block my path. Both are dressed in all black, muscles packed beneath the fabric. They stand shoulder to shoulder, forming a wall.
“Voss invited me,” I say flatly. Their little intimidation performance drains me more than it threatens. They scan me slowly, sizing me up like they’re deciding whether I’m worth the trouble.
“Call him.” The one on the right orders.
The other pulls out his phone, dials, and keeps his eyes locked on me while he speaks. “Boss, someone’s here to see you… Name?”
“Reid,” I answer. “Reid Hades.”
Both men stiffen instantly, eyes widening in realization.
“Uh… b-boss,” the man stammers into the phone. “It’s Reid Hades. The Alpha prince.”
The call ends a few seconds later.
“Let him through,” he says at once. The both men move immediately, bowing their heads as they step aside.
“Apologies,” one mutters. “Just doing our job.”
I don’t bother responding. I simply walk through. Whether their fear is from my title as Alpha prince or from being the cursed rogue who killed his own mother, I don’t care. Both are true enough.
I push the thought down and focus on the concrete steps leading underground. The stairs drop into darkness the moment I pass the threshold.
Torches flicker along the stone walls, casting shadows over skulls piled in corners. Bats cling to the ceiling. The tunnel smells of gasoline and blood.
When I reach a gated steel door, two more guards wait. Unlike the ones above, they open it instantly, stepping aside without a word.
I walk through.
The underground space opens up like an entirely different world. Bikes are scattered everywhere. Hallways branch off to private rooms.
Males and females are indulged in drinks, laugh, smoke, fight, and sex, making out shamelessly in public.
“If it isn’t the Alpha prince gracing our night…” A voice drawls.
I shift my gaze to the left. Voss walks toward me with three guys and a girl trailing behind. He’s grinning around a cigar.
I’ve known Voss for a few years now, back at my biker’s club at the capital park before my banishment. He used to be a good ally.
“Good to see you again, Reid,” he says, clasping my hand before pulling me into a shoulder hug. He pats my back once before letting go.
The girl beside him drags her eyes over me slowly, eyes darkening with interest. I ignore her.
“How’s Northlands treating you so far?” Voss asks, that familiar mischief shining through his dark eyes.
“So far, so good.” I reply.
“Good,” he says, nodding in approval. His smirk deepens. “So, you want to join my biker club? You know, it’s an honor… having the leader of one of the most powerful clubs in the realm asking for a spot in mine…”
“I didn’t ask, Voss,” I cut in, reaching for a drink from the tray of a half-naked server walking past. I take a sip, watching him over the rim. “You invited me. I accepted.”
His grin stretches wider. The woman beside him smiles, impressively.
“This is why I respect you,” Voss says. “You don’t sugar-coat. You speak exactly what’s on your mind. A brave male.”
He turns to one of the guys beside him and mutters something in his ear. The guy nods and walks off.
Voss looks back at me.
“As you know,” he starts, “every biker club has its initiation. Mine’s simple. I don’t like complications for new members.” He taps ash from his cigar. “To follow protocol, you race one of our best riders. You win, you earn your place.”
I nod. “Is that all?”
Voss raises a brow, taken aback by my response. He moves closer to me and whispers. “This guy is a fucking beast in the fast lane, Reid. Don’t underestimate him.”
I nod again. “Let’s get this over with.”
Voss just stares hesitantly at me for long seconds, then shrugs in surrender.
“Alright then.” He looks over his shoulder to his small group. “Come on, guys. Show’s on.”
In a few minutes, everyone is up and I am led to the underground fast-lane.
The fast lane stretches ahead, wide and dimly lit by harsh strips of neon fixed into the walls. I'm impressed by how good Voss pulled all of this together.
“That’s Jacob.” Voss gestures to a huge, buffed up guy standing only a few feet away from me with another small group. They seem to be cheering for him.
“He’s the best we’ve got around here. It’s going to be tough, man. But I’m rooting for you, okay?” He then pats my back and takes a few steps backwards.
“Mount your bikes!” He orders.
I move towards my bike and climb, my fingers curling around the throttle. Beside me, I glance at the guy I’m racing, as he swings his leg over his bike confidently.
He snaps his helmet on, and the crowd erupts.
They chant his name like he’s already won.
“Give us a good show!” Someone screams over the roar.
The signal goes off.
I twist the throttle.
In a second, my bike launches forward. The tunnel becomes a blur of screaming voices and streaks of firelight. The other racer rides aggressively, overtaking me in a beat.
Spectators bang against the metal barriers as we tear past. I don’t increase my speed. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about races, it’s that playing the rule of a tortoise wins.
Slow first, save energy. Then speed up when your opponent starts to slow down.
We ride for a couple of seconds, before I notice the guy trying to overtake me again on the first sharp bend.
This time, I switch to my beast mode. It’s about time.
Immediately, I shift my weight, just enough to make him think I’ll lose control. His engine growls beside me, and he pushes harder.
Mistake.
In a second, I cut into the inside lane, inches from the concrete wall. If I’m off by a second, I’ll shatter every bone in my body. But I’m not.
The tunnel spits us out into a straight stretch. He falls behind.
I don’t look back.
The finish line approaches, marked by nothing more than two rusted metal poles and a small group of bikers holding up flaming torches.
I cross first.
The noise explodes in cheers.
I hit the brakes, letting the back tire skid, then stop the bike. When I pull off my helmet, I meet Voss’s eyes from where he’s standing with that girl from earlier.
He looks thrilled.
The guy I raced rips off his helmet, panting, annoyed.
I swing off the bike, breathing hard as I try to catch my breath. “That good enough?”
Voss’s grin widens. “Welcome to the club.” He moves to me and drops his arm over my shoulder, leading me away. “Also, I’ve got news.” I notice the excitement in his voice has dulled.
“What news?” I ask.
“Raven just called. I don’t know how he found out that you’re with me, but he insists on seeing you.”
I stop cold to my feet. “Raven? My brother?”