Chapter 1

~death~

Another fucked-up day, as usual. I sighed as I cleaned the blood off my hands. I stared down at the whimpering coward kneeling on the floor in front of me, begging for his life.

"Please! Please!" he kept repeating.

"Shut the fuck up," I said, a smile spreading across my face. "You and I both know you're not going anywhere. The only time you're leaving this place is in a body bag." I watched him whimper in fear, savoring the moment.

Now, Dean, let's begin, shall we?" I watched as he pissed himself, trying to skimp away from me. "Tell me what I need to know, and I'll make your death painless."

Dean whimpered, shaking his head vigorously. "I can't. They will kill me!"

I clicked my tongue at his statement. "Oh, Dean, I guess they didn't tell you. You're dead either way. My name is Death, and your little gang has messed with the wrong MC club. The Wild Ridge is not to be fucked with." I stared into his face as a look of horror overtook him. If he wasn't completely scared before, he was downright terrified now. I smiled down at him.

A few hours later, after lots of begging and pleading, I made my way back upstairs. As I reached the top, I came face to face with Lightning.

"Is it done?" he asked, giving me a steely look.

I just nodded and continued walking.

When I reached the front of the clubhouse, the rest of the guys and females were gathered, waiting for me.

"Is it done?" Ace asked, his eyes scanning my face.

I nodded, my expression giving nothing away. "It's done."

The tension in the air eased slightly as the group exchanged glances. Some looked relieved while others looked resolute.

Lightning stepped forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

"Good job," he said, his voice low and firm. "The Wild Ridge doesn't tolerate betrayal."

As the group started to disperse, I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to see Jax.

"You good?" he asked quietly.

I nodded again, though the weight of the day was starting to settle in. "Yeah. I'm good."

Jax smiled as he said, "Well, go get cleaned up then. You actually look like death!" He eyed me up and down, amusement flickering in his eyes.

I had forgotten that I was covered in sweat and blood. Making my way to my room in the clubhouse, I noticed most people avoided looking at me, likely due to my terrifying appearance. Their glances slid past me.

Once inside my room, I stripped off my clothes, the smell of blood and sweat hitting me hard. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime.

As I finished cleaning up, I decided to head out. When I reached downstairs, everyone was in the main area drinking and flirting with the club women.

I was just about to head outside when the most breathtaking sight stopped me in my tracks. A beautiful woman stepped through the door, slim with curves in all the right places. Her red hair blew in the wind, giving her an angelic look as she made her way inside the clubhouse. She moved with purpose, heading straight for the prez's office.

I couldn't take my eyes off her, curiosity and intrigue sparking within me. Who was she, and what business did she have with the prez? I watched as she knocked on the office door and disappeared inside, leaving me standing there, my mind racing with questions.

Instead of heading out, I decided to plant my ass at the bar and wait on the pretty redhead. Spider slid me a beer as I kept my eyes glued to the prez's door.

"So, Death, what's up?" Drifted asked, taking a seat right next to me.

I grunted in response, my focus unmoving as I sipped my beer. The clubhouse buzzed with the usual noise, but my mind was locked on that door, wondering what business the redhead had with the prez and who exactly is she.

"Seriously, Death, you couldn't have made a bigger mess down there in the cells. It's fucking disgusting. I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard," Ironhead shouted as he passed by the bar area.

I barely glanced his way, my eyes still fixed on the prez's door. "Just doing my job," I muttered, taking another sip of my beer.