Sin & Suffer (Pure Corruption MC #2)

“Why do you hate your son so much?” I whispered, fearing his answer.

Rubix chuckled. “You never guessed?”

Never guessed? “No.” How would I ever guess something so wrong?

“He was supposed to be like me. Instead, he was like her.”

“What?” My forehead furrowed. “Like her … your wife?”

“Yes,” he snarled. “So fucking soft. She was always so meek—riddled with indecision and then later with disease. Arthur was supposed to make me proud—but all he did was make me a laughing stock.”

“All because he preferred to use his brain over his fists? Because he chose to go to school instead of smoking crack with the rest of the lowlife prospects?”

Rubix tucked my hair behind my ears. “No, pretty Buttercup, because he chose your family over his own.”

My stomach ruptured. “He didn’t choose us over you. You gave him no choice. Arthur wanted to be good rather than follow morals he didn’t believe in. That doesn’t make him soft. That makes him strong.”

Stronger than you’ll ever be.

He bared his teeth. “He was mine. His blood was mine. His destiny was mine. But then you and your fucking kinder-than-thou family stole him from me.”

“We didn’t steal him. We loved him. Just like you should’ve—”

Rubix fisted my hair. “How could I ever love someone who could settle for second best? How could I tolerate my own flesh and blood thinking he was fucking better than me because he wanted diplomacy over violence?” His face turned puce with rage. “Our world is governed with fists not democracy. Arthur refused to follow my orders. He was a fucking pussy and no son of mine.”

Had Rubix ever loved his son? Was that all it took for so-called love to turn into bitter resentment?

Perhaps there was hope. Perhaps Rubix hurt because he felt Arthur abandoned his family. Perhaps they could reconcile and whatever awful misunderstanding could end. Even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t possible. Too much time had passed. Too much hate had gathered.

“Don’t do this, Scott,” I implored, keeping my voice low, controlled.

You’re wishing for a miracle.

Standing tall, he grabbed my hips. The stiffness of his erection dug into my ass. “Do what?”

The bikers snickered as Rubix rubbed disgustingly against me.

“Hurt me to hurt him.”

He laughed, running his fingertips up my rib cage. “Now where would the fun be if I didn’t?”

I squeezed my eyes as Cobra muttered, “You heard the prez, you’re ours now. Ours to do whatever the fuck we want with.”

My breasts ached from being pressed so hard against the table. The awful metallic taste from being drugged never left my tongue. I wanted nothing more than to slip away from this part of my life and pretend it never existed.

I hated myself for being weak. I hated that my strength to escape dwindled by the second. But helplessness didn’t stop me from searching inside my compartmentalized brain, begging for the gift of amnesia to sweep me away and save me.

If I couldn’t run physically, perhaps I could run mentally.

Like I did all those years ago.

Hadn’t I endured enough at the hands of this man?

Hadn’t I paid whatever debt I owed?

“Do you know what your father planned for me, little princess?” Rubix’s fingers stroked my spine, digging into each vertebra. Each pinch left a resounding bruise on my flesh.

“He planned to teach me a lesson. To cut me from the Club, all because I had balls big enough to imagine a better way of life than he ever could.”

His touch slid over my ass, tracing my thigh and disappearing up the hem of Arthur’s T-shirt. “He was weak, your father. He believed in redemption instead of retribution. He believed in leniency instead of law. And look what happened to him.”

The men chuckled.

My eyes stung with unshed tears. My father had been a good man. Despite his chosen lifestyle and rule-breaking, he’d been kind and generous and loving.

This man … he was just a coward, a snake, an insect.

“Can you see the irony, princess?” Sycamore said. “Can you see how soft that motherfucker was?”

Cobra jumped in, ensuring I wasn’t stupid enough to miss their punch line. “Your father was a pussy and now he is dead.”

Rubix’s fingers skirted higher; repulsion tugged on my gag reflex. “Your father didn’t deserve this Club. And my son didn’t deserve me as his father.”

“Just me, Prez.”

That voice.

It sliced through the heavy stares and whipped around me with filth. I sucked in a breath as the owner ducked by my side and stared into my eyes. “Hello, baby Cleo.”

My cheek ached from kissing the table but it faded as my blood washed with wrath. “You.”

Arthur’s older brother grinned. The family resemblance was strong, with matching aquiline noses, symmetrical features, and sculptured lips. However, Arthur had prominent cheekbones that stretched his tanned skin, turning him ageless, whereas Dax “Asus” Killian had full cheeks and a dimple on his chin.

I bared my teeth. “I hoped you were dead, Asus.”

He grinned. “Didn’t you figure it out already? Life doesn’t care about your hopes.”

He looked pudgier than last I’d seen him—sitting too long on his butt hacking innocent people’s laptops with his own Asus computer. That was how he earned his nickname—by being a geek with bad intentions.