Spike’s Perdition (Saints Purgatory MC #7)

2. Spike

CHAPTER 2

SPIKE

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

I sneer at the man hanging from chains in the Confessional. He’s not our typical victim because we, as a club, didn’t seek him out for sins committed. But he’s a sinner, nonetheless.

“I want you to admit what you did,” I snap.

He points his toes in an effort to touch the floor and stop swaying, but he fails. I’ve got him strung up just high enough to give him false hope that he can somehow save himself.

“I was drunk,” he insists.

Swinging as hard as I can, I hit him in the chest with the baseball bat. The sound of ribs cracking sends a tingle of satisfaction down my spine, although I’m surprised there are still ribs to break.

“Alcohol isn’t an excuse for being a sexual predator.”

“You won’t get away with this,” he says, his breath coming in short pants.

“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong. I can get away with anything. It’s you who can’t.”

He opens his mouth to argue some more, but I’m sick of hearing his voice so I swing the bat one last time, connecting with his skull. His head lulls to the side as he sputters blood and takes his last breath.

“Go forth, sinners' souls, from this world. May you suffer in darkness, may your home be in Hell, and may the Devil fuck you with his horns.”

The prayer we say after each purge brings me little comfort. The moment I saw this fucker walk into Purgatory last night, I knew he was gonna be trouble. I wasn’t expecting him to try and force himself on a female customer in front of the entire bar, but he did. It amazes me that I can still be surprised by some human’s behavior.

As I walk out of the Confessional and to the elevator, the adrenaline from the purge begins to wear off, and a weird sense of melancholy settles over me.

Things have changed since I patched into Saints Purgatory. My brothers seem to be falling like dominos and getting hitched while my life remains the same. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything, but I find that, lately, I crave something… more .

When I reach the main level and the elevator door opens, I square my shoulders and make my way to the bar.

“Jacob, go clean up the Confessional,” I order.

“What about the bar?” he asks. “I’m the only prospect here, and Soul put me on bartending duty.”

I glance around the room until my eyes land on Frenzy’s old lady. “Yo, Heather!”

She turns from her conversation with a few of the bunnies. “What’s up?”

“Mind covering the bar while Jacob handles some club business?”

She smiles as she walks across the room and behind the bar. “Sure thing.”

I return my attention to the prospect. “Get to cleanin’.”

“You got it.”

Jacob rushes to do my bidding, and as soon as Heather steps behind the bar, she gets me a beer. I carry it to my room so I can shower off the sinner’s blood. As soon as I return to the main room, I get another beer and start making my rounds.

It doesn’t take long to get tired of being social, and I find myself planting my ass on a bar stool, drinking more and more beer to dull my increasingly sour mood.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan.”

I don’t even look at Rogue as I roll my eyes and continue nursing whatever number beer is in my hand.

“If you’re talking about Glitter,” I say, referring to the newest club bunny. “She’s not my type.”

I may be tired and antisocial tonight, but I’ve seen Glitter staring at me in the mirror’s reflection for at least the last half hour.

And she’s exactly your type.

Rogue snorts. “Since when?” he asks as if reading my mind.

Giving up any hope of being left alone, I spin on my stool and glance around the room, pretending to look for someone. “Where’s your better half?”

“Skye’s at Purgatory,” he says. “And even if she were here, she couldn’t save you.”

“Save me from what?”

Rogue grins. “Me, Glitter, yourself… Take your pick.”

Downing the last of my beer, I groan. “Don’t you have something better to do than give me a hard time?”

Rogue simply shakes his head and stalks away, leaving me to marinate in my sour mood. I have no idea how much time passes or how much more alcohol I pour down my throat, but my head begins to spin.

“Hey, Spike.”

I don’t bother looking at Glitter as her voice swirls around me like the smoke from a bonfire in the Fall. She trails her nails down my arm, and my cock responds despite my brain’s warning to ignore the sensation.

“Must have a lot on your mind tonight,” she purrs. “It’s not like you to get sloshed.”

“Not ‘loshed,” I slur.

Glitter spins me around, and it takes all my willpower not to slide off the stool and crumble to the floor.

“Why don’t you let me help you to your room and get you settled in?”

I command my head to shake, but it has a mind of its own, and I nod. “‘Kay.”

She slips her arm around my back and helps me to my feet. I’m a big guy, and most women wouldn’t be able to hold my weight, but Glitter is tall and stronger than she looks.

When we reach my room, she grabs my hand and pushes it to the sensor that opens the door. The fact that I let her lead me around like a puppy dog is a testament to how drunk I am, but my dick doesn’t seem to get the memo.

Traitor!

Glitter pushes me down on the bed, and then begins to strip. I’m vaguely aware of my clothes being removed from my body, and somehow, I manage to pull myself together enough to enjoy when she straddles my hips.

“Fuck, Spike,” she moans. “You feel so damn good.”

I thrust my hips in an effort to give her as much pleasure as I can, but I don’t last long. Whiskey dick is a phrase that gets thrown around a lot, but I’ve never had that problem.

Thank fuck.

Glitter must get off because she quickly rolls to the side and curls against me. I don’t know whether I pass out or fall asleep, but the next thing I know, my head pounds, and my mouth is bone dry.

I pull myself away from the woman next to me and glare at her. I have no memory of how I got to bed or why Glitter is here, but the lingering smell of sex gives me a sense of what happened.

“Get up,” I demand, shaking her awake.

“Hmm?”

“Get the fuck outta my room.”

“C’mon, Spike,” she says sleepily. “I’m tired.”

“Don’t care,” I snap.

She sits up and stares at me. “Are you really gonna kick me out after what we shared?”

I narrow my eyes. “What the fuck do you think?”

She holds my gaze for a moment before getting out of bed and grabbing her clothes off the floor. Glitter stomps to the door buck naked.

“You’re an asshole,” she bites out as she disappears into the hallway.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I mumble.