Sons of Mayhem 2 Chaser (Sons of Mayhem Novels, #2) (12 page)

I frowned. “Why the fuck is he writing to you?”

T-Bone laughed. “You jealous?”

I glared at him. “Whatever he says, it’s bullshit. He’s a sneaky, lying motherfucker.”

Gauge raised his eyebrows at me. “A sneaky, lying, boyscout mother fucker?”

I couldn’t help but grin and nod.

Bottle turned the envelope over in his hands, looking at each side before finally opening it. He slid out a yellow piece of paper from inside that had clearly been ripped from a legal pad and his eyes began to run over it.

I saw Gauge concentrating on Bottle, a frown on his lined and goateed face. “Let me guess. Fuckhead wants to trade her for Red?”

Bottle slowly nodded as he continued reading the letter. A chill ran down my spine as I looked at the serious faces of the four men around me. They wouldn’t actually trade me for their boy, would they? Maybe I should just run.

But shit, I’d just spent the night with Bottle. That had to count for something, right? He wouldn’t screw me and then, well, screw me, would he?

I felt butterflies in my stomach. It wasn’t exactly easy to trust people when you’d had a life like mine, and Bottle and crew weren’t exactly beacons of respectability. Maybe I should run.

But how far would I get? And if I made it out of the clubhouse where would I go? I had no cash on me, no home to go to, my car was wrecked and there was no one to call.

Shit.

I’d put my lot in with the bikers, and now it was time to find out whether I’d made the right choice, or whether I’d be traded like a piece of meat.

Bottle finished reading the letter and carefully folded it in half. “Gauge, T-Bone, we should have a talk about this. You,” he nodded his head at me, “you’re going to have to wait a while, if that’s okay.”

I suddenly felt chilly. Night was coming on, the booze had worn off, and my tight t-shirt wasn’t cutting it any more. But that wasn’t the only thing; I was also getting increasingly nervous. Would the bikers continue to help me, or would they give me up as a lost cause and trade me for their prospect? I shivered.

Bottle glanced at me as I shook. “Don’t worry. We’ll work this out. Come on, you need to wait back here.” I examined his face but I couldn’t tell if his frown was due to concentration as he thought things through, or whether he was having darker thoughts.

He reached out a hand to me, and I took it as I stood up on legs that felt far weaker than they should have. Bottle gave my hand a squeeze, though his grip wasn’t as firm as earlier, as he led me through the clubhouse to an unmarked door at the back. I glanced over my shoulder back at the table, where T-Bone was unwrapping a bagel while talking to Gauge, their voices inaudible under the roar of rock music rolling across the room.

One of the bitchy looking girls from earlier watched me being led through the clubhouse and shook her head at me, clearly pissed off that I was heading out back with Bottle again.

Although I felt like crap I still gave the bitchy girl a shit-eating grin in return. She’d no doubt be pleased when Bottle returned without me in a minute or two. I could imagine her smirk already.

After we left the main room of the clubhouse we entered a dimly lit hallway with a number of doors leading off it. We stopped by the third door and Bottle pulled out some keys from the pocket of his jeans, quickly sliding one into the padlock that kept it secure, no doubt from ‘lost’ hangers-on and visitors to the clubhouse, perhaps looking for a more secluded place to fuck, or, for the even more foolhardy, something to steal.

I leaned against him, as he opened up his room, still shivering as he pushed the door open and reached for the light switch.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be back soon.”

I turned back toward the door but it was already closing as Bottle disappeared back into the dingy hallway. The door closed with a click, and I listened intently, praying I wouldn’t hear what I knew I would.

After a second or two it came. The sound of metal brushing against metal and then a
click
, as he locked the padlock and secured me inside the room.

I slumped to the floor with a sigh, my back sliding down the door. With my knees pulled up against my chest I let my head thump down into them.

Well that choice was made for me. I wouldn’t be running away any time soon.

What would happen next? I was now locked in the
Sons of Mayhem
clubhouse, and they had just received an offer to trade me for one of their own. Was that it for me? I knew if they handed me over to Dewey that’d be the end for me; if I was lucky I’d end up dead.

If I was unlucky? I shuddered at the thought.

B
ottle

Bottle squeezed the padlock together and it locked itself with a chunky click. He felt bad about it, but they couldn’t have her pulling a disappearing act now. They needed her to get Red back.

Shit, if he’d left it to Gauge she probably would have been locked up in the storage shed outside - she wouldn’t have been the first to be locked in there.

But no, he was nice guy Bottle, so she was locked in his room instead. He just hoped she wouldn’t trash it.

T-Bone and Gauge were sitting on one side of the table, the yellow letter laid out in front of them. Bottle didn’t go to the head of the table, that was Jase’s spot whether he was there or not, but instead he sat across from them on the other side.

“All right, you read it, thoughts?”

T-Bone let out a hacking cough to clear his throat before speaking, “Should we call the prez?”

Bottle swallowed. Should they? Should they call Jase? He looked over at Gauge, trying to read his face, but as usual it was impossible to read what the man was thinking. The ex-military man was as inscrutable as they come.

Bottle steepled his hands in front of his face, took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He looked up at Gauge and T-Bone. “I’d like to sort this out ourselves, before they come back. I’d like to show that I can do this, y’know?”

Gauge nodded. “We can fix this, no need to worry the boss.”

T-Bone cleared his throat and nodded. “Okay. I guess it’s not worth calling Jase yet.” His eyes ran from Gauge to Bottle. “So what are we going to do?”

Bottled placed his hands down on the big hardwood table in front of him. “Well, we sure as shit ain’t doing what Dewey-Dickface says.”

The other two men nodded but didn’t laugh. Gauge flexed his right hand as if to relieve an ache then squeezed it into a fist and pushed it into the palm of his left hand causing his knuckles to crack loudly. “First, I don’t trust this shithead. If he just wanted the girl, why didn’t he just kidnap her instead of Red?”

Bottle nodded. “Yeah it doesn’t make sense. But remember, she said she thought he was fucking with her. Y’know, riling her up by kidnapping her new
boyfriend
. Shit, the fucker thinks he’s using us to get at her. There she is, running to us for help, and then we flip her over to them — dashing her hopes, destroying her spirit, all that good stuff.”

Gauge and T-Bone nodded. The ex-soldier squeezed the fingers of his left hand into a fist before cracking those knuckles too. “Well, by snatching Red he fucked with us. Even if we didn’t give a fuck about the woman,” he paused to give Bottle a pointed look, “we’d still be lying down like pussies if we allowed the kidnapping of Red to go unanswered. That shit ain’t right. We didn’t let the Mexicans fuck with us, we sure as shit ain’t going to let one whole-wheat-bagel-munching-boyscout-fuckhead treat us like his bitch.”

T-Bone growled in agreement as Bottle smacked the table. “Couldn’t put it better myself big man,” he said. “So how are we going to do this?”

Gauge raised his right hand to his goatee and rubbed it thoughtfully. “I’ve got an idea.”

Bottle grinned at him. “Let me guess, fire?”

T-Bone and Gauge chuckled. “Not this time. Although...”

Bottle laughed. “Fuck that. What’s the plan?”

Gauge looked Bottle up and down, as if to appraise him. “How do you feel about waiting under a camo-tarp with a rifle for about 30 hours?”

Bottle raised his eyebrows. That didn’t sound like fun at all. “Sounds like military shit to me...”

Gauge let out a low chuckle. “Sure as shit is. I’d love to do it, but I’ve got the security shit to deal with while Jase is away.

“So what’s the plan?”

The older man dropped a toothpick into the corner of his mouth and gave a grin as he chewed. He was clearly enjoying rolling his idea over in his mind.

“Our boy scout friend has told us exactly when and where to meet. We’ve got 36 hours until then. That fucker is on his own and trying to look after Red.” He paused. “At least we hope so.”

“So?”

“So, he’s setting himself up for a trap. He’s not as bright as he thinks he is. His letter had some bullshit warning about not trying anything funny, but there’s no way in hell he can monitor a kill-zone that large all on his own, for 36 hours straight.”

“Kill zone?” asked Bottle.

Gauge let out a throaty chuckle. “Yeah. Kill zone. You remember how to use a rifle?”

Bottle sighed and nodded.
Thirty fucking hours hiding? That’s some torture bullshit right there.
“Yeah I can still shoot.”

“Can you still hit a target at 400 yards?”

“Unfortunately,” he said with a shake of his head and disappointed laugh.

“Well alright then. That’s the plan. We’re gonna slip you about 400 yards away from ground zero. You’re gonna hike up there, no storming up there in a jeep bullshit. If you’re there early enough the fucker will never know you’re coming.”

Bottle nodded. The plan made sense logically. But thirty hours lying in wait? That was some bullshit of the highest order.

Gauge let out another low chuckle as he saw the displeasure on Bottle’s face. “Let’s drop by my place and get some supplies, we’ll put some wings on the plan while we gear you up. Then it’s time for you to get your wait on.”

“Fuck.”

“Don’t give me that shit. I did it for twenty goddamn years. ‘Hurry up and wait’ was 90% of the job.”

Bottle and T-Bone rolled their eyes. Gauge had always done everything bigger or better, harder or longer, more painfully or more exhaustingly. The
really
annoying thing was it was never bullshit. He never made a claim he couldn’t back up.

“Alright give me a few, I better tell
her
,” he nodded his head through the walls, “what’s going on.”

Gauge nodded. “Be quick. The sooner you get there, the safer you’ll be.”

More like the sooner I get there the longer I’ll have to wait.

***

K
aren

I sat with my head in my hands worrying about what was going to happen. Why should they care about me, a virtual stranger? Surely their own, Red, came first. He would be their top priority.

But, I reasoned with myself, Dewey would be making them look weak if they just traded me for Red. They wouldn’t want that, would they?

Then again, Bottle was just in charge while their president was away. Maybe he’d prioritize keeping all his men in one piece over maintaining their tough image.

I sighed.

But last night. Last night would mean something, wouldn’t it? The passion we’d felt for each other wasn’t just in my imagination.

But maybe that’s all it was. Passion. A hole to fuck. How many other women had there been? A dozen? A dozen dozen? The way the chicks hung around the club it was clear that he could get a piece of ass pretty much whenever he wanted.

Is that all I had been? A pretty piece of easy ass? No. No way. I
felt
something with him. I did.

I didn’t hear the key in the lock and didn’t realize he’d come back until the door thudded into my back.

A yelp escaped from my lips in surprise. I’d completely lost track of the time.

I scrambled to my feet and the door swung open as Bottle came in.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be there,” said Bottle with a quizzical look on his face.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“We’ve come up with a plan. I’ve got to disappear. The boys will take you to Dewey tomorrow.”

My heart plummeted. I felt the color drain from my face. What had he just said?
Taking me to Dewey?

“What?” I whispered.

“Oh shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

He reached out an arm and clapped me on the shoulder.

“I mean, it’s a plan. A trap. You’re gonna’ be the bait, I’m afraid. We need to make it look like we’re going through with the deal.”

A thousand thoughts ran through my mind. I’d have to see Dewey. Meet him. Fuck.

“Can’t someone else do it?”

My request was futile but I felt I had to ask, had to try. Anything to avoid meeting Dewey again.

“That wouldn’t work, would it? He
knows
you. Pretty damn well, right?”

I nodded. He was right of course.

“You cool?” he asked.

Another nod. “I’m cool.”

I was not definitely not cool. Any ‘plan’ that involved me meeting Dewey was not something I wanted to happen.

Bottle reached an arm and wrapped it around me. I put my arms around him too in response.

I needed to fell him, to hold him, to know the truth. I felt that would be able to read his body and know if he was lying about the plan, know if they simply intended to trade me.

My mouth lifted and I offered my lips for a kiss. He accepted and then our mouths were pressed together as one and his hand was grabbing at my ass again.

He broke it off.

“Sorry. I’ve got to get going.”

I let out a disappointed pant.

“The plan. It sucks. I’ve got to go to the meeting point — well, half a mile or so away from it — and lay a trap. Thing is, I’ve got to get there
really
early. Like yesterday.”

I nodded, not knowing whether this was the truth or whether he just wanted to get away from me because of guilt. I hoped to God it was the truth. But I wasn’t a trusting girl, not then, not after what life had thrown at me the last few years.

“You have to go now?” I raised my eyebrows at  him. If I could have him one more time I’d know for sure, I knew it. I’d know if he was telling the truth. Or whether I’d just be traded like a hunk of meat.