Sons of Mayhem 2 Chaser (Sons of Mayhem Novels, #2) (3 page)

Nothing. He wasn’t there, thank God. I took a deep breath and scanned the doors, making sure they were all locked. They were.

I took another deep breath and gripped the steering wheel tightly, safe for the moment. I let my head rest against the wheel as I breathed in and out, calming myself. I felt sweat trickling down my body and realized I was roasting in there. The sun was well up now and the inside of the car was rapidly becoming an oven.

I cracked the window, but not enough to let a hand through, not today. I started the complaining vehicle with a twist of the key and then I made a stupid decision.

I drove to the cops.

B
ottle

Jamie “Bottle” Smith parked his motorcycle outside the clubhouse and headed inside with a large brown paper bag under his arm.

“Morning,” said a man with shoulder length blond hair, standing at the counter with his right arm wrapped around the waist of a young lady sitting on the counter. It was Jase, the new President of the Sons of Mayhem. He had been unanimously elected after the previous president, Bigfella, had been locked up for a bullshit crime. Unfortunately he wouldn’t be getting out any time soon.

The corners of Jase’s mouth creased upward and there was a twinkle in his eye as he spied what was under Bottle’s arm. “Got something for us?”

“Sure do.” Bottle gave them a friendly grin as he walked over to the couple.

“Nice!” said Nicole, Jase’s ole lady, as she hopped down and gave Bottle a peck on the cheek. “Let me see.”

“Have at it, guys.” Bottle handed the bag over to Nicole, who took it with a smile and opened it with Jase.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” Jase asked.

“Nah, I had a couple before. I knew they would get snatched up as soon as I came inside.”

Bottle gave a tight-lipped grin as Jase smacked him on the shoulder. “Cheers, brother.”

Nicole’s voice came out muffled. “Thanks.” Her mouth was already half full of a sugared jelly from Jester’s Donuts, Farmington’s newest unhealthy breakfast outlet.

“What time you leaving?” Bottle asked, raising his eyebrows at Jase.

“Just as soon as Lonnie gets here. Should be any minute now.” He paused, as if reconsidering. “Well, and as soon as we’ve done some real damage to these donuts, anyway.”

Bottle laughed, and smacked his president on the shoulder.

Jase’s face turned serious for a moment. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I could let Lonnie go it alone, and stay behind, if you want.”

A faint surge of resentment ran through Bottle as he wondered whether Jase really trusted him to keep the club going while he was away. It was only going to be for a couple of weeks, what hell could go wrong?

And anyway, it was thanks to Bottle’s plan, which put most of the local drug trade under their control, that the club was now not only out of financial straits, but actually cash flow positive and with a growing stash in their safe.

“No problem. We’ll be fine. You guys have fun.”

Jase nodded. “I know you’ll be fine, I just don’t want you to think that we’re leaving you in the lurch, while we go off and have fun with the rock stars.”

Bottle shook his head and grinned. “You know I don’t like Limeys anyway. You have fun with the British guitar monkeys, Prez.”

Jase let out another laugh. Bottle was going to be left in charge of the club, as acting vice president, while Jase and Lonnie coordinated security for a series of shows a British rock band was doing across the Southwest.

While the club and its associated security company didn’t have enough regular guys to run security for the tour, they had spent the previous couple of weeks recruiting a ragtag group of bouncers, security guards, former football players and a few bikers from the Ragers, a club in nearby Armingdale they were becoming increasingly friendly with.

Jase and Lonnie had had a falling out over Lonnie’s rough treatment of Nicole a couple of months earlier with the whole traitorous debacle which had unfolded almost destroying the club, but now, thank God, they were back on speaking terms, and would be working closely together as Lonnie was the connection to the rock band, having grown up with the lead singer in England.

Since Jase’s promotion to president the club had not yet selected a new vice president. It was likely they would choose one soon though, and it would almost certainly be Bottle. That is, of course, unless he fucked everything up while Jase was away.

“While we’re gone, I want you to take a real good look at those two prospects.”

Bottle nodded. “Twist and Red, right?”

“You know it, brother. Our numbers are way down, and we’re going to need to bring a few up soon. They’ve both been prospects over a year. Test them a bit, will you? Make sure they’re the
good
kind of fuck-up. I’ve got half a dozen with me, but they need a few more months of prospect hell before we can bring ‘em up. Your two are up next, so give ‘em a final once over.”

Bottle laughed. “Sure thing. I told ‘em to be here early today.”

Nicole pulled a face. “Red is an asshole.”

Jase and Bottle laughed. “Yep,” they both said.

Jase turned to Nicole. “He may be an asshole, but he’s done his time as a hang about and as a prospect, and even you have to admit, he is a bit less of an asshole than he was before.”

Nicole just raised her eyebrows and shoved the rest of the donut she was holding into her mouth.

Outside the sound of an engine signaled the arrival of Lonnie.

“It sounds like her Royal Highness’s finest is here. We better get going.”

“Safe travels, Boss, Sweetness.”

The president and his ole lady laughed. They exchanged hugs with Bottle, and Nicole gave him a warm kiss on the cheek before they headed out.

Bottle watched them go and reached for the bag of donuts. He’d changed his mind and decided to have one more before the prospects arrived.

“Jesters? Sweet!” From out back another girl had rapidly appeared, half skipping and half running across the room. Bottle paused to admire her a moment. She was wearing skin tight jeans that had been slashed in a dozen places giving peeks of tanned calves and thighs and somehow seeming more revealing than if she’d just been wearing a miniskirt. Above the waist a tight, midriff bearing t-shirt revealed a flat stomach and breasts that strained to break free.

Before he knew it, Lucy was reaching into the paper bag, and a moment later her slender fingers flew back out clutching a chocolate ring donut. “Thanks, Bottle! Gotta run.”

Bottle turned to watch her leave, her tight jean-clad ass seeming to taunt him as it waggled away toward the door. Did she know she did that? Of course she did. “Later, Juicy!”

She waved a hand in the air without turning around as she disappeared out the door to join Nicole and Jase.

Bottle picked up the paper bag. “Dammit!” Bottle screwed up the empty paper bag and tossed it back onto the counter. He couldn’t believe they’d just finished off eight donuts.

The roar of motorcycle engines outside was briefly drowned out by the sound of an air horn. Bottle shook his head to himself. The air horn was going overboard, wasn’t it? Jase had attached it to his motorcycle after a run-in with a pickup truck driver who had claimed not to hear or see his motorcycle before almost running him off the road. No one would ever claim they didn’t hear him coming again.

Bottle glared at Twist, the young prospect wilting under his gaze. “Where the fuck is Red?”

“I told you, I don’t know. He disappeared with some girl last night. I dropped by his place on the way here, but his bike wasn’t even in the driveway. I thought he would be here already.”

“Well, until he shows up you’re going to be doing his share as well.”

Twist gave a nod of acceptance. Until he made full member he was a grunt.

“And you can start with the bathrooms.”

The greasy haired twenty-year-old blew air out of his lips in a silent sigh.

“Problem?” Bottle asked, raising his eyebrows at the younger man.

Twist stood up. “No problem, boss.”

Bottle watched as the young man clad in a Metallica T-shirt walked away, his posture slightly slumped.

It was uncharacteristically quiet in the clubhouse. Jase and Lonnie had taken a lot of the hangabouts and prospects with them, leaving the place feeling almost deserted. It was still early of course, but still. A few months earlier Bigfella would have been there, as he always was, and no doubt there would have been one or two party girls around from the night before hanging on his every word.

It was just too damn quiet. Bottle shook his head softly and checked the time on his cell phone. Where the fuck was Red?

K
aren

I sat across from the Sheriff regretting ever having come here. Not just here, the Sheriff’s office, but
here
the whole town of Farmington. My plan to head out here, so far away from the corn-belt where I was from, seemed increasingly like a mistake. This was one fucked up place. And who the hell put this idiot in charge of local policing?

“So your new biker boyfriend,” I could hear the contempt in his voice as he said the word
biker, “
made you a porno, and you’re upset? Those assholes do a lot worse than that, I can assure you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and
he
didn’t film us. It was someone else. My ex.”

“You’re into some real kinky shit, huh?”

My face was red and I was feeling far hotter than I probably should have in the air conditioned office. I was beginning to get really pissed off with this sorry excuse for a law enforcement officer. He seemed to have a bee in his bonnet about bikers, and couldn’t seem to understand a word I was telling him. It was like he had some kind of agenda as soon as he found out that I had been with one of the Sons of Mayhem. Well, a prospect anyway.

“We were filmed in secret. This was
not
some kinky game. And there’s more... After the video of us, there was a shot of Red. Just a few seconds, but he was tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth. I think he’s been kidnapped.”

The sheriff had one corner of his mouth raised in a weird kind of smile that screamed
creep
to me. He chewed his gum as he looked at me, shaking his head. What the hell was wrong with this man? I was reporting a possible kidnapping and he didn’t really seem to give a fuck.

“Bondage too huh? This some of that BSMD shit I read about? You people make me sick. So where is this video? Are you going to show it to me?”
It’s BDSM asshole
. The sheriff had an almost lecherous look on his face as he asked. Even if he wasn’t interested in the kidnapping it didn’t seem like he’d have a problem
investigating
the video.

I sighed. “I told you, I forgot it. As soon as I saw it, I ran out of my house. I was terrified. My ex is crazy, a real psycho, I got in my car and I came down here as fast as I could.”

The dark-haired sheriff tapped his fingers on the table as if in thought. “Here’s what I’m going to do.” He leaned forward towards me, his sour breath hitting my face and causing me to lean back in my chair.

“I’m going to send my deputy down to your house with you. We’re going to check out this video, and see if we think there’s any chance of a crime. It sounds to me though like your new boyfriend is messing you around.”

I nodded. I must’ve told him half a dozen times that the man I was with last night was most definitely not my new boyfriend, but the sheriff didn’t want to let it go.

The sheriff was an asshole, I decided.

––––––––

T
he deputy followed me into my little house. He was much more personable than the sheriff, thank God. He actually sounded like he might believe me.

I led him into my small living room where my notebook computer sat on my chair.

I looked at the machine and a chill ran down my spine. I’d left it on the floor before, I was certain. “Oh shit,” I whispered as something else caught my eye. Or rather,
didn’t
catch my eye. “I don’t understand. It was here.” The thumb drive containing the video had gone.

A surge of embarrassment roared through me and I felt my cheeks flush red. Without that video, the proof, I was just a woman telling a dirty story to the cops. I doubted even the non-dickhead deputy would be interested now, without any proof.

He gave me a quizzical look, and held up a hand signaling me to wait. He pulled out a buzzing cell phone from his pocket and answered it. I looked furtively around the room, looking for any evidence that someone had been here, or was still here. The deputy in front of me was nodding his head into the phone, even though the person at the other end couldn’t see him.

“Okay. I got it.” The deputy ended the phone call and shoved it back into his pocket. “That was the sheriff. He did a little digging into your history. It seems that you haven’t been entirely honest with us, he thinks you may be trying to harass your ex.”

My mouth opened in shock. “What? No! I swear to you, everything I said is true.”

“Where’s the video?”

I squeezed my fingers tightly into the palms of my hand. My voice was soft, barely a whisper, “It’s gone.”

The deputy who had seemed so kind before we drove over looked like he had run out of patience with me, as if I had been deliberately wasting his time. “We know about your past, we know you’ve been harassing your ex. You’re not even from around here, he’s hundreds of miles away from you now, can’t you just drop it?”

It was true that I was new in town, but it wasn’t like he thought. And what did he mean about me harassing my ex? That was all backward.
He
had ruined
my
life, ruined
me
, yet somehow he managed to convince the whole world that he was the victim in the fucking gongshow my life had become. Fucker. And now he’d somehow reported that
I
had been harassing
him
? The fucking nerve of him.

I gave it one last shot. If they could catch that asshole with a kidnap victim
he’d
be going away for a long time. “Please. Please believe me. I’m not lying. There
was
a video, and I’m worried about Red’s safety. Seriously.” I looked down and spoke more softly as I said, “And mine, too.”