Mayhem (Bleeding Mayhem MC #2) Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Jenika Snow

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-617-7

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  MAYHEM

  Bleeding Mayhem MC, 2

  Jenika Snow

  Copyright © 2015

  Preface

  “I can’t keep bailing you out, Nathan,” Butters said, but she knew that was a lie. She’d always be there for her brother.

  “Renee, you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important,” Nathan said with worry in his voice, so thick she felt it through the phone.

  Butters was only ever called by her given name by her younger brother Nathan, and he only called her that when he was desperate. So even if she didn’t hear the strain in his voice, the clear fear, she would have known it was serious.

  Breathing out slowly, she leaned back in the bed and closed her eyes. “How much do you need this time, Nate?” She rubbed her eyes with her hand, hating that her little brother had his problems, ones that he pulled her into. It was just them, though, and she couldn’t leave him stranded, not when turning her back on him would mean Nathan would be out in the cold, so to speak.

  There was silence for a long while, and she knew whatever Nathan was going to tell her would be heavy.

  “Ten grand.”

  She nearly choked at that figure. “Nate, I don’t have that kind of money.” She could have cried for the shit her brother continuously got into. “You have a problem, a big problem, Nate.”

  He exhaled. “I know, but if I don’t pay them they’ll kill me, Renee. These guys are dangerous. They don’t fuck around.”

  “Who is it? Who do you owe money to?” He was silent for another second. “Another gang, a loan shark?” There had been many times Nate got into shit and she’d had to bail him out, but it had never been this deep in the hole.

  More silence. She heard Nate shuffling around, even heard him sniffling.

  “Are you crying, Nate?” God, what the hell has he gotten into? This has to be bad.

  “I’m in with the Cardona Family.”

  Her lungs seized, her heart stopped, and she sat up in bed. “Nate,” she gasped out his name. She’d heard about the Cardonas. They were a newer group of men that had only been around for about five years. They had the reputation of beating someone just for looking at them the wrong way. They might not be the most dangerous, or even the biggest group out there, but for her and Nate they were pretty fucking bad.

  If her brother was in with them and they didn’t come up with the money, he wouldn’t just be beaten and have his legs broken. They’d torture him before making him dig his own grave, and then shoot him between the eyes.

  She could have cried. The other times her brother had been in trouble had been with small, petty groups. But the Cardona family didn’t fuck around.

  “I know, Renee.”

  She wiped away her tears. “Nate, you do realize that if we don’t come up with that money they’ll…” She couldn’t even say the word, couldn’t even think about Nate getting killed. “You’re so fucking stupid, Nathan,” she said, crying now because she had no idea where in the hell she’d get the money. She also didn’t want her brother dead or hurt. He fucked up, had always had money problems, gambling, and even had a drug addiction before he’d gotten help for it in high school, but he was still her only family and she loved him.

  Pushing her emotions back, she knew she needed to be strong, if not for him then for herself. Butters needed to figure out how in the fuck to handle this, and she knew if they were dealing with the Cardona gang they didn’t have a whole lot of time.

  Chapter One

  Mayhem sat at the poker table and stared at the cards in his hands. He tossed them down, showing the other Patches he had a flush. “Fuck you, assholes,” he said and grabbed the pot of money in the center of the table. Fury, the club’s president, Shorty, their Sergeant at Arms, who also looked like his big fucking frame would crush the chair he sat in, and Dirty all sat around, glaring at Mayhem. Mayhem grinned as he collected his winnings.

  “You’re a cheating bastard,” Fury said. He pulled a joint out of a pocket in his cut, lit the end, and inhaled deeply. Within a few minutes the rest of the guys were getting high, the thick, sweet smelling smoke surrounding them. The club was mostly quiet aside from the low hum of music and Dealer getting a lap dance from one of the club whores.

  “You’re just pissed ‘cause you fucking suck at poker, yet you still play and lose.”

  The rest of the guys started laughing. Ash, Woods, and Stone were all out doing a little club business, and a prospect had gone with them. There were another two prospects that were on bitch duty, cleaning up the bathrooms, shining up the Harleys, and earning their keep.

  One of the sweet-butts, Baby Girl, came up to Shorty, leaned down, and started giggling at whatever she’d said. Shorty groaned, looked over at Baby Girl, and then faced them again.

  “Got to take care of business.”

  And by that Shorty meant he needed to go fuck. But the deal with Shorty and Baby Girl—Shorty had been the one to give her the nickname—was they had a far out there relationship. Baby Girl didn’t fuck anyone else, even if she had the title of sweet-butt. Whatever went down with Shorty and the woman was on a level Mayhem wasn’t into. Mayhem just knew whatever the hell they did behind closed doors had been loud enough on several occasions to have Mayhem hearing her shouting out “Daddy” and a lot of other age-play related shit. To each his own and all that, but not something Mayhem had ever wanted to experiment with.

  TA, another club whore, walked by, and Dirty grabbed her around the waist. Tits and Ass, or TA as the club called her, had been with every Patch, him included. Not the best sex he’d ever had, but she was good to warm a bed for a few hours because she knew exactly what the guys liked. Dirty got up and took TA with him down the hall, and then it was just Mayhem and Fury.

  “You look like shit,” Mayhem said, grabbed his beer, and downed the rest. He lifted the empty bottle, and within a few moments a club whore set two new ones in front of them.

  “Thanks, motherfucker.”

  Mayhem grinned. “Saying it like it is, prez.”

  They both drank at the same time, and when they set the bottles on the table the silence stretched out. “You want to go with me to a bar close to Claire’s place?” Even with his twin recently coming to the club and staying here for protection because of one punk-ass ex, Mayhem had still went to the bar that was a few miles from where her apartment was. He could have said it was mainly because he was keeping an eye on his sister and what was going on with her, but that was a fucking lie.

  He grabbed his beer and finished it off.

  “Kind of a drive to get lit. You going there just because of that bastard, or is there some ass you want down there?” Fury asked, leaning back in the chair and kicking his leg out. He took on a relaxed position, but Mayhem could see the president was drunk and high.

  “Both,” Mayhem said, not bothering to lie.

  Fury cocked a dark eyebrow. “So, you either want more, or she ain’t putting out.” Fury started laughing, and Mayhem glared.

  “Fuck y
ou.”

  Fury laughed harder. “Okay, so she ain’t putting out.” He shook his head. “If she hasn’t spread for you by now I doubt she will, man. Not every bitch is as easy to fuck as the club whores.”

  “She’ll put out, because if she knew me at all she’d realize I don’t give up on what I want.”

  Fury tipped his beer bottle toward Mayhem. “Well, good luck toward that. Sounds like you’ll need it.”

  Chapter Two

  Mayhem pulled his Harley into the gravel parking lot, cut the engine, and stared at the neon sign on the bar door that read “Open”. Dismounting and removing his skullcap helmet, he looked around at the few drunken guys groping women up against the side of the building. This bar was in a shitty part of town, and the smell of alcohol and piss filled his head.

  It had been a little while since Claire had come to the club. They were in the works to take care of Steven, Claire’s piece of shit ex, but here Mayhem was, driving out of his way to try to score a piece of ass from one smart mouthed, denying bartender. He made his way up to the front doors, his cock starting to get hard at the thought Butters was in there. Yeah, he’d found out all about her, made sure he knew who she was, her background, and anything that could be used to his advantage. Mayhem never said he was a good guy.

  The sound of low talking on the other side of the building almost went unnoticed, but he knew that voice, had thought about it enough when he’d jerked off. Walking toward the side of the building, he leaned against the brick, not looking around the corner so he wasn’t seen.

  “Nathan, I’m trying my best to figure this out, but I’ll remind you you’re the one that fucked up, and I’m the one that has to clean it up.”

  Butters sounded strained, a little pissed, too. She exhaled loudly.

  “I love you, okay. You’re my little brother, but you have a problem. I want to help you, because even thinking about you hurt breaks my heart, but I need time.”

  Another long moment of silence, as Mayhem assumed her brother spoke.

  “Ten thousand dollars is not something I have just lying around, Nathan,” she said with a snap in her voice. “I need time, but if you have any suggestions on how to figure this out, and get your ass out of the mess you’re in, I’m all ears.”

  More silence filled the air.

  “Listen, we’ll talk later. I’m at work.”

  Mayhem turned away and started walking inside, smirking at the way in he’d just found.

  ****

  Butters was exhausted, and she knew that until she figured out what to do with Nate it would only get worse.

  “Baby, give me a shot of scotch, and make it the good stuff, not that watered down well liquor you play off as real.”

  She grabbed the bottle of scotch, made her way over to the asshole grinning at her, and filled up his glass.

  “I’m not your baby, and you’ll drink whatever the hell we have.”

  Butters didn’t give a shit if she talked back to the customers. In fact a lot of them came in here because she didn’t put up with their crap. Her life didn’t revolve around them. She worked at a rundown bar to make ends meet. With just a high school education and a few credits for the college night classes she’d taken, her options were limited. Moving was out of the question seeing as she was barely paying her bills as it was, and she also couldn’t leave Nathan.

  She dished out a few more shots, turned back to the bar, and closed her eyes. She felt this tingling on the back of her neck, felt this tightness on her skin. Looking over her shoulder she scanned the bar. There were only a few empty tables, and since it was a Saturday night it was getting packed. But as she trailed her gaze over the interior, not seeing anything out of the ordinary at first, she still felt that intensity surround her. Someone was watching her. She’d know that sensation from anywhere. And then she stopped, stared at a corner table tucked in the back, the lights not quite reaching it.

  It was lit up enough she could see the man that leaned back, his leg out in a relaxed position under the table, his arm slung over the back of his chair. He was smirking as he stared at her, and she didn’t like the fact he had this air of arrogance that surrounded him. But she knew that man, had seen him several times over these last few weeks.

  Mayhem. He’d called himself Mayhem that first time he’d asked her to go home with him.

  He was a biker, she knew that by the Harley he’d always ride in on, and by the patch tattoo she’d see peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. He might not wear a cut when he came in here, but she knew the type of guy he was. He was big and muscular, resembling a lot of the bikers that came in here, but what set him apart was the fact he was quiet, stayed back and observed, and the power and danger that came from him was controlled. He might be the most dangerous man she’d ever met, and she didn’t even know him that well.

  What this man didn’t do was hide the fact he wanted to fuck her, and his blatant offer to do just that had her resolve firming. She sure as hell didn’t screw anyone because they snapped their fingers, and she could tell just by looking at him that he probably wasn’t denied if he wanted something. But he’d made offers to her over the last few weeks. He wanted her in his bed, and had the balls to bring it up, to all but demand she put out.

  She didn’t fuck a guy because he seemed scary and she was afraid. Butters might have a strong composure, might wear her courage on the outside, but she got frightened just like anyone else. She just knew how to hide it when the time called for it. When she was alone all bets were off, and she let that wall crumble, let her emotions, the feelings churning inside of her come out in all their ugly, tormented glory. It wasn’t often, but it did occur.

  He stood and walked toward her, and Butters felt her heart start to race, felt her hands shake, and she hated that this man who shouldn’t affect her was doing just that. He sat on one of the barstools, staring at her, this hard look on his face. His dark hair was short and kind of messy, and his eyes were so blue, so bright, it was this startling contrast to the darkness of him. Whoever this man was, and whatever he wanted this time, Butters knew she would have one hell of a time trying to keep her composure.

  ****

  Mayhem never said he was a good guy, a knight that would ride in on a fucking white stallion and rescue some chick in distress. He never claimed to be anything other than what he was, and that was a bastard that had a cold heart. Blame it on his upbringing, or the fact he had a shitty childhood, but whatever it was, it’s how he was shaped today.

  The only one person that ever meant anything to him before his club was his twin, Claire. But then he saw Butters, and he wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman before. He based it on the fact she was hot as fuck, that she had a smart mouth and didn’t take shit from anyone. She also had some tattoos showing, and that turned him on like nothing else.

  But he knew his need to have her, to own every fucking part of her body, was also because she didn’t give him the time of day. She wasn’t like the sweet-butts, wasn’t a club whore that spread her legs just because some fucker in leather called her over for some ass.

  And when he’d found out she was in trouble, being the bastard he was, Mayhem didn’t think twice about making her an offer that would solve her problems.

  He wasn’t ashamed he’d overheard her on the phone talking to her brother, telling him everything would be okay because she’d figure something out. And he sure as fuck wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d looked her up, found out what kind of trouble her brother was actually in, found out everything about her.

  Mayhem was a dirty bastard, and he had no shame when it came to getting what he wanted. He was a cold hearted killer, and he got off on it all. He got what he wanted because anyone that denied him knew he'd fuck them up. But then there was Butters … fucking Butters. She wouldn't give him the time of day, and the only thing that accomplished was making him want her more. If she wanted a hero she'd be disappointed in him.

  He wasn't a good guy, and woul
dn't be one for anyone, not even her, hence why he was here in the first place, about to put her in a corner with what he had to offer. But if she wanted someone to take care of the problem she was in, well, Mayhem could be the violent motherfucker she needed. But it came with a price … and that price was her.

  He motioned her over for a shot, and although their eyes connected, she didn’t even bat a lash at him. She could keep her cool that was for damn sure.

  It pissed him off, annoyed him, but most of all it made his dick so fucking hard. Mayhem was used to getting pussy on demand, used to just giving a bitch a look and she would all but crawl her ass over to him, ready to take his dick. But Butters, no, Butters was locked up tighter than the damn Reserve.

  She was tense, didn’t even want to look at him, but he could read a person just by their body language, and knew this woman wanted him, no matter how much she fought it. He had to give her props for turning him down. For all she knew he could be one of those bastards that just took what they wanted from a woman. Of course, Mayhem was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a rapist.

  “You going to turn me down again?” He got right to the point.

  She lifted her gaze and glared at him, her eyes narrowing.

  He grabbed her wrist before she could turn away.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off before you understand I’m not interested?”

  He would have laughed at that if Mayhem had been the type of man to find shit funny. “What if I said I can make it worth your while?”

  She pursed her lips and pulled her hand out of his grasp. “You’re clearly not the kind of guy that hears the word no very often, but I’m not a fucking whore, and therefore not for sale. Go fuck yourself.”

  His cock jerked even harder, his balls drawing up. Damn, this woman would give him a run for his money, would probably fuck his brains out. He had to have her, and he had no shame.