Full Heat: A Brothers of Mayhem Novel

by Carla Swafford

  As if it was a signal, behind him the back door of the bar creaked open.

  “Storm?”

  —

  Worried when he hadn’t returned from the restroom, Mary Jane asked one of the men to check. She followed and stood in the short hallway, waiting for Storm to come out and shoot her an exasperated look. Instead the Mayhem Brother returned and shook his head. Confused, she glanced around. That was when she noticed the service door off to the side. She pressed lightly on the security bar. When no alarm trilled, she stepped outside.

  A few moments passed as Mary Jane watched the dark silhouette at the end of the alley. Storm leaned against the building with his shoulders hunched over; he appeared defeated. Loosey Lynda’s insinuation had upset Storm terribly.

  “Storm?”

  She stood within arm’s length.

  “Go back inside,” he said without turning around, his voice lifeless.

  “Loosey Lynda’s lies…she’s crazy and I didn’t—”

  “Stop!” He pivoted and thrust her against the wall, his lower body pressing against hers. He cupped her chin and placed a finger across her lips. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He dipped his head, his gaze imploring, his gray eyes dark from despair.

  With his lips a couple of inches away, she moved. His finger dropped away as her mouth covered his. She wanted to let him know she was there to comfort him in any way she could. Instead of taking her in a mad rush against the wall, he gentled the kiss, stroking his tongue along hers, taking barely-there nips and breaking away to press an occasional kiss at the corners of her upturned lips.

  He moved the kisses to a sensitive shoulder, tugging her shirt down, giving him plenty of bare skin. She sighed, arching her neck to allow his attention more room. The whole world slid away as he kissed the top of her breasts.

  “Boss? I hate like hell to interrupt, but we have a situation. The Skull wants you.” Wolf’s unsmiling face confirmed the seriousness.

  Unable to hold it back, Mary Jane groaned in frustration. Tomorrow. She would find a way for them to be alone at her parents’ farm. The place was so serene, it was therapeutic and the perfect place to come to terms with what had been said.

  She followed Storm back into the bar. Near the front doors, two men dressed in baggy black clothes with white bandanas tied around their heads and glowing white sneakers stood with their feet spread apart and hands behind their backs. They acted like a couple of soldiers standing at ease, but their eyes watched every movement around them. They were Thirty-Second’s elite.

  What were they doing so far from home? Their gang usually stuck around Birmingham. They were pretty stupid to walk into a bar filled with bikers, especially Brothers of Mayhem. She couldn’t consider it brave at all.

  Speed walked up to Storm. “They keep asking for you. Call me an old softie, but you’re going to be the Skull one day, so I decided to let you teach these boys a lesson. They have no fucking business following us.”

  Storm nodded.

  He was going to be Skull one day? The idea filled Mary Jane’s heart with sadness. That would separate him even further from her life. The thought hurt. No. She’d have to think about it later. Her attention returned to the men looking coldly their way.

  They probably followed to find out what the Brothers of Mayhem had done with their leader’s cousin. The barroom was quiet. Even the jukebox was silent for the drama. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Easy grinning and watching Storm with interest as he downed a beer. Why? Had he played a part in this scene? From the things she’d learned, he was a conniving asshole.

  “You’re a little out of your territory, boys.” Storm stepped closer to the men and glared, his fists opening and closing by his thighs. He was visibly aching to fight.

  “Toro ordered us to give you a message.” The man with a scar near his left eye folded his arms. “If Angel Garcia is not returned to him by noon tomorrow, alive, he will wage war against the Brothers.”

  “You be sure to tell that bastard Angel will pay for his friend shooting at our Brothers and damaging our property, unless you want to give up the motherfucker.” The two men stared at Storm without saying a word. “That’s what I thought. You’re nothing but gnats in our territory, but we’ll flatten you without a thought if you bother us again.” Storm crossed his arms too and tilted his chin up to look down his nose at the gangster. The man’s partner eyed Mary Jane as if she were a tasty treat. Storm dropped his arms and took a step toward the other man. “And don’t forget that Mary Jane is under our protection. Touch her or her businesses, we’ll wreak mayhem on the Thirty-Second.”

  The man turned his head toward Storm; his lack of fear bothered her.

  “Toro wants you to know that you have until the end of the week to catch up on your payments.” He then gave her a slow once over.

  Storm stepped in front of her to block the man’s view.

  “You’ve had your say. Get the fuck out of here.” Storm’s tone clearly said they were about to get an ass beating.

  The Thirty-Second member sneered and lifted his middle finger at Storm.

  That was all it took. Hell broke loose.

  As Wolf charged the one who made the obscene gesture, Storm slammed his fist into the other man. The two gang members scrambled off the floor and flew out the doors, running to a dark sedan idling on the road. Bikers poured into the parking lot and jumped on their rides.

  Mary Jane was surprised to see Storm standing next to his bike and not starting it. He watched half the club give chase after the men. If the Thirty-Second members could reach Interstate 40, they had a chance to live. Motorcycles could take the mountain curves so much easier than cars, but with the way the Thirty-Second loved to soup up the engines, they could blow by the bikes on the straightway of an interstate.

  She hoped they would make it. Though they had killed Jimmy, threatened to do her bodily harm, and destroyed her businesses, she couldn’t bring herself to want them dead. In prison and beaten to a pulp…Oh, hell yes.

  Chapter 13

  Storm hit another curve at top speed. He felt Mary Jane squeeze his waist and lean with him and the bike. If not for his promise to Mary Jane, he’d head straight back to Brook Hill and the clubhouse. Speed had insisted he go and take a break. That nothing could be done. The news from Venom was that Angel hadn’t given them a name yet, and no one had been seen lurking around the clubhouse. The Thirty-Second was full of shit.

  Taking a deep breath, Storm decided he liked the mountain air. They had left civilization about ten miles back. A mixture of excitement from being in a different environment and apprehension from being out of his element gripped his guts. He’d never worried about meeting a girl’s parents. In what little social life he’d possessed before and after prison, the girls weren’t the type to bother. Anyway, this was different. With the death of Jimmy, and Storm’s guarding Mary Jane, it was more business and courtesy than social.

  Lying to himself had become a habit.

  She tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to slow down and to turn right up ahead. Storm nodded and signaled to Wolf and Cutter. Driving along the surprisingly smooth dirt road at a much slower pace, he watched for the wildlife Mary Jane warned about that morning. Tree branches with green, gold, and red leaves created a tunnel as if they were entering a different world. When they thundered out into a clearing, he was certain they were thrown back two hundred years.

  Horses scared by the loud Harleys circled in a corral, shaking their heads and whinnying. Men dressed in overalls stopped hoeing a field. Women in long dresses hanging clothes on lines stared with curiosity. All of the buildings were painted white with small patches of flowers in front. The shapes of the buildings were the only distinguishing features for each. There appeared to be eight average-size houses, one larger, four barns of various sizes, and a schoolhouse or church.

  On a run up north one time, they had passed an Amish village. In some ways, the scene before him looked similar but more comp
act.

  Mary Jane pointed to the larger house, and he pulled up near the front porch. After he checked the firmness of the ground and pushed his kickstand down, they dismounted. Hooking their helmets on the handlebars, he looked over and a tall man and plump woman dressed similarly to the others stood on the porch.

  “Mary Jane! My sweet little girl!” The woman smiled big and hurried down the steps.

  “Mom!” Mary Jane opened her arms and hugged the woman. The man hung back, eyeing Storm and his men with concern. “I want you to meet Storm Ryder, Wolf…Savalas, right?” Wolf nodded. “And Cutter…uh…sorry, but I don’t know your last name.”

  “Hightower.” Cutter nodded toward the older couple and looked away, his gaze touching on the surrounding landscape as if searching for trouble.

  “Yes. Sorry.” She grinned. “Fellows, this is my mom and dad, Tina and Leif.”

  Storm nodded in acknowledgment. Cutter mumbled and nodded too, but Wolf was staring off in the direction Cutter had a moment earlier. Storm slapped him in the back of the head, nodding toward her parents.

  “What? Oh, nice to meet you, ma’am, sir.” Wolf was a good old Southern boy with a halfway decent upbringing.

  The concerned look on the older man’s face grew.

  “Ms. Parker hired us to help protect her and her businesses.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

  “Protect? From what?” Leif’s hazel eyes, so much like his daughter’s, drilled into his. He obviously thought the danger was more than likely to come from them. In some ways he was right.

  Mary Jane drew their attention when she cleared her throat before saying, “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you what’s happened.”

  Before Storm could follow the women inside, Mary Jane’s father stepped in front of him. “If you have any weapons, please hand them over now. We do not allow weapons of any kind in our homes.”

  Storm carried only a knife in his boot, but there was no way he’d give it up. Only in dire circumstances, but this wasn’t one of them. Hell, even in the shower the knife remained within reach. Wolf and Cutter each carried a gun. Life as a Mayhem Brother was too dangerous to go without.

  “Dad, what kind of bodyguards will they be if they’re unarmed? They won’t touch their weapons while inside. I promise.” Mary Jane saved the men from having to say no. She hugged her father and smiled.

  Storm understood the man’s dilemma. How could anyone say no to her?

  Her father looked at the men and back to his daughter before he nodded and headed into the building. Mary Jane grabbed Storm’s arm and walked in with him. Though it was hard to admit, he was proud that she wanted him by her side, and that he actually welcomed her touch. The woman was a miracle worker.

  With a last glance around, Storm finally noticed what Cutter and Wolf had noticed. Everyone had disappeared, including the horses. It reminded him of the old westerns he’d watched as a kid. When the bad guys rode into town, the townspeople would run into their houses and stores. He had mixed feelings about it. On one hand, he liked knowing the people were smart enough to recognize trouble, but on the other, he didn’t want anyone connected to Mary Jane to worry and be afraid.

  As he walked inside, he was pleasantly surprised by the airiness. The main floor of the building consisted of a large family room, dining hall and kitchen combination. Looking up, he could see the two other levels with a railing circling each floor.

  “Those lead to the bedrooms for the single men and women,” Mary Jane explained. “Everyone gets together in the gathering house for breakfast and dinner. Where they have lunch is up to each individual. If they’re working in one of the distant fields, they’ll pick a tree and sit under it for their meal, eating whatever they packed.” She pointed toward the other houses outside one of the windows. “Families have their own homes. Though they dine most often in the gathering house, each home has a small kitchen for necessities.”

  He noticed three large fireplaces on separate walls with utensils and tables in front of each one. That was when he realized the reason. No standard stove or refrigerator were in sight.

  “No electricity?”

  “Nope. Kerosene for lighting and wood or coal for cooking and heating.”

  “This wasn’t exactly what I thought it would look like.” Storm was impressed by how clean and well run everything appeared. After prison, he had trouble dealing with dirt and disorganization.

  “A lot of people expect a bunch of hippies holding love-ins.” Mary Jane’s grin widened as he stared into her sweet face. “Though I have nothing against you and me holding one. That is, as long as we keep it to ourselves.”

  He laughed. Her mom looked at her and smiled, while her dad’s eyes narrowed. Storm’s men stared as if they didn’t know him. Since meeting Mary Jane, he’d laughed more than he had in years.

  Glancing around again, he decided there was something about this life that appealed to him.

  —

  “Your boyfriend sure has taken to the life.”

  Mary Jane helped her mom clip the sheet to the clothesline. Work continued even with visitors around. Besides, she was family and didn’t count as a guest. After they had arrived that morning, she showed the men around. Wolf and Cutter would bunk in a spare room next to one of the large barns. The room had several bunk beds that they offered to unexpected male guests passing through. Nothing had been said when Mary Jane had shown Storm to her room in the back of her parents’ cabin.

  “He’s my bodyguard.” Although, she wished he was more than a bodyguard with benefits. But she couldn’t imagine Storm being anyone’s boyfriend. That word was too tame for Storm. Besides, that would consist of holding hands, cuddling, and making out. For Storm it was all or nothing. Thankfully, he no longer jerked away when she touched his arm. “Yes. You know Dad should’ve told them ahead of time that the men were going to move their motorcycles into one of the barns. In addition to their colors, uh, vests, they’re funny about people touching their bikes.”

  The uproar had shaken Mary Jane. Storm, Wolf, and Cutter had hollered at her dad, asking who had taken their bikes. When Dad was finally able to get a word in edgewise, he’d told them they were placed in one of the smaller barns for safekeeping. Once the men checked on their bikes, they calmed down. They were glad they had been moved as it rained for the next hour, but they warned her dad not to touch them again without checking with them first.

  Throughout the day, Mary Jane saw the men being shown how to shoe a horse, repair a chair, or chop wood. That was what Storm was doing presently. He looked good with his damp hair swept back from his forehead, his shirt off—tattoos shimmering with sweat—and his lovely muscles bunching and releasing with each swing. Enough to make a grown woman’s mouth water.

  Once the commune’s men were certain the bikers wouldn’t cause trouble, they came out and introduced themselves, though Mary Jane noticed that the women and children stayed hidden. That was nothing unusual. Their commune was patriarchal. She expected the women would show up around dinnertime.

  “Go and take him to the falls.” Her mom lifted the empty laundry basket and placed it on her hip.

  “Yeah. I think he’ll like that.” She hugged her mom and headed over to the woodpile.

  Unable to help it, she stood back for a few minutes and watched Storm split a few more cords of wood.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked.

  Good thing she waited until he was wiping his brow to say anything. He twirled around, ax held in a menacing stance.

  “Damn it, woman, you need to make noise when walking up to a man wielding an ax.”

  “Actually, I did. You were concentrating too hard on chopping wood to notice.”

  He grunted and nodded. With a smooth move, he swung the ax and left it in the stump. She raised her eyebrows. Most people didn’t know it was safer to do that. Less chance of someone stumbling over its sharp blade or a child trying to play with it.

/>   “How do you know how to chop wood? Most people don’t.” Her gaze lingered on the lightly defined pecs and abs and the sexy tattoos. She felt warm, and not from the temperature outside. With his jeans hanging low on his hips and the band of his underwear showing, he had her heart thumping hard.

  “Speed had a wood-burning stove he used to keep electricity costs down during the winter. He had free labor—me—and I got real handy at it. It had been a few years, but like riding a bike, it all came back.”

  Storm grabbed his shirt off the stack of wood and swiped at his forehead. The grin spreading on his face told her clearly how much he’d enjoyed the day.

  “How about a shower before we eat?” She bit her bottom lip to keep from giving him a mischievous smirk.

  “Sure.” He eyed her as if he suspected something was up. Smart man.

  Halfway to her destination, she met her father. Hair wet and a towel hanging from around his neck, it didn’t take much to figure he’d taken a shower too.

  “You planning to introduce Storm to Niagara?” her dad asked with a teasing glint in his eyes.

  “Figured he’d enjoy it. More private.” She didn’t say more as she wanted to surprise Storm.

  “Niagara?” Storm looked at the two with suspicion.

  “Don’t pay attention to Dad.” She laughed and shook a finger at her father.

  “Where’s his towel and soap?” her father asked.

  “Oh, I forgot.” A little embarrassed by her single-minded desire to see Storm naked under the waterfall, she turned to Storm and said, “Wait here with Dad, and he’ll tell you how he and Mom came to live here, and I’ll be back before you know it.” She looked back and forth at the men, who raised their eyebrows. Her cheeks scalding red for sure, she trotted toward the gathering place.

  On her return she met her dad on the trail again.

  “You were gone so long, I went ahead and showed him the waterfall.” He stopped her from walking on. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? They are dangerous people. Their lives are spent on the opposite end of the spectrum from ours.”