by Jenika Snow
“You can count it, but it’s all there.”
Sal smiled wider. “I’m sure it is. You seem like the type of man that knows how to keep his end of the bargain.”
“I just want shit done,” Mayhem didn’t mince his words. These assholes were trying to be bigger than they were, but all Mayhem wanted was for this fucked up shit to be over with.
Sal leaned back, his grin still in place. “I like you. It’s Mayhem, right?”
Mayhem nodded once.
“I like you. I can see you and I have a lot of things in common.”
Mayhem doubted that, but he kept his mouth shut.
“But even though I like you, I can’t let shit slide, especially when it concerns my family.”
Mayhem heard commotion behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see Nate all but being dragged through the restaurant. He was tossed to the ground, where he groaned, and tried to rise. But the motherfucking guard placed a boot right in the center of Nate’s back, keeping him on the ground. Mayhem didn’t much care about Nate since he’d gotten Butters involved in this shit, but he also knew his woman—and yeah, she was his fucking woman—would be devastated by this, and if she lost her brother. He didn’t want Butters going through that.
“What the fuck is this?” Mayhem demanded, not caring, or thinking straight right now, even though men that had guns at the ready surrounded him. He’d counted the two men at the door, Sal and Marco, and probably another one or two hiding somewhere in this damn place. He could take them, or take out as many as he could before they got a hit in on him. But he had to play this smart. Obviously the rules had changed.
“This piece of shit had the balls to come to my home and stab me.”
Mayhem looked at Marco, the little asshole finally speaking. He then looked back at Nate. “You stupid motherfucker.” He should leave Nate here to die, but fuck, he couldn’t do that to Butters. Nate might be the biggest fucking idiot to walk the Earth, but Mayhem knew family bonds, even if those family bonds were fucked in the head.
“And what the hell do you think I want with him?” Of course Mayhem played it off, not about to let them know that he didn’t want Nate dying solely because of Butters.
“You want him alive because we know you’ve been spending a lot of personal time with his sister.”
Mayhem tensed. “What?” His heart beat faster. They may not know the deal he’d made with Butters, but they could guess. Besides, they knew he was with her, maybe even think he held her close—which he did, but they didn’t know that for sure—and wanted to use this as leverage.
Marco smirked. “You think we don’t follow up on shit that concerns all aspects of our family?”
Mayhem curled his hands into fists on his thighs.
“You’ll bring us another twenty grand by tomorrow if you want this piece of shit to stay alive.” Marco smiled wider, but Mayhem saw him reach for his side, his expression showing an instant of pain. “And if you don’t get us the money we’ll kill this worthless bastard, and go after Renee next.”
Mayhem’s throat tightened, his vision became tunneled, the world faded, and all he could think about was protecting Butters. These assholes thought to take from him the only good thing in his life, the only woman he’d ever felt anything for?
Fuck. No.
Not even thinking straight, Mayhem slowly stood, and watched the little prick in front of him flash a straight, white-toothed smile. Mayhem looked over at Sal. The older man held no expression, and instead picked up his now refilled wine glass and took a drink from it.
Mayhem nodded slowly, reached out for the bag before they could grab it, and unzipped it. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, but in reality he knew it was pretty damn fast. He’d stored a handgun in the bag, and because Sal’s men were complete idiots, they hadn’t checked that. If they had he would have dealt with that, probably in the form of violence, but Mayhem wasn’t about to come into this situation unprepared.
He pulled the gun out, aimed at Marco first, and fired. He wasn’t thinking, just seeing red as he thought of losing Butters. Fuck, he had it bad for her, and that was clear by his actions right now.
He was aware of shouting, but he turned and fired a shot at the guard coming toward him. He ducked when he heard a gun go off and a bullet slam into one of the pillars beside him. Plaster flew around him. He turned and aimed at Sal, fired, and even though he heard the older man grunt in pain, showing Mayhem had gotten him, Sal ducked below the table. Mayhem had to get the other men in the room, make sure they were taken out.
It was only a few minutes into this that he heard and saw the front doors burst open. Fury, Dirty, Shorty, Dealer, and even the prospect Birdie came into the restaurant. Their guns were already out, and their faces were hard masks. Fury and Dirty took out two of the guards before they even fired their guns.
Mayhem turned to face Sal, but saw he was gone, probably ducking out when he saw shit was getting bad. But just when Mayhem was going to go around the table and see if he’d killed Marco, the kitchen doors burst open and a guy dressed in black came out, shooting and yelling out in Italian. Shorty shot him between the eyes, but there was a round of curses and commotion. Mayhem turned and saw Birdie on the ground, the guys crouched beside him, but Dealer and Dirty scanning the room to make sure no one else came out shooting. Mayhem wanted to go to Birdie, but he needed to make sure Marco was dead, because if not he could come back swinging, so to speak.
He rounded the corner, saw Marco staring up at the ceiling, his lifeless eyes open, and blood trickling out of the corner of the his mouth. The gunshot wound was right through his neck, and the pool of blood that was slowly growing around him had Mayhem taking a step back.
“Birdie needs a fucking doctor,” Fury shouted. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
Mayhem moved over to the guys, and saw that Birdie had been shot in the chest, his face already ashen, his eyes wide.
“Dirty and Shorty, you’ll ride with me to the hospital. I don’t want to risk our doc looking at him, not with all this blood loss.”
“What about the questions?” Shorty asked, obviously thinking the same thing Mayhem, and probably the other guys had on their mind. Going to the hospital with a gunshot wound would mean questions. The cops would have to be called because of the type of injury, and shit would probably hit the fan. But even their back alley doctor might not be equipped for this, or they wouldn’t try it.
Fury already looked enraged. Mayhem knew the president had known the prospect nearly his whole life, so this was probably a blow to him.
“Any survivors?” Fury asked as the others guys tried to pick up Birdie as easily as possible. The guy made a low sound, and blood covered everyone, but they were out of the restaurant within seconds.
“Sal’s gone, but his little shit of a son is dead.”
Nate started groaning, and Mayhem turned to face Butters’s brother. He hadn’t even thought about the little shit during the hail of gunfire.
“Get up,” Mayhem said.
Nate stood, looking shaky and beat to fuck, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
“How hurt are you?” Mayhem put his gun at the small of his back.
“I’m fine, just a little scuffed up.”
Mayhem nodded. “Come on, let’s get you to the clubhouse and to your sister.” He grabbed the bag of cash first, and together they left the restaurant, on alert still, because he didn’t know where the fuck Sal went. Hell, he might have bled out for all Mayhem knew. He had gotten a shot in on him, heard his grunt of pain, but then he was just gone.
“Things getting cleaned?” Mayhem asked, scanning the perimeter.
“Dealer’s working on the security cameras to make sure we aren’t on them.”
Mayhem knew their guns were unregistered with the serial numbers scratched off, so they couldn’t be brought back to them.
“The bodies will have to stay, but we should be good in that, too.” Fury stopped and looke
d at Mayhem. “You touch anything? Leave any fingerprints?”
Mayhem thought back. “No.” The doors had been opened for him, the chair he sat in already pulled out. He had the bag, which would be the only thing that he’d touched. “We should be good on all fronts.”
Fury nodded in approval.
Dirty and Shorty were waiting for Fury in the parking lot, and once their President was in the back of the vehicle they took off. Once Mayhem and Nate were in the other vehicle, they waited silently for Dealer to join them, tech bag in hand.
Finally Dealer came out of the building and climbed in the back of the SUV. “We’re good. It’s all been wiped clean.”
“You can do that? Just make it so you weren’t even there?” Nate asked, and turned to spit out a mouthful of blood.
“We can do whatever the fuck I want,” Mayhem answered, looking over at Nate.
“Let’s roll,” Dealer said, and Mayhem cranked the engine and left Monstello’s behind. He didn’t know what in the fuck would happen as a result from this, and in fact nothing might happen. Sal could be dead in some ally, and they’d killed any witnesses. They would be clean on this. But of course that’s not how their lives worked. Shit always seemed to happen at the worst fucking times.
But the club would get through this. They had each other’s backs, would kill and die for one another, and that’s what mattered.
What consumed him now was the fact he wanted to get to Butters and tell her how much she meant to him. He hoped he wouldn’t be left looking like an asshole with his dick in his hand after it was said and done.
Chapter Fifteen
Butters had bitten her thumbnail almost all the way down, feeling anxious as news came through that things had gone very badly with the drop. She hadn’t been able to get a hold of Nate either, and that had her nerves strained even more. She didn’t know what was going on, and aside from a clipped phone call from Mayhem to Claire telling her they were on their way back and bad shit had gone down, no one knew anything.
She tried calling Nate again, but his phone went straight to voicemail.
“Any luck, hun?” Claire asked, walking up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.
Butters hadn’t known any of these people but for a few days, but she felt close to Claire. The other woman was soft and sweet, and cared about others. Her boyfriend, or old man, or whatever in the hell they labeled each other, was over by the bar. He’d stayed behind, apparently to make sure everyone was okay at the club.
Big was his name, and he fit that title perfectly due to the height and muscle mass he sported.
“Not really.” Butters didn’t try to lie.
Claire looked to the window Butters had just been staring out of, and breathed out roughly. “Yeah, me either.”
There was more silence, more tension, and her worry escalated even more.
“You think someone got seriously hurt?” When Claire didn’t answer she looked over at her. There was strain on the woman’s face.
“I’m sure someone did, but we won’t know anything until they come back.”
As soon as she’d been dropped off at the club by Mayhem the gossip had started. Well, not really gossip as everyone pretty much just came up and asked her about what was going on. Apparently one of the club whores had overheard the Patches speaking about what was going down tonight, or part of it, and that had the rumors starting.
Then the sound of squealing tires pierced her thoughts, and she looked out the window again, seeing Mayhem’s SUV pulling to a stop. Dealer and Mayhem got out of the vehicle, but when a really beaten up Nate crawled out of the back of the SUV Butters felt her heart drop to her stomach.
“Oh my God,” she whispered and covered her mouth with her hand. She rushed out the front door, met Nate halfway, searching his body for the injuries, and felt her throat tighten at all of the wounds he had.
“I’m fine, Renee.”
“You’re not.” She was trying to stay strong in the eye of all the chaos, but she couldn’t even breathe right now. But her fear and worry was slowly starting to get masked by her anger. Her brother had put everyone in danger. “This is your fault, Nate. You could have gotten everyone killed, including yourself.” She felt her face heat from her anger, and saw her brother’s eyes widen. She’d never really yelled at him, and hadn’t blamed him outright when he’d been so selfish. But that’s exactly what he’d been.
“I’m sorry, Renee. I was trying to make things right.”
She shook her head, not even wanting to hear it. “Stop with the excuses. You’re selfish, have put yourself, me, and now this club in danger because you can’t fucking control yourself.” She was raising her voice, not able to stop herself. She was aware people were watching, but she didn’t care.
“I’m sorry, Renee,” he said again, but in a smaller voice.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them again Nate was already walking inside, and the rest of the crew that had come outside were walking past her, their faces downcast.
She looked over at Mayhem, saw he was unharmed, and felt this relief fill her. She moved over to Mayhem, not knowing what to say, how to respond. “You’re okay.” Butters looked all over his body, but didn’t see any wounds. That made her feel so good.
He gave a grunt of acknowledgment, his eyes hard, his focus on her.
“Someone got hurt,” she said, knowing this hadn’t been the end result, not with how everyone had acted.
He nodded. “Birdie, Fury’s longtime friend.”
Her throat tightened. “Will he be okay?”
Mayhem closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. “We don’t know. He’s at the hospital right now.”
Knowing someone got seriously injured had her chest squeezing painfully.
He lifted his hand, and surprising the hell out of her cupped her cheek. A moment of silence passed between them.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered, seeing this softer side of Mayhem, even if it was raw and hardened still. Of course a lot of bad things had clearly gone down, but the way he was looking at her was how she envisioned a man looking at a woman he thought he’d just about lost.
“Take care of your brother. I know you’re worried, even if you’re upset right now. We’ll talk later, baby.” He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, and then he was gone, leaving her standing there feeling open and bared.
****
The following day
Butters wanted to talk to Mayhem all night, but by the time the guys had gotten back it was late, and then she’d stayed with Nate, making sure he really was okay, but still being so angry with him. He’d talked to her, tried to make her not in such a foul mood. But although she was happy Nate was safe, she was still so angry to even think that he could have hurt the members of the club tonight.
They hadn’t spoken much about why in the hell he’d gone to speak with Sal, but she had gotten it out of him that he’d just wanted to protect her in his own fucked up way.
Fury had called the club’s physician to come check him out, but other than his superficial wounds he was okay and didn’t even need her to be there with him.
Now that she’d left the club, where he was going to be staying until he was recovered. Butters had found out Mayhem left early this morning to head back to his place for a while, and although she could have waited until he came back, she missed him and was desperate to talk to him. This whole situation, and how he’d looked at her last night, had made her realize something was definitely changing within her where it concerned Mayhem.
Butters may not know what the future held, didn’t even know if she’d read him right, but she was going to do this anyway. She needed to thank him personally for helping her brother, and her, in so many ways, liked she’d done with the other Patches already. She needed to see his face when she admitted even thinking about him getting hurt was scary and made her chest hurt.
She’d taken one of the sweet-butt’s vehicles and gone back to Mayhem’s pl
ace. Pulling up to the house and cutting the engine, she just stared at the building for a second before finally crawling out of the car. She was so nervous for some reason, but she also felt this relief fill her at the knowledge he was right on the other side of that door, and that she’d finally say what she needed to say.
Butters stopped over-thinking all of this and just headed inside. She didn’t see him at first, but she heard something in the backroom, and headed that way. Standing in the doorway and watching as Mayhem grabbed a shirt from his dresser, she was struck for a moment by the power of him. He was standing with his back to her, a towel slung around his hips, and water droplets sliding down the hard expanse of his body. The tattoos that covered his flesh were vibrant, angry almost.
“If you’re trying to catch me off guard,” he said and looked over his shoulder, “I can hear you breathing.” He smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Butters stepped into the room, feeling all kinds of anxious because she honestly didn’t know what to say about how she felt, how he made her feel. But she didn’t say anything, just walked up to him and all but threw herself against his body. Closing her eyes and resting her head on his chest, she just stayed there a moment, reveling in the fact he was here and she was allowing herself to feel these emotions for him.
“Baby? You okay?” he said and wrapped his arms around her. He inhaled deeply, and when he exhaled she felt tendrils of her hair move along her shoulders.
“I’m okay,” she said and smiled, her eyes still closed, this warmth stealing over her.
“It feels really fucking good to just hold you, Butters,” Mayhem said softly.
Yeah, she knew exactly what he meant.
“I want to thank you,” she said to him, her voice low, her heart thundering.
“You don’t have to thank me.” He seemed relaxed, but she felt his muscles tighten slightly.
“Nate fucked up, has always screwed up during his life. I’ve always been there to clean up his messes, but I was a fool not to really see his destruction until now.”