TWISTED MAYHEM (A Devil Call MC Book) (Talon & Everly Book Four) (Devil Call MC Talon & Everly 4)

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TWISTED MAYHEM (A Devil Call MC Book) (Talon & Everly Book Four) (Devil Call MC Talon & Everly 4) Page 2

by Ana W. Fawkes


  I pulled out my gun. “Is someone going to fucking answer me?”

  “We need to ride,” Buzzy said.

  “I’ll get some prospects,” Kade said. “We need bodies.”

  “What the fuck is going on?” I yelled.

  Jagg, Maxen, and Ash came rushing in from the outside. Jagg took off his sunglasses, revealing a long scar down his eye. He was a rough looking dude, but he was big and loyal.

  “Did you tell him?” he asked, looking at Layne. “We really need to roll here.”

  “Tell me what?” I asked.

  “Austin went looking for Jony,” Layne said.

  “What?”

  “Shit doesn’t add up around here,” Buzzy said. “Sorry, Talon.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “We need to go,” Jagg said.

  “I’m going to put a bullet in someone’s fucking head if I don’t get a real answer soon.”

  “Layne sent Austin out,” Maxen said. “Okay? To check up on things. Snoop around. Jagg got a call from Austin that he was being chased down. We heard engines and we heard gunshots.”

  “Then I lost the call,” Jagg said.

  “I tracked his cell,” Ash said. “I know right where he is.”

  “He’s fucking dead,” I said and looked at Layne. “You sent him out to die.”

  “We don’t know that,” Layne said.

  He tried to walk by me and I blasted my shoulder into his. It sent him sideways and crashing into one of the pool tables. He let out a growl and dove at me. We ended up in a some kind of fucked up lock up. All around us, the guys were yelling, demanding order.

  But there was no order. There would be no fucking order without a President to calm the clubhouse down. The patch was still in the middle of the goddamn table. And both Layne and I had the leftover stitches on our leather cuts from when we wore the patch. The difference being I was voted for my patch, he just took the patch when I had to do some time.

  I managed to grab at Layne’s leather and spin him around. I swung my foot to his feet and sent him flying back again. He crashed back into the same pool table. The heavy legs scratched at the floor as it moved.

  Layne grabbed a pool stick and broke it in half over his leg. He dropped one of the pieces and made a move at me. I reached back and grabbed a beer bottle. A quick smack against the edge of the bar and I had my own weapon.

  “Come on, motherfucker,” I edged him on. “Do it. Start this war.”

  “You assholes,” Buzzy growled. “We have to help Austin.”

  He was daring enough to get between us, putting his hands out.

  “Not the time and place,” Jagg said. “Sorry.”

  I dropped the broken bottle and it shattered some more.

  “Fine,” I said. “If Austin is dead… I’m going to slit your throat, Layne.”

  “Typical,” Layne said. “Kill first, ask later.”

  I froze again. My fingers were twitching. If this were a month ago, I would have already had my gun out. I would have pulled the trigger, emptying the clip into Layne. But after meeting Everly and after my fuck up kill with Tommy, I learned to take a breath. Bad enough I had Tommy’s family on my ass (literally with that crazy bitch, Jade) and I had the eyes of Devil Call MC watching me like they didn’t trust a word I said or action I had to offer.

  So I shook my head and pointed to the door.

  “Go,” I said to Jagg. “Take me there. Right now.”

  “Move it!” Buzzy yelled.

  We piled outside and got on our rides. The engines fired up one by one, calls of thunder and growls of beasts. I took the lead, letting Jagg ride next to me, giving me a path. I felt Layne right on my ass the entire time, knowing he wanted to be up front too. I didn’t give a fuck though.

  Sending Austin out alone? Fuck, maybe that’s what we used to do, but not anymore. We couldn’t risk it. Not with Jony and Rilen Lost after us. Not with Los Ahn pissed that I survived prison. Not with me taking three bullets and Layne and Everly almost getting shot at. And not with fucking Detective John out there, lurking. The prick hadn’t been around lately and I wasn’t sure if that bothered me worse than him appearing around every twist and turn.

  Jagg took us far out in Brocke, past the town and commercial areas, where it was vast and appeared quiet. There were a lot souls out there, skeletons buried in the dirt, some still with flesh being eaten away by time. Punishment and justice served in a delicate and meaningful way. The outlaw kind of justice. The only kind that mattered. It was where a lot of guys in leather cuts would end up someday, perhaps an oasis of two wheeled death.

  But it wouldn't be my fucking graveyard. Not yet at least. I wouldn’t end up in that dirt. If I was going to go down, it would be with pride, honor, and hopefully in a way that would leave nothing left to find or to bury.

  Jagg swung a hard left and cut into the dirt. We were about a mile from the shithole hangout of the Rilen Lost. The motorcycles kicked up dust and the cries of our engines would easily be heard for miles. That meant no chance on ambushing whoever had Austin. But this wasn’t a revenge mission. This was to hopefully save one of our brothers.

  When I spotted black dots on the horizon, I throttled harder and reached for a gun. I started to shoot because that was my style. I figured if there was any chance of saving Austin - if he already wasn’t fucking dead - it would scare the assholes away that had him.

  As we closed in, I saw three guys get on motorcycles and start to ride off. They purposely spun their back tires, kicking left to right, over and over, creating a huge cloud of dust and dirt. I came to a stop and a few of the guys behind me flew by, trying to stop. Three prospects crashed into each other, dropping their motorcycles, crying out. Buzzy smacked into the back of Drave’s ride.

  “Fucking asshole,” Drave yelled.

  “Fuck you,” Buzzy growled. “It’s a cloud of dust.”

  “Where the fuck is Austin?” Layne asked.

  We all killed our engines as the dust died down.

  “Should we pursue?” Ash asked.

  “Not worth it,” I said. “They’re gone. We know who it was.”

  Then came a wet gurgling sound. It was bloody and it made my stomach turn. But it meant that Austin was alive.

  I ran forward, and through the dust I was finally able to find Austin. He was on the ground, on his side. His arms were limp and twisted. Christ, he looked fucking dead. I fell to my knees and rolled him to his back.

  That’s when I saw what the fuck had happened to him.

  He was obviously beaten up, but there was a gaping hole in his left cheek.

  His jaw was moving, his eyes looking glossy and confused.

  “Fuck, brother,” I said. “It’s Talon. I’m right here, man. You’re safe. We’ve got your back.”

  The rest of the guys fell around Austin, talking to him.

  Color came back to Austin’s face and his eyes started to blink.

  “We have to get him to a hospital,” Jagg said. “He’ll bleed out and go into shock.”

  “He’s in fucking shock,” Buzzy growled.

  “No,” Austin said. “No shock. It fuggin’ hurs… they fuggin’… they wanned… my eye…”

  “Don’t talk, man,” I said. I put my hand to his shoulder. I lowered my head to his and let out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, bro. I’ll fix this. Just take deep breaths. Relax a little. Don’t think about a thing.”

  I looked back at Layne and nodded. “Can you figure this out?”

  “Call a goddamn ambulance,” Ash said.

  “Out here?” Jagg asked. “It’ll take hours.”

  “Then he needs to ride,” I said. “Somebody fucking hold him and get him to the hospital.”

  We all worked together, lifting Austin to his feet. His head swiveled a few times and he lost his balance. I held him tight and was damn ready to just start carrying him, but he snapped back to life. He blinked fast and gave a nod.

  “I… good…”

  I trusted Layne
to keep Austin standing. I took off my leather cut and then tore off my shirt. I rolled it up tight and placed it against Austin’s face. I wrapped it around his mouth, like I was goddamn gagging him. I tied it behind his head.

  “That should help, man,” I said. “I need you on the back of Layne’s motorcycle. Hold him tight and rest your head against his back. Okay, man?”

  Austin nodded.

  There were tears in the guy’s fucking eyes. It got to me, seeing him like that. He was our rat. He was the one who went out and did some dirty work for the club. Sneaking into other charters and digging up dirt. Murdering people when we needed it. Hurting people, sometimes innocent people, for the greater good of the MC. Austin was a tough guy with a tough soul, but he looked broken right then.

  I wanted to ride straight to the Rilen Lost dive bar and blow the fucking thing to pieces. But I couldn’t do that now. We had to get Austin to safety, and fast. I couldn’t deal with another death.

  We all got back on our motorcycles and put Layne in the middle. We kept a tight formation and rode slower than I wanted to. But it was needed, in case Austin let go or there was a problem.

  And of course there had to be a fucking problem.

  Two miles from the hospital, there was a car waiting for us. Turned sideways, the driver leaning against the door. A fucking toothpick in his mouth, a white to-go container on the roof of the car. When he saw us, he took off his sunglasses and opened his arms.

  Fucking Detective John.

  I pointed to Buzzy, Jagg, and Drave. I yelled for them to keep going with Layne and get Austin to the hospital. They all cut to the left and blew by Detective John. That did not make the man happy.

  I stopped and put a hand out, signaling the rest of the guys to just stay far away. They didn’t need to deal with the detective.

  As I walked toward him, he reached up and grabbed the to-go box off the roof of his car.

  “You know, I feel bad,” he said. “Last time we had a private chat, I brought you leftovers and then took them back. That wasn’t very nice of me.”

  “You followed us for that?” I asked. “Must be a hell of a turkey club.”

  “Here,” Detective John said. “It’s delicious.”

  I took the container and opened it. The smell got to me before I saw the mold. I dropped the container and stepped back. The moldy food hit the ground and splattered.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “The same turkey club,” Detective John said. “It was just killing me that I didn’t give it to you.”

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  “What? You’re not going to eat that?”

  “Look, if you don’t have…”

  “Oh, I have,” Detective John said. “I’ve been digging, Talon. Keeping busy. Sorry I haven’t been around as much. I know how much that hurts you.”

  I made fists. Detective John grinned. He was digging at me. Trying to grab at the past. None of it mattered. Nobody knew shit and it was best left that way.

  “I’ve been in contact with the company that installed the security cameras…”

  “Security cameras?” I asked.

  “Oh, come on,” Detective John said. “From the back lot where you shot and killed Tommy?”

  “You’re still on that?” I asked. “Sorry to hear that. You’ll find nothing.”

  “I disagree.” He took the toothpick from his mouth and dropped it to the ground. “You see, that company claims to have backup files of all footage. Just in case of a fire or loss of data. Or if someone conveniently steals the tapes.”

  He grinned and I wanted to scream.

  Jade told me that she and her brother Vaughn had the tapes. That they were the only ones that knew about the tapes.

  “Good for you,” I said. “You did your job. Too bad you can’t bend down far enough and blow yourself. You deserve it.”

  “Maybe I’ll just arrest your little sweet thing, Everly. Toss her in the back of my car. Show her what a man can do to a woman…”

  The words crushed me in a way I never thought possible. I inched closer to Detective John, thinking about knocking him the fuck out. Right there in the middle of the road.

  “Come on,” he whispered. “Hit me. Just like you did last time. Except I’m not drunk. I have my badge. And a gun. And I’d love to take you in.”

  My hands were balled into fists. I could feel my nerves pinching, shaking. Detective John would have nothing on the security footage. He’d never find a damn thing, unless Jade and Vaughn handed them over. But I knew they wouldn’t do that. Jade and Vaughn had money and power… and they wanted more.

  Fuck.

  “Do it,” Detective John said. “I’m ready. I’d rather you inside. Do you know why?”

  “So you could sleep at night?”I asked. “So you think you could be high and mighty? You took down Devil Call MC…”

  “No,” Detective John whispered. He reached up and patted my cheek. “So I can protect you. Keep you away from this shit.”

  I stepped back. “Who the fuck are you? Keep me away from what shit? You want to see the scars from the last time I was inside?”

  “No, no, Talon. You go to the right prison. It’s like a vacation. Beautiful. I could even bring Everly in there once in a while. Hell, I’d share her with you.”

  I was ice. I told myself to take a deep breath. To let it go. Force it away.

  “I better get going,” Detective John said. “I have a meeting. Paperwork for your good friend, Hollis.”

  “He was murdered,” I said. “And you’re doing nothing about it.”

  Detective John slowly put on his sunglasses. “I can reassure you, Talon, that we are deeply saddened by your loss and we are working as hard as we possibly can to ensure some kind of resolution to this senseless and tragic murder.”

  He smiled and then climbed into his car.

  As the car drove away, a chill went through my body again.

  Murder waited all around, inside or out.

  I looked back and gave a nod.

  I hope Austin survives this… either way, I’m going to gut Jony. From his throat to his asshole.

  __

  3.

  (Everly)

  When the clubhouse was quiet, it left me feeling more alone than I’d ever felt in my life. Just standing there looking around the place. Sunlight cutting through the windows, specks of dust floating and dancing like a gentle snowfall. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw snow. Years ago when I took a trip with my grandmother to the mountains to ski.

  But this wasn’t winter. This wasn’t snow. And this certainly wasn’t peaceful.

  One of the pool tables was almost sideways, probably from someone trying to fight someone else. Next to me at the bar, the prospects were hard at work, making sure the clubhouse was stocked with good booze, cold beer, and was as clean as could be expected for a motorcycle club.

  There were still patched in members lingering around. From what I had gathered during my time with Devil Call MC was that there were different unspoken levels of being patched in. Just because you wore the logo on your back didn’t mean you were protected or safe. Prospects were treated like bitches, which was their job. To learn and earn their way in. And a lot of them were killed before they could even think about wearing a patch. The guys left in the lot and clubhouse were there to be nothing but bodies. In case there was an attack. If that happened, they would put themselves on the line to protect the clubhouse. Getting into fights, getting stabbed, taking a bullet, getting arrested and surviving jail time, these were all ways to prove to the MC that you were serious and wanted more responsibility.

  I took a seat at the bar, sitting backward on the barstool. My dream was still floating around my mind. My body tingling, aching, the taste of Talon in my mouth and body. Yet it was Layne who invaded my mind.

  Each time they left, it left a piece of my heart shaking with fear. There would come a time when they’d all leave and come back short. It wasn’t a worr
y, it was a fact. And the way Talon and Layne were, they put themselves in front of everyone else. There were plenty of people who wanted to kill Talon. I used to question why, but the more I got to know Talon, the more I understood it. Everything he did - good and bad - was for the better of the MC. That’s just how it went.

  “Do you need a drink, ma’am?”

  I looked over my shoulder and a clean cut prospect stood there smiling at me. He had blue eyes, pimples on his chin, and didn’t seem old enough to be serving booze. He wore a black shirt and a black leather cut over that with nothing on it. I wondered how many other prospects had worn that cut. How many had been killed wearing it. Prospects weren't allowed to take their cuts with them when they died. They were left to be dead and nothing else. Patched in members were buried or burned with their cuts, depending on the club’s decision on how to handle the body.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Twenty-two, ma’am.”

  Ma’am?

  It seemed like yesterday I was just some whore in the clubhouse. A set of legs with a pussy between. If I wanted a drink, it was taken care of by whatever member had their eyes on me. Fill me with booze, bend me over, and take care of your business.

  Not anymore. Not since Talon got out and claimed me.

  Now I was ma’am.

  “Why this life?” I asked the prospect.

  “Why not?” he threw back at me. “What am I going to do? Take my business degree… and what? Go sell insurance? Work at a bank? Find a corner cubicle and sit there for years and have nothing to show for myself? This is real life. This is something exciting.”

  Exciting.

  That was one word for it.

  I turned my back to the prospect. I didn’t have to be nice to the guy. If I wanted something I’d demand it. He’d get it for me. That was the power I had now because I fucked Talon when he commanded it.

  The doors to the clubhouse opened and the guys started to come in.

  Jagg, Drave, and Buzzy were first.

  Then came Layne. With blood on his shirt.

  I jumped up.

 

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