Retaliation: A Twisted Mayhem MC Novel

by Cat Mason

  Chapter Seven

  Roanne

  “Fine,” I bite out, yanking my wrist free of Jensen’s grasp. Looking up at Shy and Doc, I force a smile. “It was nice meeting you.”

  Before anyone can respond, I turn and storm in the opposite direction of the stairs. Refusing to give him the opportunity to lock me away in his room again, I bolt out the front door. Making my way down the steps, I head for where Jensen’s bike is parked. I don’t need to turn around to know he is following me, I can feel him.

  “Roanne!” he roars, clearly pissed off. Good, because so am I. Suddenly, I am filled with anger and there is no one I want to dump it all on right now more than him. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Grabbing my arm, he whips me around to face him so fast that I almost face plant into his chest.

  “To clear my fucking head,” I bite out, angrily, shoving at him. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, at the moment, and need a minute to process this shit storm. I sure as hell don’t need your help for that.”

  Gripping my arms, Jensen shoves me against the side of the clubhouse. When I struggle against him, his grip tightens almost painfully. “Careful, Duchess. I like a good fight,” he grounds out, leaning in close enough to nip at my bottom lip. Rocking into me, he grinds his erection into my belly. “You’re makin’ me hard,” he whispers, his mouth moving to my ear. “Tastin’ those fuckin’ lips only made me hungry for more.”

  “That’s not happenin’,” I reply, shaking my head. “What happened downstairs was a mistake.”

  “Baby,” he breathes, amusement filling his voice. Pinning me tightly between his body and the wall, he grazes my earlobe with his teeth. “You can lie to yourself all you want. But you can’t expect me to buy what you’re sellin’. Bet your sweet ass if I slid my fingers into your pussy, you’d be wet and ready for me.”

  Closing my eyes, my knees wobble slightly, but I refuse to back down. “Bet your ass, if you did,” I reply, doing my best to appear unaffected. “I’d snap off that hand and shove it up your ass.”

  “That fire doesn’t turn me off, Roanne,” he taunts, his breath rushing over my skin making me shiver. “It excites me.”

  “Sorry to interrupt.” My eyes fly open, landing on a smirking Colt. Clearing his throat, he holds out a black cell phone. “You’ve got a call, Prez.”

  Jensen releases his hold on me and turns to grab the phone. Dragging air into my lungs, I wobble slightly at the loss of his body before sagging back to the wall again. The two men quickly exchange a few hushed words. Putting the phone to his ear, Jensen nods and heads across the lot toward a building surrounded by several parked vehicles and bikes.

  “Something wrong?” I ask, meeting Colt’s deep blues.

  “Club business.” Stepping closer, he presses his hand to my back and steers me back toward the clubhouse. “It’s all good.”

  “Please.” The word rushes out of me, sounding almost frantic. “Can we stay outside?”

  Colt scans the lot before looking down at me. “I don’t see why not.” Blowing out a breath, he nods his head. “Long as you don’t give me any shit,” he adds, giving me a small smile.

  “I won’t,” I assure him, relieved that I won’t be cooped up in Jensen’s room again, for who knows how long, while he handles his so called ‘club business’.

  “Good,” Colt laughs. “Because if you do, I’ve been told to hog tie your ass and lock you in a closet.”

  “What?” I shriek. Stopping mid-step, I turn on my heel to face him, my jaw dropping.

  Wrapping an arm around me, he tugs me into his side and laughs long and hard. “Breathe, girl, breathe. Just fuckin’ with ya.”

  Colt navigates us around the side of the main building, toward a large steel shed looking area. In the center, a large, iron, fire pit sits unlit, surrounded by several long picnic tables. In the corner, Huckleberry sits in a large wooden rocking chair, smoking a cigar, his booted feet propped up on the edge of one of the picnic table benches. Lying beside him is a big black Labrador, his attention all on the large bone he is chewing on.

  “You get the stuff?” Huck asks, looking up at Colt.

  “Stopped by on my way in this morning,” he replies, pulling a small manila envelope out of his back pocket. Extending his hand, Colt arches a brow. “Be careful, Denver said this batch is the real deal.”

  My eyes go to the envelope. Swallowing hard, I shift uneasily from foot to foot. Oh, my God. Am I standing here watching a drug deal? Does this make me an accomplice?

  Blowing out a cloud of smoke, Huck snatches the envelope from his fingers and peeks inside. “Need to test the product.” Sitting up and dropping his feet to the ground, Huck beams up at us. Just as I am about to freak the fuck out and more than likely end up tied wrist to ankles in a closet, Huck removes a small rectangle package wrapped in black and red paper.

  “Oh God,” I laugh, relieved that he isn’t holding a syringe or baggie of something that would possibly get us all locked up for the next ten years. “I thought it was something illegal.”

  “In some places,” Huck replies, waggling his brows. “They are. These are specially engineered firecrackers that make those M-80s, the law gets so pissy about, look like child’s play.” Dropping the envelope to the table, he pushes to his feet and moves to the edge of the shelter. His smile only grows when he spots Doc, Schrader, and another man loading big cloth sacks and stacks of boxes into the back of a black cargo van. Removing the cigar from his mouth with one hand, my eyes widen when I realize what he is about to do. “Fire in the hole, you pretty bastard!” Lighting the fuse on the end of the package, he chucks it in the direction of the guys.

  The package of firecrackers erupts into a spark-filled round of insanely loud popping that sounds like some kind of automatic weapon firing just as it slides toward Schrader’s feet. Panic floods my blood stream. I scream, my entire body going rigid as I attempt to shield my ears with my shaking hands.

  “Motherfuckin’ shit ass whore!” Schrader shouts, dropping a sack to the ground and diving into the back of the van for cover. The dog shoots passed us all, yelping as he dives into the sidecar of Huck’s bike.

  “Bullet,” Huck laughs, nudging me with his elbow. “Damned dog’s a pussy.”

  Flashbacks from yesterday flood my mind, everything in me screaming for me to run like hell. Not wanting to call attention to myself, I take a step back, then a few more, until I am fully back beneath the roof of the shelter, beside one of the supporting beams. Jensen hauls ass around the corner, his eyes frantic as people begin to pour out of the clubhouse, everyone looking ready for battle until they take in the scene. Laughter quickly fills the air. Except for Jensen. His now stone-cold expression gives nothing away.

  “You stupid shithead” Doc says, whipping around to glare our way. His face is blood red, the vein in the side of his neck bulging in time with his steps as he storms toward us. “Either quit fuckin’ around and help us load the damn shipment, or stay out of my goddamn way. We’re already runnin’ late.”

  “Quit your bitchin’, woman!” Huck waves him off, puffing on his cigar again. “Nobody runs on military time around here but you. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Doc steps up to Huck, meeting him toe to toe, his fists balled at his sides. “Shit ain’t fuckin’ funny, Brother.”

  “Oh yeah?” Huck challenges, arching a brow. “Then why am I laughin’, Brother?”

  “Keep it up, motherfucker,” Doc seethes, baring his teeth. “You’ll be chokin’ on your teeth.”

  “Enough!” Jensen shouts storming toward them, his entire body now shaking with rage. Shoving his way between them, he stares Huck down. “Not one goddamn thing funny about throwin’ explosives at a vehicle carrying ten thousand dollars in fucking illegal booze.” His eyes move to mine, his fists tightening at his side. “Especially not when someone’s nerves are shit over the explosion she witnessed yesterday.”

  Immediately, the laughter stops and everyone’s eyes are focus
ed my way. I tense even more, my entire body wound so tightly, I feel I could snap at any second. Huck turns, his face falling the moment he meets my eyes. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I wasn’t thinkin’.”

  “It’s okay, Huck.” Forcing myself to breathe, I hold up my hands and attempt a smile. “Really. I’m fine.”

  Sadness fills his eyes, and he nods. “Aren’t we all, Sweetheart.” Shifting around Jensen, Huck moves toward the van. “Let’s go do this damn drop. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we head back to Shadow Ridge again to cook up another batch.”

  “No one rides alone,” Jensen announces, glancing around the lot. “We’ve got enemies waiting for an opportunity to strike again and the damn Feds will be hittin’ the ground in Legion Falls anytime. Watch your asses. Can’t afford to be any deeper in bullshit than we already are.”

  The crowd begins to disperse as Jensen makes his way over to me. “Sorry about that,” he says, running his hands up my arms. “Huck’s crazy, but mostly harmless.”

  Glancing over Jensen’s shoulder, I watch as Huck helps the others load the remaining boxes into the back of the van. Then she steps into view in the tightest, shortest, bright pink leather mini dress I have ever seen. Miracle. Hitching her hand on her hip, she stares me down, her face all twisted up like she has spent every minute since I last saw her, drowning in lemon juice and jealousy.

  What the fuck did I do to deserve the side eye from the club’s bitter bitch?

  “My nerves may be frazzled, Jensen,” I reply as Miracle purses her overly glossy lips she has painted up to match that ridiculous dress at me in disgust. “But it’s not Huck’s doing.” Ignoring the whore who’s trying to initiate some sort of pissing contest, I meet Jensen’s concern filled eyes. “I’m worried about my Dad.” Laughing uncomfortably, I shake my head. “It’s weird even saying that because I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever had to worry about him. I don’t know what’s worse,” I breathe. “Thinking he was burned alive in that car, or finding out that it wasn’t him and not knowing if I’ll ever see him again. And…”

  If I’m next…

  The bone chilling fear that begins spreading through my body has me unable finish my sentence. If I do, it will become too real for me to compartmentalize my feelings and focus on anything else.

  “We’re going to find him. And I promise—,” Releasing his hold on my arms, he steps closer and gently cups my face. His eyes soften, causing my breath to catch in my throat. “No one touches you.”

  “Okay,” I breathe, covering his hands with my own.

  “You hungry?” he asks, brushing his thumb over my cheek. My stomach rumbles the moment he mentions food. He chuckles. “Why don’t you go see what Shy’s got cookin’ in the kitchen? I’ll be right behind you.”

  Dropping my hand, I nod. Leaning in, Jensen quickly kisses my forehead before releasing me. Turning, he heads in the direction of the van. Shaking off my nerves, I blow out a breath, then make my way toward the clubhouse.

  The smell of frying meat and the faint sound of pots and pans banging draws my attention to a partially opened door behind the bar. “Shy?” I call out as I cross the room.

  The door slams behind me, making me jump. Whipping around, I meet Miracle’s arched brow and appraising gaze. “Don’t let his kindness fool you,” Miracle says, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. Tapping her chin with her index finger, she shakes her head. “Stone could never be interested in a little mouse like you.” Taking a step closer, she runs her hand up and down her body like a tacky display model on a late-night infomercial. “He already has everything he needs right here.”

  “I’m not in the mood for this, Miracle.” Turning my back to her, I round the bar, heading for the opened door that hopefully leads to the kitchen.

  “Want some friendly advice?”

  “No,” I snap. “I don’t want anything from you.”

  “Don’t turn your back on me when I’m talkin’ to you, bitch,” she grounds out, angrily. “I’ve been waitin’ a long time to make my move. When it comes to Stone, stay the hell outta my way.”

  I freeze. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly as I open my eyes and turn around to face her. “Call me bitch again and I’ll bash in that turned down nose of yours.” Arching my brow, I look her up and down. “Oh, and just between us, you might want to rethink that whole bubblegum dominatrix look. You look more like a drug addicted Prostitute Barbie.”

  Moving closer, she smiles, rage burning in her blue eyes. “Don’t try to run with the big dogs, Mouse,” she warns, jabbing me in the chest with her finger nail. “You’ll lose. That damsel in distress card only works for so long. Right now, he’s drawn in by your big doe eyes, like you’re some new shiny toy. It’s pitiful, really. But your newness will wear off, it always does, and he’ll get bored with you and your games.” Brushing my hair from my shoulder, she leans in closer. “But, if you’re lucky, maybe one of the other guys will want his sloppy seconds.”

  “Isn’t that why they keep you around?” I bite out, shoving her away.

  “You little bitch,” she growls, lunging at me. Wrapping her fingers around my throat, she slams me back into the wall.

  Bringing up my leg, I knee her in the stomach before stomping down hard on her foot. Miracle screams, her grip loosening around my neck enough for me to wrestle her away. My fist collides with her jaw, sending her stumbling back on her heels. Without missing a beat, I dive on top of her, sending us both crashing to the floor. Pinning her lower body down with my legs, I take out my frustrations on her face with my fists. Clawing at me with her nails, she screams in fury as she attempts to fight back. “Stupid whore!” I shout, hitting her again, splitting her lip.

  Yanking a handful of my hair, she slams the side of my face into the end corner of the bar. Taking advantage of her cheap shot, she shifts us and rolls me beneath her. Wrapping her hands around my throat again, she slams my head to the floor. My vision spins, but I don’t stop fighting to get free. “Fucking bitch,” she grounds out, her chest heaving as she releases one hand, but tightens her grip with the other. “I should cut your throat.”

  “Might wanna rethink that.”

  Looking over, Miracle freezes. Tilting my head, I see Jensen standing in the open doorway, his nostrils flaring as he draws his gun. Stepping closer, he aims it at her head. “Let her go,” he seethes. “Now.”

  Miracle’s hold on me releases immediately. Pushing to her feet, she straightens her dress. “I didn’t want to be rough with her, Stone,” she coos, sauntering his way as I sit up. “But she left me no choice. She attacked me.” Moving his way, she batts her lashes and flashes him a smile.

  Jensen charges. Grabbing her by the throat, he slams her into the wall beside the door. She gasps, clawing at his fingers with both hands. Tears stream down her face as he presses the gun to her temple. “Just because I’ve never killed a woman before,” he growls, gritting his teeth, “Doesn’t mean that I won’t.” She lets out a strangled cry and my heart nearly stops.

  “Jensen!” I shout frantically, pushing to my feet. “Don’t,” I plead, not wanting to see anyone else die. “Please.”

  His eyes move to me quickly before zoning back in on her. “A piece of ass does not call the shots in my clubhouse,” he grounds out. “Roanne is under club protection.” Miracle’s eyes widen. “You know what that means.” She nods, though it wasn’t a question. Seeming satisfied, he releases his hold on her and tucks his gun away inside his cut. Slumping to the floor, Miracle sobs as she gasps for breath. “Get your rancid fuckin’ pussy off my compound,” he spits, not even looking at her. “If you ever show your face here again, I’ll let her empty an entire clip into your skull.”

  “You heard the man,” Schrader says, stepping inside, and helping her to her feet. “You’re out, Sweetheart. Don’t let the door hit ya where every man has dicked ya.”

  Yanking my hands through my hair, I turn and head for the stairs. I need some room to brea
the before I lose my fucking mind. Every waking moment has been one insane thing after another. I honestly don’t know how much more I can take.

  It pisses me off that my feet are heading towards the very same room I begged not to go back to just moments ago. However, the alternative of going outside and being anywhere near Miracle probably isn’t the best idea. I may not want her dead, but I wouldn’t turn down getting in a few more punches.

  Walking into the room, I head straight for the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, I take stock of myself, happy to see that I look to have come out looking a hell of a lot better than Miracle did. Especially once Jensen was done with her.

  Heading back into the bedroom, I head for the mini fridge in the corner, groaning when I see the only thing in it is two beers and a half empty bottle of vodka. “Fuck it,” I grumble, grabbing one of the beers. Twisting off the top, I toss it to the wastebasket and take a long drink.

  “Breakfast of champions?” Jensen asks from the doorway.

  “Yeah,” I laugh sarcastically. Walking over, I drop down onto the mattress and meet his eyes. “Pretty sure I’ve earned it.”

  “No arguments here,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “Look, about before—”

  “How about we just forget it?” I ask, interrupting him, then down another swallow from the bottle. “The last thing I want to do is focus my time and energy on hashing out a bunch of shit that isn’t going to help get my father back.”

  Nodding, Jensen holds out his hand. “Then let’s get to work.”

  Chapter Eight

  Stone

  The moment I spotted Miracle following Ro into the clubhouse, I knew shit was about to go down. Miracle viewed Roanne as a threat and was taking it upon herself to issue some kind of warning. Being the stubborn woman that she is, I knew Ro wouldn’t take any of her shit and would push back.

  About the same time I got the gavel, Miracle showed up at the clubhouse for a party and aggressively began trying to get on my dick. It didn’t take much to see her for what she really is. The woman isn’t out for a ride and she sure as hell isn’t in love. My guess is she wants to be attached to the patch. To do that, she became obsessed with getting my dick, thinking that my ring and my last name will follow. No man in his right mind wants that sort of crazy getting her hands on any of the three.