Hidden Heat (Brothers of Mayhem #1)

by Carla Swafford

  “Remember. I’m on your side.” She ran her hand down his arm.

  “Yeah, you are.” He hooked his hand on the back of her neck and drew her lips back to his. They kissed deep. Then his stomach growled.

  She burst out laughing. “Sorry. Let’s go out and eat. We’ve gone through all the odds and ends I have here. The last two eggs we had around midnight last night. I usually get breakfast at work, and Storm only has Lucky Charms.”

  He frowned. “How can anyone eat that stuff? The boy has some serious issues.” He kissed her quick and headed toward the front door, holding her hand and dragging her behind him.

  Outside, her car sat in its usual spot.

  “Stonewall changed his mind?”

  “I told him my old lady needed her grocery-getter.” He grinned when she swung at him and missed.

  “Thanks. At least you have the lingo down.” She ran her hand down the side of the old Buick. “I’m not sure how much groceries I can buy with me missing work today.” She shielded her eyes; the day appeared to be a hot and humid one. June was around the corner. “I’ll need to go in tomorrow.” She’d used her last couple of minutes on her cellphone, which she usually saved for emergencies, to call in to work. She hoped he got the hint.

  “I’ll see what I can do to get you some money.” He threw his arm over her shoulder and squeezed. She liked how he touched her all the time now. The feeling was mutual. She had a problem keeping her hands to herself.

  Maybe she should feel funny about taking money for something she would do for free. Bringing down the Brothers would solve so many of her problems, but she needed the money. It sucked being broke all the time. Only rich people could have pride. With extra coming in, she planned to save some and possibly move to Birmingham where no one knew her or her family. Could she still see Thorn? After he finished, where would he be assigned next? He couldn’t stay here. Too many people had connections with the Brothers.

  He released her and straddled his motorcycle. As soon as she settled in behind him, helmet on, he cranked it and they headed down the road.

  Ten minutes later, they slid into one side of a booth at the local Waffle House. They wanted to keep touching, even if it was only their thighs and hands.

  One of the nice things about the restaurant was that, no matter the time, they served breakfast. She was never a big fan of the place, but considering how hungry she was, she’d eat the stale Lucky Charms.

  After ordering, she slipped away to the restroom. As she walked back to their booth, his gaze remained on her, as if nothing else mattered but watching her. She liked how he had his arms spread out on the back of the seat, showing off his tattoos. The ink wasn’t just designs that he thought were cool. Not that she had asked about them yet. They didn’t have a theme, like some citizens tried for, but appeared to mean something. A lot of bikers did that.

  When the waitress brought them large plates of eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, and grits, with toast on the side, she blinked. She didn’t remember ordering half of that.

  “I changed your order while you were in the restroom. You need something more than a bowl of grits in your stomach. Who knows when we’ll get to eat again.”

  She speared the fluffy eggs. “What did Stonewall say?”

  Thorn scooped up some grits and smeared them on a piece of toast. “We’re to meet at the clubhouse tomorrow morning around nine.” He folded the bread and bit into it. The buttery stuff dripped out of the other side.

  “We?”

  “Yeah. They believe cops are less likely to think we’re up to no good when women are around.” He bit into a strip of bacon. His teeth were so white and straight. Another giveaway. Most of the Brothers had crooked, brown teeth, with a few missing, all from fighting, smoking crack, or forgetting plain old oral hygiene. Hey, dental insurance was not at the top of their list.

  How could he look so sexy eating? The few times she caught her reflection in the window, she had all the sexiness of a cow munching on cud.

  “Nine, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “That should give us a lot of time to catch up on sleep.”

  A grin spread across his face. “Sleep? You sure that’s what you want?”

  “Overrated?”

  He nodded.

  Before Thorn said anything more, a low-pitched, accented voice said, “I thought I recognized that piece of shit in the parking lot.”

  “Angel.” From Thorn’s flat tone, whoever had walked in wasn’t someone he wanted to see.

  She turned and swallowed a gasp. The man sliding into the other side of the booth oozed machismo. Flashing, dark eyes matched a grin that any Hollywood star would envy. His nearly black hair hung straight to broad shoulders, while the five-o’clock shadow kept him from being too pretty. He folded his arms over his chest, and she noticed tattooed across his knuckles the words “Lost Soul.” How appropriate. He looked like one.

  When her curious gaze returned to his face, the stranger’s eyes slowly lifted from checking out her breasts. The term tit for tat came to mind, and she raised one eyebrow. His amusement was obvious in the way the corners of his mouth wanted to curl. He nodded and said, “Hola, chiquita.”

  Cassidy knew the type. They believed because of their good looks that all women would fall all over themselves to do whatever they wanted. Others might, but not her. The man she wanted sat next to her. She scooted closer to Thorn and looked away, ignoring the arrogant bastard.

  “Keep your fucking eyes off my old lady. What do you want?”

  Was that real anger or part of his act as a Brother?

  “Ever since you left after your father died, your manners…” He clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Mama will be disappointed.”

  What? Another brother? From a different father? How many were there in the Savalas family?

  “Leave your mother out of this.” Thorn placed his arm around her and squeezed. Before the men could say more, the waitress stopped and asked for Angel’s order. He smiled, flirted, and ordered a soda. As soon as the woman floated away, Thorn said, “I’m guessing that you showing your ugly face here isn’t for us to catch up. I heard you’ve been hanging around the Thirty-Second gang.”

  “For me, it was an easy decision. Most of my cousins found a home with them. What about you? I heard your uncle likes partying with those dickheads at the clubhouse. You going to join their little gang?”

  Thorn leaned forward. “Not a fucking gang. Club. Call it a club.” He tugged at his vest. “Cousins, heh? I know for a fact you only have one cousin in Alabama. So cut the act.”

  Angel’s gaze centered on the patches. “I see. It’s like that.” The Coke was placed in front of him. The waitress smiled big when he winked at her. He picked up the cold glass and drank half. “Be sure that you don’t wear that around Thirty-Second and I-65. Hate for someone to shoot your ass.”

  “Too late,” Thorn bit out.

  “What do you mean?” Angel eyed Thorn as if looking for a wound.

  “We were fired at by a black sedan.”

  Cassidy noticed he didn’t give out her name.

  Angel turned toward her. “You look as if you escaped unhurt.”

  “Not exactly. I’ll have a wound to prove it.” She raised her chin.

  A flare of anger shone in his eyes and then it was gone. In an even tone, he said, “Thorn, I came to ask a small favor. From one childhood friend to another.”

  —

  Holding on to his self-control, Thorn tightened his grip on Cass’s shoulder as an assurance that everything would be okay.

  “Go ahead.” Thorn nodded.

  After a brief glance at Cass, Angel said, “Toro is pissed that Stonewall and Trick are cutting him out of the business. For years, our gang has worked with your”—he grinned, giving his cut a once over—“club, and it has been profitable. We want back in. We’ve heard that Trick is providing a new overseas contact for the goods. Meaning more money. There’s room for us.”

  “I don’t know who told
you that I have any sway in this. I was patched in only a couple months ago.” Being a Savalas helped. Most anyone else would’ve been waiting for another half year. At the time, Harper had high-fived everyone around him for days. “So there’s no way I can stick my nose into the Skull’s decision.”

  “I understand. Just tell Stonewall and Trick that we can make life very uncomfortable for the Brothers and the Savalas family concerns. As you know, leather does not protect a biker from bullets.” He finished his soda and stood. “I’ll tell Mama that you’ll come and visit next week. She’ll be upset as it is that you haven’t visited since returning.”

  The man looked at Cass but had enough sense not to push it and flirt again. As soon as he opened the door, Thorn noticed two other men, dressed all in black, follow him to a black sedan with tinted windows. So much like the car that had chased them the day before. The crack about bullets and leather could be coincidence or a subtle admission.

  He’d never believed in coincidences.

  Chapter 12

  Cassidy stood next to his motorcycle as Thorn paced back and forth at the opposite end of the Waffle House, away from the windows. She didn’t let it bother her that he hadn’t wanted her to hear the conversation with his boss.

  When he glanced her way, she knew they were talking about her. Would he tell her later that her payments had been turned down? She needed the money to pay some bills and repair her car. Storm wouldn’t be working on it anymore. Her heart ached at the thought. She shook it away and thought about having a cellphone that didn’t run out of minutes halfway through the month. She smoothed down her tee shirt. When was the last time she bought clothes that someone else hadn’t worn?

  She rolled her eyes. Whoa! She was spending it before she even got it. The amount Thorn had mentioned wasn’t a lot by anyone’s standards, but every dollar counted when a person was paid minimum wage.

  “You ready?”

  She nodded. “What did your boss say?”

  “He’d put in the paperwork. It’ll probably take a few weeks.”

  “Weeks?” She squinted in frustration. The money would be needed soon to cover the portion of the rent that Storm normally paid. He’d always worked odds jobs to help out. Maybe he would come back. Partying all the time and doing whatever you want…Who was she kidding? She’d be lucky to see him on holidays.

  “I could help you out until your check comes in.”

  She smiled and asked, “How long do you have before your job is done?”

  “We really have no idea, but there have been rumblings of finishing the operations soon. Funds are drying up. So a couple weeks to a couple months. Maybe.”

  That wouldn’t be much, but she’d take what she could. She watched Thorn as he adjusted his helmet.

  She asked, “Do we go and tell Stonewall and Trick what Angel said?”

  “I’ve already called Stonewall. He’ll tell my uncle.”

  “So what should we do now? How about going back to my place?” She wiggled her eyebrows, hoping the humor would lighten the mood.

  Even when she slept around, she’d never been the instigator when she was sober. Alcohol and drugs helped. Plus it was easy to go with the flow when she hung around the wrong sort.

  So embarrassment clawed her chest at her poor attempt to come on to him. Her need to have his hands roaming over every inch of her body outweighed any awkward attempts of seduction. What was it about Thorn that heated her blood to the point she wanted to spread her legs each time he looked her way? She did know that when his arms wrapped around her tight, she was happy and content.

  He’d tied a black handkerchief across his nose and mouth like a bandit in a western. The sultry look he shot her way pushed the air out of her lungs. Oh, mercy and goodness. Even as an undercover cop, he was a badass cop.

  “I would love to, sugar, but we’re to be at the clubhouse in an hour. When I spoke to Stonewall, he called a run to Pensacola. He decided he wanted to sink his toes into the white sands.” He held out her helmet. “The Huntsville chapter will be waiting for us there.”

  She hesitated. Going on a run was a whole other kettle of fish. They were never for the weak of heart, and in her case, she’d never done it before. But from what she’d heard, the men were wilder, and hyped on drugs, alcohol, and testosterone. One of the girls she’d been friends with at the time had been gangbanged during that run. The girl ended up in the hospital. A memory she wanted to forget.

  Runs for one percenters were nothing but a way for the club to show off how many members they had, and to strike fear in the local citizens.

  “I have to go to work tomorrow.” Mixed emotions twisted her insides. She wanted more time with him, but not on a run. Going to work wasn’t any type of preference, but a girl needed to eat and have a roof over her head.

  “What time?” He shoved the helmet toward her.

  “Three. I work until midnight.” She took it.

  “We’ll be back before then.” He cranked the bike.

  “I need—”

  He pulled her down by the front of her shirt until his mouth was next to her ear. “I need you.” Her heart momentarily stopped until he continued, “Last night, I could tell they trusted me more than ever. You being with me gives me validation. I can’t do this without you. Please do as I tell you without argument. For once.”

  Then he looked past her and said, “Get the fuck on the bike. I don’t have time for this.”

  His brutal turnaround confused her until a voice came from the direction of the sidewalk. She understood better than most that his role required a tough, no-nonsense attitude. If he showed any weakness, at the least, they could make life horrible for him; at the most, they could kill him. How he treated her in private, for now, was most important.

  “No way to talk to a lady, brother.” Wolf stood with one hip out and hands in his jeans back pockets.

  She’d been unsure of his relationship with his brother, but one thing was sure, Thorn didn’t trust him.

  “None of your fucking business.” Thorn jerked his head at her to get on the bike.

  Feeling it best to comply, she straddled the back and leaned against Thorn’s back.

  “Stonewall has okayed for me to ride along on the run today. Who knows, brother, we might be more than blood brothers soon. I’m partial to the skull and bones on the back of your vest.” He tilted his head. “Yeah. They’d look mighty fine on me.” He chuckled and walked over to a motorcycle.

  She hadn’t heard the roar of Wolf’s motorcycle as it pulled in. She’d been so wrapped up in her need for Thorn that she’d ignored everything around her. Not the best way to be when involved in bringing the bad guys down.

  Once they were on the interstate, she knew he wasn’t giving her the option to stay home. In no time, they pulled up to the clubhouse, and a second later Wolf backed into a space beside them.

  —

  Thorn checked on Cass one more time. If he wasn’t careful, someone would start riding his ass about being pussy-whipped.

  He forced his gaze to Stonewall. The asshole was in his element, giving out orders, treating his men like a bunch of two-year-olds.

  Thorn lit a cigarette, the last one he’d smoke until they stopped in two hours. It would take them four hours to reach the beach.

  “Pair up and be sure to tighten up in the straightaways. If I see anyone show-dogging, I’ll take your fucking bike and place your ass in the chase truck. Everyone saddle up.” The Skull of the Brothers of Mayhem slapped the ass of his current old lady, Tawny. She squealed, twitching her wide ass for everyone’s enjoyment as she marched over to the big Softail that Stonewall rode.

  Thorn nodded for Cass to stand next to his bike. Thankfully, he’d had Wolf add a sissy bar to his bike when he repaired the tank. Due to the mileage and how anal Stonewall acted, if he hadn’t, Cass would be riding in the chase truck with the prospect, Twofer. No way would he let her do that. Twofer was known for being all hands when it came to “helping out” the o
ld ladies. There would’ve been a fight by the time they reached the beach. Then again, they couldn’t take the chance she’d fall off, not only breaking a few bones on the asphalt, but causing a massive pile up of motorcycles.

  Speaking of his brother, Wolf sat backwards on his bike, long legs spread and stretched out as he watched Cass move their way. Thorn didn’t like how his brother was always checking her out. He’d need to set his little brother straight. Shit! What was he thinking? Cass wasn’t his. He took a last puff of his cigarette and threw it down, twisting his foot on the stub with a bit more strength than needed.

  He didn’t care that it was all part of the cover. As long as he played the role of outlaw biker, she’d play his old lady. If he didn’t act jealous, they’d take it as permission to come on to her.

  “You little turd, put your eyes back in your head and turn around. Time for us to get going.” Thorn narrowed his eyes and then matched two birds to his brother’s one.

  He started his bike and waited for Cass to slide in behind him. He was becoming used to her chest being pressed to his back. It felt damn good.

  A little pride filled him as he glanced over his shoulder. Over thirty bikes followed behind. The Huntsville chapter fell in line with the Birmingham mother chapter, swelling the ranks to nearly fifty bikes, many with old ladies holding on tight.

  With a shout above the roaring bikes, he said, “Hold on, baby. You’re about to have the ride of your life.” Her arms tightened around his ribs as they headed toward I-65 and the beach.

  —

  Cassidy loved feeling Thorn’s stomach muscles flex beneath her hands. The other day she’d been so naughty, letting a fingertip drift down to his waistband. She couldn’t help herself. The warmth from his back, the smell of leather and gasoline surrounding her—every fantasy she’d ever had about bad boys had been tied up with motorcycles and the men who rode them.

  She turned her gaze to check out their partner. Wolf stared straight ahead as if he had listened to his brother and planned to keep his gaze away from her.

  Despite knowing she could be seen, she inched her fingers down to his waistband again, but this time she eased one hand lower. His muscles tensed. Her fingers touched a hardness resting on the right. He shifted as if to give her more room.