Hell on Wheels (Kings of Mayhem MC Book 4)

by Penny Dee

  Rage lit up my father’s face as he squared his shoulders and walked toward her. “Let’s not kid ourselves here, Veronica. I’m not the one who’s been sucking cock! It’s just a shame you weren’t sucking the right cock.”

  My father was an intimidating man, but my mother was fierce. “Like you don’t get your cock sucked by every whore who visits the clubhouse,” she yelled. Tears streamed down her face. “Why? Why did you hurt him?”

  I wondered how my mom knew.

  She was holding her phone in one hand. If he was okay, maybe the man had called to warn her.

  My father towered over her, his teeth gritted. “Because that cunt stuck his dick in my wife. And no one…” he grabbed my mom by the arms “…no one gets to fuck my wife but me.”

  My mom’s face brightened with white-hot fury.

  She shook herself free. “I want a divorce!”

  He snarled and walked her backward until her back was against a wall. “There’s only one way you’re leaving this marriage and it’s in a body bag. Do you understand me?”

  “And what would your precious club think about that?” she seethed, her eyes full of loathing, her voice calm but hateful. “They will disown you.”

  He leaned in. “They’d have to prove it first.”

  “I’m not frightened of you, Garrett.”

  Evil was bright in my father’s eyes. “You should be.”

  Swerving off the main street, I steered the Harley toward the playground and killed the engine. Realizing what I’d done, Bull peeled back and signaled for the others to keep going before pulling into the playground car park and parking next to me. He climbed off his bike and walked over to where I was standing.

  “You remember Joey Atwood?” I asked him.

  “Name sounds familiar.”

  I kicked the concrete with my boot. “This spot right here is where my old man beat the fuck out of him with a tire iron.”

  Recollection crossed Bull’s face, and he nodded.

  “He lost all his teeth and sight in one eye,” I said.

  “I remember.”

  “Yet he never pointed the finger at my father.”

  “Your father could be an intimidating man.”

  Yes, he was. But he never intimidated my mother enough for her to leave. They patched things up not long after and came to some kind of weird mutual agreement that strengthened their relationship rather than tore it apart. She never divorced him. She didn’t need to. He made her a widow a few years later.

  “I never understood why she didn’t leave him. But I was kid. I didn’t understand how complicated their relationship was. I guess I still don’t. But I do know they loved each other in their own fucked-up way.” I shook my head. “They loved each other despite knowing what the other was capable of. I don’t doubt my father would’ve killed her. And I don’t doubt my mother would have killed him for trying.”

  I looked toward the horizon. It was late afternoon, and the sun was slowly making its way lower in the sky.

  “Mayor Quinn murdered his wife,” I said calmly. “And then he hid it with a series of distractions, including using the Kings of Mayhem to find the supposed murderer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A murder victim’s spouse is usually the first suspect. Quinn wasn’t eliminated by Bucky or the Kings. He told us he didn’t do it. And then he did everything he could to portray himself as the grieving husband.”

  “Then why tell us she was having an affair?”

  “Because he knew it would come out and throw suspicion on him. Remember, the best defense is offense, so he addressed the evidence before it became a motive.” I could see Bull doing the math. “He pointed us to Satan’s Tribe because he knew they were in town. But they’re not involved in Vander Quinn’s murder. They’re here for Cassidy. I know it. You need to wrap this up without me. I need to get Cassidy out of town.”

  “You can’t be sure about this—”

  “I am sure about this,” I cut him off. “Those men were hired by Barrett Silvermane. So I’m stepping down as SAA, and I’m taking Cassidy as far away from here as possible. He knows she is involved with the Kings.”

  I walked back to my bike and climbed on.

  “Ruger should be your SAA.” I ignited the engine, and the Harley came to life with a rumble. “Also, Laurent wasn’t Vander’s drug dealer. He was her lover. And I’m pretty sure they sold the car for money so they could leave town, not because she owed him money. Keep digging. Laurent’s body will wash up soon. If you keep looking at Mayor Quinn, you’ll find out I’m right.”

  And with that I rode off. I had to get back to Destiny.

  To Cassidy.

  Because she was right.

  Barrett was after her.

  So far he’d just been toying with us. Using Satan’s Tribe as his eyes and ears in Destiny and feeding Cassidy’s fear of him. Tormenting her from afar by using her own fear against her was all a part of his sick torture.

  He was a sick motherfucker.

  And I was going to kill him.

  CASSIDY

  “We can go anywhere we want, Cassi. Anywhere at all. It will be just like old times.” Missy talked at a hundred miles an hour, but not even her relentless chatter could distract me from the violent panic taking hold of me.

  Barrett was here. Probably watching. Waiting.

  As soon as I entered the cabin, I felt heartsick. I was already missing Chance, and I hadn’t even left yet. That was when I realized, for the first time in my life, another emotion overpowered my fear of Barrett—the fear of losing Chance. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Couldn’t help but feel him in every room I walked through. This little cabin held so many wonderful memories of us together, even for such a short time.

  I glanced down at the rug on the floor, the one where we’d made love for hours during the storm while the rain beat down on the roof and rattled the windows—and then to the kitchen counter, where he’d made me come with such ferocity I’d broken a nail against the granite.

  Walking into the kitchen, I looked out the window to the two deck chairs sitting side-by-side, overlooking the water, and thought about the nights we’d spent under the stars, getting to know one another. Both of us slowly letting down our walls as we grew more comfortable, more trusting of each other.

  A wave of heartache crashed through me. How could it be the end?

  How could it be that I would never see him again?

  Swallowing hard, I stared out past the sparkling river to the fishing cottage and felt tears well in my eyes. I recalled my first few days here and how we would sit on the deck, how every part of me was already fully aware of his intensity. Of his prowess. How I had lusted after him without even realizing what I was lusting after. That he was so much more than what I could ever have imagined. I began to physically ache and thought about how he would react when he found out I was gone. How deeply hurt he would be, especially after what he’d shared with me last night.

  I love you.

  This was going to hurt him.

  I will do anything and everything to protect you.

  My heart hurt. No. I couldn’t do that to him. And I couldn’t do that to me. Not anymore. It was time to stop running. I was ready to banish my fears to make room for a chance at happiness.

  Missy walked up behind me. “You’re not leaving are you?”

  I paused long enough to let her know she was right.

  I couldn’t see her but somehow I knew she was nodding.

  Turning around, I looked at her. “No. I’m not.”

  She didn’t ask me why because she already knew. She could see it written all over my face. I was in love with him. But it went beyond that—I couldn’t imagine life without him now.

  “Come on,” I said. “I’ll drive you to the bus station.”

  After grabbing my necklace from the bedroom, we left the cabin, and I drove Missy to the bus station in town. She didn’t say much, and I could feel her disappointment fill the
cab of the truck. But she accepted it and wasn’t going to try to talk me out of staying.

  She paused before climbing out.

  “We had some good times, didn’t we?” she asked sadly.

  I wish I could say that we did. But she threw them all away the moment she contacted my brother. I really didn’t have much to say to her about any of it.

  But there was one thing I needed to know before she left.

  “Why did you kick me out?”

  I didn’t need to ask her why she sold me out to Barrett. That part was easy. It was greed. But why throw me out of the house? Was it a guilty conscience?

  She looked surprised at the question, but then her expression softened. “Because I didn’t want him to find you.”

  Her words hung heavy between us.

  “Because you knew I was running from him.”

  She nodded regretfully. “You never told me anything. I just knew you were running away from something. Or someone. Then when Craig found out who you were, I figured your dad must’ve done something bad to you.”

  The only thing my foster father did was fail to protect me from his son.

  “I knew if I contacted them, I would be sending you back to the very thing you’d run away from for two years.”

  Yet you did anyway.

  “I didn’t want them to find you. But you have to understand, Cassidy, I needed that money.”

  I couldn’t look at her because hearing her say it made her betrayal cut a little deeper into my heart.

  “Was it you that sent that video link to my phone?”

  “Craig sent it. He was pissed because you were out of his league. He said you thought you were too good for him. Stupid ass.” She sighed. “You know I really am sorry. I made a mistake. I want you to know that I will regret what I did to you for the rest of my life.”

  I appreciated her honesty. And in some warped way I could appreciate that her selfish actions led me to Chance. But I would never forgive her for contacting Barrett and selling me out for a paycheck.

  “Well, I guess this is it,” she said.

  I nodded. “Take care, Missy.”

  I had nothing left to say to her.

  Without another word, she climbed out of the truck and walked away. She didn’t look back. And as I watched her make her way toward the ticket counter, I knew I would never see her again.

  Feeling the door close on that chapter of my life, I pulled out into traffic and headed back to the clubhouse, my heart feeling a weird sense of closure.

  I got as far as the gas station down the street. That was when something moved behind me and the shadow rose up from the backseat. I felt the evilness before I saw it. Felt the fear drill into me before I felt the cold metal of the gun against my temple. Felt my world slip into hell as he leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “Hello, Sister.”

  CHANCE

  She was gone. And so was my truck.

  I tried her phone but it went to voicemail.

  Damn it.

  I tried it again but got the same thing.

  Desperation funneled through me.

  Had she had run away because of what I told her the night before? That I was in love with her? That I had killed the last woman I was with? I growled with desperation. If she had, then I only had myself to blame. Last night I’d dumped the mother of all revelations on her, and in the cold light of day she’d probably decided it was better to run from me than to hang around to find out if she would one day meet the same fate.

  I was a killer. She knew it. And now she was fucking gone.

  Except…

  Her white dress, the one she loved, was in a pile on the floor by the bed, and the tiny thong I’d peeled from her body last night was still tangled in our sheets. I walked to the closet. Her clothes were still in her bag and her guitar was leaning up against the back wall.

  I tried her phone again, but it went straight to voice mail.

  Cassidy hadn’t run away.

  But she was fucking missing.

  I ran out into the clubhouse and found Hawke leaning up against the bar talking to Animal.

  “Have you seen Cassidy?”

  “Yeah, man. She left here an hour or so ago sayin’ somethin’ about a necklace.”

  A mix of relief and alarm spiraled through me. She had put herself in danger by going to the cabin, but at least I knew where she was heading.

  I started running for my bike but my phone rang. It was Tommy, the VP from the Kings of Mayhem California chapter.

  “Tommy!”

  “Hey, brother. Thought I should let you know Wyatt disappeared yesterday afternoon.”

  I stopped walking. “He’s missing?”

  “We found him about an hour ago. Unconscious and beat up pretty badly in an alleyway.”

  “Is he going to make it?”

  “Doctors think so.”

  “Any idea who did this to him? Did he say anything?”

  “He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but I suspect whomever you had him tailing didn’t want him tailing him no more.”

  Fucking motherfucker.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  When I asked Wyatt to follow Barrett, I didn’t think he’d get hurt. It was a simple tail and report job. Now he was unconscious in hospital.

  Barrett did this.

  It meant he probably knew about the tail all along. Probably found it amusing.

  But worse, it meant he was on his way to Destiny.

  He was coming for Cassidy.

  “Keep me posted. I want to know if he wakes up or if his condition changes.”

  “Will do, brother.”

  I tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. Panic ignited every cell. I weaved in and out of traffic with skill, my mind focused on one thing and one thing only—getting to Cassidy and taking her as far away from here as fucking possible. I would stop at nothing to protect her. I had already walked through hell once before, and I would crawl through it on my hands and knees if it meant protecting her from harm.

  Hitting traffic, I roared up the middle and then took my chances through a red light. There was less traffic on the road to the river, and I took the Harley off the chain and let her roar like a wild cat as we tore along the wide-open road.

  Coming to the small township just before the turnoff to the cabin, I slowed down. There was more traffic here. A cab. A family sedan. A station wagon towing a caravan. A black van.

  I overtook them and tore out of the little main street and back onto the road, toward the turnoff.

  That was when I noticed the black van behind me.

  Something wasn’t right, but the realization came too late.

  The black van roared passed me but then swerved at me, running me off the road and into a ditch, catapulting me off my bike. I hit the ground with a dusty thump. It knocked the wind out of me and made me see stars. Winded, I struggled to inflate my lungs with oxygen, my breath only coming in short, sharp rasps. A short distance away, I heard car doors slam and the sound of boots on asphalt. I couldn’t move, but I knew I would probably die if I didn’t because whoever ran me off the road wasn’t done with me yet.

  Still struggling for breath, I hauled myself up onto all fours because I had to find Cassidy. And goddammit, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Whoever those motherfuckers were, they were going to pay.

  A twig snapped behind me. I wasn’t alone. And before I could even register it, I was hauled to my feet by one very unattractive man with a heavily pock-marked face while a redneck who looked like Billy Ray Cyrus circa his “Achy Breaky Heart” era slammed a heavily ringed fist into my mouth. I barely had time to taste the blood before a second punch to the side of my face made me see stars and sent me to the ground again.

  If I was winded before, then it was nothing compared to being kicked in the stomach with a set of steel-toe boots. No. Wait. It was nothing compared to being slammed in the gut by two sets of steel-toe boots. Excruciat
ing pain spread from my stomach, and blood sprayed out of my mouth, followed by the sudden eruption of air from my throat as a second blow got me right in the groin.

  When Billy Ray decided I deserved a third blow, I grabbed his ankle and yanked it out of under him, making him lose balance so he stumbled into the dirt beside me. Before his sidekick could derail me with another blow to the head, I broke Billy Ray’s arm in two places and gave him his own galaxy of stars with a powerful hit to nose.

  With him in blinding pain and distracted, I kicked the legs out of the other man, and he hit the dirt with a ground-shaking thud. From there it was easy. I got up onto my knees and swung at him with an almighty fury. Blood spattered across his face, and my knuckles, followed by more when I broke his nose and sent him to the ground unconscious.

  I dropped to all fours, exhausted. Blood filled one eye, and there was a ringing in my ears, but I was alive. When Billy Ray wouldn’t quit with his crying, I crawled over to him and with barely any air left in me, I sent him to sleep with an angry smack to the head.

  Leaning back on my heels, I looked skywards. My lungs gasped hungrily for air. Every nerve and fiber in my body ached. Blood dripped from my mouth, my nose, and a deep cut through my eyebrow. It spilled into my eye and trickled through the dust and dirt on my face.

  Ignoring the pain, I went to stand but was sent lurching forward into the dirt by a fucking hard kick to the back.

  Rolling over with a groan, I looked up, and the last thing I saw before everything went black was a pair of menacing eyes and a face half concealed by a skull bandana.

  CASSIDY

  “Please,” I begged. “Don’t do this.”

  My pleas were forced out with so much emotion they were nothing more than a wheeze.

  But Barrett only laughed at me. He pushed me up against the wall and held me there with his body, pressing his palm against my throat. He leaned closer so I had no choice but to feel the heat of his breath on my cheek. “Hurting you is what I live for.”

  His eyes roved over me, soulless and full of evil. But there was also a burning fire in them. A dark light so hot and needy and raging with lust.