FURIOUS: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK SEVEN)

by Honey Palomino

  FURIOUS

  GODS OF CHAOS MOTORCYCLE CLUB

  BOOK SEVEN

  HONEY PALOMINO

  COPYRIGHT © 2018 HONEY PALOMINO

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WORLDWIDE

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidences are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content and is intended for adults only.

  FURIOUS

  GODS OF CHAOS MOTORCYCLE CLUB

  BOOK SEVEN

  BY HONEY PALOMINO

  PROLOGUE

  In the blink of an eye, everything can change…

  “You killed him!”

  The three teenage boys stood over the body of Bryce Sampson, looking down at the corpse with profound disbelief. Bryce’s eyes stared back at them, dead and empty as ever, but this time — really dead.

  Panic set in like lightning, leaving the boys trembling with fear as they stood frozen over the body.

  Rising in the distance, faint beams of sunlight threatened to expose this new, bloody secret that would forever taint this charmingly quaint town in the middle of nowhere where nothing exciting ever happened.

  It small towns like this, secrets never stayed hidden.

  But this secret, this dead bloody corpse, was bigger than anyone could imagine.

  It would change everything for these boys.

  Setting slowly on the horizon, the blood orange moon hung heavy, silent, knowing.

  Watching.

  Waiting…

  “I didn’t mean to kill him,” Will whispered with a quivering voice, shaking his head slowly. The crowbar, that moments before lay peacefully in the bed of his old man’s ’76 Ford truck, now dangled from his right hand, dripping thick, sticky drops of crimson on his white Converse sneakers.

  He dropped it at his feet, a loud metallic clang ringing through the town square that sent a murder of midnight black crows flying from the tall, white oak tree that towered over them.

  “He wouldn’t have stopped until I was dead,” Ross murmured, his left eye already swelling from the blows he’d suffered from Bryce’s meaty fists.

  “We gotta call someone,” Connor said. “We gotta call your dad, Ross.”

  “My life is over. I’m going to jail,” Will whispered.

  “No way, man,” Ross said, shaking his head. “I’m not calling my old man. And Will’s not going to jail! We can’t let that happen.”

  “It’s too late,” Will replied, poking Bryce’s body with his foot. Blood poured from the back of his head and puddled around his face before seeping into the grass beneath him. His body had fallen on the lawn, directly in front of the Greenville Baptist Church. “He’s gone. We can’t bring him back to life!”

  “There’s gotta be something else we can do.” Ross said. “It’s not your fault, Will! It was self-defense!”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Will said, his voice falling flat. “He wasn’t hurting me, he was punching you, Ross.”

  “I’ll call my Dad,” Connor said. “He’ll know what to do.”

  “No!” Ross cried. “I’m not letting Will go to prison over this! It was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. Bryce was an asshole! He picked on us every day. If it wasn’t you, it would have been one of us,” Will said.

  “Well, he won’t be picking on us anymore,” whispered Connor.

  It was early morning, minutes away from six o’clock. The park was deserted, but in just an hour or so, the bell at the top of the church’s steeple would ring out over the tiny town square of Greenville, Oregon, and the community would soon be bustling with townsfolk.

  If Bryce was still lying there by the time that bell rang out, then they all might as well be dead with him.

  “What are we going to…” Ross’s voice died down just as the sound of footsteps approached around the corner.

  They scurried behind a bush in front of the church, huddling together with pounding hearts as the footsteps fell closer.

  “Bryce!” A man’s voice called out. “Where the hell did you disappear to, man? You’re never going to believe what I just did, dude!”

  “Fuck! It’s Bodhi!” Will whispered.

  “Shhh!” Ross cried, pushing them deeper into the bush.

  “Bryce! What are you doing in the grass, man?” Bodhi slurred. He was right in front of them now, leaning over and peering at Bryce’s body. “What the fuck! Bryce! Bryce!” he cried out.

  The boys held onto each other, paralyzed by fear.

  Bryce Sampson and Bodhi Green were best friends and football stars of the town, and rarely were they seen in public apart.

  The boys were toast now, and they knew it.

  They watched through the thorny leaves of the bushes as Bodhi jumped up and took a step back in shock.

  “What the hell?” he whispered to himself, running a hand through his thick red hair. He picked up the bloody crow bar and shook his head. “My god…”

  He looked around the town square, slowly searching for answers, his back to the boys.

  “Who did this to you?” he whispered.

  Moments ago, they’d been stumbling and laughing together, drunk and stoned, the stench of last night’s party still rolling off their letterman’s jackets as they talked about their future. They’d gotten separated for a few minutes near Jenny’s diner. Bodhi had watched over his shoulder as Bryce ran ahead and walked into the square.

  That was just moments ago and now he was lying dead in front of him? How could this be?

  Suddenly, he dropped the crowbar back on the ground, the clamoring sound of metal on pavement echoing through the square once again. He threw his hands over his head, stepping backwards another step.

  “Fuck!” he cried out into the darkness, the moon slowly disappearing over the horizon, taking her secret with her.

  Stumbling backwards, Bodhi fell right into the bush the boys were hiding in. One of them grunted in pain and he turned around, pulling the branches apart and staring at them.

  “What the hell?” he whispered.

  They fell out onto the sidewalk clumsily, their trembling hands held up in defense of the expected blows that were surely coming.

  “Don’t hurt us!” Ross cried.

  “What happened?” Bodhi cried, his voice desperate and confused.

  “Shhh!” Will said, his eyes darting around. “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to kill him!”

  “You did this?! What the fuck happened?” Bodhi shouted, his voice rising.

  “He was beating up Ross. He wouldn’t stop. I grabbed the crowbar out of my old man’s truck and I just…I just…I hit him…just, you know…just to make him stop. I didn’t think he’d die, Bodhi, I’m so sorry…” Will said, tears falling down his cheeks.

  Bodhi looked back at his best friend’s body, shaking his head.

  “Are you sure he’s dead?”

  “Yeah,” Connor said. “We checked his pulse.”

  “Goddammit!” Bodhi shouted, his voice booming through the square.

  “I’m so sorry, Bodhi, I really didn’t mean to,” Will said, placing a hand on his arm. He jerked his arm away, shaking his head.

  “I can’t fucking believe this,” he said, running a hand through his hair again, as he started pacing up and down the sidewalk.

  “He was always picking on us, you know that, man, you saw him, a million times,” Ross said quickly, the wor
ds rushing from his mouth. “We weren’t the only ones, you know that, too. He fucked with everyone. Why was he so fucking mean, man?”

  Bodhi stared silently at the body.

  “We don’t know what to do,” Connor whispered. “Will can’t go to prison over this! He’s going to Cornell in the Fall!”

  He stopped pacing and turned his gaze on them, his eyes flooded with anguish.

  “Did anyone else see you?” His voice was quiet and distant now as he quickly looked over the tiny, deserted park.

  “No,” Will said. “Not yet.”

  “What were you all doing out here this early?”

  “We were looking for owls,” Connor said, holding up the camera strapped around his neck. “Northern Pygmy’s are diurnal.”

  “Fucking nerds,” Bodhi muttered, before taking a deep breath.

  The three boys looked over at him, the sharp realization that their futures laid in Bodhi Green’s hands hitting them with the force of a semi.

  “Alright,” he said, finally. “We’ll fix this. I’ll help you.”

  “You will?” Will asked, his eyes wide as saucers. Bodhi and Bryce were the two biggest stars of the Greenville High football team. They did everything together and had been best friends since first grade. They’d even been recruited together by the Oregon State football program. They’d been inseparable as long as anyone could remember.

  Until now.

  Half of that team now laid dead as a doornail at the foot of the pristine white steps of the church. As if to pronounce that fact officially, the church bells rang out overhead, signaling the start of the day in this tiny little pocket of life tucked into the foothills of majestic Mt. Hood.

  “Yeah, man, I’ll help you,” Bodhi said, his shoulders slumping with defeat and sadness. “But we gotta move fast. I’ll bring my truck around. We can bury him in the forest behind my folk’s estate.”

  “Bodhi, I’m so…” Will said, shaking his head.

  “Shut up,” he said, turning away. “Just shut the hell up.”

  CHAPTER 1

  BENJI

  TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER

  The waiting room at Dr. Nelson’s office smelled like bleach. I sat in a green plastic chair, my feet barely reaching the floor as I watched the girl at the front desk yawn before returning to blowing bubbles with a wad of purple bubble gum.

  Her name’s Cynthia, and she’s the sister of one of my friend’s at school, Jeffrey. He’s in sixth grade, and I’m in fifth, but Cynthia graduated two years ago and then she landed this job and she’s been here ever since.

  She’ll probably still be sitting in that chair five years from now. Or ten. Jobs aren’t easy to come by in this tiny little town, at least that’s what Dad says. I won’t be here long, though, I know that much. I have dreams that are bigger than this place.

  My parents can visit me, wherever I end up.

  And so can Molly.

  Molly Green’s my best friend and has been ever since second grade when Ms. Stone made us switch seats and sat us next to each other in order to keep Ralph Stevens and Mikey Malone separated because they wouldn’t stop snapping their rulers at each other.

  Molly and I never hung out together too much before that, which is weird, because our dads work together, and my house is right behind hers. Her mom isn’t very social, my Mom says.

  But still, everyone knows Molly and her family. You don’t grow up in this town and not know them.

  But anyway, after that day Ms. Stone sat us together, we started hanging out a lot.

  Before long, I’d just trek through the woods that separated our houses and cross the grassy meadow in her backyard and knock on her door any time I wanted. I didn’t even have to ask to come over anymore, that’s how close we are now.

  That’s why I’m here, actually. In this doctor’s office waiting room, the smell of bleach so strong that I’ll still smell it later tonight when I change my clothes before bed.

  I’m here because of Molly.

  She had an accident again. I think this time it might be worse than all the others. I think her arm is broken, but I don’t know for sure because the nurse and her dad won’t let me back to see her. So, I decided to just sit here and wait. She has to come out eventually.

  I just need to know she’s going to be okay and then I can go home.

  In the meantime, I’m people watching. Our town is really small, I think I mentioned that. Dad says there’s only a thousand residents, give or take a few dozen. So, I’m not surprised there’s not a lot of action in Dr. Nelson’s waiting room. My people watching is pretty dang boring here, for the most part.

  I perk up a little when Josie walks out and slowly sits down across from me. She’s got a black eye and her arm is in a sling and the heavy mascara she always wears, even to church, is smeared into thick streaks that trail down her chubby cheeks. I avoid looking at her for long, because Mama told me it’s not polite to stare, and she doesn’t look like she wants to talk.

  She looks sad, real sad.

  A few minutes later, Debbie Samuels, who I know as Todd Samuel’s mom, but is also Dr. Nelson’s nurse, comes out of the back with a clipboard holding a bunch of papers and sits down next to Josie. Josie doesn’t look at her either, but Debbie starts talking anyway. They both ignore me, so I pretend I’m not there and look down at my Converse.

  I can’t help but listen.

  “Josie, this isn’t the first time this has happened,” Debbie says. Her voice is quiet and gentle and it reminds me of when Mama was talking to our goat Dora while she was giving birth to a brand new kid that looked just like her, with the same brown-shaped moon on her leg and everything. It’s soothing and relaxing, like if she talks too loud or too fast, Josie will bolt out the door, so she talks as softly as possible. “You need to leave him.”

  Debbie doesn’t say his name, but I know who she’s talking about. Sheriff Ross is Josie’s boyfriend, and he’s a real scary guy. Once, Mama and Dad and I were sitting in Jenny’s Diner and Sheriff Ross and Josie were at the next booth. Everything seemed fine and normal at first but then Sheriff Ross started raising his voice and then, out of the blue, Josie up and threw her glass full of iced tea right in his face!

  Well, we all stopped and watched, shocked and surprised, and I’m pretty sure nobody really knew what to do at first, including Sheriff Ross. It was kind of like time stopped for a second. But then, once Sheriff Ross realized everyone in the diner was watching him, he jumped up and grabbed a handful of Josie’s long black hair and pulled her all the way out of the restaurant like that. He pulled her all the way out into the street and then he started punching her.

  I couldn’t believe it. I’d never seen anyone get punched before, not really, not like that. I mean, once J.R. punched Ike Taylor at recess because he’d said his mama was fat, but it was all over before it started and there wasn’t any blood involved or anything like that. It barely left a mark at all.

  But this was different. There was blood. A whole lot of it. Gushing from Josie’s mouth and nose, far as I could tell. Dad ran out there and pulled Sheriff Ross off her pretty quickly, but the damage was already done.

  Josie ran off around the corner and Sheriff Ross jumped into his police cruiser and as quickly as it started, it was over. We all went back to our tables, since we’d gathered around the plate glass windows to watch the commotion, stepping over ice cubes and spilled tea along the way.

  Dad didn’t want to talk about it after that, but I couldn’t help but ask him what was going to happen to Sheriff Ross for being so mean. Didn’t seem right that he would just get to walk away.

  “Not everything in life is fair, Benji,” Dad said later, when I wouldn’t drop the subject. And I guess he’s right. But so is Debbie. Because this certainly wasn’t the first time Sheriff Ross had given Josie a black eye and it wasn’t going to be the last. Everyone knew that. Seems like Josie was the only one holding onto any kind of faith in it ending anytime soon.

  “I can’t leave
him and you know it,” Josie said now to Debbie. “He’d find me. And where would I go? I don’t have a dime to my name and he keeps it that way. Got no family, nowhere to go even if I had the money.”

  “Don’t you have any girlfriends that you can stay with?” Debbie asked, her voice still all gentle and calm.

  “I tried that once. Ross threatened to burn down Daphne’s house if I left. You remember that.”

  Debbie sighed and nodded slowly, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a business card and handing it to her.

  “What’s this?”

  “Call this number. They may be able to help you. They helped my cousin out of a bad situation a year ago.”

  “More police?” Josie asked. “You know the cops aren’t going to help, Debbie. Ross is the freakin’ Sheriff of Greenville, nobody’s going to go up against him. And Connor’s the judge, they’re best friends.”

  “No, they aren’t cops. They’re different. They’re good people. They call themselves Solid Ground.”

  “Debbie, this is useless.”

  “No, Josie,” Debbie said. “You can’t give up on yourself. If you do, you’re as good as dead. Men like Ross just get more violent. You know Ross won’t stop. Next time, it could be a lot worse.”

  “I know, I know,” she replied, tears falling down her face. She took the card and looked at it. “There’s only a number on here. Who do I ask for?”

  “Don’t ask for anyone. When they answer, they’ll ask if you know the password. The password is ‘sanctuary’. They’ll help you, but only if you call.”

  “Thanks, Debbie,” Josie said, mustering a weak smile. Debbie patted her knee and smiled back.

  “I gotta run,” she said. “Call me if you need anything, okay, hon?”

  “Thanks, Deb.” Debbie stood up and walked away, disappearing back behind the door that led to the exam rooms in the back, back where Molly still was. I wanted to call after her, ask her once more if I could come back, but I knew the answer hadn’t changed.