Finding Love Between Terror and Rage [The Howling Death MC 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Marla Monroe

  Terror shook his head. “Who knows why whack jobs do what they do? You don’t recognize him, do you?”

  Scooby stared for a few seconds then shook his head. “No. He’s not someone we know from town. Maybe it’s just someone passing through that left their mess here for us to deal with.”

  “Could be. He’s a good ways outside of the town and deep into the back roads. Whoever did this didn’t want him to be found too soon.” Rage kept looking around as if looking for some clue of why the guy had been killed.

  Terror still had that itchy, burning sensation deep in his bones, and if he were honest about it, it had gotten a lot worse when they saw the buzzards circling.

  “Someone would have noticed the birds sooner or later and found him,” Terror pointed out.

  “Yeah, but by the time that happened, there wouldn’t have been much left of him. The animals would have found him soon, and the birds would have started in on him, as well. This isn’t too old,” Scooby pointed out. “I bet he’s been dead less than six or seven hours.”

  Terror looked at the man with a little more respect. He was right. If the body had been hanging there for more than that amount of time, something would have already taken a few bites out of him by now.

  “Good call,” he told the prospect.

  He just shrugged. “Ranching teaches you about death. The club’s taught me about life.”

  Terror could feel him on that. He’d never been more alive than when he and his brother were flying down the road on the back of vibrating steel machines, the horses of a modern cowboy, where concrete and asphalt replaced the gentle rolling hills of grass. The monsters inside of them calmed when the monsters they rode on ruled the road.

  “Aw, hell. Fuck me!” Rage’s sudden stream of curses set Terror’s unease up a notch.

  “What is it?” He finally interrupted his brother.

  “Look at the bastard. Think, Terror. What significance does the fact that his knees are busted have to us? He’s the right height and has about the right look on him. The clothes aren’t all that distinctive, but his knees are,” his brother snarled.

  It hit him like a shovel to the head from a blind spot. He gritted his teeth but couldn’t stop the snarl that escaped. They’d been sitting there for a good ten minutes and hadn’t seen it.

  “Son of a bitch! The bastard who attacked Mia. Someone gave him what he deserved, but hell if we aren’t going to get blamed for it.” Terror flexed his hands by his sides. He wanted to kick the fucking body for being there. “Mother fucker!”

  And they’d already called in the sheriff’s department.

  Chapter Six

  Mia’s knee began to feel better by the time she was scheduled to return to work, but she continued to use her cane around the apartment to avoid making it worse. Though she needed the money, she dreaded the long night ahead of her and knew she’d be hurting by the end of it.

  She decided to take a nap about one that afternoon and bolted awake when someone started banging on her door loud enough to wake the dead. She yelled that she was coming and wrestled her way to an upright position before grabbing her cane and hobbling to the door.

  The sight of Teddy Gowen in uniform along with Sheriff Moses Kitchens scared her to death. What was going on? She quickly unbolted her door and opened it wide.

  “Sheriff. Deputy. How can I help you?” she asked.

  “Can we come in, Ms. Peretti?” the sheriff asked.

  “Um, sure.” She stepped back using her cane and let the two men in.

  She noted that Teddy stared at her like always but didn’t seem to have anything to say, which was unusual. She caught the sheriff studying her knee with a pitying look. Heat crept up her neck to burn her cheeks.

  “That looks like it hurts mighty badly, Ms. Peretti,” the sheriff said, nodding at her knee. “Why don’t you have a seat so you’ll be comfortable? We’ve got some things to talk about.”

  “Call me Mia, Sheriff. What’s going on? Why do you need to ask me questions?” She eased down to the chair and left the cane propped against the edge of the cushion.

  The big man pulled the only other chair she had, a ladder back straight chair, over so he could sit in front of her. She noticed that Teddy wandered around as if he was looking for something.

  “Deputy, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go nosing around my place.”

  He scowled at her but returned to stand to the side and a little behind the sheriff. She was sure he’d complain to her the next time he saw her without his boss around. He didn’t like being put off or made to look foolish in front of anyone.

  “Mia. Tell me what happened last night that led up to your knee injury,” he said.

  She frowned. Why would he be interested in that? She hadn’t reported it or anything. She didn’t want a big deal made out of it so her boss wouldn’t fire her.

  “Um, Sheriff. I didn’t report it because I didn’t want any trouble. Men get drunk and act out all the time. I’m fine, or I will be in a few days.”

  “This is in relation to another matter. Please answer the question,” he said.

  Something was wrong, very wrong. She licked her lips and relayed everything that had happened immediately before and after to the point of when she’d ended up in the kitchen to put ice on her knee. When she stopped, the sheriff just looked at her for a few minutes. The silence ate at her, but she knew better than to try to fill it. She’d end up saying something that would land her in some kind of trouble, so she waited.

  “How well do you know the two new guys in town, the bikers with The Howling Death MC?”

  “Um, not really. They’ve only been here for about a week, I think. They’re the ones who stepped in and stopped the man from hurting me any worse than he did,” she said.

  “And?” he prompted.

  She frowned. “And what? I don’t understand.”

  “You went home with them, Mia. You let those fucking animals take you home,” Teddy snapped.

  “Teddy, back off,” Sheriff Kitchens said with a low growl. He turned back to her expectantly.

  “I couldn’t walk to my car or climb the stairs to my apartment. They offered to carry me out to my car and then follow me home to get me safely up the stairs. No one else offered. Duke would have, but I’d have had to wait until he closed down the bar. That would have been close to three in the morning,” she said. She hated explaining herself to anyone, especially in front of Teddy.

  “But you don’t really know them,” the sheriff said.

  “No. I know Scooby and Hawk fairly well because they come into The Wagon Master all the time. They wouldn’t have let them help me if they didn’t trust them. Besides, who I let take me home is my business, not anyone else’s,” she said with a frown.

  “You’re right. Normally it isn’t anyone’s business, but unfortunately, today, it is. A man’s been murdered, and everything points to your injury being at the bottom of it,” the sheriff said with a sigh.

  “M–murdered? Who?” Fear gripped her that it would be one of the brothers. The thought of one of them dead had her stomach pitching so that bile filled her throat, making her gag.

  “Get her some water, Teddy,” Moses said. “Easy, Mia. I’m sorry I put it so bluntly. I know better than that.”

  Teddy handed her the glass of water, and she murmured thanks as she struggled to swallow around the bitter knot in her throat. She coughed a few times then set the water on the table next to her and shoved her hair out of her face.

  “Who was, um, killed?” she finally managed to ask.

  “We’re not sure who he is yet. There wasn’t any identification on him, but we’re almost positive he’s the man who accosted you last night. Witnesses are pretty positive it’s him. Plus there’s the method of death that points to the one who hurt you.”

  Mia was sure her eyes were wide as saucers by now. Method of death? Just the sound of those words had her swallowing hard again. She reached for the water and held it in her hands
just in case she needed it.

  “W–what do you mean by method of death? Why would that have anything to do with the man who hurt me?” she asked.

  “Both of his knees were broken before he was killed. The witnesses say he is the right height and build of the man in the bar.” The sheriff watched her closely as she brought the glass up to her lips again with shaky hands. “Do you know anyone who would have wanted to make the man pay for hurting you, Mia?”

  She swallowed the sip of water and shook her head. “No. I can’t imagine anyone caring enough to do something like that. I mean, I’m not seeing anyone or anything. It doesn’t make sense. Are you sure?”

  “What about the two men who followed you home? They carried you to your car, then followed you here, and carried you up to your apartment. Did they come inside?” he asked, watching her closely.

  Mia wasn’t about to lie. Anyone there at the complex could have seen them. She had nothing to hide or be ashamed of anyway. She nodded her head.

  “They came inside and made sure I was able to get another icepack on my knee once I was in bed. Then they locked the door and left.” She didn’t add that they’d left someone outside to watch her apartment or that they’d come back the next morning bringing food. She’d wait to see if he asked something that would make her tell him.

  “You don’t think they’re sweet on you, Mia?” he asked.

  “Me? I’m just a waitress with a bum leg. They wouldn’t want anything to do with me outside of just being nice and helping me when I’d been hurt. I’m definitely not their type, Sheriff,” she said with a laugh.

  “And what is their type?” he asked.

  She cocked her head and thought about it. “I’d say someone with attitude who’s tall and sexy with long hair and long legs. I’m not tall, and I’m not the least bit sexy. I limp on good days and struggle on bad days.”

  “Do you know their names, Mia?” he asked.

  “Hawk introduced them as Terror and Rage.”

  “Their real names, Mia, not their criminal ones,” Teddy snarled. The sheriff stared at him.

  “No. Those are the only names I know. I don’t even know Hawk’s or Scooby’s real names, and they’ve been here longer than I have.”

  “Okay. If you think of anything that might help us figure out who killed this man, please call me.” He pulled out a card and held it out to her as he stood up.

  “Okay. I will, but I really don’t know anything, Sheriff.” She took the card and set it on the table next to the nearly empty glass of water.

  He strode over to the door as she struggled to stand up using her cane. Just as he turned the knob, he stopped and turned back to look at her.

  “Oh, have you seen them since last night?” he asked.

  She struggled to keep a calm face. “Yes. They stopped by this morning and brought a couple of bags of groceries. They said they knew I wouldn’t be able to get out to shop for a few days so they did it for me. I was very grateful since I didn’t have much here after a long work week.”

  “And you don’t know them well at all,” he said almost to himself.

  “Did you pay them back for the groceries, Mia? How did you pay them? Give ’em a blow job?” Teddy said in a loud, disgusted tone.

  “Teddy! Shut the fuck up. What’s wrong with you?” Sheriff Kitchens asked.

  “I didn’t pay them for the groceries because they didn’t stick around long enough for me to get my bag to pay them. They just left,” she said, trying to hold back the fury that roared in her blood at Teddy’s accusations.

  “I apologize for him. He’s got a hard-on for that club for some reason, and nothing I say seems to sink into that thick skull of his.”

  “It’s okay. I can’t imagine why anyone would kill a man over something he did to me. I don’t know anyone well enough in this town to instill loyalty that strong, Sheriff. I mean, Duke and Scoot are the only two men I know at all other than to serve drinks to the regulars.”

  “Maybe it’s a coincidence and he owed someone a lot of money or something. Loan sharks are notorious for breaking legs over failure to pay,” he said with a weak smile. “Probably gambling debts. Keep your doors locked, Mia. If there are dangerous sorts out there, you want to be very careful. Maybe you should wait for Duke to finish up when you’re working and follow you home at night. Can’t be too careful.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff. I might do that.” She followed him to the door and set all the locks and chains as soon as he’d shut it behind himself.

  She leaned her head against the wood, feeling weaker in her legs than normal. The idea that someone had killed that man was hard enough to grasp, but that they’d broken his knees as well was too much for her to accept at face value.

  Her head began to ache as she realized that more than likely it had been Rage or Terror who’d done it. She couldn’t even be flattered that they’d cared enough since a man was dead. Plus, men who could kill someone that easily were much more dangerous than she’d first believed. It hadn’t really sunk in before that they were more than outlaws. She’d romanticized them instead of letting herself dwell on the kind of men they really were.

  “Oh, God. What have I gotten mixed up in?” She hobbled back to the chair and sat down to stare at the window even though the curtains were pulled so that no one could see inside her apartment.

  After a few minutes, she picked up the sheriff’s card and made herself stand up to walk back to the bedroom. She slipped the card into her bag, then settled back on the mattress and prayed she could go back to sleep and not have nightmares of men with broken kneecaps.

  * * * *

  “Find out who she’s dating and everything about her you can. It’s either about her or about us. I don’t know which yet, but we need to find out and be ready,” Rage barked out.

  “If it’s about us, that means we’ve got someone in town spying,” Hawk said. “None of us have seen anyone new or suspicious-looking in the area outside of that group we pointed out last night.”

  “Then it’s got to be someone local who’s feeding information to an enemy. The only rivals we’re worried about right now are the Vipers,” Terror pointed out.

  “Maybe it really is all about the woman, and the club is just a convenient whipping post,” Gunner suggested.

  “We’re not taking anything for granted. We look in both directions and figure this shit out, and soon.” Rage wanted to take his frustration out on something, but the club didn’t have a workout room. Maybe he needed to go see Bear at the gym.

  And why was it that he saw red at the possibility that Mia had a boyfriend? She was a piece of ass, nothing more. He winced. Just thinking that pissed him off. He knew better. She wasn’t one of the whores or sweet butts that hung around MCs everywhere. He’d beat the hell out of anyone who called her that, so he wasn’t taking it off of himself either.

  Whatever the hell she was, the woman had him twisted up inside when he needed to have a clear head. He’d never let a female get under his skin like this one had. The bad thing about it was that he couldn’t even figure out why. She wasn’t exceptionally pretty, and he doubted she had the kind of experience he was used to. She sure as hell wouldn’t be able to handle two men at once, and that’s what got his dick hard and his balls tight.

  But there was something about her that he just couldn’t shake loose. The worst part of it was that his brother was having the same problem. Terror was probably even more fucked up over her than Rage was.

  I’ve got to get her out of my system so I can focus on what really matters. If I can’t concentrate, we’re going to get caught with our fucking pants down around our ankles. I can feel the breeze already.

  “There has to be another reason, Rage. I’m just about ready to believe that the bastard owed someone money who didn’t give extensions, or he’d already used the maximum. Maybe he’d come to town to hide out. Everyone said they’d never seen him or his buddies before. Instead of scouts for the Vipers, they might have just been
trying to hide out,” Terror suggested hopefully.

  “It doesn’t fly with me, T. He’s part of something going on around here that we don’t know about yet. We need to figure out what that is, and fast.” Rage had a sick feeling time was running out.

  “You know that bastard that calls himself a deputy is pushing for it to be us,” Hawk snarled.

  “Yeah, I gathered that from the nasty looks he was sending us and the pointed questions,” he agreed. “I don’t think the sheriff is accepting his theories at face value. He seems to be the type of man who likes hard evidence. There’s not anything pointing to us because we didn’t do it.”

  Rage looked around the table at each of the brothers. He didn’t see anything that made him suspicious that one or more of them had acted outside the sanctions of the club, but he knew sometimes it happened if emotions were involved. The idea that one of them had their eyes on Mia brought a growl to his throat. What the hell? Why would he get upset if someone else wanted her? She wasn’t his or his brother’s that he had the right to tell them to back off.

  “Or is there something someone needs to tell me before the shit hits the fan?” He looked each man in the eye once more. No one flinched or looked away. “Good. Loco, get me some intel. Updates on everything.”

  He listened as Gunner went over their weapons and ammunition status then suggested some upgrades to their security around the clubhouse. Bear was present, and the big man wasn’t dumb, despite the way he looked with his thick muscular body and square head. He had a sharp mind and soft heart. He was wicked upset over Mia’s attack and offered to babysit her if Rage thought she needed it.

  “Let’s hold off for now on that, Bear. We don’t want to call any attention to us with what went down outside of town, and if you start hanging around her, someone might decide to target her to get to us,” he pointed out.

  Bear nodded with a frown furrowing his thick brows. The man had huge hands that at the moment were flexing into fists over and over again. They all needed to let some tension out or someone would end up pissing someone else off and starting a fight. Right now a fight was the last thing they needed. At least not among themselves. He was all for a good brawl outside of the club when circumstances pointed toward it.