Mayhem (Deathstalkers MC Book 5)

by Alexis Noelle

  “Okay.” There’s a lot of information to take in but my mind is stuck on her “some brothers cheat” comment. A sharp pain hits my chest when I think of Cutter with one of those girls.

  “Don’t.” I look over at Tracie. “Don’t go jumping to conclusions. He’s a good guy.”

  I nod, knowing that she’s right.

  “It’s a lot to take in at once. Nikki and I grew up in the club so it’s all I’ve ever known. Izzy and Lucy were both newcomers, though, so if you need coping strategies for dealing with all this, they’ll be your girls.”

  We pull into the parking lot of Ambrosia, and I can’t help but think back to the first time I showed up here. How my legs had barely kept me up I was so nervous, and completely unsure of myself. Now I’m a totally different person.

  The engine cuts off. “Cutter said to stay in the back office once we open. He doesn’t want you out on the main floor without him.” She gets out of the car and I follow her.

  The club is pretty empty. Besides a couple of guys setting up and Izzy behind the bar, I count two other people. Our babysitters follow us in, moving to one of the back booths. It’s the perfect spot to keep an eye on things without getting in the way.

  “Can I help you guys out with anything before I head back?” I ask, not wanting to seem rude.

  “Sure!” Izzy’s head pops up from behind the bar. “I need to do inventory. I’ll shout out how many bottles we have, and you mark it down on this sheet.” She slides a clipboard down the bar and I take a seat, spending the next hour taking notes until Izzy tells me we’re done.

  “Hey there, sexy.”

  The voice is so close, and I spin around, hands clutched to my chest. A guy I’ve never seen before stands in front of me, his eyes narrowed, his thumb and forefinger rubbing at the hair on his chin. He’s wearing one of the club vests so I know that he’s a brother. I freeze, my skin breaking out in a cold sweat.

  Say something.

  Tell him you’re taken.

  “Slick, that’s Cutter’s old lady. You better back away, unless you gotta death wish.” Izzy rounds the bar, coming to a stop in between me and . . . Slick.

  “Shit, I didn’t know. Sorry ’bout that.” He gives me a nod before he walks away.

  I turn back to Izzy. “Thanks for that.”

  “Not a problem. Cutter needs to get you a property patch if you’re gonna be workin’ here.” She laughs.

  “What?”

  “A property patch, didn’t he tell you about them?” She tosses the rag she was cleaning glasses with on the bar then turns so I see her patch.

  “He did, but I thought you only got one if a brother claimed you.”

  She stands up on her tiptoes, putting away the glasses she’s just cleaned. “Cutter claimed you before he left.”

  She says it like it’s a throwaway statement. Like it’s no big deal. And it might not be a big deal, to her. Me, on the other hand? I choke on the breath I was swallowing.

  He claimed me?

  How could he not tell me?

  What does this mean?

  Just when I thought I would get a chance to be free, I have a new label:

  Property.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cutter

  Even though this is one of the shorter runs I’ve been on, it feels like the longest. I hated leaving Jasmine at the club when I knew she was uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that we still can't get a lock on Dylan. None of his cards are being used, he hasn't been back to the house, and he doesn't have any family around here.

  The guy is a fuckin’ ghost.

  When Jasmine called me last night and said she wanted to go back to work I wanted to tell her no. Until we find Dylan, I just want her safe, where he can't get to her. I don't want to control her, though, or stop her from doing what she wants the way he used to.

  That doesn't mean that I'll let her have free rein. Being an old lady brings with it some elements of danger. To other clubs, they're seen as pawns, bargaining chips, ways to hurt the brothers.

  I'll have to talk to her about the fact that I claimed her. The last thing I want is for her to feel trapped, but I need to explain to her what it means to be an old lady, and the expectations that come with it. I also want her to know that when she's ready, I want her, every part of her.

  I want to take her and make her mine.

  Show her what it means to be with someone, not owned by someone.

  As we cross back into town, everything in me wants to head straight for Ambrosia to see her.

  But Pres wants to have church. And in this life, Pres’s wants and needs come before your own.

  We all head back toward the clubhouse and I hope that it won’t take long. I have two prospects and a brother at the club, so I know there are people looking out for her, but I have an uneasy feeling running through me. Living this life gives you a sort of sixth sense; a foreboding for when things just aren’t . . . right. Dylan won’t give up until he gets to her. But there is no way in hell I’ll let that happen.

  The lot is quiet when we pull in, each of us lining our bikes up outside the front door, fatigue beginning to set in. We only got about three hours’ sleep and I’m flagging. The first person I see is Lucy.

  “Have you seen her yet?”

  She seems excited. That’s a good sign if ever I saw one. “No. We have church, then I’m heading over.” A prospect opens the double doors leading to church and I see everyone start to filter in to the room.

  “You are definitely in for a surprise.” She winks at me before walking away.

  When Tracie messaged me about a makeover, I wasn’t sure what to say. I texted Jasmine because I wanted her to know that if she wasn’t comfortable with it that she didn’t need to do it.

  She needs to remember that she has a choice.

  The room is nearly full as I take my seat at the front of the table with the other officers. The room is buzzing, brothers who’d stayed at home catching up with those of us who’d gone on the run. Once the door shuts and everyone sits down, Pres bangs the gavel, bringing the room to order.

  "As you can see, everyone is back from the run in one piece.” There are a few cheers and black slaps, but Pres stands up, silencing everyone. “That doesn't mean everything went as planned. Before you guys got to the meeting site, the Dark Knights caught five of our guys. Pulled them off on the side of the road a few hundred feet down the road. Fuckers were armed like they were ready to take on an army. Somehow they are getting information about our operation. I don't know if the mole is on their side or ours, but mark my fuckin’ words, they will be found." His hands slam down on the table, his gaze sweeping over every brother in the room. "There’s a rat, boys. And rats fuckin’ stink. I don’t care who he is, where he is—know that the rat will be found and punished severely before he loses his pathetic life."

  The room is dead silent as everyone takes in the fact that someone in the club could be working against us. Pres lets us sit with that thought for a moment. If there’s one thing about MCs to remember, it’s that loyalty is everything. This shit will not fly.

  I’ll make sure of it.

  Pres takes his seat, leaning forward on his elbows. "That's the only update I have right now. I'm not calling for a lockdown, but I am telling you that my old lady and family will be here until this shit is settled. There is no way to tell if these assholes will escalate from sabotaging our runs to going after them."

  And on that somber note he bangs the gavel, dismissing everyone.

  The atmosphere is a lot different leaving the room than it was when we arrived. With Dylan having found out where I live, my place is already unsafe, so I had already planned to have Jasmine stay here with me. With what Pres just said, that choice is cemented.

  Without wasting any time, I walk back toward my bike and head over to see Jasmine. I’ve never second guessed myself more than I am with this woman. I usually say what’s on my mind and it’s up to everyone else to deal with it. When it comes
to her, I’m constantly at war with myself.

  The delivery doors are open so I head in that way to find Tracie and Izzy standing behind the bar. I give them a quick nod, as I walk back toward my office.

  “Cutter, wait.” I turn around to see Izzy standing there. Usually bubbly and frantic, she looked sheepish. This immediately set me on edge. “I swear I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say anything. I kinda let it slip that you claimed Jaz.”

  What the actual fuck?

  Izzy is quick to explain. “Jaz was helping me with inventory. Slick came in to drop something off and was trying to hit on her and I told him to back off ’cause she’s your old lady.” There’s a pause and the remainder comes out in one big rush. “Then I let Jaz know she really needed a property patch if she was gonna be hanging out here and at the club—I’m sorry.”

  There’s no point in getting angry at her. It’s not like she meant any harm. I didn’t tell the girls that Jaz had no idea I claimed her. With hindsight, I guess I should have.

  “It’s okay. I’ll deal with it.”

  Nerves that weren’t there before began to creep in. After everything she’s been through, my main worry is that hearing the word “property” will set back any progress we’ve made. I need to be strong for her, show her what it means to be mine. Introducing a woman to the life we lead is usually done over a period of time. There are stages and rituals and certain things are introduced slowly. Unfortunately for Jasmine, all of that has fallen by the wayside, and she’s about to get one hell of a baptism of fire.

  “Jasmine? Hey, I—”

  I stop dead in my tracks. There are no words. She looks completely different. When she turns and sees me, a small gasp leaves her lips. Neither of us makes a move for what seems like the longest time.

  “Is it okay? I think I let Tracie go too far.” Her eyes trail away from my gaze, her teeth biting into her lip nervously.

  I kick the door shut with my foot and close the distance between us, my hands touching her hips and slowly dragging up her side as I take in the sight of her. She has been beautiful since the first time I laid eyes on her. I didn’t think she could look any better. But seeing her in these clothes, the clothes women in my world wear . . . she’s perfect. Standing here in my office, she looks as if she’s always been here. My fingers grip her chin and lift her gaze to mine.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  I press my lips against hers. Her hands grip the back of my T-shirt and I feel her relax against me. When I pull back she looks up at me. “You really like it?”

  “I do. How do you feel about it?” I really don’t care what she wears as long as she is next to me at the end of the day. Between the old look and this one I definitely like this look better, but she could wear a damn potato sack and it’d be okay with me.

  “I feel like a totally different person, and I love it. It’s like I can reinvent myself and leave the old me behind.”

  “As long as this new you isn’t too different. I kinda like the old you.” I wink.

  But as nice as this all is, questions loom behind her eyes. I know she wants to ask about me claiming her. “Come have a seat with me.”

  I lead her over to the couch. She makes a move to sit next to me but I pull her onto my lap. She freezes and for a minute I second guess myself.

  No, I want to show her how she makes me feel. I want to look in her eyes as we talk about this. I want to feel her pressed against me.

  “Relax.”

  She closes her eyes for a minute, and I watch the rise and fall of her chest get slower and slower until she looks at me and nods.

  Here goes nothing.

  “So you heard about the whole claiming thing?” She nods again. “I need you to understand what this really means for us. Most importantly, I will not push you into anything you don’t want. I claimed you because it was the only way to ensure that you’d be protected by the club. I wanted you to be safe above anything else. When this is all over, if you choose to walk away I won’t hold you here against your will. I’ll fight like hell to keep you . . . but if it’s what you want, even though it’ll kill me, I’ll let you go. I’m falling for you, Jasmine Burke, and that isn’t something I say lightly.”

  She looks at me. The wheels are turning. “I’m not going to be any good at this.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” I pull her face close to mine until our foreheads are touching. “You are everything I want you to be. There is nothing to be ‘good’ at. All I want from you is this”—my hand rests against her chest, over her heart—“I don’t need perfection, I don’t want it. My mom always taught me that beauty is in the flaws. I haven’t been serious with anyone before, so this can be a learning curve for both of us. The only thing I need from you is for you to be honest with me. Tell me your fears, your wants, your needs. Let me take care of you. Not because you think I’m obligated, but because I want to.”

  A tear falls from her cheek but I catch it with my thumb.

  I press my lips against hers and her breath hitches.

  When she pulls away from me, her eyes are a mix of emotions. "For so long I've been stuck in the same routine. I was convinced that there was something wrong with me—that I was unlovable. The day I walked in for the interview you looked at me with desire and it was so foreign to me. It felt good. You’ve opened my eyes to the way things could have been. For the first time in years, I have laughed, and been happy. I owe that all to you." She pauses taking a deep breath. "I don't want to walk away. I want this. I want you.” She leans forward to kiss me. “I want us.”

  I never expected that response from her. I thought she might be hesitant, wary to jump into something with me. Hearing her say that she wants me makes me hard. I’ve wanted this woman since the very first day I saw her, and even though I don’t know if she is ready for everything that I want to give her.

  That doesn’t mean I won’t try.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jaz

  Telling him how I felt was hard. This was an entirely new situation for me, and I had no idea how he would react, or how I would feel once I admitted to him what I was fighting myself. My mind is a jumbled mess, and I have no idea how to sort through it all.

  I want Cutter. The way he’s been with me since I met him has made my feelings for him grow at an insane pace. On the other hand, after being treated the way I have all these years, a part of me doesn’t immediately want to be tied down—especially with the way the women are labeled as “property.”

  All I know is that right here, right now . . .

  Everything feels right.

  My arms tighten around him but my body relaxes as his lips press against mine once more. This feeling is heady enough, but when his tongue dips into my mouth, coaxing a moan from my lips, I think I may just pass out.

  “Let’s get out of here.” He stands up, his hands molded to my butt, holding me against him as he walks us out of the office and toward the front door.

  A cheer comes from behind the bar, and I tuck my head into the crook of his neck. A temptation comes over me and I press my lips against the skin there. His fingers dig into my skin.

  “Not a good idea right now, babe.” His voice is a low growl that does something electric to my body. “We still need to get back to the clubhouse.”

  He eases me down slowly, bending his head to kiss me. This is a kiss I could quite easily get lost in, so I feel it when he pulls away. A sound of disappointment comes from me as my shoulders deflate, and he smiles.

  “Get on.”

  He hands me a helmet and, remembering how he did it before, I pull it on and climb on behind him, wrapping my arms tight around his waist, my head resting in between his shoulder blades.

  Whether my mind was elsewhere or the journey really wasn’t that far, the trip to the club seems to take only a matter of minutes. The engine cuts out and all my earlier confidence goes with it.

  What does he think is going to happen?

  Am I ready for that?<
br />
  Will I be any good?

  Cutter steps in front of me, bending down so his eyes are level with mine. He eyes me for a moment before his thumb and forefinger come up to stroke my chin. “Turn your brain off for a minute. We’ll go at your pace. You don’t want something, just tell me, okay?”

  The air I was holding in my lungs escapes in a whoosh, and I nod.

  Cutter takes my hand and we walk into the club. It isn’t very crowded, with only a few girls hanging around, playing pool.

  They all give me dirty looks as we walk by, but I try to remember what Tracie said about walking with confidence. I hold my head high trying to pull every ounce of confidence I’ve gained and show them that they can’t intimidate me.

  Once we are in his room my heart starts to beat so fast it feels like it might burst through my chest.

  “Hey.” I look over at him. He’s locked the door behind him but stayed over on that side of the room, his back against the door. “I meant what I said, if you aren’t ready you say the word. I’m not gonna force you into anything you don’t want.”

  My head drops into my hands. “I know that you would never do that, but I can’t shut off the voices in my head. I keep thinking I’ll be bad at it, that I won’t be able to make you happy. Not only that, but is it too soon? Am I ready? Are we—”

  His long legs eat up the distance between us. “Stop. First, you don’t need to worry about being good. Trust me when I say if you give yourself to me that there is nothing that could be bad about it. Second, stop all the worrying. Let your mind go dark and listen to this.” His hand lays over my heart. “What’s it say?”

  My voice is barely a whisper, but it echoes around the room as if I’ve shouted from a rooftop. “It’s telling me that you won’t hurt me. That I want to be close to you. I—” My voice falters. “I want to be yours.”