Sons of Mayhem 2: Blood and Whisky

by Nikki Pink

  Sons of Mayhem 2: Blood and Whisky

  Sons of Mayhem, Volume 2

  By Nikki Pink

  Published by Nikki Pink, 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  SONS OF MAYHEM 2: BLOOD AND WHISKY

  First edition. September 27, 2013.

  Copyright © 2013 Nikki Pink.

  Written by Nikki Pink.

  Table of Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Also by Nikki Pink

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This is the second book in the Sons of Mayhem series. If you haven’t read the first one yet I suggest you do so first. You can find the first book by clicking here. Or searching your favorite online bookstore for “Sons of Mayhem”.

  I also like to give my regular readers a great deal: I launch ALL my new titles at a reduced price for just 48 hours. I email all my regular readers so that they can make the most of this deal. (If you wait for Amazon to email you it may be too late!) If you’d like to join my email list to hear about new book launches please go to: http://bit.ly/1fZ3Y11 and drop your email address in the box. NO SPAM GUARANTEE. I only send emails about new releases.

  CHAPTER ONE

  5:35pm Jase

  He rested on the desk, the barrel of the gun pointing down through the sliding window to the door of the warehouse below. It was the only way in or out. If whoever it was outside was coming in, that'd be their means of entry.

  Jase swallowed nervously, and then gave a half-smile as he once again tasted the girl, Nicole. Goddamn she tastes sweet. Why'd we have to get interrupted? She's gonna be so pissed off at all this.

  Jase's mind begin to wander. What would he do to her, with her, when he finally got some real alone time? Just as his imagination was beginning to get away from him he was brought back to the moment in a rush.

  The door creaked as someone grabbed its handle, and then roared as it was dragged open. "Oh shit," he said to himself, his voice soft so as not to draw attention.

  Jase clutched the shotgun tight, his right eye staring down the barrel at the door below, hardly believing what he was seeing.

  Two skinny men holding handguns pointed out in front of them stood framed in the doorway by the sunlight streaking in from behind them. An easy target if he didn't mess up. Who are these jokers? Haven't they ever stormed a building before?

  Jase's finger rested on the trigger. Things would get very difficult, and possibly messy if this didn't go according to plan. But for once, things went right.

  Before the men could get too far in to the warehouse the tatted biker squeezed his trigger finger. The firearm roared and one man dropped to the ground, sending his gun clattering.

  The other man let out a yelp followed by, "Shit!". His mouth opened and his eyes widened, looking around frantically for the source of the gunshot as Jase pumped another shell into the gun. Bang. He didn't stand a chance.

  Didn't put up much of a fight, did they? "Got 'em!" Jase laughed and got up from his prone position across the desk. God I hope she isn't too pissed off. We better get down there fast though.

  CHAPTER TWO

  5:35pm Nicole

  I heard the faint sound of the warehouse entrance sliding open and fear ran down my spine.

  "Well, shit." Jase said softly.

  There was a pause, and then the first shot rang out.

  I lay under the bed quaking. What on earth have I gotten myself into? I thought I'd be drinking and partying not getting shot at. I should have stayed in the dorm. Damn Lucy for letting me come with her!

  My eyes were closed as I heard another shot ring out. It wasn't how I'd imagined a gun battle; not at all like how guns sound on TV or in the movies. But what did I know?

  Jase let out a laugh. "Got 'em". Who is this guy? He's laughing? I was shaking under the bed. "Come on Nicole, let's have a look at these punks."

  I let out a whimper. "No, please. I hate blood." Little did I know that I'd be seeing a lot of it over the coming days and weeks.

  Jase let out another little laugh. "Don't worry. There's no blood. Yet."

  No blood? "Did they run away?"

  Jase knelt down on the floor and extended a tattooed and muscled arm under the bed. I grabbed his forearm, solid like an iron bar. Strong. He pulled me out with a firm but controlled tug. As I rose to my feet I brushed off the dust that clung to my skin. I was annoyed to see some of it had mixed with sweat leaving me with gray marks around my thighs and on my stomach.

  Jase nodded towards the stairs. "Come on. Before they get up." I risked a look through the windows to see what had happened down below. There were two skinny guys lying on the floor clutching their stomachs. I gulped.

  Jase walked ahead of me as we went down the stairs, one arm clutching the gun and the other holding his jacket. I leaned on his shoulder for support.

  We walked over in the direction of the door and stood over the men, the late afternoon sunlight streaming over our boots. He was right. There was no blood. I didn't understand what was going on.

  Jase poked the jaw of the nearest guy with his workboot, shoving his head backward. The guy was wide eyed and looked terrified.

  "Alright shithead. I want some answers. I may only be shooting rubber bullets, but trust me, at this range they'd be very, very bad for you." The man on the floor seemed to be struggling to breathe.

  "Rubber bullets?"

  Jase turned to look at me. "Yeah. Riot rounds. No blood. But they're winded, and they're gonna have some nasty bruises." Jase bent over and picked up two silver colored handguns that were lying on the floor. He tucked each of them into the back of his jeans, turning slightly as he did so.

  There was something about that; a sexy tatted guy in a white tee shoving twin handguns into the back of his pants, just above his deliciously firm and rounded ass, that did something to me. Well, what girl wouldn't get at least a littler flustered?

  Jase slipped his jacket back on as he looked at the miserable looking men in contempt. Knowing that they weren't dead, or even bleeding, had been such a relief. With Jase by my side as we towered over the rats before us I felt a grin begin to cross my face. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I smiling?

  Poking the toe of his boot at the closest body Jase spoke again. "Alright asshole. Who the fuck are you and why the fuck were you shooting at us?"

  The man let out a groan. Jase placed his boot on the stick-thin wrist of the man. He yelped. "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

  I saw Jase push his boot down harder on the guy's wrist. My grin turned to a grimace, but I also felt pleased. That's what you get for shooting at us, asshole. Jase's voice was deep and gravelly as he spoke again, "Of course you're sorry. But that's not what I need to hear right now. Who the fuck are you and who the fuck sent you?"

  The man struggled to breath in before speaking, "Bobby."

  "That's your name?" asked Jase.

  The man nodded.

  "Why the fuck were you shooting at us? Have I done anything to you?"

  I had my hands on my hips as I looked down on the men below. I want to spit on them. Scum. Should I spit on them? What the hell am I thinking. I'd never
been in a situation to watch a man in such a position of power before.

  "Sorry!" he spluttered. Idiot, he told you no to say that. He let out a scream as Jase momentarily pressed his boot back against the man's wrist. As the pressure was released Jase raised his eyebrows at the man again. "The Mexicans! The Mexicans sent us!"

  Jase sighed. "For Christ's sakes," he said to himself before turning to speak to the man on the ground again, "Which fucking Mexicans? Got a name?"

  "I don't know! I asked him, I said 'I'm Bobby' and he just said he was a 'dumb Mexican'. That's all. I swear!"

  "What did he look like?"

  The man winced when he didn't reply immediately and Jase applied more pressure to his wrist. Then the words gushed out again. "Big! Tattoos!"

  I watched as Jase rolled his eyes and shook his head. "And how much did they pay you?"

  The man reached into his pocket, causing Jase to level the shotgun at his face. The man pulled out a baggie stuffed with crystals.

  "He paid you in meth? For fucks sake. Is that all I'm worth to you?"

  The man gulped.

  "Did he say why he wanted you to kill a Son?" From the way Jase asked the question it was obvious he didn't expect a useful answer from the druggies on the floor below us.

  The meth-head on the floor looked confused for a moment before he said, "He didn't say Sons, he said you! The blond guy on the bike. He told us to shoot the blond guy."

  I let out a small gasp. They were after Jase? He looked confused. "Me? Why me?"

  "I don't fuckin' know man I swear!" Tears were rolling down from the corners of his eyes. Won't fuck with us again will you, buddy? I felt a thrill running through me. The power we had over the guys on the floor was intense.

  "How'd you find us here? We smoked you miles back."

  The other man reached into his pocket, causing Jase to wave the gun into his face, his boot still pressing down on the wrist of the talker. He pulled out a cell phone. "He called us. The Mexican called us and told us how to get here."

  Jase reached down and snatched the cell phone out of the proffered hand. He glanced at the screen and then threw it hard on to the bare concrete. The phone skittered across the floor in a flurry of broken plastic. "Number's blocked."

  As Jase stood over them I could see the anger and confusion on his face. Who was after him? Why? I realized something strange. Despite only having known him a couple of hours I didn't want him to feel like that, I didn't want him angry and perplexed. If only I could help.

  We stood silently over the men on the floor while Jase thought. I looked down my bare thigh to the top of my knee-high boots. I wonder what it'd be like to step on them. I imagined stamping the sharp heel in to one of them, maybe a bruised stomach or their balls. That'd teach you to fuck with Jase.

  I shook my head to clear it. What's gotten in to me? I wrapped an arm around Jase's waist and gave him a squeeze. He slipped his big arm around me and I let out a satisfied smile as his hand rested against my upper thigh and the curve at the bottom of my ass.

  It was only a moment, but standing over the druggie scum with his arm around me I felt like a queen. His queen.

  The moment was ruined when we heard yet more engines approaching. Uh-oh. What now?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Two Days Earlier.

  It was cold and dark in the silent room as the man stood over the body in silent contemplation. His eyes ran across the corpse methodically as he analyzed exactly what he'd have to do to it.

  He'd never done this before and he didn't want to fuck it up. That'd be bad. Very bad. What he was about to do would have disgusted all but the most mentally sick individuals. People like him.

  But if his plans were to come together, then it was something that had to be done. He rolled up his sleeves before pulling on long latex gloves and gently grasping the cool steel of a scalpel.

  "Easy does it," he said softly to himself as he placed the razor sharp point of the metal tool up against the head. "Here we go."

  The man began to slice into the forehead of the corpse in front of him, skillfully following the imaginary line needed to scalp the man properly. The room was silent except for his gentle breath and the almost imperceptible sound of metal cutting through cold skin and scraping the skull.

  The man began to speak almost lovingly, "There's a good dead body. Now if I just cut down here like this..." He was beginning to enjoy himself.

  He shivered as he worked, but it was just because of the coolness of the room. He also shuddered with pleasure; he'd never done something like this before. He'd obviously chosen the wrong profession. It was filthy work, but someone had to do it. And it'd be worth it. Oh, the payout would be huge. If everything went according to plan, that is.

  Thirty minutes later he was done. He placed the scalp into a large zip lock bag. He slipped the plastic bag into a messenger bag. With one final look around to see if he'd missed anything he zipped up his hold-all and headed for the door.

  The lifeless corpse stained the body-drawer red, alone and unloved as the man left. Outside a powerful motorcycle engine roared as the man flew off into the night. He had a lot of work left to do to bring their plan to fruition.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  6:30pm Nicole

  Jase hugged each of the men as they entered. First was Bottle who was a skinny guy with teardrop tattoos under his right eye. Why did he do that? Jase's tats are cool, but those teardrops? Ugh...

  "What the fuck Jasey-boy." His greeting was a statement rather than a question. Bottle's soft voice belied his appearance and I immediately began to reverse my first impression. There was a hidden warmth to his voice, and I guessed perhaps there was a story to go with his scary facial tattoo.

  Behind him was T-Bone, a shaven-headed monster of a man. How the hell does he fit on a motorbike? As he lumbered into the warehouse I half-expected the floor to shake. If it was anything but thick concrete it probably would have. His breathing was labored as he silently thudded his gloved fist into Jase's before embracing him in a bear hug.

  "What are you going to do with them?" I asked, as they finished greeting each other, wrinkling my nose at the pathetic guys lying on the floor.

  T-Bone grinned before opening his maw. His voice had the rasp of a man for whom a sixty-a-day smoking habit would be a healthy improvement. "I was thinking the bridge over by the highway, near the truck-stop, y'know? Toss 'em off in front of a big rig."

  My eyes went wide. What the fuck?

  "Naw. Let's take 'em to the lake. The eels and carp and shit will have great fun with them." The gentleness of Bottle's voice was broken when he scared me with a loud screech. Was that laughter? I watched as he eyed the terrified men on the floor "Yum, yum, fish food." Are they serious? I hope they're not serious. They look serious.

  Jase laughed and I felt the tension in me release a little. "You're going to give them heart attacks boys." He turned to look at me. "Don't worry, we'll just drop them off in the ghetto or some shit. Even though they tried to kill me, I'm a forgiving guy. That and they're fucking idiot meth heads. I don't wanta deal with getting rid of their stupid bodies. Not worth the labor or the risk. We'll send the pledges out to pick them up later."

  I watched half in horror as T-Bone carefully spat on the face of each of the cowering men. I wanta do that too. They tried to kill us. The men didn't dare move and just whimpered quietly, accepting it.

  Bottle went outside and returned shortly after with a thick roll of duct tape. I watched as he wrapped the tape around their wrists and ankles, before connecting the two together, trussing them up like Thanksgiving turkeys.

  Jase meanwhile headed upstairs to place the riot gun back in its box. Within five minutes of the reinforcements arriving we were ready to roll. I gave one final look of contempt to the wannabe-killers as I hopped on the back of Jase's motorcycle. I didn't fall this time.

  When Jase hopped on the front, I yelled, "Let's just ride right over them!" What's getting in to me?

  I
saw a gratifying look of panic cross their face before they heard Jase laugh. "Naw, they'll get my bike all methy."

  I paused for a second before getting his pun and bursting out laughing. My giggles were drowned out as Jase started the bike's engine.

  We slowly rolled out of the warehouse. Jase hopped off the bike and dragged the door shut leaving the two meth heads locked inside to await their later pickup.

  Bottle and T-Bone were already sitting astride their motorcycles outside. Bottle was on a bike similar to Jase's, but T-Bone's was much bigger. I didn't know much about bikes but his was obviously a custom job of some kind. The muffler-less bikes filled the air with the smell of exhaust fumes and the occasional loud pop as the engines waited to be let loose.

  Jase climbed back on the bike in front of me, pushed it up straight with his boot and kicked the stand back home. As he signaled to the other two men to move out I consciously let my legs relax as I sat on the back of the motorcycle. As we roared away towards the highway I already felt more comfortable. Is this really only the second time I've been on the back of a bike?

  As we flew away I wrapped my arms around Jase again, loving the feel of soft leather over a hard body. The sun was setting and the air rushing over my skin was cooling down fast. I began to shiver and hoped the clubhouse wasn't too far away.

  The other two men rode in parallel behind us making a triangle as we filled the desert valley with the roars of engines. The cool wind poured through my hair and I felt like letting out a scream of joy, or pent-up fear, or excitement or something.

  Jase turned around and looked at me and grinned. I could see that just being on the bike had brought his mood up. He turned around and with a twist of his wrist sent the bike shooting forward.

  He stood up on the pegs and let out a loud "Aroo!". That was enough for me. I let out my pent up emotions in my own cry of, "Woo!" that went on an amount of time that would have embarrassed me in any other circumstance. But right then, I didn't fucking care.