Biker's Librarian (Lord of Mayhem Book 1)

by Shyla Colt

  “Gadget says we’re good to go. The video footage has been looped, and he’s alone in the building.”

  The world faded around him. One driving thought remained. Protect Juliette at any cost. Quietly entering the building, they took the stairs to the second floor. They’d spent a few days casing the place and getting Specs and Gadget inside to set up the equipment. A few inches from the door, Shooter reined in his fury. He wanted to kick the damn thing in and go agro, but it wasn’t what this situation called for. In order to take away Peter’s control, he needed to be the master of himself. When you let emotions rule you get sloppy.

  The slimy bastard would respect him more if he kept his temper under check. Turning the knob, he pushed the door inward and grinned at the stunned expression on Peter Stant’s face. His jaw flopped open like a fish, and his hand paused mid-signing of a paper.

  “Surprise Stant. I figured it was time we pay you a visit.” Moose shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “We got your present. Real cute hiring someone else to do your dirty work for you.”

  “I resent those bogus allegations.”

  “Listen to me, you son-of-a bitch. We both know it was you so let’s cut to the chase.” He stood in front of the desk, popping his neck to ease the pressure formed. “You need to leave Juliette alone. She’s not interested, and this time around she has someone who’ll stand up for her.” Reaching across the desk, he gripped him by his lapels and dragged him across the surface, slamming him onto his back. The thud vibrated the room and sent items rolling onto the floor. Leaning over the pale-faced man, he growled.

  “You fucked with the wrong woman. You should’ve stayed away, found someone actually interested in you and your sick games.” Removing one hand, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a knife. The body beneath him went as stiff as a board.

  “How does it feel being the one to fear for your life?” Holding the thick, military grade blade up, he pressed the sharp point into Stant’s neck. “I don’t bluff. You come near her again and I’ll come back here and start carving your ass up like a turkey. Maybe I should start now. Give you a couple scars to match the ugliness you got inside.”

  “N-no, please.” His voice wobbled as he begged. Fear clouded his eyes and his breathing grew shallow.

  “Please? You think I have an ounce of mercy in me for you? Bro, you got that cigar handy?”

  “Yep.” The sound of a lighter case opening broke the silence. A few seconds later a wisp of smoke curled around them. Shooter held out his hand, and Moose rested the stogie in his palm.

  The smell of urine assaulted his nose.

  “Jesus, he pissed himself.” Shooter snorted, bringing the cigar to his mouth, be blew a cloud of smoke in Stant’s face.

  “The way I hear it, the ones who inflict pain on others weaker than themselves are the worst kind of bastards when the odds are evened,” Moose said.

  Disgusted, Shooter released Stant and stood. “I will tear your world apart piece by piece until I get what I want. Do you understand me?”

  Tears and resentment swam in Peter’s eyes.

  “I don’t think he does,” Moose said.

  “Let me make it clearer.” Shooter brought the lit end of the cigar down, moving to stab the desk at the last minute. Peter cried out like a child.

  “Bitch.” Walking to the bookshelf he began to throw picture frames, books, and anything else he could get his hands on, to the floor. When the office was thoroughly trashed, he stopped.

  “You don’t want me to come back here, Peter. Forget about Juliette.”

  The man remained silent, but the anger simmering in his eyes and the tension in his body told Shooter he’d remain a problem.

  “Let’s go.” Not wanting to give Stant an opening to regain his abused manhood, Shooter backed out of the room after Moose.

  Leaving as quickly as they came, they held their tongues until they were a few miles away from the office.

  “I get the feeling I just stirred up a hornet’s nest in there.” Shooter banged the back of his head against the headrest of his seat. “Fuck.”

  “I don’t know. The man pissed himself. He might steer clear.”

  “After doing this for so many years to women?”

  “That was before he found a woman who had a protector capable of fucking him up. I mean he pretty much just laid there and took it. Not much of a bad ass. ”

  “I hope you’re right, Moose. Otherwise I’m going to end up killing his ass. He had a boiling rabbits, Fatal Attraction crazy vibe to me, and I’m usually right when it comes to shit like this.”

  “True enough. You know whatever you need, we got your back.”

  “I know…let’s head back. I have the sudden urge to see my Old Lady in person. I don’t put it past that sneaky bastard to send someone else to do his dirty work.”

  Tension stiffened his muscles as he ran through different scenarios in his mind. He was in for the long run with Juliette. The woman turned him on and captivated him like no one had ever done before, even Angelina. The pain that used to explode in his chest every time he thought of her had become a dull ache thanks to Juliette. He wanted to tell her about all of his past to get where he wanted to be. He’d seen the curiosity in her eyes when he’d hinted at what happened. It was only a matter of time until she asked him. If he balked he might lose the best thing to happen to him since Mayhem. Can I open up that rusty chest of memories without losing it?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Juliette couldn’t help but feel nervous as she placed books back on to the shelves. Working in the back by herself had always been something she looked forward to. A break from the stillness the front desk offered toward the end of the night. Tonight it seemed like a pre-lude to a horror movie. Her gaze darted back and forth as she wheeled the cart. The creaky wheels stood the hair on the back of her neck on end. Her ears twitched, and she paused.

  Nothing.

  Laughing at her paranoia, she continued on. She moved toward the end of the aisle. A body appeared, and she jumped back and screamed. A tall man in a black suit with a skinny tie, tan skin, and a perfect dark coif held out his hands.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “It’s okay.” She held a hand to her chest. “I thought I was alone back here. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Actually…there is, Juliette.” The warmth left his voice. She stepped back, placing space between them.

  “There’s no need to run. I’m only here to deliver a message. The visit wasn’t appreciated. We can get to you anytime, anywhere. You’ll never be safe. If you want to play a game of whose dick is bigger, I assure you we’ll win.” Stumbling back into the bookshelf, she gripped the metal to keep herself up right. Her knees trembled. Terror took hold, paralyzing her.

  The man smirked. The smug expression triggered an explosive volcano. Gaining her feet, she stood tall.

  “You tell Peter he can go fuck himself! This is his final warning. Back off or what happens next will be on his head.” Hiding her fear, she hoped the show she put on would convince him.

  “Oh you have grown leaps and bounds out on your own. You cut out before he introduced you to the club.”

  Her stomach rolled. “Get the fuck out of my library.”

  “I’ll be seeing you real soon… and hopefully one of those pretty friends of yours. We’d like to add a little color to our collection, and we’re a perfect match— four of you, four of us.” He puckered his lips and gave a mock kiss. “Be seeing you real soon, sweetheart. Don’t play hard to get too long. I don’t think you’d like the casualties that’d bring. Best to lie down and take it like a good girl. You do remember how to do that, don’t you?”

  Shaking with rage, she growled.

  With an evil laugh, the walking cologne ad turned and disappeared. Abandoning the cart, she hurried
to the front. She drifted through the rest of the night in a daze and called Shooter. Things had been strained since the incident at her house a day ago. But this was bigger than that.

  “Hey, everything okay?”

  “No, One of Peter’s friends paid me a visit. I don’t know what you did, but he’s pissed.”

  “Tell me everything.” His clipped tone left no room for argument. “Better yet, I’m coming to get you myself. You can tell me in person.”

  “My car—”

  “That’s what a Prospect is for. I’ll be there in ten.”

  Ten? “Where are you?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He hung up, and she shook her head.

  She’d be eating her weight in crow tonight.

  A motorcycle had never sounded so sweet. She ran down the steps of the building and threw herself into his arms.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  “I’ll always come for you, baby. Even if you’re being a giant pain in the ass.”

  “I was out of line. I knew it then, but I couldn’t force myself to say it at the time.” She swallowed keeping her face placed against his chest. “It was too much too soon. I felt like I couldn’t afford to lose more ground.”

  “More ground to who? I’m not your enemy.”

  “I know that, but I wasn’t speaking clearly.”

  “You know I’m sorry won’t always fix everything, right?”

  “I know. I’m working on it. I swear I am, but you’re still holding back too.”

  “Fair enough. Apology accepted, baby.”

  She inhaled his scent, holding tight to the safety he provided her like a child with its wubby.

  “Now, how about that surprise before we let pencil dick ruin the rest of our night?”

  She smirked. Leave it him to make light of the situation. “I’d like that.” He took her bags from her and placed them into the saddle bag, and she climbed on behind him. Arms wrapped around his waist, she wondered what he was up to, when they pulled onto her street and into her driveway.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “You’ll see.” He helped her get off the bike and they made their way into the house.

  “Oh my God! What did you do?” Her house was pristine. The clean, crisp scent of cleaning products and sunshine tickled her nose. She stepped in the house and spun in a circle, taking it all in. There were replacement things here and there, but all fit her tastes.

  “How?”

  “Prospects…and the girls, Evonne and Hil picked replacement items while Joey kept you company this weekend.”

  “I knew those two were up to something when they left early!” A profound surge of gratitude swept through her. “Thank you.”

  “It was the least I could do. Fucker should’ve never gotten to you in the first place.” His jaw turned to granite, and she caressed it with the backs of her fingers.

  “You’re not God— you don’t control everything.”

  “No, but I take care of my own. He’s fucking with that. Which means he’s toying with my manhood. Only person allowed to do that is you.”

  She smiled. His tiny turn of phrases were poetry to her ears. Every admission made her feel closer to home.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s check out your new pad.”

  After putting the inevitable off for thirty minutes, they retreated to her couch with beer, wine, and pizza.

  “Wait, are you trying to tell me that pussy has underlings?” Shooter asked.

  She shook her head. “Best I can tell, he’s referring to his fellow club owners. I have no clue who they actually are. He was a man with a lot of friends, and he kept me out of the loop. Probably because I would have run off screaming if I knew what he had in mind for me. Their threats scare the shit out of me, because unlike most people, they can back them up. I saw the extent of Peter’s power back then. I can only imagine it’s grown by leaps and bounds.”

  “What kind of things did you see?”

  “Traffic tickets dismissed and wiped from the system, competition bowing out when it wasn’t in their nature. I thought back then they were intimidated by him and figure they were going to lose. Now? Who knows what the hell he did to the poor people.”

  “Well he’s about to be dethroned and put out of commission.”

  “Shooter, you should take him seriously.”

  “Trust me, I am.” His voice lowered and filled with gravel and grit. The unflappable front he put up masked his true feelings. The closed expression frozen on his face scared her. This was the Shooter a person feared meeting in a dark alley.

  “What do we do next?”

  The muscles in his neck corded, and he turned to her. “I think it’s best if I don’t tell you that. I do have some questions. What do you think means the most to him?”

  “Control, followed closely by his image, wealth, and power.” She frowned.

  “What?” Shooter took her hand.

  “He doesn’t understand no. He walks away. Not the other way around. That’s really what this is about now.”

  “You don’t think he’ll stop, do you? Be honest.”

  “No,” she whispered. “I don’t.”

  He nodded. “I’m worried about that, but right now its speculation. Whatever happens we’ll deal with it as it comes.”

  Shooter pulled the T-shirt over his head and placed a hand on Juliette’s bare back. He shook her gently.

  “Baby, I’m headed out. Hawk’s going to camp out here while I take care of a few things.”

  “Mm-kay.”

  “I’ll be there to get you after work tomorrow. Hawk will drop you off in the morning.”

  “Mmhmm.” Her eyelids fluttered open, and he leaned down to deliver a kiss. Putting his game face on, he grabbed his cut off the chair and shrugged it on as he walked into the living room. He answered the door when Hawk knocked a few minutes later.

  “Hey, man, thanks for coming by.”

  “No problem.”

  “Juliette’s passed out. I want you to keep a close eye on her and make sure the Prospects post themselves in the coffee shop across from the library. Anyone even halfway suspicious enters the place and I want them there.”

  “You got it.”

  “Good, now keep your charm to yourself and keep my Old Lady safe.”

  “I can only promise one of those things.” Hawk grinned rakishly, and Shooter scowled.

  “Better make it two, pretty boy.” Clapping his shoulder, he moved past him out of the house. He’d arranged a meeting with Specs and Gadget at the club. Tonight they’d show Stant he wasn’t the only one with power.

  “Tell me what you got. I want this fucker shitting himself when the morning comes.” Shooter slammed the meeting room door behind him, walked over to the table, and sank into the seat beside Moose.

  “We have a neatly bundled list of clients who will not want to be identified, service rendered and questionable shipments. A lot of people have been paid to look the other way. We put out some feelers. Turns out the tried to talk the Crazy Eights into a deal not too long ago.”

  “What, they want to branch out?” Shooter asked scowling.

  “It looks like it. They stand to make a lot of money. If they take over the strip clubs, they’d dominate,” Gadget said.

  “They’ll move in our territory over our dead bodies,” Shooter said.

  “They must realize it. I think that’s why they were doing it slowly, claiming one club at a time and trying to make nice with the M.C.’s. The Crazy Eights hate flesh peddlers, so they were turned down flat. A lot of others aren’t so particular as long as you’re paying green.”

  “This problem is a lot bigger than I ever anticipated.” Shooter shook his head. “We need to keep Prez in the loop on this one.”

  “Done. How do you want to handle this?
” Specs asked.

  “We send Stant the information, let him know if he doesn’t back off that’ll be in an email to every prominent paper by the end of the night.”

  Moose frowned. “What the hell is that going to do?”

  “Push him over the edge, right where I want him.” Shooter smirked. “There’s no way in hell I’m spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. This can only end with him in jail or six-feet deep. People like him don’t forget.”

  “You got a preference? ‘Cause one is really easy to accomplish without all this,” Moose said.

  “I want that bitch’s tower to crumble. I owe Juliette his destruction.”

  “Aww. Nothing says I love you like the ruin of an ex,” Moose muttered.

  “In this case, yes,” Shooter inclined his head.

  “Shit, you didn’t even try to deny it,” Gadget pointed toward him.

  “What?” Shooter frowned.

  “That you love her,” Specs stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

  “I never said I didn’t. Keep it to yourself for now. I haven’t gotten a chance to tell her. Kind of hard to find the right moment when the bottom keeps falling out from beneath us.” He shifted in his seat and rolled his stiff shoulders. “Let’s stay focused. Specs, Gadget, dump the stick on his front porch and send out the emails. I want him to sweat it out, try to make amends and realize how fucked he is.”

  “You think this will bring him down? Moose asked.

  “I think it’ll send him scrambling to do damage control and he’ll do the rest on his own. He’s not used to riding bitch. It’ll make him sloppy and paranoid,” Shooter said.

  The skeptical kooks on their faces made him chuckle.

  “Boys, I know how to play fuck-fuck games. Special ops here. I get the way people thing and the weaknesses waiting to be exploited. You think I earned this patch by brute force? No. There’s an art to punishment and keeping people in line. It takes more than muscle.”

  “Ohh, look whose pulling out the big guns,” Moose said.

  “Fuck you guys. Come on, let’s get this shit done.” Pushing away from the table, Shooter stood.