by Nikki Pink
Sons of Mayhem 4:
SNAKES AND ANGELS
Sons of Mayhem, Volume 4
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 4: SNAKES AND ANGELS
First edition. November 25, 2013.
Copyright © 2013 Nikki Pink.
Written by Nikki Pink.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Author's Note
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Epilogue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Author's Note
This is the fourth and final book of the Sons of Mayhem serial.
Future Sons of Mayhem books will be full length, complete novels.
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CHAPTER ONE
Nicole
The soft paper cup yielded under my fingers as I squeezed it tighter and tighter. Across from me the sheriff sat, staring at me, watching as I tortured the cup.
I don’t know how long he’d kept me in the cell. They’d brought me a breakfast and a lunch. At first Lucy had been with me, but she’d soon been taken away to be interviewed and she didn’t come back. They said they’d released her.
I’d heard motorcycles and laughter from outside earlier. It was clear everyone had been released. Everyone except me. Now, finally, it was my turn.
The sheriff’s liquid brown eyes bore into mine. “Are you a prostitute?”
What the hell? “No!” The sound of my voice shocked me. I’d hardly spoken a word since the night before and that solitary word spit out sounded alien to me.
There was a twitch in the corner of his lips. “This isn’t Nevada, Nicole. And that was not a licensed bordello.”
“I’m not a prostitute!” I can’t believe this.
The sheriff’s eyes didn’t break their gaze as he lifted his own cup and drained the contents. He crumpled the paper cup into a ball and dropped onto the table that separated us, a small trail of bad coffee leaking out of the mess. “I was there Nicole, I saw you,” he paused as if searching for a word, “working.”
What the hell is the matter with this guy? “I am not a prostitute! I was not working!”
“So you were giving up that sweet little ass for free?”
Can he say speak to me like that? I locked my gaze with his. “I was having fun with my friends. We were trying to forget about a recent murder which you failed to solve.”
“Having fun? That’s what you call being used as a biker fuck toy? A fuck toy for a bunch of degenerate assholes, no less?”
Bastard. Bastard, bastard, bastard.
A smile twitched across his lips before he started to recite from memory, “3519, Billington Avenue—”
The hell? “Where did you get that?”
He ignored the question. “That’s your daddy’s address right? The famous attorney? I was thinking we should call him up and invite him down. I’m sure he’d love to make a six hour drive to hear about how his darling daughter is offering up her sweet little snatch to the entire local MC instead of studying for finals.”
“No! Please!” Fuck. He’ll kill me. Or worse, he’ll be disappointed in me. I shuddered at the thought.
“No, no, I insist. While you may technically be an adult, and even old enough to drink, I think it’s my civic duty to inform him.”
“Please, I’ll do anything!”
“Wait here sweet-cheeks. Back in a moment.”
The chair squeaked as it slide backwards. I lunged forward to grab the sheriff’s arm, hoping to stop him, but I couldn’t reach it in time. He was already up and heading to the door. He gave my lunging arm a derisory look before heading outside.
I leaned forward and let my head drop to the table. It hit with a thud. The pain that flashed through my skull was a welcome relief. I sat there, head on the table, unmoving as tears slowly trickled down my cheeks.
***
I don’t know how long he left me there simmering. It felt like an hour. No, it felt like a day, a year, a life time. But he came back whistling, closing the door gently before sitting down across from me and stopping his tuneless melody.
I didn’t even look up. I wanted to keep my head buried under my arms forever.
“Look at me Nicole.”
I didn’t move.
“Look at me. I didn’t call him. It’s okay.”
Relief flooded through me as I raised my tear streaked face. “Really?”
“Really. But I’m worried about you, Nicole.” His voice was softer now. It had lost the nasty streak that had run through his every word earlier.
“Why are you worried about me? Who am I to you?”
He reached over and patted my hand with a gentle touch. “I dug into your background before. Just a little. I wasn’t prying, I was investigating the case; it’s my job.”
“Uhuh…”
“So I know about you Nicole. I know this isn’t really you. You’re not some party chick for bikers to use up and toss away. You’re one of us Nicole.”
I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. “Us?”
“Yeah. Intelligent. Law abiding. Someone who doesn’t throw their whole goddamn life away joyriding on motorcycles — or their owners. You’re a college student, Nicole. You’re not a middle-school-dropout like their usual skanks. You’re not cut out for that life. You’re better than that.”
I sniffed again as his words ran through my mind. Sitting in the chilly air-conditioned room I suddenly felt lonely. He squeezed the top of my hand.
“Come on, we should get you back to your college. I’m sure you’ve never been picked up like this before, you must be shocked, right?”
I nodded. “A little.” His sudden change in demeanor had me reeling. Before he’d come back I’d been furious with him — furious and terrified of him calling my father, that is. Now? I didn’t know what to think.
“I’ll call you a cab. Here.” He pushed a business card across the table. It was his. “If you need help, if those bikers try and make you do a
nything you don’t want to do, you give me a call, okay?”
Make me do something I don’t want to do? Like what? I nodded as I took it and slid it into my jeans.
He left the room again and this time I felt more at ease. When he returned it was to announce that the cab had just pulled up. I pushed back the chair, wiped my eyes and headed outside. I hope they’ve all gone.
CHAPTER TWO
Jase
She better not have said anything. She wouldn’t have, right? She doesn’t know anything anyway. Jase paced back and forth outside the sheriff’s office. He’d been questioned and released in no time. Everyone had. There was nothing to link them to the crime, and as much as they loved to harass the MC the sheriff’s office had better things to do today. Apparently they wanted to ‘solve’ the crime, or find someone to blame, before the Feds arrived.
A taxi pulled up behind Jase’s parked motorcycle and idled outside. A rare site in Farmington, there was only one taxi firm and he doubted they even had a dozen cars. Most of their work was driving old people around for the local government because they were cheaper than using ambulances. There were no old people in the sheriff’s office.
Jase took aim at a rock, and with a powerful boot sent it hurtling down the dusty road. It’s a strange feeling when intense stress and worry is competing with boredom for attention. Why the hell is it taking so long?
Everyone else was back down the clubhouse now. With the wake over it was back to business, and there was a lot of shit to sort out with their first shipment of the Koreans’ product imminent. This shit better move easily or we’re screwed.
We do a lot of debt collection around the trailer parks. I bet we could…
Just as Jase was formulating an idea to move more product the door swung open and a familiar and welcome face appeared. He ran over. “Hey! Are you okay?”
She didn’t look okay. She’d been crying. “I’m fine. I’m going back to my dorm.”
“Alright, hop on.” He patted the back seat of the motorcycle.
She shook her head. “They called me a taxi.” She made toward the back door of the beat-up old car.
What the hell? Jase grabbed her arm. “Fine. Take a taxi. But, should I be worried?”
He stared into her eyes and was relieved when a look of confusion crossed it. Thank God. “What? No. Just… leave me alone for a while, okay?”
“Why? What’s the matter?” What the fuck is going on? I don’t like this.
“Nothing. It’s just. Y’know. It’s been fast, too fast. I need to think. I’ve got finals coming up soon.” She gently pulled her arm away from his grip and it slid between his fingers.
“What?”
“Final exams. I’m a student, remember?”
Exams. Shit, it’s been a long time since I had to worry about exams. “Right. Okay. Finals. So let me give you a ride.”
She shook her head and gestured towards the waiting car. “The taxi’s here now. I’ve gotta go.”
Jase stepped towards her for a kiss, or a hug, or something, but she was already turning away. He stopped himself awkwardly as she got into the taxi and closed the door behind her. This is weird. Why’s she acting like this? It’s not just exams is it?
As the taxi pulled away he looked at her through the window. She was staring dead ahead, her eyes vacant.
What the hell did they do to you in there? Jase let out a sigh and as he turned to the only female that had never let him down something caught his eye. Or someone, rather.
The sheriff stood by the door of his office staring at him from behind mirrored sunglasses. He chewed on something, his jaws working up and down in a methodical fashion as he seemed to stare at Jase. He turned his head down and spat, before staring back in the biker’s direction. The corners of his lips seemed to raise, but not into a smile. It was a smirk.
Jase shook his head and clambered onto his bike. There’s something wrong with that one. He pushed the starter and the bike greeted him with a happy thudding and a pop from the exhaust. He stroked the gas tank for a second before releasing a sigh and heading back to the clubhouse. He took the long way there.
***
The main room of the clubhouse was a wreck. Where the fuck are the prospects? Empty bottles skittered across the floor as he stormed through the debris. The doors to the meeting room were closed, but he knew everyone would be inside. Before entering he took a deep breath to try and clear his head. Inhaling the reek of stale smoke and spilled booze didn’t have the desired effect though. A sigh passed between his lips and he pushed the door open.
For fuck’s sake. The Doctor was sitting in Bigfella’s chair. That ain’t right.
“With some help, I can do it—” Bottle interrupted what he was saying as Jase entered and all eyes turned to him.
His eyes scanned the room. Everyone was there. “Sorry I’m late.” As he made his way to his customary seat he stared at the Doctor coldly. The man sitting at the head of the table looked down, as if embarrassed.
The Doctor looked down the table, not looking directly at Jase as he explained, “We were just working on some strategies. We’ve got a lot of product to move if we want to earn big.”
Jase nodded, it was time for business. He’d deal with the seating arrangements later. “I was thinking. My boys have got a lot of contacts out in the trailer parks and other shit-holes…”
There were nods of understanding around the table. The security company that Jase ran also did debt collection, and the people they tended to collect debts from were usually those who were least able to pay them. They had a surprisingly large number of big screen TVs, video game systems and expensive smart phones though. And appetites for drugs.
Jase continued, “I figure most of these places have some small time dealer. We persuade the dealer to buy his supplies from us. We don’t have to do the small time distribution, just supply the supplier. And,” Jase paused for a second, “I happen to know, a lot of these guys get their shit from a certain Mexican gang.”
There was laughter around the table. “Not anymore,” said Lonnie.
“I heard those guys are toast,” said Eag.
There was more laughter around the table. Is this it now? Is this how it’s going to be? His immediate rage quenched, Jase now felt an emptiness inside. He thought wiping out the people who’d whacked Brodie would make him feel better, but it didn’t, not really. The overwhelming urge to kill had gone, but now there was a quiet ache instead. Does anyone else feel it?
The Doctor banged the table for quiet, the same way Bigfella used to. Used to, it’s only been just over a week. “Jase, you manage that. Bottle has an interesting idea too.”
“What’s that?”
“We went over it before you got here,” he said. Was there some recrimination in that? Because I was late? “But basically, we’re planning to take over the whole distribution network the Mexicans built up.”
Jase nodded. “Sounds good. Fill me in later, Bottle?”
Bottle looked at him. “Will do. I’m going to need your help too of course, brother.”
T-Bone started to clear his throat but it turned into a hacking cough. Everyone turned to look at him; they knew that meant he intended to speak. Finally with his throat clear he looked at the Doctor. “Did you get anything out of those assholes at the warehouse last week? While we’re busy figuring out how we’re going to make all this money, selling—” his voice turned derisory, “—meth, we should be focusing on who the fuck framed Bigfella and caused all this shit.”
The Doctor nodded. “I agree completely. You know that’s why we’re selling this, meth, it’s so we can afford a lawyer to get Bigfella out...”
Jase looked around the table as Doc spoke. He wondered how many of them were already focusing on the money instead of Bigfella?
“The idiots in the warehouse gave me some leads. But unfortunately most of them haven’t turned up shit so far. Their drug-addled minds just made up shit they thought I wanted to hear. I’m hoping
something pans out. Eag is helping me sift through their crap.” The Doctor nodded in the direction of the ex-lawyer at the end of the table.
“Yeah. Fuckin’ idiots.”
“Which reminds me, Eag. We’ve got another thing to check out later.”
“We do?” He looked surprised.
“Yeah, I’ve got a hunch this could be what we need.”
Eag looked puzzled. “Alright.”
T-Bone raised an eyebrow. “Want to share it with us?”
“I’d love to share all the crap they told me, but it’d bore half of you to sleep and the other half to death.” There was laughter around the table. “Our first shipment arrives in three days. We’ve got a lot of shit to do. Anyone else got any ideas?”
Jase sat quietly as they bounced a few last ideas around. It seemed their main focus would be reaching out to the small time dealers and Bottle’s plan involving the remains of the Mexicans network.
His hand ran idly over the handgun in his belt, stroking it under the table. Guns and fire had given him the vengeance he’d sought, but they couldn’t fill the void that had been left when Brodie was killed. And now there was something else missing too. Nicole. What happened to you in the sheriff’s office?
CHAPTER THREE
Nicole
I don’t remember much about the ride home. I remember pulling myself away from Jase, climbing into the dirty interior of the car and leaving him behind. The next thing I knew I was outside my dorm room letting myself in. I had been lost in my own internal thoughts unaware of my surroundings. Was the sheriff right?
“Nicole! Where have you been?” Lucy rushed to the door as she spoke, wrapping an arm around me.
“I was with the sheriff.”
“What took so long? You didn’t—”
My eyes snapped to her. “No. He was just talking to me. That’s all.”
“Where’s Jase? I didn’t hear his bike.”
“I took a taxi.” I freed myself from her arm and kicked off my shoes. I made my way to my bed, planning on burying myself under the covers until Monday morning. Or maybe Tuesday.
