Retaliation: A Twisted Mayhem MC Novel

by Cat Mason

  Grabbing her wrists, I pin them at her sides to keep her from shoving at me again. “Shit that’s in that envelope, you don’t fuckin’ see. It was sent to fuck with your head and I refuse to expose you to more bullshit that doesn’t solve anything. End of goddamn discussion. You’re mine. It’s my job to protect you and you’ll have to accept that I know what’s best. I won’t fuckin’ lie to you and I won’t leave you hangin’ when it’s shit you need to know. Trust me to know the difference, baby.” She nods her head, some of the fight leaving her body. Leaning in, I press my lips to her forehead, lingering to breathe her in. “Now, you’re headed inside with Hoss and lettin’ me handle this.” Releasing my hold on her, I pull back and meet her eyes. “Okay?”

  She nods again, her bottom lip trembling, making me want to sink my teeth into it. I can see the hesitation in her eyes. I know better than anyone that she wants to challenge me, but she doesn’t. The trust she places in me to keep her safe outweighs her need to push the subject further.

  Or maybe it is fear.

  Either way, I’ll take it.

  “Good girl.” Leaning in, my lips brush her ear. “And, Ro,” I breathe, smiling against her skin when she shivers in my arms. “Once I get shit settled, I’ll be buryin’ my cock in more than just your pussy.”

  Releasing my hold on her, I smirk as she gapes at me and Hoss laughs again. Stepping forward, he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve got her, Stone.”

  Nodding my head, I walk back inside and grab a beer from behind the bar. Twisting off the cap, I toss it to the trash and take a long pull from the bottle. Torch closes and locks the double doors the second I set inside, preventing any interruptions. Making my way around to my chair, my eyes stay locked on the envelope sitting face down on the table. Rage roars in my veins, everything inside me wanting to rip the motherfucker apart for what he has done.

  “Hank Wright reached out. Bastard called me up, shootin’ off his goddamn mouth and makin’ demands. Pissed off about his kid. Wants his shot at me and I’m more than happy to give it to him before I rip his heart out and shove it down his goddamn throat.” Sitting down my beer, I pick up the envelope and spill its contents on the table. “He also sent these to Roanne. Threatened her.” Balling my fist, I slam it to the table. “Time to end this.”

  Everyone’s eyes drop to the stack of pictures. Each one of them is of Alfred, one for every day he has been missing. “Time stamps say he’s alive,” Doc says, holding up a photo of Al that says it was taken yesterday, his face and body covered in blood and bruises. “By the looks of him, bet he wishes he wasn’t.”

  “Time stamps can be altered,” Jinks blurts, snatching up a photo and scanning it carefully. “Any cockhead with a laptop and Photoshop can do it,” he mutters, tossing it back to the table.

  My eyes immediately snap to Jinks. “You think he’s dead?”

  “Can’t tell that by these, Prez,” he answers, shaking his head.

  “Whether he has him or not, Wright’s gotta fuckin’ pay,” Colt says, reading my mind. “When do we leave?”

  “Greedy Creek Road. Midnight.” I blow out a breath. “I’m askin’ for a vote.” Bracing my elbows on the table, I glance around at my brothers. “But know, either way it lands, I’m goin’. That fucker says he doesn’t have Al, but he knows who does. And I sure as hell won’t let any threat to my club, my woman, or me go unanswered. This fucker, and his buddies, are all of the above.”

  “Don’t need a goddamn vote,” Huck booms. “You ride, we ride.”

  I nod. “Jinks, see what you can find on the property Wright owns out there. We need to know what we’re walkin’ into.”

  “You got it.”

  “Hoss can stay here with Shy and Roanne,” I continue. “I want the entire compound locked down until this is over.”

  “Gonna need more than one body here to handle that,” D.A. says, yanking a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. “Not sure it’s a good idea leavin’ the ladies with little protection when Roanne’s a target.”

  “You’re right,” I reply, knowing that there is no way Hoss can handle the gate, watch the cameras, and keep up with both girls on his own. “Stay with him. You know the drill. Gates locked the moment we leave the lot. No one in or out without a patch. The girls don’t leave your sight.”

  “I’ll do what has to be done, Prez,” D.A. says, nodding his head adamantly.

  “Everyone good with this?” I ask, meeting the eyes of everyone at the table. Their answers are a loud unanimous mix of grunts and nods. “Alright,” slamming the gavel down, I push from my seat. “Let’s get busy. We ride in three hours.”

  The moment the doors open, Jinks heads to work while some of the other guys head to the bar. Scanning the room, I find Ro leaning back against the corner of the pool table, her red-rimmed eyes fixed on me. Though she looks worried, I still get a small smile from her. Going over everything in my head, I walk toward her as I debate exactly how much I should tell her. “We need to talk.”

  Her smile falls right off her damn face. “The kind where you talk and I listen?” she deadpans, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Mostly.” My eyes drop to where her cleavage damn near leaps out from behind the low neckline of her purple t-shirt. I want to bury my face in between them and fuck her until she screams my name loud enough to shatter windows.

  That will have to wait until after I take out Hank Wright.

  “It’s also the kind of talk where I tell you some shit you’re not gonna like, but you need to hear from me before it goes down.”

  Her eyes widen. Swallowing hard, she nods and licks her lips. “Okay.”

  Taking her hand, I head for the door. Club business is something we don’t usually share with the women. It is one more way we insure that they are protected from whatever bad shit blows back on us. There are a few exceptions when we have to make the decision on involving one of the Ol’ ladies. Those times are generally involving Shy and don’t put her at risk. This is different. Right now, everyone is at risk. Especially, Roanne. While part of me wants to roll up on Wright, blow his fucking head off, and bring home Alfred without telling Ro shit, that isn’t an option.

  Unless I plan to follow through on my threat of tying her ass up and locking her in a closet.

  Ending this is going to be a process. First, eliminate the middle man and move on to climbing the rest of the ladder. A process that I am very familiar with. It gets messy. Bloody. Fucking dangerous as hell. And I am ready for it. Starting tonight, we begin destroying every link on their chain of command.

  Walking down the paved road that runs the length of the compound, we pass a row of junked cars that Doc refuses to let D.A. sell or haul off. Stopping at the end, I drop the tailgate of Vic’s old blue Chevy pickup and sit. “Used to come out here a lot when I was a Prospect to clear my head. Still do when the time calls for it.” Roanne hops up beside me. Wrapping my arm around her, I press my lips to her temple.

  “When do you leave?” she asks, no doubt putting shit together in her head.

  “Few hours,” I reply, looking straight ahead as the sun sinks out of view. “His kid was in the car outside your house. Turns out Wright isn’t happy about me killin’ his baby boy. Wants a shot at me himself. And he’s gonna get it.” Reaching out, I brush my fingers over her cheek, turning her face to meet her eyes. “Hear me on this, woman. Keep your ass put. Don’t give D.A. or Hoss any shit. Shy will be here too. Whole fuckin’ place will be locked down until this is over. Gates are locked as soon as we leave. Hoss will be standing watch outside, while D.A. is your ever-present, and probably annoying as fuck, shadow. No one gets in, no one goes out.”

  “Okay.” Her voice breaks a little. “Did Hank kill my father?”

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “But Wright dies no matter what. Along with anyone who gets in my way. You good with knowin’ that?”

  Covering her hand with mine, she sighs softly. “I don’t know how to feel about any
of it. Thank you for giving me the truth.”

  Blowing out a breath, I lean in and brush my lips over hers quickly. “Not a whole lot in the world I wouldn’t give you, Duchess. Even at eight years old, my day wasn’t worth a damn until you smiled at me.”

  “Jensen,” she whispers, giving me a small smile.

  Fuck, she is beautiful.

  “I’ve missed that,” I continue, skimming my thumb over her bottom lip. “When this is all over, I won’t be able to give you up.”

  “Good,” she breathes, her hands trembling. “Because I refuse to lose anyone else.”

  Our mouths collide hard and fast in an explosion of tongues and teeth. Shifting back against the side of the truck bed, I shift her to straddle my lap. I want to get lost in the sweetness of her touch and the taste of her kiss. Fisting my hair with both hands, she holds me to her, needing this just as badly as I do. Soft sighs leave her lips as she grinds down on my aching cock. Greedily, I fucking swallow them all.

  Roanne is an undeserved taste of heaven for a man who is destined for hell.

  And I am a selfish bastard, determined to take everything she is willing to give.

  And then some.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Stone

  It feels wrong riding straight into a fight without being able to see Schrader in my side mirror. He is a friend, a brother, but more than that, I count on him to always have my back. The two of us have always worked the best together. The tougher the situation gets, the more in sync we are. At times, it is as if we share a brain. His patch says Sargent at Arms, but he is more like my right hand. He sure as fuck won’t be happy knowing that this went down while he was locked up over some stupid bullshit from years ago. Crazy bastard lives for a fight more than I do. It isn’t so much that we get off on the kill. Of course, there is a part of us that enjoys that shit, but it goes deeper than a simple urge to spill blood. We live for knowing we have righted a wrong and possibly ended the cycle from repeating. It means no one else will suffer at his hands again. Ridding the world of a scumbag like Hank Wright is a deed worthy of a Nobel Prize.

  Although watching that son of a bitch take his last breath will be reward enough for me.

  I never gave a shit about medals and awards anyway.

  With Colt and Doc following behind me, I make the turn onto Greedy Creek Road and lay down hard on the throttle. Adrenaline flows through my veins, my fingers itching to wrap around my gun the second I see the house come into view. Thanks to Jinks finding satellite images of the property, along with courthouse records, we were able to case out the entire area before even climbing on our bikes. Along with being right on the water, Wright has a gravel access road on the north side of the property that empties out behind a warehouse he owns. The other land around him is mostly cow pasture.

  Which is exactly how the rest of the guys are coming in.

  After leaving the compound, we spent nearly two hours setting up our perimeter while Torch rode out there and scoped shit out close up. My plan is simple, yet effective. Surround the property from all sides. Then, once the time is right, they swoop in, taking out any unlucky son of a bitch on the property.

  Except Wright.

  That piece of shit is mine.

  Turning up the driveway, I check the place out. It’s dark, the only light coming from the large barn, and a light on the front porch of the cabin. Chances are the fucker is hoping it gives him an advantage.

  It won’t.

  Killing the engine, I climb off my bike and draw my weapon. Colt and Doc follow behind me as I move quickly through the yard. Coming around the side of the house, I spot Wright leaning against one of the open barn doors, smoking a cigar. “Stone,” he snaps, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Cut the bullshit,” I reply, closing the distance. Raising my gun, I aim at his head and step into the light. “You wanted my attention. You’ve got it. Now, where the fuck is Al? If he’s here, we’ll find him.”

  Blowing out smoke, he flicks the ash from the tip of his cigar. A knowing smirk spreads across his face. “Don’t have him. Told you that. But, last I heard, he’s alive. They want him to die slow. Bloody.” His smile turns murderous. “Just like you all will.”

  “Maybe,” I reply, nodding my head. “That day ain’t today, motherfucker. Colt, Doc,” I bark, keeping my gun on Wright. “Check out the cabin. I’ve got the barn. No fuckin’ way he’s alone.”

  “You got it,” Colt says, heading off with Doc following behind him.

  “Won’t find anyone hiding in there,” Wright informs me, shaking his head. “If I had my crew out here, they’d be busy boxing your guys in. Bet you have a signal worked out and everything, don’t you Stone?”

  “I do,” I nod. “They’re waitin’ to hear you beg for your life.”

  “Hope they packed a lunch,” he deadpans.

  Shots ring out, making my blood run cold. Throwing down his cigar, Wright dives into the barn as I fire off a shot of my own, clipping him in thigh before he can duck out of sight. Shielding myself behind the other barn door, I spot the shooter in a nearby tree, his barrel trained on Doc. Without hesitation, I fire off a shot, nailing him in the hand. Yelping, he drops his gun. I fire again, hitting him between the eyes, his body slamming to the ground with a thud.

  “Motherfucker!” Doc shouts. “Colt’s hit.”

  My eyes shoot across the yard to Colt who is hunched down beside the porch steps that lead up to the backdoor. Doc rushes to his side, taking a knee to check out his wounded shoulder. “I’m good,” Colt grunts, waving me off with his good arm. “Get that fucker.”

  Nodding, I make my way into the barn. Following the trail of blood I know is coming from Wright, I check the place out, ready to kill anyone who gets in my way. “Come on out, Wright!” I call out, kicking over some drop cloth covered saw horses. “It’s time to settle this.”

  Boards creak behind me. The hairs rise on the back of my neck, my entire body going on high alert. Spinning around, my eyes fly up in time to see a guy, dressed all in black, leap from the loft above me.

  The gun falls from my hand when the force of his body slamming into mine takes us both to the ground. His fist collides with my face. “You hit like a bitch,” I growl, punching him in the ribs. Rage floods through my body. But, instead of the adrenaline winding me up, it calms me.

  I live for this shit.

  Bringing up my forearm, I clock the stupid bastard in the side of the head, knocking him off balance. Shoving him, he falls back on his ass. Yanking the knife from my cut, I push to my feet and grab him by the throat, tugging him with me as I go. “That was a bad idea,” I spit, watching his face as the blade penetrates his chest. His mouth drops open, his eyes widening in shock as realization sets in. Pulling up hard on the blade, I smile at the motherfucker as the breath rushes out of his chest in a whoosh.

  A shuffle in the hay behind me gets my attention, followed by a low pain-filled hiss. I smile. Letting him fall to the ground, I grab my knife, cleaning it on the fuckers shirt sleeve before slipping it back inside my cut, then grab my gun. Shifting around the hay slowly, I catch Wright trying to get to his feet. He has managed to yank off his belt and get it around his upper thigh in a makeshift tourniquet.

  “You knew how this was gonna end,” I tell him, raising my weapon. “Did you honestly think I’d let you walk out of here alive?”

  Wright’s phone pings at his feet and his entire demeanor changes. “Yeah, I may die here tonight. I’ve made peace with that. But, have you?”

  “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, asshole?”

  Dropping to the hay bale beside him, he tightens the belt wrapped around his thigh, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Because, even in death, I will have beaten you, Stone.”

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, taking a step toward him.

  “You were so focused on coming after me that you’ve left yourself exposed,” he laughs. His tone is cocky as fuck. It pisses me o
ff. “Go ahead and kill me, but I’ll still secure my final delivery.”

  Charging him, I pistol whip him hard with the butt of my gun. Wright’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his body falling limp against the bales of hay. Grabbing up the phone, I flip it open and read the text message.

  Consider it done.

  “Stone!” Torch’s voice echoes from the front of the barn.

  “Here!”

  Stepping out, I spot him running my way. “Huck just pulled up with the van. Once we load up Colt, we’ll get rid of Wright and his men.”

  “Wright comes back to the clubhouse. Alive,” I inform him, jerking my chin in the direction of where Wright lays unconscious. Torch stops dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as I shove the phone in my pocket and retrieve my own. I dial D.A., my stomach drops when it goes to voicemail after five rings. “Fuck me.” Immediately, I redial and get the same thing. “They’re headed for the clubhouse.”

  Hauling ass out of the barn, I race to my bike, my feet not moving fast enough. “Stone!” Doc yells, running my way. “What’s going on?”

  “They’re after Ro,” I bite out, revving my engine and peeling out without another word. Hoping like hell that D.A. and Hoss can hold the motherfuckers off until we can get there.

  All hope drains from me, when I slam on my brakes outside the gates to the Twisted Mayhem compound, taking in the scene before me. Fucking chaos. The flashing lights of Chief McKelvy’s squad car and the taillights of Jace Kennedy’s pickup truck in the ditch catch my attention.

  “Stone!” McKelvy shouts, spotting me and heading my way.