Chaos: A Bad Boy Romance

by Miranda Bee

  Most of his messages consisted of him continuing to ask me to come out, offering to come by, and demanding to know why I was ignoring him.

  “We’re not just colleagues! We’re friends. At least, that’s what I thought. Maybe I was wrong. You’re not being a very good friend. I guess you’re showing your true colors,” he texted.

  I had a glass of wine to calm my nerves. I took a deep breath and counted down from ten. This was exactly the type of disruption I was careful to avoid. Damn. I wasn’t sure how I’d deal with Charlie, but I needed to do it the next time I saw him.

  I was positive that I hadn’t led him on. I was courteous. I was friendly. That was it.

  I shut off my phone and double checked the door and windows. MaryAnn was right. This guy was totally fucked in the head. I didn’t want to over-react. Maybe he wasn’t as harmless as I’d previously thought, but he certainly triggered an alarm of caution in me. I grabbed my pepper spray out of my purse. I continued to work on the wine that was left in my glass. I watched the clock until the arms blurred and the ticking sound faded.

  Chapter 4

  Devin “The Devil’ Winchester

  I followed my mark, Adam Johnston, just outside of The Sons of the Shadow territory. I couldn’t help but wonder what a yuppie asshole was doing in a dive-bar unofficially adopted by The Snakes. He didn’t belong, by any means. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

  I slipped off my vest and left it with the bike. On the off chance that any of the members of The Snakes were there, I didn’t want to get noticed. Though, I doubted that I would. I’d been gone for just over three years. When I was still free, our rivalry with The Snakes was small. It was a full-on war now.

  It was a risky job, for sure. Mathias still had a lot of faith in my abilities.

  When I studied Adam’s picture, I laughed. He looked like a gangly teenager in a suit. I could snap that puny asshole like a twig. At first, I was sort of offended. I thought Mathias had given me an easy mark to see how I’d fair after being gone so long. I thought he was trying to ease me back into the life. I had no need for charity.

  Boy, was I wrong! It was clear that Adam Johnston was in tangled up with The Snakes.

  He may have been an easy mark himself, but he’d gotten himself into a dangerous mess of trouble. The Snakes wouldn’t just pay any loyalty to some idiot gambler who’d ran out of daddy’s support and fucked himself into a bind. They were up to something big. There had to be some kind of value in keeping Adam alive. Why would The Snakes go that route? Why were they on the offense? Surely, they couldn’t overtake us. They were big, but we were bigger.

  The whole thing stunk.

  I sat at the bar, right next to Adam. He didn’t seem bothered by my presence. Why would he? I was the muscle he hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting. Not yet, anyway.

  I stroked my beard pensively while the bartender brought out a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. I thanked the bartender and poured two shots. I slid one over to Adam and said ‘cheers’.

  “What’s the occasion, stranger?” he asked.

  “Freedom,” I said, tossing back my first shot.

  I felt the heat lick at my throat and slide down my neck. Adam tossed his shot back and slammed the glass down on the counter.

  “Freedom?” he laughed, “No one’s ever free.”

  I poured our next round of shots, “Well, I didn’t know I’d find a philosopher in the middle of this hell hole. Besides, I AM free.”

  “Not a philosopher, a realist,” he took the next shot, coughing at the putrid taste on his tongue, “So, were you in captivity or something?”

  “Prison,” I said.

  He nodded, dismissively. He got up from the barstool and walked towards the back. I took one more shot before following his path. He was in the bathroom. I leaned against the wall and waited. I wondered if there wasn’t a window in the back. Perhaps he realized that I was there to represent The Sons of the Shadow.

  I couldn’t botch my first night back on the job. He owed us money, and he would pay. I didn’t really give a shit if it was by blood or by money. Just before I was about to leave to check the back of the building, he came out. He looked at me with a quizzical expression.

  “That whiskey sure does run through a man fast, doesn’t it?” I grinned.

  “Yep.”

  I walked into the bathroom and checked for a window. There was a small one, but not likely to accommodate anyone besides a toddler. When I came back out, Adam was gone. I ran out the front door to find him walking to his car.

  “Leaving so soon?” I called out.

  “What the fuck do you want?” he asked.

  Adam stopped, facing me with a bizarre look on his face. He looked to the left and the right, nervously. I charged toward him, the dirt and gravel shuffled beneath my boots. I gritted my teeth and grabbed his collar. He shrunk back, holding his trembling hands in front of his face.

  “You haven’t paid your dues, Adam!”

  “So, I see The Sons got themselves a new hired gun. How much do they pay you? I bet I know someone who could pay you more.”

  He lowered his hands to his side, searching my eyes for a response.

  “You haven’t paid your dues, Adam,” I said, calmly, “You will pay. Either by blood or paper, you will.”

  His breath slowed to a regular pace.

  “I’m not paying shit,” He said, grinning.

  “You workin’ with someone?”

  He shrugged, unable to wipe the smug grin off of his face. I cocked my arm back, balled my fist, and slammed it right into his mouth. The pain shot through my arm like a lightning bolt.

  “Now Adam, that cocky grin isn’t doing a thing for that ugly mug of yours. I don’t think it was an accident, you showing up in a bar adopted by The Snakes. Is that who you are working for?”

  He shrugged again. I slammed my fist into his mouth again. The sting of pain I felt from his teeth volleyed up my arm and down my back. I hit him hard.

  Still holding him by the collar, his body stumbled backward. I didn’t let him fall. I wanted to see if I’d wiped that stupid look off of his face. His lip was split, gushing scarlet blood all down his clean-shaven chin.

  He wasn’t smiling anymore. He looked to the left and right, frantically.

  I swung my knee up, driving it into his soft gut. He hunched over, grabbing his stomach and gasping for air. I pulled him up, though he’d become considerably heavier. This was almost too easy. I threw a right hook, feeling the resistance of his jaw crack under pressure.

  “I’m not a monster, brother,” I offered, holding him up by the neck.

  “We’re all monsters,” he said, spitting blood, “We’re all fucking monsters.”

  “Here’s the thing, Adam. I like you. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. If you intend to pay your debt in blood, well, you’ve been misled. Paying in blood is like paying on the interest without ever touching the principal balance. You will pay the principal balance, eventually. Why not do it before I have to seriously hurt you.”

  Adam was going to die, tonight. That was the plan. I wanted to see if I could pull any information from him. Also, scoring some cash for the club would be nice, too. Mathias said that this asshole was responsible for the death of a patched Son. That was a death sentence, plain and simple.

  “I will not,” he said, looking just past my shoulder with a grin on his face.

  I looked back to see three men, with salt and pepper beards and leather vests. These guys were patched by The Snakes.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I let go of Adam, who walked towards the men, “You’re late.”

  “Quit bitching. We weren’t late,” one of the men said, “We were just watchin’ old Devin here toss you around like a ragdoll.”

  Adam looked at them, horrified.

  “It was entertaining, really. But now it’s time to get down to business.”

  They looked at me, closing in on my position. This was a hit. They
knew I was going to be here. Though, I had a feeling this went much higher than Adam Johnston. At first, I thought he was just a bargaining chip or a spy. He was cheap bait. I was the catch. Why? I only had a second before they made their move, and my story would come to an end.

  I unholstered my gun, unloading a fury of bullets as they all ducked to the ground. I shot until the magazine was bled dry. I hopped on my bike, started it up, and sped out of the parking lot. It didn’t take long for them to get their bikes going, spraying bullets as they chased me down the road.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  Something wasn’t right. Adam was clearly providing something valuable to them, but what? He hadn’t been in the clubhouse for months. The Sons had a snake in their midst. That was the only explanation. The Sons of the Shadow were a pretty tight group, though. Membership didn’t really increase all that much while I was locked up. The newly patched members were people who grew up in the neighborhood. We all knew each other from childhood.

  It could be anyone in The Sons. I shuddered at the thought. I loved all my brothers and sisters. Someone knew about the mission Mathias had assigned me and let our enemies know.

  The sounds of their shitty bikes soon became garbled by the distance I put between us. Shit. I didn’t know what to do. Someone, one of my people, betrayed me. I had to find a place to hide for now. I had to figure all of this shit out.

  The softer the rumbling of the bikes, the more at ease I was.

  I found a nice neighborhood with winding roads and alleyways. I wove myself as deeply as I could within the neighborhood. Those shit-bags wouldn’t be able to find me here. Or so I thought.

  As I slowed down, the noise got louder. I could hear them coming closer. Then again, maybe I was just being paranoid. I’d been riding for over twenty minutes. The sound could have been a loud muffler or a random motorcycle.

  I wasn’t about to take any chances.

  In a darkened alleyway, I found a little rundown shed. I turned off the motor and hid my bike behind the shed.

  There was a wooden fence that enclosed a small apartment complex. I scaled the fence, landing in a wet patch of grass. I ran towards the apartment building, or rather, the back of the apartment building. I hid in the shadows of the back porch, next to the storage closet, pushing myself up against the wall. I didn’t want to be spotted.

  There was a dim light on in the apartment. It was risky. My heart raced.

  I waited for what seemed like forever, though only a few minutes had passed. I didn’t hear any bikes. I didn’t hear any people in the apartment, either. I only heard the wind shuffle the leaves of the giant oak trees that surrounded the complex. I closed my eyes, trying to keep my breath still.

  Eventually, my body relaxed and I peered into the apartment home.

  “Holy shit!” I whispered.

  The sliding glass door was open just a crack. Through the part in the vertical blinds, I could see a woman lying on the floor. She was as still as a statue and appeared to be injured. I slid the door open and looked around. There wasn’t a sign of struggle. There was no disarray. She probably knew the man that did this to her. It was probably an abusive husband or boyfriend.

  “Whoever the fuck did this better get lost!” I called out, “I’ve hurt men for much less.”

  Nothing. There was no movement. She was all alone.

  I hunched over her still body, taking her hand. I looked her up and down. She was breathing, though unconscious. She had clearly been assaulted. Her body was riddled in scrapes and pale blue bruises. Her skirt was torn. Her fucking skirt was torn and laying at her side! All I could see was red fury. My fists balled, and I stood up, pacing.

  “You better hope I don’t find you. I’ll rip your fucking head off. They’ll never find your body!” I shouted.

  I grabbed my phone to call the police. Unless she knew the assailant, like I suspected, there was no way that I didn’t end up getting pinned for this. An Ex-convict comes to the rescue of a damsel in distress? Yeah, right.

  It didn’t matter, though. She needed help.

  “Here’s hopin’ you remember the face of the bastard that did this to you,” I said, dialing 911.

  ***

  It was hard to look at her. Didn’t this woman have anyone? Her living room was void of any personal pictures. Well mostly, anyway. There was one picture, an older picture, of a woman in a floral print dress. Maybe it was her mom?

  I grabbed a light blue throw blanket from the couch and laid it over her, covering her up. I knelt next to her and held her hand. She groaned weakly.

  “Are you okay?”

  Nothing.

  “Can you hear me? The police are on their way.”

  Still nothing but weak moaning. She was beautiful. She had thick dark hair and long eyelashes. Her face was heart-shaped and her skin was pale. It pissed me off that she was lying on the floor like a piece of trash. Maybe some dummy with a hard-on thought he was entitled to her. I hated pricks like that.

  My father was a prick like that.

  He treated my mom like shit. Growing up with a man like that was complete hell. My mom was a good woman. I vowed to never treat a woman like that and stomp any fucker who thought they could get away with it.

  Speculating about what happened to this woman wasn’t helping her one bit. I needed to help myself, now. I needed to get the fuck out of there before the police showed up. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. I opened it to find a small force of police officers. The ambulance pulled up to the building behind the squad cars. Two paramedics jumped out with their gear.

  “What is this woman’s name?” an officer by the name of Jeffers asked me.

  “I don’t know. Like I told the operator, I just happened to be walking by and noticed the sliding door was open.”

  Officer Opal looked me up and down, specifically at my patched vest. His eyes froze on The Sons of the Shadow sigil.

  “What’s your name, son?” he asked.

  “Devin Winchester.”

  “Devin “The Devil” Winchester of The Sons of the Shadow, right?”

  “What? No. Not the same Devin.”

  “Don’t toy with me. I know who you are. I followed your case, closely. You got a slap on the wrist. I figure your crew has got ties with crooked cops, to get that kind of sentence.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Did you hurt this woman?” Officer Jeffers placed his hand on his holstered gun.

  “No. I swear. I didn’t touch her!”

  An officer by the name of Opals began to take me down. He slammed into the ground, twisting my arms behind my back. My heart felt like it was in my throat. Surely, they’d be able to sort this all out. Still, the feel of those icy cold cuff dragging across my wrist made my stomach turn. The woman on the floor began to scream. It was my saving grace. She sat up, looking bewilderingly at all of the strangers in her home.

  “Did this man hurt you?” Officer Opals asked, “Is he the one that did this?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure!”

  “It’s not him,” she said, groggily.

  Officer Opals took the cuffs off and helped me off the ground and not a moment too soon. It would be hard to explain the unregistered gun I was packing. I folded my arms over my chest and flashed Officer Opals a cocky grin.

  “Do you know who did this to you?” a paramedic asked, as she slipped a blanket over her shoulders. The woman shivered, wiping tears from her cheek.

  In a hoarse voice, she said, “Yeah. A guy I work with. His name’s Charlie.”

  Chapter 5

  Sammy Wood

  Earlier that day:

  I marched into work the next day with a mission. I was going to set Charlie straight. I wouldn’t hold back for the sake of politeness. He crossed the fucking line. I wouldn’t help him out anymore. He needed to back the fuck off. Just because I was a girl didn’t mean I couldn’t beat the ever-living shit out of him. I would, too. If it came t
o that, I would make that asshole cry like a little baby.

  I stormed down the hall towards Charlie’s office. The light was off. The door was locked. Shit.

  I walked back towards the main entrances and turned right. I was headed to the break room. I could hear the indistinct chatter of my colleagues. My heart swelled with nerves. If needed, I would embarrass him. I’d tell him that he could just fuck off, in front of everyone.

  MaryAnn sat at the far table with a mug of coffee in her hands and smiled, “Morning princess.”

  “Have you seen Charlie?”

  Her smile faded, “No. What happened?”

  I sat down next to her at the table and paused, “He texted me a total of twelve times last night. He was talking like a crazy person.”

  “I fucking told you. He is a total creep.”

  “Well, whether he’s actually dangerous is still up for debate. He certainly crossed the line, last night.”

  “I’m warning you, that guy is a mental case. He is dangerous.”

  “Intuition?”

  “That and years of experience,” she replied.

  “Well, when I see him I’m going to ream his ass. He’ll think I’m the dangerous one.”

  “I think you need to let the higher-ups know.”

  “I don’t want to ruin his career. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he just doesn’t get it. I’ll fucking set him straight, though.”

  “Well, it’s your call,” she frowned, “but you know, as well as I, these situations can spiral real fast. Perverted fucks like him are a dime a dozen. It wouldn’t be unlikely that he’s just as bad as some of the parolees we see on a day to day basis.”

  “I’ll be careful. I promise,” I said.

  ***

  I spent most of the day watching the clock, waiting for Charlie to pop his ugly face through the door to ask if we could talk. I also spent a lot of my time buried in paperwork. I had a handful of new clients that I needed to prepare for.

  One caught my eye: Devin Winchester. I’d browsed his folder the other day. He was just released from prison for a Felony Assault charge. He was a part of a well-known biker gang called The Sons of the Shadow. I had to admit, he was photogenic.