Kings of Mayhem (The Kings of Mayhem Book 1)

by Penny Dee

  I didn’t know what to say. It was a dig at me. And I deserved it. Abby probably suspected I thought I was too good for her. I couldn’t blame her. When I’d turned my back on Cade, I’d turned my back on her, too.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight at the clubhouse,” she said, keen to get away.

  “Sure.” I gave her an awkward smile. I wanted to go to the party as much as I wanted to be thrown into a tank full of piranhas. “It will nice to see everyone.”

  But she didn’t say anything.

  She just nodded and walked away.

  INDY

  Now

  The party was in full swing when we arrived at the clubhouse. I came with my mom and Caleb in the Sticky Fingers van, and after helping them get the mammoth cake into the clubhouse kitchen, I made my way to the bar.

  Bob Seger’s “The Fire Down Below” cranked out of the speakers as I came face to face with a past I’d left behind years ago. A clubhouse party. Dressed in sensible black pants, polyester blouse, and flat shoes, I belonged here as much as a vegan at a keto party. I looked around me and took it all in. The smoke. The music. The sound of pool. The smell of beer, hard liquor, and poor choices.

  So far it looked like a typical clubhouse celebration.

  Later, a band would bring on the night with songs from Rose Tattoo, Led Zeppelin, The Stones, Credence Clearwater Revival, and Deep Purple. There would be fires lit and a barbecue, and the stripper poles would see more than one or two girls wrapped around them.

  As if on cue, a woman with short blonde hair and a sleeve of tattoos walked into the room dressed in nothing but bikini bottoms and began to twirl on the pole.

  Yep. Things hadn’t changed.

  I perched myself on a barstool. I didn’t really want to hang out, but I had a feeling it was important to my mom that I was here.

  “Well, hello there, lil’ lady,” came a voice from behind me. A pair of strong Viking arms wrapped around me for the second time in two days. Isaac. He grinned as he put me down. “Didn’t think we’d see you at one of these parties again.”

  “You and me both.”

  I glanced around feeling way out of my depth.

  “Let’s get you a drink.” He smacked his hands together like a man ready to party.

  I sat back on the barstool and shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  I was going to stay for thirty minutes and then get the hell out of there. Hanging out at a motorcycle gang’s clubhouse was the last place I wanted to be.

  Isaac looked surprised but let it go and accepted a beer from a girl behind the bar. She was wearing the tiniest pair of Daisy Dukes I’d ever seen.

  “Is it just how you remembered it?” he asked, taking a sip.

  “There’s a lot of familiar faces, but also a lot of new ones,” I said, looking around the room.

  “Well, Vader you know . . .” Isaac nodded to the good-looking, Mike Patton lookalike with the Star Wars T-shirt under his cut.

  When I left for college, Vader was a club prospect. Now he was well into his thirties and a manlier version of the baby-faced kid I remembered.

  “And of course, you’d remember Joker and Maverick,” Isaac continued, pointing his beer bottle at two club members playing pool. Joker looked like the lead singer of Metallica, right down to the long, strawberry blonde hair and goatee, while Maverick was a giant wall of muscle with big arms and a mass of tangled hair pulled back into a ponytail. Watching them was a skinny girl in a too-short skirt and a too-tight top. She leaned against the pool table, looking bored.

  “Who is that,” I asked, pointing to a handsome redhead talking to a tall mountain of a man I knew as Freebird.

  “That’s Irish. Been in the club about eight years now.” Isaac swung around on his chair to search the room. When he spotted whom he was looking for, he nodded toward him. “And that scary looking sonofabitch over there in the camouflage pants is Grunt. He is our current Sergeant In Arms.”

  Grunt looked straight out of the Marines. Tall. Broad. Shaved blond hair. He was handsome in an I wouldn’t think twice about killing you kind of way.

  “And that sonofabitch over there is Tully. Looks like your class nerd, but don’t let those Coke bottle glasses fool you, the kid doesn’t miss a trick.”

  Tully looked like he’d walk a thousand miles and fall down at your door.

  “And ol’ blue eyes over there is Cool Hand,” Isaac said, pointing to a young Paul Newman leaning against the bar doing shots with a very made-up blonde with big assets pouring out of her dress.

  “I saw Tex as I walked in,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “Is he still as crazy as a cut snake?”

  Isaac grinned. “He’s a bit tamer now that he’s married. But I think the old Tex might show up once the other charters get here.”

  I thought about the arrival of the other charters and what that would mean. They were here to honor my father. To honor one of their fallen. There would be a big wake, followed by an even bigger party. And when the Kings of Mayhem originals hosted visiting chapters, things got wild. There would be liquor and women. Lots of liquor. And lots of women.

  Before I could stop myself, I thought about what it would feel like to see Cade with another woman. And maybe it was the emotions of the past forty-eight hours fucking with me, but I had a feeling seeing him with another woman wouldn’t be as easy as I thought.

  I shook my head as if I could shake the craziness out of my mind.

  Cade could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

  Across the room, I noticed a bearded, dark-haired biker standing with a beautiful woman by the jukebox. The woman was stunning with caramel hair and skin that looked like toffee. Dressed in an off-the-shoulder summer dress, there was something calm and elegant about her. Almost graceful. Her lips were full, and when they parted into a big white smile, it was devastating. She looked like she belonged here about as much as I did. “Who are they?” I asked Isaac.

  “That’s Jacob and Mirabella. Totally loved up, if you couldn’t tell. They’re getting married soon.”

  I watched Mirabella stand on tiptoes to kiss her man. He looked at her with so much affection, my heart squeezed tight.

  Just as the song on the jukebox changed to The Rolling Stones “Gimme Shelter” an older man in a wheelchair rolled over to us.

  “And you remember this old bastard,” Isaac said with uncharacteristic fondness.

  “Of course, I do!” I said, affection swelling in my chest. It was Isaac’s father, Griffin Calley. He was Garrett’s older brother. Cade’s uncle. I leaned down and kissed his cheek. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

  “Indigo Parrish. Look at you,” he said with a big smile. He patted my face. “Still a beauty. When are you going to ditch the young fellas and learn that us older men is where the real action is?” He laughed, a big throaty chuckle. “You look beautiful.”

  Griffin had muscular dystrophy, and the disease had taken the use of his legs from him years ago. How he was still alive was beyond all rhyme and reason.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said with a wink.

  He grinned. “Don’t I know it.”

  At that moment, the club’s current President, Bull, walked into the club, followed by his sister, Ronnie Calley.

  Bull was one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen. Tall. Broad. And with a face like a model. If it wasn’t for the leather cut, black boots, and wallet chain hanging at his hip, he could easily pass for a wealthy tycoon, or billionaire CEO.

  He had the same blue eyes as his sister, Veronica. Not that you ever saw them. They were always hidden behind sunglasses, thanks to his acute color blindness, which made his eyes incredibly sensitive to sunlight. As a result, he always wore tinted glasses no matter what time of the day it was, and the presence of those dark glasses only added to his imposing power.

  When he saw me, his face lit up with his amazing smile.

  “Indy Parrish.” My name rolled off his tongue like sugared honey.
His strong arms came around me and pulled me to his broad chest, immediately engulfing me in a scent of pure man.

  “It’s good to see you, Bull,” I said, pulling back. Somewhere in his forties, he was too good looking for words.

  Ronnie leaned in and gave me a kiss. “Where’s your mom?”

  “Last I saw, she was in the kitchen with Red. Doing last-minute touch-ups to the cake,” I said.

  Ronnie nodded. “And my son?”

  “I haven’t seen Cade.”

  Ronnie smiled, giving me the same knowing look that Sybil had given me the day before. “I mean, my other son, Caleb. The one you came with.”

  Right.

  Before I could answer, Caleb appeared and dragged his mom and uncle away to help him deal with some kind of problem they had with one of the strippers.

  I looked away, hating myself for wanting to know where Cade was. He was probably ten inches deep into someone, and that wasn’t any of my concern.

  I turned around and signaled to the barman.

  “Give me a shot of tequila and make it a double.”

  INDY

  Now

  “Well, will you look at this tall drink of water sitting at the end of my bar!”

  The voice came from behind me.

  I was still perched on my stool, counting down the minutes before I could leave. The tequila shot I’d slung back earlier had done nothing, and I was still figuring out my escape plan. I swung around, ready to throw some shade at my admirer, but stopped when I came face to face with a familiar pair of green eyes.

  “Randy?” I asked with disbelief. “Randy Ronson?”

  “The one and only!” He grinned, and it was the same charming grin I remembered from high school. Randy had always been a nice guy. He was the kind of boy who made everyone feel welcome. In school, his friendliness made him popular with the girls, especially the cheer squad—and I mean the entire cheer squad. Somehow, he had managed to date them all, some of them at the same time, without the other knowing. But he was so confident and persuasive, he had gotten away with it.

  It didn’t hurt that he was good looking either, with his strong jaw, smiling eyes, and charismatic grin.

  “You’re a King now?” I asked, surprised. Randy had never shown any interest in the club.

  “Just their barman.” He looked around the bar. “I look after this for them.”

  Randy was a bit rough around the edges now, but still handsome. My eyes dropped to the space where his left arm was missing.

  “Bike accident,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the nature of the beast, lil’ lady. Riding too fast, too stoned, too drunk . . . took a hard corner and high-sided straight into an oncoming car. Woke up with no arm, a missing spleen and feeling like the world had stopped.”

  “That’s rough, Randy. I’m sorry.” I saw a lot of physical devastation in my job. Amputation was always a game changer.

  “It was my own stupid-ass fault. But I’m in a good place now.”

  “So, how did you end up here?”

  “After the accident, I didn’t see much point to life anymore. It cost me my job. My home. My girl. I couldn’t ride a bike no more. I was on a bender when I ran into Cade and Isaac one night. Ran into them at about the right time, I’m figuring. They offered me this job and it saved my life.”

  “And you enjoy it?”

  “Honey, I’m the fucking Thor of mixology.”

  I grinned. Randy was charming.

  “Well then, I think you’d better show me.” I gestured to a row of glasses gleaming behind him. “You know how to make a martini?”

  “Only the best damn martini you’ve ever tasted.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “We’ll see.”

  “Oh, a challenge!”

  I watched him mix my cocktail with the fast, impressive moves of a showman. Despite only having one arm, Randy’s skill as a bartender outdid his two-armed rivals.

  He slid a dirty martini across the bar to me.

  “I’m impressed,” I said. “You got the moves there, Randy.”

  He winked. “Baby, you have no idea.”

  As I took a sip, Deep Purple’s “Woman From Tokyo” bled through the speakers.

  “Goddamn, that’s good!” I said, smacking my lips together.

  “Drink up, little lady. I got a whole bunch of panty-dropping cocktails up my sleeve.” He held up his one hand and winked. “Imagine if I had two of them.”

  I took another sip, this time a big one, and a sweet warmth spread out from my chest. My body instantly heated and I began to relax. I noticed Randy watching me. “What?”

  He smiled. “Just thinking how strange it is seeing Indy Parrish sitting at the end of my bar.”

  “You and me both.” I took another sip of my martini and reminded myself to take it easy. Too many of these and I’d be on my ass.

  “Be careful, girl. You might actually start to enjoy yourself.”

  I gave him a pointed look. “This isn’t my scene anymore.”

  “Oh, really? Let me guess, your scene involves those fancy cocktail bars in the city with some suit in a fancy label, and not a cut in sight.”

  “One out of three ain’t bad,” I said, taking another sip of my drink and almost finishing it.

  “You want another?”

  “Sure. Why the hell not.” I watched him mix another drink. “You look like you’re in your element.”

  “You could say that. I love it here.” He winked. He nodded wistfully and then gestured around us. “This place, its family. We’re lucky to be a part of it.”

  “I’m only visiting.” I reminded him.

  He slid the second cocktail across the bar to me, and then leaned down on his one arm. “So you keep saying, beautiful lady. Funny thing is . . .”

  I raised one eyebrow at him. “What?”

  “I just don’t believe you.”

  He winked at me before making his way down to the other end of the bar to serve Vader and a girl in a PVC dress that left little to the imagination.

  As Deep Purple became Clapton’s “Layla” I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Mirabella, the beautiful girl Isaac had pointed out to me earlier. Up close, she was even more stunning.

  “Indy? Hi, I’m Mirabella. I just wanted to come over and say I’m sorry about your daddy.”

  She offered me a smile and it was breathtaking.

  “Thanks.”

  “If there’s anything I can do, please just let me know.”

  Mirabella had a comforting presence about her, and I had a sudden desire to open up to her. About what, I wasn’t sure.

  “I appreciate that. But really, there’s no need.” Keen to change the subject because I didn’t want to talk about my daddy or his funeral, I added, “I hear you’re getting married soon.”

  Mirabella’s face beamed at the mention of her wedding. “Yes . . .well, we were due to be married this weekend.”

  “Due to be married?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing . . . the timing is just awful. We thought we might postpone it—”

  “Postpone? No way.”

  “It’s a horrible thing . . . a funeral one day and then a wedding three days later.”

  Mirabella was as sweet as she was beautiful. There was no way I was letting her postpone her wedding.

  “Seems like perfect timing to me. A sad event followed by a happy one.” I gave her a warm smile. “Don’t postpone your wedding. Not because of this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” I looked around the clubhouse. Vader was now making out with the girl in the PVC dress, while the girl on the pole was busy making out with the pole. “Although, personally I think you’re crazy marrying into all of this.”

  Mirabella’s smile faltered for just a moment. But then she smiled brightly, obviously too polite to question what I had just said.

  “I appreciate you being so kind about this,”
she said. “Are you sure your mom won’t mind?”

  “Of course, she won’t. Mom would insist—”

  “What would I insist?” Mom asked, swooping in and plunking a box of serviettes and paper plates onto the bar behind us.

  “Mirabella was talking about postponing the wedding,” I said.

  “Postponing? Hell no!” Mom turned around and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve already started the wedding cake!”

  CADE—Aged 9

  Then

  I was wearing a tie. And I looked like a goddamn idiot. But Indy said that you have to look respectable when you get married. She said the woman always wears a pretty white dress and the man always wears a suit and tie. I don’t have a suit, so we settled for the tie. Anyway, I’m not sure Indy was right about the whole dress and suit thing. Because last month, when Viper married a girl called Cinnamon—Daddy said she worked at a club in town—she didn’t wear a pretty dress. And it wasn’t white either. It was bright red, tight, and very short. Daddy said the color suited her on her wedding day, on account of her lifestyle. I didn’t know what that meant. Maybe she was a firefighter or a Redwings fan, or something. I don’t know. But that dress made me feel weird. Mr. Mason, the old guy who owns the mechanics garage just out of town, I don’t think he liked the dress either, because a few hours later I saw him trying to wrestle it off her. I had been playing in the cellar with Indy when they had stumbled down the stairs, giggling and kissing. I was kinda confused on account that she had just married Viper, and yet here she was, kissing Mr. Mason. But then I didn’t rightly understand a lot of what adults did. It seemed to me they overcomplicated an awful lot of things. So, I didn’t try to work out what was happening. I just knew I had to protect Indy, because if they knew we were watching them, they would get angry and we would get in trouble.

  When Mr. Mason pushed his hand up Cinnamon’s skirt and she gasped the same gasp my mama does sometimes when she is in the bedroom with my daddy, Indy almost yelped. We both knew we were watching something we shouldn’t be watching. So I slid my hand over her mouth and pressed my lips to her ear. “Stay quiet,” I whispered. “We don’t wanna get in trouble.” When Cinnamon undid Mr. Mason’s belt buckle, I began to feel a little weird and I got scared. They were talking real dirty to one another, touching each other and stuff. Indy squirmed next to me and I began to wonder what was going to happen. Thankfully, someone called out Cinnamon’s name and she quickly pulled away from Mr. Mason, straightened her short dress and tried to fix her messed-up hair.