Kings of Mayhem (The Kings of Mayhem Book 1)

by Penny Dee

“I just want to forget for one night, you know. About what he did. What he became. The things he said. But I constantly bounce between missing the man he was and hating the man he became… and I’m tired, Cade. I’m tired of hating him. He was a good dad. A good husband. And then he wasn’t.” She tried to act like it was no big deal, but she could barely keep her tears back. I stood up and took her in my arms and held her tightly as she finally stopped fighting her emotions and sobbed into my chest. “I miss the man he was. Before he beat her. Before he cheated on her. Before he gave up on me—”

  She trembled in my arms. And I longed to take the pain from her.

  “He never gave up on you,” I said. “He gave up on himself because he was broken hearted.”

  I smoothed down her hair and savored the warmth of her, closing my eyes as her scent engulfed me.

  She pulled away and looked up at me.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should go.”

  She turned to leave, but I reached out to stop her.

  “Don’t go,” I said, my voice rough with desperation. “Stay.”

  She looked unsure and glanced around the room as if the answer was hidden there somewhere.

  “Nothing weird,” I said, trying to reassure her. “Like you said, let’s just forget for one night how fucked up it all is.”

  She hesitated but then relaxed. She looked exhausted. “Okay.”

  It was weird having her in my room again. But at the same time, there was something so right about it.

  It was like we were kids again.

  She curled up on my bed and I sat a safe distance from her at the desk. I’m a grown man, and let’s face it, I’m a fucking mountain of a human being. Not the type of guy who did sleepovers like a teenage girl. But having Indy in my room was like the old days. Before life fucked with us.

  We talked for hours. About everything. Well, almost everything. Nothing about our breakup. And we laughed as we remembered all the good things, and nothing about the bad things.

  Sometime after midnight, we found ourselves on the bed together. Close, but not touching. Our eyes heavy; our words muffled and sleepy.

  She yawned and relaxed farther into the mattress. When she finally fell asleep, I didn’t wake her. It felt good. Right. And I can’t lie; I had a raging boner that would be pretty hard to hide. But I had no intention of getting close enough for her to notice. Too close and I didn’t trust myself. If I touched her, it wouldn’t be enough. I would kiss her. Undress her. And plunge so deep into her she would have no choice but to moan my name.

  No. I wasn’t going to fucking touch her.

  Because the ice beneath us was thin, and I didn’t want to risk it breaking and lose her forever. Today had been good and I wasn’t going to fuck it up.

  Feeling content just to have her close, I fell asleep listening to her soft breaths, but wishing more than anything that my girl would come back to me.

  CADE—Aged 14

  Then

  My window shuddered as it was pushed up. A few seconds later, Indy climbed through and crossed the room to my bed. I opened up my sheets and she climbed in, nestling her face into my shoulder as I secured my arms around her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked when she was settled.

  “I hate him,” she said. “I hate him and I wish he was dead.”

  I released her and sat up, turning on the lamp.

  “He’s your daddy, Indy.”

  She looked at me, her eyes dark and her jaw set.

  “You saw what he did, Cade. He hit my mama, right there for all the MC to see.” She sat up. “And not one of them did anything to help her. Except for you.”

  “They were surprised.”

  “They were cowards!” She glared at me. “They think it’s okay to do that to their women. Because they’re scum and I hate them all.”

  “They’re not all like that.”

  “Why are you sticking up for them?”

  “Because they’re good people.”

  “Hitting women is not okay, Cade.”

  “Hey, I know that. I’m not saying it’s okay to hit women. Ever. I would never raise my hand to a woman. And neither would most of them.”

  “Oh, yeah? How would you know? Huh? How do you know what goes on behind closed doors?”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Are you telling me this has happened before? That your daddy is hitting your mama.”

  “You live next door, Cade. How can you not know?”

  I reached for her hand. “I didn’t! I swear. When did it start happening?”

  She looked away and shrugged. “A few months back. I mean, he’d come close a few times when they argued. But he actually went and did it last fall. I didn’t see it. Just saw the bruise on her cheek the next day. I had heard them fighting the night before and put two and two together.” She shook her head. “I confronted my mama but she denied it. Said she’d walked into a wall.” Her shoulders sagged, and when she looked up, I saw the tears welling in her eyes. “They used to be so in love—so crazy for one another. So affectionate. So happy. But my daddy has turned mean, it’s like I don’t even know who he is anymore.” She shrugged and looked away again. “Now it seems all they do is fight.”

  I took her hand in mine. I had noticed how different Jackie Parrish had become since Bolt’s death. He had turned mean.

  I reached for her but she stiffened.

  “Hey, I would never . . .” I stopped when she lay back down and turned away.

  “As soon as I can get away, I’m leaving this goddamn town,” she said sharply.

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want Indy to leave. I lay down beside her and wrapped my arm around her waist. If she wanted to leave, then I wanted to leave, too.

  I pulled her close and murmured into her hair. “Then we’ll leave together.”

  She didn’t say anything. She just reached around and pulled my arms tighter around her. I could feel her heartbeat against my arm and it made me sleepy again.

  “Good night, Indy,” I whispered.

  We fell asleep, like we had a thousand times before, wrapped up in each other and safe.

  But when I woke up, something was different. My body felt strange, and as I slowly came out of my dreams, I came to a sudden realization.

  I’d had a wet dream.

  Alarmed, my eyes flew open as a fleeting pleasure receded and stark humiliation took over.

  “Are you okay?” Indy asked sleepily.

  She felt for me, but her hand brushed the soggy sheet. I lurched away.

  “Cade?” She sat up, confused by my reaction and the sticky sheet.

  Humiliation ripped through me. It would only take her a few moments to realize what had happened.

  I raced to the bathroom praying I didn’t run into my mom or dad, or worse, my brothers. But it was early and the house was still and quiet.

  I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, squeezing my eyes closed.

  Did I have wet dreams often? No. Not if I jerked it. But Indy had been hanging out with me more and more and the opportunity never . . . arose.

  There was a small tap on the door and I knew it was Indy.

  “Go away,” I whispered harshly, my cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

  “Please open up,” Indy begged softly.

  “No. Go away.”

  I wanted the floor to open up and suck me down to hell.

  “Please, Cade. Talk to me.”

  “I said go away.”

  There was a pause. Would she do as I asked and leave me alone?

  Of course not.

  “Cade Calley, if you don’t open this door, I’m going to start hollering.”

  I sighed. Great. Just what I needed. Indy waking up the entire house.

  I grabbed a towel off the side of the bathtub and wrapped it around my waist, then opening the door, I hustled her in.

  “Quit your hollering,” I whispered, closing the door behind me.

  “Well, you wouldn�
�t let me in.”

  “Of course, I didn’t. Because I needed . . .”

  “What?”

  “Space. I needed space.”

  Indy folded her arms and she raised an eyebrow at me. “We’re best friends, Cade, and best friends don’t lie. I know you had yourself a wet dream.”

  “I did not!”

  “I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed. It’s natural.” She shrugged. “Isn’t that what you told me when we went to the movies last summer and I got my period. Remember? It stained my skirt and I was so embarrassed. You told me it was only natural so I shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

  Of course, Indy had a memory like an elephant. It was almost photographic.

  “So?” I shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s different.”

  “How is it different?” She put her hands on her hips, but seeing how awkward I was, her face softened and she took a step toward me. “We don’t keep any secrets from each other, remember?” She reached for my hand. “You never have to be embarrassed around me. Just honest.”

  The softness of her skin on my hand made my body jerk. I pulled my hand free and exhaled deeply, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

  “It’s okay. I know it didn’t happen because . . . well, you know . . . because of me.” She lifted a shoulder and then let it drop. “It’s just somethin’ boys do.”

  She was wrong. It did happen because of her. Because she was warm and soft, and pressed up against me in my sleep. Because the sweet smell of her lingered in my sheets and on my pillow, and in the air, and for a kid whose body was just waking up to all things female, it was just too much to take. Not that I would admit it to her because that would make things weird and I didn’t want her to stop staying over.

  I sighed and smiled across at her, and she grinned back.

  “Come on, it’s time I should be going home anyway,” she said, taking me by the hand again.

  I pulled her back to me. “Don’t leave just yet. Let’s go watch the sunrise.”

  She smiled, and in the early morning light I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

  CADE

  Now

  Something pulled me out of my sleep.

  “Indy?”

  I sat up and let my eyes adjust to the darkness and saw Indy standing at the window, staring across at her house. Dressed in nothing but her tank and panties, she turned her head at the sound of her name and came toward the bed. In the moonlight I could make out the smooth contour of her body. Her skin looked smooth as stone and her hair tumbled around her shoulders as she made her way slowly toward me.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice hoarse with sleep.

  But Indy didn’t answer, instead she climbed on the bed and slid her legs on either side of me.

  The touch of her panties against my raging boner sent my desire into overload like I was a fucking thirteen-year-old boy. I was at her mercy.

  “Indy—”

  She cut me off with her mouth. And then her tongue.

  And then her hands as they slid across the bumps of my abs and up along my chest. I didn’t need any further invitation. I pulled her tank top up and held her by the hips, rocking her against me. Desire flared in my balls and shot up the length of my straining cock. And just when I didn’t think I could want her any more than I already did, Indy moaned, a long, drawn-out moan that rumbled through me and packed extra dynamite to my orgasm. She felt for my cock and pushed her panties aside. And then I was there, the tip of me sliding through slippery flesh that was wet and warm. Hell, I was going to come before I was even inside her.

  None of this made sense, but God, it made all the sense in the world to my balls.

  She moaned my name. And it was raspy and desperate. She wanted me to fuck her. To make her forget.

  “Are you sure?” I panted.

  Her dark eyes filled with heat and the look she gave me was pure bad girl. “I want you to fuck me . . .”

  I sat up with a rush. Sunlight assaulted my eyes while my cock raged in my jeans. I was seconds away from coming, but seeing the bed was empty beside me, my soon-to-be wet dream dissipated like smoke. What the fuck!

  I fell back on the bed.

  Indy had snuck out.

  Just as she had always done.

  INDY

  Now

  I woke up, my body so tight and turned on it would only take the seam of my jeans to rub against my clit once and I’d lose it. It only took me a moment before I realized why. I was in Cade’s arms and the heat of his body was wrapped around me like a cocoon. A big, warm, muscly cocoon.

  My eyes flicked open.

  Fuck.

  I had slept over.

  Worse, I had slept over in his arms.

  This was bad.

  The kind of bad that led to mind-blowing orgasms followed by a world of regret.

  I looked at Cade. Christ, why did he have to look so hot first thing in the morning?

  The way I saw it, I had two choices.

  I could sneak out and pretend that having his body pressed up against me didn’t excite me.

  Or I could stay and give into temptation.

  The throb between my legs begged me to stay. Especially when I saw the hardness punching against Cade’s zipper.

  I let my hand slide between my legs and felt the pulse flare into a relentless throb as it screamed at me to do something. Something with the six-foot-four wall of muscle lying next to me.

  I hastily pulled my hand away.

  Was I insane?

  Regaining my senses, I carefully extracted myself from Cade’s embrace, but froze when he stirred and moaned my name. His lips parted with a sigh but his eyes remained closed. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I took in the image of him. The strong jaw with a hint of scruff. The dimples. The soft fan of dark lashes against his skin. The body that was nothing but muscle. He was beautiful. And sexy. Too sexy. A war ignited inside of me. Both my heart and clit pleaded with me to stay. To touch him. To wake him up with my tongue. To slide my thighs on either side of him and ride his hard cock until I was moaning his name. But my head yelled at me to leave the room and to keep running.

  Before I could do anything I’d regret, I climbed off the bed and quickly left the room.

  Memory lane was too tempting.

  Get in and get out. No distractions. That was the plan.

  “I see,” my mom said as I let myself inside the house via the patio door. She was standing at the kitchen sink drinking a cup of coffee.

  “No, you don’t,” I said rushing past her. “Nothing happened.”

  “That’s why you’re walking in here dressed in the clothes from yesterday.” She took a sip of coffee and winked at me over her cup. “I’m surprised you didn’t try slipping in through your bedroom window like you used to as a teenager.”

  I stopped. “You knew about that?”

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh, baby girl, please.”

  “Just don’t read anything into it,” I said, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring myself a cup.

  Mom raised her hands in innocence. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Thankfully, the doorbell interrupted us and I went to answer it before Mom could say anything more about my sleepover with Cade.

  It was a man from the airline, and he had my missing suitcase. Somehow it had ended up in Anchorage. And then Colorado. Then back to Seattle. Now the damn case had been to more cities in the US than me.

  I thanked the airline man, tipped him twenty, and then dragged my suitcase up to my room. Five minutes later it was open on my bed, and I was staring at the clothes I had packed four days earlier. I shook my head. It was like they belonged to a stranger. Designer labels. Sensible shoes. Respectable pants. Modest shirts. I held up a floral blouse. It was designer and incredibly high quality. Not to mention, expensive. But it was also boring as hell. So were the black slacks I had packed to wear with it. And the safe leather shoes. And the patent leather belt.

  �
�Who are you?” I whispered to myself.

  My mom walked in and stood next to me. She looked at the clothes and then back to me. “Time to go shopping?”

  I closed the suitcase and smiled at her. “I’ll grab my purse.”

  She grinned. “Welcome home, baby girl.”

  INDY—Aged 15

  Then

  I sat on the steps leading to George Jones’s porch with my elbows on my knees and my fists pressed into my cheeks. Farther along the step, George Jones sat looking the other way, refusing to make eye contact with me while I shot bullets at him with my eyes. George Jones was two years older than me. He was a junior while I was a freshman. He thought he was God’s gift to girls. I didn’t. He thought that because he was a boy, and bigger than anyone else in our school, he could harass girls. He was wrong. And I just happened to be the one to tell him.

  With my fist.

  In front of us, his father, George Jones Sr., was talking with Sheriff Buckman.

  It was Sunday and I was at George Jones’s birthday pool party. Behind us, hidden by a tall, wooden fence, George’s seventeenth birthday party was buzzing with the arrival of the police.

  “I want the little troublemaker charged,” George Jones Sr. said with his hands on his hips.

  Above us, dark clouds rumbled with promising rain and I watched a single drop fall onto the bald spot at the back of George Sr.’s head.

  “Now calm down, George. We’re waiting for Veronica Calley to get here, and when she does, we will sort this out.”

  Ronnie was coming because my mom and dad were in Florida visiting my mom’s parents. Things hadn’t been good at home lately.

  “Sort it out? What is there to sort out?” Mr. Jones exclaimed. Perspiration glittered on his shiny forehead. “She gave my son a black eye!”

  George Jones Sr. owned the only men’s clothing store in town. He wore a fancy suit jacket over a crisp white shirt and suspenders, and shoes that were so shiny you could almost see your reflection in them.

  He glanced over his shoulder and gave me a foul look. I didn’t know if he was waiting for me to show a hint of remorse or not, but he could wait all he wanted, I wasn’t going to give him any. When he turned away, I rolled my eyes.