Bull (The Kings of Mayhem MC Book 6) Page 3

  A baby I would love.

  A fucking STD, I wouldn’t.

  I smiled at my niece and my best friend. “Nothing would make me happier.”

  BULL

  I left the clubhouse and headed for home. As the wind whipped across my face, I thought about Indy and Cade, and how River looked just like his father, and how Bella was the cutest thing since fucking sliced bread. Then, I thought of Caleb and Honey, and how their kids crawled all over them, spreading their love and adoration over their parents like fairy dust. I thought of Cassidy and Chance, and precocious little Ava who had her daddy wrapped around her little finger like twine.

  Then I thought of my best friend and my niece, about to start their very own family, and the small ache in my chest, the one that had been there for eighteen years, seeped into every nook and cranny of my dark heart.

  I wasn’t one to feel sorry for myself. It was a waste of fucking time.

  And nobody liked a pity-party for one.

  But something about today’s meeting with my family had dragged some deeply buried shit to the surface.

  I put it down to the apprehension I felt toward what I was going to do. Tomorrow was going to be ugly. I didn’t enjoy a lot of the things I did as president, but some things needed to be done. Tomorrow was no different. It was probably why I was feeling so damn nostalgic.

  I rode through the afternoon light, hoping the warm breeze coming in off the river would clear away the nostalgia. I wasn’t a man who was a slave to his emotions. Like everything in my life, I kept them in check. But when I felt the slow creep of something dark entering my mind, taking a ride was the perfect fucking elixir. There was nothing like the wind whipping against your body and rushing past your face to clear your head and leave you feeling high.

  As I pulled up to the set of lights near the elementary school, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. In the parking lot behind the bus stop, three older kids were pushing around a smaller kid. It was your typical middle school shoulder shoving stuff, but experience told me the smaller kid was way out of his league with these guys.

  One thing I won’t ever tolerate is an older punk picking on someone smaller than him. Let alone two on one.

  Obviously, I belong to a motorcycle club. We thrive as a pack. But I’ll tell you one thing, my club exists as a powerful union. Not a pack of fucking bullies. And you won’t catch us crushing the little guy just because we can. It was a lesson my daddy taught me from an early age. And one I was about to teach these little punks right now.

  Because I knew what it felt like to be picked on.

  Knew what it was like to feel small and feeble.

  When I was a small boy, I used to walk home from school by myself. I used to cut through the watermelon fields and wade through the shallows of the river toward our home near the railroad tracks. Jethro and Camryn Stuber were three years older than me…and mean as fuck. Their older brother, Waylon, was four years older, and even meaner. They thought it was fun to throw stones…and then rocks. Then they thought it was fun to hold me down in the mud and water until I couldn’t breathe. One time, they thought it would be really fun to hold me down until I stopped fighting and became still in the murky water.

  Four decades later, I could still feel my lungs burning and my brain crying for oxygen as my world slowly and excruciatingly turned to black. Veronica had found me in the shallows, barely alive. She told me later that she thanked God every single day for saving my life, that if she had come along a few minutes later, I might have died. But I did die in those shallows. Because the boy who woke up from the terrible darkness was different. He knew how it felt to be helpless, how it felt to feel vulnerable and weak, and he promised himself that he wasn’t ever going to feel that way again.

  Roaring off the road, I startled all of them when I pulled up with a violent screech of tires.

  Two of the punks were smart enough to look scared. They were twins. Identical. Both sharing the same look of panic at my arrival.

  The third, a taller kid who was obviously the leader of the pack, looked impressed by me and my bike. He let go of the smaller kid’s t-shirt and puffed out his chest.

  “Nice bike, man,” he said with a raise of his chin.

  Flattery never got anyone anywhere with me.

  “You know who I am, kid?”

  “You’re Bull. You’re the president of the Kings of Mayhem.”

  “That’s right. And do you know who the Kings of Mayhem are?”

  The kid grinned. “They’re bad motherfuckers.”

  I nodded. “Yes, we are, indeed, bad motherfuckers. And you know who the meanest, baddest motherfucker of them all is?”

  His brow wrinkled. “You?”

  “That’s right. Me. And see that kid over there that you’re roughing up—”

  “I wasn’t roughing him—”

  “Now, don’t go making a liar out of yourself, son. You lie and people get to knowing that they can’t trust you. And in my world, that gets you in some pretty deep shit. Now, like I was saying, see that kid over there whose shirt you had in your fist when I pulled up?”

  The kid nodded, his face slowly stiffening with fear.

  “He’s a friend of the Kings of Mayhem.”

  “He is?”

  “Damn straight. And we don’t like our friends being picked on by older kids.”

  “I…we didn’t…know.”

  “I realize that, son. But now you do.” I took off my glasses, bending down a little to get up close and personal, letting the little shits see my eyes in all their glory, and the kid almost wet himself. “Do I make myself clear? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?”

  The kid looked over at his friends who were still staring at me, their eyes wide and mouths open. The smaller kid, the one whom they’d been picking on had backed away, but his big blue eyes were glued to me, watching on intently.

  “I’m sorry…Bull.”

  “What’s your name, kid?”

  “It’s Tommy.”

  “And Ren and Stimpy over there, who are they?”

  “That’s Jethro and Eli.”

  “Ok, Tommy. It ain’t me you should be apologizing to, it’s him.” I nodded toward the little guy.

  Tommy followed my line of sight to the kid who had shrunk back even farther.

  “We’re sorry…” he called over to him.

  “You don’t speak for your friends,” I said. I turned to look at the twins. “You all do the crime, then you all do the time.”

  The twins hastily offered their apologies.

  “It won’t happen again,” Tommy said.

  I fixed my cold eyes on him. “No, it won’t.”

  He shivered and ran his hand through his hair.

  That’s when I noticed the small tattoo on his thumb. It was crude and ugly, made by cutting the skin and rubbing ink into the wound.

  I gestured to it. “You do that?”

  He nodded.

  “It doesn’t make you tough, Tommy. When you’re eighteen, come see us. We’ll hook you up with some art. Now get the hell out of here.”

  The three kids scattered and ran off, leaving me alone with the little guy.

  He didn’t say anything, he just stared at me with those big eyes and took a step back.

  TAYLOR

  “This has to be some kind of bad joke.”

  “I assure you it ain’t no joke, sweetheart.”

  I looked at the bill in my hand. It was for three-thousand dollars.

  “But I didn’t do it. I wasn’t anywhere near your car.” I looked at Willy Breeze, my sleazy boss. We were in his office at Slingers, a place where men came to jerk off to women sliding up and down a pole, and where my dreams came to die.

  Although I shouldn’t complain. It paid the bills. And as far as strip joints, this wasn’t the worst—and I’d worked in enough of them to be a good judge.

  I looked at my watch. Very aware of the time.

  My shift had finished f
ive minutes ago, and I needed to pick up my younger brother from school. I didn’t have time for Sleazy Breezy to get his panties in a twist about something I didn’t do.

  “I got CCTV footage of you taking out the trash, sweetheart. You brushed it up against the Camaro on the way to them bins and scratched the paintwork.”

  “I’ve never taken the trash out, Willy.”

  “Then how come I got it on camera?”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Oh yeah, if you got it on camera, then let’s see this footage.”

  “I can’t. On account I have already given it to my lawyer.”

  “Your lawyer?” I raised an eyebrow at him. I knew a shakedown when I saw it.

  “He says I got a case for compensation from you.”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  “Says you pay the bill and we’re square.”

  I shook my head. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not paying you one penny.”

  “Then I’ll have no choice but to sue you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “And fire you.”

  I shot him a filthy look. “You really are an asshole, Willy.”

  “Of course, I don’t want it to get to that. Lawyers can be such leeches. Now, if you’re willing, I’m open to negotiations.”

  The look on his face made the hair on the back of my neck curl.

  “How about I throw you a bone?” he said lasciviously, his voice lowering and taking on a sickly, syrupy cadence as he took a step closer to me. “Since I’m a nice guy, I’ll let you work it off in other ways. What do you think, sweetheart?”

  I think if you call me sweetheart one more time, I’m going to set fire to your face.

  I took a step away from him.

  “Let me get this straight? You’re trying to blame me for scratching your car, which I didn’t do, and now you’re offering me a chance to work off the money I apparently owe you by climbing on your dick?”

  He grinned. “That’s it, baby. You got it in a nutshell.”

  “This is bullshit,” I said scrunching the bill up and throwing it at him. “If you think I’m paying that, then you’re delusional. And if you think I’m going anywhere near that pathetic dick of yours, then you’re even crazier than they say.”

  I threw my bag over my shoulder and turned to leave. I should’ve been gone ten minutes ago. Noah’s school let out in five minutes, and I still had a fifteen-minute car ride across town to get there.

  But as I went to walk out, Willy grabbed my arm and yanked me back to him. “Listen to me, you stuck-up little bitch, you gonna pay for what you did to my car. And if you don’t, then I’m just going to take it from you, with interest. And I don’t mean out of your wages. You feel me?”

  He reached between us and forced my hand onto the bulge in the front of his pants. Feeling his erection against my palm, my reflexes kicked in and I shoved a sharp knee into his groin.

  When he keeled over with a groan, I stood over him. “Yeah, I felt that loud and clear, Willy. And I gotta say, it really wasn’t that impressive.”

  “You fucking bitch… you gonna pay…” He spat, clutching his balls.

  “So you keep saying.” I crouched down beside him and leaned closer so only he could hear me. “Just so we’re clear. If you ever try to put your hands on me again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  Rising to my feet, I pushed open the front door and burst into the mid-afternoon sun, making a sprint to my beat-up car parked in the alley behind the club. I hated being late to pick up Noah. We’d only been in Destiny for three months, and he really hadn’t made any friends in that time. He wasn’t a confident kid, no matter what I did to try and boost his self-confidence.

  I sped across town, arriving twenty minutes late, panic flaring in me when Noah wasn’t waiting in his usual spot under the maple tree in front of the administration office.

  I sent a text message to his phone. Where are you? Then checked the playground, the parking lot, and finally the bus shelter.

  That was when I saw him.

  With a stranger.

  A stranger with tattoos up and down his arms.

  A stranger in a Kings of Mayhem cut.

  BULL

  “Where’s your mama, kid.”

  The kid was watching me intently, and I had a feeling those eyes of his didn’t miss a thing.

  “I don’t have a mom. Just my sister, and she’s late picking me up.” He looked around the empty lot, and his gaze landed on the three punks watching us from up the street.

  “They do that often?” I asked.

  When he didn’t reply, I took a step toward him and he looked at me.

  “They pick on you a lot, kid?” The look on his face told me I was right. “You spoken to your sister about it?”

  He looked away and nodded. “But she calls the school and tells them, and that makes them meaner.”

  “I see.” I drew in a deep breath as I thought about it for a moment. When I crouched down so I was eye-level with him, he looked up. “You wanna know what I do when someone is mean to me?”

  He nodded.

  “I defend myself. If I can’t talk my way out of shit—I mean, a situation—then I make sure I can fight my way out.”

  I glanced at the kids up the street. Tommy was lighting a cigarette and started to cough. When the twins laughed at him, he shoved one of them in the shoulder.

  Yeah, I wasn’t leaving this kid alone on the street with those little punks watching. Sure, they said it wouldn’t happen again, but I knew how kids were prone to temptation.

  “Want me to show you how you can protect yourself while we wait for your sister to show up?”

  The kid’s eyes lit up and he grinned. But it faded quickly. “She says I can’t talk to strangers.”

  “Your sister sounds like a real smart lady. And she’s right, you shouldn’t. You got a name?”

  “Noah.”

  “That’s a pretty cool name, dude. You can call me Bull.”

  “Your name is cooler than mine.” He glanced over at the kids still lurking at the end of the street. By the looks of it, the twins were trying to get Tommy to leave, but he wasn’t having any of it. He leaned against a streetlight, watching. Noah looked nervous. “I suppose we ain’t strangers no more.”

  I smiled. “I guess not. That mean you want me to show you how to stop them if they try bullying you again?”

  He nodded shyly.

  I walked him through some simple block moves, and was surprised at how quick he picked it up. It was almost like he already knew some of them.

  So, I showed him one or two moves you wouldn’t find in any martial arts handbook. Thug moves. Because when you needed to protect yourself against a thug, you needed to know how a thug moved.

  After showing him the quickest way to get someone’s hand off you, I glanced up. The kids up the street were still watching us. Good. Let them see what this kid was about to learn. Maybe then they’d stop bullying him. The little fuckers.

  But just as I was about to show him something else, I heard a feminine voice call out. I glanced up. A woman was storming across the parking lot toward us. And for God knows what reason, but in that moment the first thing that squirreled its way into my head was how fucking hot she was. Good body. Long legs in the shortest, tightest Daisy Dukes. An ample rack barely contained behind a black tank top. A thick ponytail trailing behind her.

  When she reached us, I was taken back by the fire in her big brown eyes.

  She looked like she was ready to kill me.

  She looked like she was ready to kill me, over and over.

  Yet I couldn’t suppress my smile.

  This woman was a firecracker.

  And I didn’t know it yet.

  But this was the very moment my world flipped on its ass, and nothing would ever be the same again.

  TAYLOR

  “Who are you?” I demanded, protectively pulling my brother to me. I glanced at the Harley beside us, and then to the biker standin
g in front of me. The patch on the front of his leather vest read President. “And what the hell are you doing with my brother?”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said with a smooth, Southern drawl. “I was just helping the kid out.”

  “It didn’t look like you were trying to help him. It looked like you were trying to hit him.”

  The biker looked at me casually, his brow creased. “You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.”

  I glared at him. “Then explain it to me.”

  “The kid was having some issues with his friends. I was riding past when I saw what was happening, so I stopped.”

  I looked around us, but the parking lot was empty.

  “Friends?” I held Noah at arm’s length so he could read my lips because I could already see he had taken his hearing aids out. “Did Tommy Albright and the Lewis twins do something to you?”

  My brother’s downcast eyes and reluctant shrug confirmed my fears, and my heart broke. I had spoken to the school. I had even spoken to the parents. And for a while things had improved. But for some reason, when the three troublemakers got bored, they entertained themselves by picking on Noah.

  Because he was different.

  And because they were assholes.

  I pulled him back into my arms, but he wriggled free.

  Don’t treat me like a baby, he signed. I’m not a freak.

  Another crack split into my heart.

  No, you’re not, I signed back to him. No one here thinks that.

  He will, he signed angrily, aiming his thumb at the biker who was watching us intently.

  “He’s deaf?” the biker asked.

  I gave him a sharp look. “Not completely. He usually wears hearing aids, but he takes them off because the kids pick on him.”

  His brow furrowed, and it was a ridiculously sexy look.

  “I was just talking to him and he seemed to understand me,” he said.

  “He can read lips,” I explained, trying not to notice how smoky and delicious his deeply masculine voice was.

  Noah tugged my arm. Stop talking about me like I’m not here.

  I’m sorry, I signed back.