Mayhem (Dauntless MC Book 3) Read online

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  Mayhem

  © Colombian Cartel--Dauntless MC Series

  Copyright © 2013 Suzanne Steele

  Published by Suzanne Steele

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of Fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales, are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All other characters, incidence and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademark status of various products and locales referenced to in this fictional work, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. All rights reserved. No part of this book can be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover photo © Dollar Photo Club

  Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Editing by Kayla Drake Editing

  Formatting by Suzanne Steele

  Thank you for downloading this e-book.

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  All content herein is protected under copyright law.

  This e-book is Rated 17+

  To the Reader

  The men I write about are Alpha males in every sense of the word. They are the men society warns us about. They are dominant males with controlling tendencies. They are the men you know you should stay away from, and yet are drawn to like a moth to a flame.

  If you are looking for a sweet romance, you won't find it here. What you will find is dark passion. My heroes often carry what would be considered an obsession for the women they love. Each character I create has demanded their voice be heard. I have been true to that calling. I have stayed true to their personalities and to the beliefs that drive the choices they make, with which the reader may not always agree. The world my characters occupy is dark and often their love is dysfunctional but, nonetheless, their stories must be told.

  Stalk me…

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  The clapboard house located just outside of the Portland neighborhood wasn’t someplace you would drive past and covet. It was basic brown in color, the sidewalk along with the foundation had deep cracks in it. Weeds grew up through the cracks of the broken pathway that led to the front door and the grass was usually overgrown. There was constant barking from the dog chained out back that had now become nothing but background noise to neighbors, pedestrians, and the family that inhabited the fifteen-hundred square foot space.

  It wasn’t the kind of place you would drive past and think ‘home sweet home’ with its windows covered by sheets and the ripped-up couch on the front porch. There was no evidence of stability, and unless you knew the inhabitants, you would never know the rooms and corridors were filled with love. Roderick had done everything he could to ensure his family was on the outskirts and not in the middle of the crime-infested Portland neighborhood. Every decision he made he made for his wife Jewel and his daughter Harley.

  There were plenty of nights classic rock blared through the speakers but none of the neighbors dared to call the police. Bikers from the Dauntless MC club would be scattered throughout the home and yard partying. Cocaine, liquor, and pot flowed freely. It wasn’t the type of home a kid should grow up in, but his daughter was loved and cared for by not only her family but her extended biker family. There was more love behind the clapboard siding than there was in many homes where neighborhoods were pristine, and money was never an issue.

  Roderick took a swig from the bottle he held loosely between two fingers. He’d quit bothering to pour the whiskey in a glass hours ago. He was a man with too much on his mind. He’d spent his life as a career criminal, but he was getting older now and he wanted out. He was caught between two worlds and neither were going to be happy about his decision to go straight. He laughed when the question of ‘who was more dangerous?’ ran through his mind. The bikers were killers, but the Colombians were crazy. When his daughter became involved with King it put him smack dab in the middle of two very dangerous organizations. He never would have thought his strait-laced daughter who had vowed to be free of the biker lifestyle would fall for a man in the Colombian cartel. He of all people knew love had a mind of its own and was a relentless predator. When he’d met his wife, they were total opposites but love had prevailed. Through that love they had produced their daughter Harley.

  “You’re drunk, babe. Wanna talk to me?”

  Roderick looked up through hooded eyes at his wife Jewel. She stood in a white midriff t-shirt with no bra, cutoff jean shorts, and barefoot feet with cherry red polish on her toenails. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Do you ever hate me for cutting off your finger?”

  “Yeah, but I got over it years ago. Give me a shot of that whiskey.” She held out her four fingered hand and guzzled down much more than a shot when he handed her the bottle. Jewel could drink most men under the table. “So…we’ll get drunk together and work out whatever’s on your mind.” They both knew drugs and alcohol weren’t the answer to everything, but it damn sure dulled the pain and blurred the sharp edges of stress, and in this case, fear.

  As far as Roderick was concerned the woman lived up to her name; she was his Jewel. She was as smart as a whip and as tough as nails. Her family had pretty much disowned her when she hooked up with him and she never looked back. There had never been the mourning depression of regret and she’d never blamed him for the way her family was. She was the offspring of a family who was rich in money and poor in love. Her allegiance belonged to her man and he loved her for that. The birth of her daughter had softened her parent’s determination to disown Jewel and over the years Roderick and Jewel had worked out a semi-civil arrangement with the grandparents. If time healed all wounds, surely the miracle of life could cause the wounds to be sca
rred over and accepted.

  “Spill it, tell mama all your woes.” She tucked her legs beneath her and sat at the other end of the couch, taking another pull from the bottle. Her look was as direct as it was determined. They would get through whatever problems arose as a family unit.

  “I love our daughter, but she has put me in a predicament.”

  “Aw… gotcha. Caught between two crazy worlds. Wonder which one of them is more dangerous?"

  Roderick laughed, “Tell me we aren’t one; I was thinking the same thing.”

  She took another drink. The buzz she was getting felt good. “Wanna do a line of coke? It’ll help straighten you up.” She jumped up and grabbed a mirror, a straw, and used her license to scrape out a huge line for him before giving him a chance to answer. He bent over and snorted the line. She was right, his head felt immediately clearer. She followed suit and settled in to help him get out of trouble.

  “My money is on the Colombians. That fucking Antonio Wayne enjoys torturing people. He’s a sadist. His motto is a chainsaw is the Colombian’s truth serum. He just cuts off body parts until they talk. I wonder if part of him hopes they won’t talk until they’re at death’s door.”

  “I’m sure he still kills them. It’s funny how people hold onto hope until the end. They want to believe so badly that he’s going to let them live.” Her eyes took on a glossed-over look of contemplation. “I think you’re right. The Colombians are crazy. Now that we’ve deduced that, I say you try and get out of Dauntless MC. The brotherhood loves you. Somewhere in those darkened hearts of theirs the guys have a soft spot for you. That has to count for something.”

  “What do you think they’ll want?”

  “I know what they’ll want.”

  “I’m thinking the same thing,” he shook his head then bent down and did another line of coke. When he finished, she did one, too. He sat back and looked at her, seriously. “There’s a saying: ‘it’s always the last job that gets you’.”

  “Don’t say that, Roderick. I can’t imagine my life without you. Don’t even put something that negative out into the universe.”

  Not saying it wasn’t going to stifle the feeling of impending doom. If he wanted out of the club, it would to be on their terms or there would be bloodshed—his.

  Chapter One

  Preacher scrubbed his hands over his face; partly in frustration and partly because his hair was in his eyes. He could feel the beginning of a dull ache behind his eyes.

  “Why don’t you just cut your hair or tie it back, man? It’s always hanging in your eyes,” Tiny waited for an answer like Preacher would reveal his reasoning. He was shocked when he did.

  “Because I want the choice of whether or not someone can look into these baby greens.”

  “Wear sunglasses.”

  “Are we here to talk about my fashion choices or Roderick?” the dull ache behind his eyes was becoming a steady throb of pain. Maybe he did need glasses. He was getting too old for this shit. Maybe Roderick was smarter than all of them.

  “I mean, I don’t understand it. Why would anybody want to give up all this?” Tiny waved his arm for emphasis.

  Preacher looked around at the large main room in the clubhouse that was the size of a bar and decorated like one, too; complete with beer signs, a pool table, and a bar with stools. The walls were dingy, the pool table had God knew what kind of bodily fluids on it, and the bar was full of beer bottles and cigarette butts from the party they’d had the night before.

  “Yep, hard to believe anybody would want to give up the Ritz,” Preacher said with sarcasm.

  “I’m not talking about the décor, man. I’m talking about the brotherhood. There’s a sense of family here. We got each other’s backs.”

  “If I had to guess, Tiny, I’d say the Roderick’s caught between two worlds.”

  “I could understand that if there was no peace treaty.” There was no part of Tiny—the acting president of Dauntless MC—that would ever not stick up for the club and the members in it. Dauntless MC was all he knew.

  “Maybe he feels like he’s getting old.”

  “We’re all getting old, Preacher.”

  Preacher looked up at the president of Dauntless MC through his hair that had landed in his eyes again. “The question is: how are you going to handle him wanting out?”

  “If it was anybody but Roderick it would be so much easier. You can beat the shit out of somebody you don’t like, that or put a bullet in their brain.” Now, it was Tiny who was scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration. “We’ve got jobs that need to be done. He’s going to have to earn his way out.”

  “I don’t think he’ll ever be out. The club is too deeply ingrained in him and Jewel, too. He may be on the fringes, but he’ll never be out. He won’t be the first man to have his hand in two pots. As long as it doesn’t cause problems for either organization I don’t see where it matters.” Preacher didn’t want to face the fact he was defending his longtime friend. You couldn’t spend years eating, drinking, fucking, and getting high with a brother and not be bonded. The men had killed enemies together. They knew secrets about each other they would take to the grave. In a sense, the men of Dauntless were tighter with each other than they were their own women. You couldn’t just cut relationships like that off without feelings being involved.

  The club was more family oriented than many families. They’d gone so far as to do time for each other—taking care of each other’s families while behind bars. Both men agreed on the fact they weren’t going to turn on Roderick because he was going through something. Whatever it was they would do what they always did: fight their fucking way through it. Together.

  Chapter Two

  Harley fiddled with a stick; running it over the fencing absentmindedly as she watched King work with his boa Lola.

  Lola’s tongue slithered out as if giving King a kiss, but King’s attention was on his woman. “What’s on your mind, baby girl?”

  Harley took a moment to study King. His dark brown hair layered with sun streaked blond highlights mixed with his boyish features gave the illusion King was an All-American college kid. In truth, he was a ruthless killer who spent his time coming up with ways to kill for the Colombian cartel. His last hit had been poisoning a man with spiders. His best friend Tony Ramirez was a man given to finding his enemies psychological fears and using them against them. When the men had found out one of their enemies was terrified of spiders, King had built a box that locked around the man’s head and filled it with poisonous spiders and the man had died in terror. King and Tony had been the best of friends ever since. Running the exotic animal refuge owned by the Colombian cartel made it easy to find various ways of dealing with the cartel’s many enemies. When an animal did your dirty work, they never left a trace of evidence. Unlike people there was no DNA, no fingerprints, and the accident always looked like just that. Some poor unsuspecting human had been subjected to an animal’s instinct and no one would be held accountable for what had actually been a master plan carried out by a mastermind.

  “I’m worried about my dad. I don’t know if he’s going through a mid-life crisis or what, but he’s convinced he can’t stay in Dauntless MC and be connected to the Colombian cartel, too. I think he just wants out. When’s he going to learn you don’t retire from crime? It gets in your bones and becomes a part of you.”

  King palmed Harley’s cheek. She was so beautiful. He wondered how she’d remained so pure after growing up in a biker’s club, but she’d managed. His world was surrounded by evil and Harley was the only good thing in it. He would do anything to hold onto the peace she gave him. She was the reason he was able to sleep at night without hearing the screams of those he’d tortured and eventually killed for the Colombian cartel. No man escaped the dreams that came with being a killer, no matter how coldblooded he was. You could fool yourself; telling yourself you were different, but they always came.

  His hands felt incredibly strong from the work he did on th
e animal refuge; he made her feel safe. Just telling him what was bothering her seemed to lift the weight she’d been carrying. The weight of the world on her shoulders due to two crazy ass parents who lived every moment of life to its fullest. Somehow the roles between child and parent had been reversed and Harley was the responsible one. She looked up into his face as if he was her redeemer; her only chance to survive in two fucked up worlds.

  “Need I remind you, Harley…the Colombian cartel and Dauntless MC have a peace treaty. You and me”—he smiled as he waved a finger back and forth between them— “we strengthen that treaty because of who we are; because of our deep roots to both organizations. You’re safe with me and your parents are, too.”

  She brushed a lock of unruly hair from his eyes and smiled. “I just don’t know why he has to be going through this, now. It’s like he’s conflicted or something. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he just wants out all-together. I never thought I’d say this, King, but he isn’t safe if he gets out. Dauntless MC has fucked a lot of people and I worry about my dad being out there alone. Dad needs their protection. You know how these streets are; word gets out he’s solo and he’ll have a target on his back. Grudges don’t die in these streets.”

  A shadow swept over King’s expression and Harley felt it chill her to the bone. The fear… it was one of the things that melted her bones when he fucked her like he hated her. Whether he left her cold with fear or hot with passion—he always left her craving more of what he only could give her. He always left her feeling like a woman—his woman.

  “You’re bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. For that reason, your father will never be unprotected; same goes for your mom. My first concern is and always has been you. Because they matter to you, they matter to me. You of all people know not much does. I’ll fuck somebody up over you and your family.”

  He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Something about that small steady movement made her feel safe. It was a feeling she was unaccustomed to. She’d grown up wondering when the bottom would fall out from beneath her, but King made her feel as if the ground beneath her was as rock solid as he was.