CHAPTER TWENTY

“What are you up to?” Sofia asked.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Wolf's inattentive reply worried her.

Following his movements from one side of the bedroom to the closet and back to the dresser, Sofia tensed.

“I’ve never seen you so wound up.” Where was her easy-going man? If she poked his ribs with a finger, he’d likely combust.

She already suspected he had a plan to get them out of the jam Easy and his brother had landed them in. No matter what he thought, she was involved. She hated standing by and not helping, but everything she could think of would only make matters worse.

Knowing how unreasonable Ramon could be, she knew any interference from her would only cause harm. Might even put Wolf in more danger.

“All’s fine,” he said without looking her way.

He stepped back into the closet. When he emerged, he had his MC skull vest over his leather jacket. Normal, but the bulge beneath his arm alerted her he wore a shoulder holster and gun. He often carried a knife and on occasion hid a gun with a strap beneath his bike’s seat. The man was inventive. She’d never seen him wear one.

She blocked his path when he started toward the hallway.

“If you go to jail, I won’t wait for you.” She bit her lip as soon as the words were out, wishing to swallow the idle threat.

That made him blink. He hadn’t expected that. She had to make him understand how she felt about his carrying a loaded weapon.

“Who said I’m going to jail?”

“The gun you have in your jacket.”

The way he towered over her, glowering, she expected to be shoved out of the way.

Though he looked and sounded angry, his hands tenderly cupped her face. “You don’t want me going out there unarmed. I’ll be dead before the evening is out if I do. This isn’t what I want. I love you. I have to protect you and our future, and this is the only way I know how.”

She stared into his beautiful eyes. “I love you too.” Lifting onto tiptoes, she kissed him with every bit of her desire and need for his return. All the breath left her body by the time she pulled away. Even Wolf’s chest rose and fell in an attempt to regain his breath. “Some days I wish we were like regular people and could let the police handle this kind of craziness.”

“Ah, sweetheart, we’re not made that way.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You know it’s best that we depend on each other. The Brothers of Mayhem protect and take care of our own, even those who lose their way, like Easy. He’s forgotten that the MC isn’t a one-man show. So we have to set him on the right track or clean up the mess.”

No one had to tell her what he meant. Numerous times while living with her cousin, she’d heard similar phrases. If Easy didn’t agree to whatever terms they set, he would be killed and dumped into the cold depths of Smith Lake or any number of other lakes and bogs where a body would not be found for years, if ever. Should one person endanger the whole, they had to be cut out and done away with to protect the group.

“Twofer and Chicken are downstairs. They’ll stay here and keep an eye on things. If they get too loud, tell them to shut up.”

They loved playing Call of Duty and often got quite vocal, slinging insults while shooting.

“Fine.” She grabbed him by the neck and lifted for another kiss. “Be careful and come back in one piece.” She felt like she was sending him out to war. She guessed in a way she was.

Breathless again after he moved his mouth off hers, she let her gaze follow as he strode out of the bedroom. Stiff from worry, she listened to his footsteps rush down the stairs. Her guards shouted bye before the front door firmly shut.

Closing her eyes, she gave a small prayer for his safety.

––––––––

Sofia leaned back against the headboard and shifted her arms holding the book. Video games had never held her interest. She guessed saving every dime to pay bills, purchase a car, and place a down payment on a house, didn’t leave much for games. Hector always said they wasted money and time, instead of living life.

For the last thirty minutes, the men had become quiet.

Checking the clock next to the bed, she guessed they were eating the snacks she’d left them on the kitchen counter. Chicken, being the youngest in the club, probably still had a hollow leg, like most young guys, and never could get his fill.

She wouldn’t mind a bowl of popcorn and a soda too.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she expected to hear the usual teasing and baiting they reveled in. Nothing. No sounds of opening and closing cabinets or the refrigerator drifted up to her. No heavy footsteps. Twofer always walked as if he weighed two tons instead of the two-hundred pounds over his six-foot frame.

“Hey, Chicken? Twofer?” She reached the middle of the stairwell and looked over the rail into the den. No one. Maybe they had stepped outside to smoke.

With all the worrying about Wolf, her anxiety must be taking over her imagination. Maybe their mouths were stuffed with food and that was the reason they were so quiet.

She turned toward the kitchen and stopped. A woman stood in the far corner of the dark hallway. She gasped and pressed a hand to her chest.

“Cherry?” What was she doing there?

“Hi, Sofia. I love what you and Wolf have done with the place.” Cherry walked into the light. “He never brought me here, but one day when we were still dating, I drove out here and peeked inside the windows.”

“What are you doing here with that?” Sofia nodded to the gun in Cherry’s right hand, pointed her way.

“She’s just making sure you don’t run,” a deep voice said behind her.

Sofia swung around.

Easy leaned against the wall, blocking her escape.

Instead of feeling reassured by his smile, a thread of cold wrapped around her heart.

––––––––

Wolf rode alongside Cutter with a handful of the Brothers roaring up behind with the cage, a dirt brown van, they used to carry broken down bikes or, on the odd occasion, prisoners. With the sun going down, the chilly temp was quickly changing to freeze-your-ass-off cold. Even with long johns under his clothes, a thick leather jacket with his Mayhem cut on top, knit gloves, and an Under Armour mask and hood, he felt the bite of the icy wind.

They had been partially successful with their plan, but Easy had disappeared. After checking the clubhouse and bar, Cutter agreed they needed to store their detainee in the old barn about a quarter mile from Wolf’s house until they found Easy. On Trick’s land, the barn was used to store some of his surplus bootleg liquor. He’d given his nephew permission to use it whenever needed.

By the time they tied up their package and left guards, it was too dark, despite the full moon overhead, and too cold to do much more.

“Come on home with me. Warm up some. Sofia usually has a meal ready by now. We always have extras. With Chicken and Twofer there, she’ll double everything anyway.” Wolf loved how the smell of Sofia’s cooking filled the house, making it feel like a home. Everything that woman did pleased him.

“Sure. Riding in this fucking cold weather will work up a man’s appetite.” Cutter swung a long leg over his bike and nodded to a couple of the other Brothers who followed, but would split off before they turned down Wolf’s street.

Less than a quarter mile from the fork, they came out of a curve and a dark silhouette shot out into the road. Everyone scrambled, fishtailing in the dirt on the side of the road and kicking up dry leaves as they tried to miss the man waving his hands. Expletives filled the night air. One Brother went down on the low side, sliding into a shallow ditch.

Once Wolf parked his bike on solid ground, the headlight pointing down the road, he stomped over to the man crumbled across the double-yellow line. He hadn’t thought anyone had hit him, but as his Brothers surrounded the man, the dark, shiny stuff on the back of his head showed to be blood and lots of it.

“Fuck. We didn’t touch him. If he dies, the cops will be all over our asses.” Cutter squatted next to the man and shoved his shoulder. “What the fuck?”

“Hell, man.” Wolf kneeled.

Someone had beaten Chicken bad. His left eye had swollen shut, one cheek black from bruises, lip split, and an ear the size of a cauliflower. Whoever hit him had hit him over and over again.

Wolf looked at the prospect’s clothes. The dark, wet splotches were probably blood. He wasn’t wearing his cut. It had been on his back when Wolf had last seen him that morning. Who would be brave enough to take it off?

The prospect’s legs twitched as if he was trying to run. He was barefooted. His feet all cut up and bloody, and tinged blue from the cold. How could anyone lose so much blood and still live? He’d been running barefooted through the woods, uncaring what he landed on. A man racing for his life would do that.

A voice echoed in the dark. A Brother was calling for the cage to be brought down the road. They had a club doctor who could take care of the prospect without reporting the damage to the authorities. The Brothers of Mayhem took care of their own. Just as he took care of his own.

Sofia! Chicken had been on protection detail with Twofer.

He ran to his bike, straddled and gassed it, almost bringing the front end off the road in a wheelie.

“Please be safe, please be safe, please be safe.” He kept up the chant. No way could he stop. If he did, something bad would happen.