CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Wolf leaned closer to his gas tank, letting the windshield increase the aerodynamics by cutting back on the drag caused by his body. In less than five minutes, he roared up his drive and slowed enough to drop his bike and run toward the house. Never in a million years would he mistreat a bike in such a way, but this was Sofia. He kept telling himself not to be an idiot and run into the house, to take it slow, but he couldn’t take the chance that Easy was torturing her. That she needed him at that moment. He pulled his Beretta M9 and headed for the door.

He knew it had to be Easy. Ramon was tied up and under guard at the barn. No one else in the Thirty-Second dared to beat a Mayhem Brother, and Easy was crazy and mean enough to do it. He’d already proved that.

As soon as he pushed open the front door, he dove onto the floor, belly sliding across the polished wood, slamming into the back of the couch.

No gunfire, but unenthusiastic clapping greeted his actions.

“What a show!”

Raising his gaze over the edge of the couch, Wolf gradually came to his feet, his weapon pointed at Easy. Cherry clapped off to the side.

The MC’s president stood in front of the fireplace mantel. His arm across Sofia’s chest and a gun pressed below her ear. If he fired, there would be no saving Sofia. It would blow away a carotid artery and everything around it and any hope to stop the bleeding. In a few short seconds, she’d be dead.

The asshole had made a big mistake. His life was forfeit, no matter what the outcome. No one could point a gun at Sofia and not expect to pay.

Wolf kept Cherry in his peripheral vision. She still clapped, obviously enjoying the treacherous scene being played before her.

“Hand her your gun.” Easy nodded toward Cherry.

Without a choice, he held out the Beretta grip first, safety on. As soon as Cherry tightened her fingers, he wanted to yank it back. He could easily pull the woman in his arms and threaten her life in the same manner as Easy did Sofia, but it wouldn’t do any good. To Easy, a woman’s life didn't mean much. Otherwise, he’d never endanger Sofia’s.

Then Easy made his second mistake. He pushed Sofia off to the side, sending her tumbling into an end table. A popping sound of breaking glass followed by the crash of the lamp onto the floor threw the room into shadows. The only illumination came from the kitchen along with the outside security light through the curtains.

At that moment, he glimpsed Cutter sneaking up behind Cherry. Before she could react, he wrapped strong arms around her torso and grabbed her wrists, lifting the barrel of the gun. The loud burst of gunfire in the small house brought the immediate spray of sheet rock showering on them.

As Cutter grappled with Cherry, Wolf knocked Easy’s gun up and away from Sofia and the others. Another bullet plowed into the ceiling. Wolf’s feet became tangled with Easy’s, and they fell to the floor. The gun skittered across the floor. In a fluid move, he jabbed downward into the crazy old man’s face, making sure to break his nose and loosen some teeth. He had to hand it to the bastard, he was a tough old bird. Easy grunted and began to fight back.

Worried about Sofia as she held her head acting dazed by the fall, Wolf let loose a couple more swings at Easy, trying to incapacitate the man long enough to help her.

With relief, he caught sight of Twofer stumbling into the room from the kitchen. Obviously, Easy had done the same to him as he’d done to Chicken. His eyes were black and almost swollen shut. The tall Mayhem Brother lifted a protesting Sofia and moved her out of the room just as Easy tossed a right hook toward Wolf. He ducked and punched a fist into the soft belly of his chapter president.

Banging followed by the crash of the front door being knocked off its hinges stopped all the fighting. Screaming and shouting echoed in the living room. A swarm of masked uniforms filled the downstairs. Printed across the vests were the letters ATF. Their semi-automatic carbines aimed at them all.

Wolf clipped Easy on the chin one more time before he raised his hands and backed off. Despite being pushed onto the floor, face down and a knee placed in his back, the agents ignored him. He lifted his head enough to make sure Sofia was okay. She was on the floor too, but no one had a knee pressing her down. He was unsure what he could do, but some of the bastards would be spitting out blood if they harmed her.

One of the uniforms with his face covered leaned over Sofia and said something too soft for Wolf to hear. He recognized the build and the way he held his shoulders. Her brother, Angel.

––––––––

Legs stretched out into the hallway, Wolf sat outside the board room at the club house, waiting for the executive meeting to be over. It wasn’t church. None of the general members had been invited. The Skull, the national president of the Brothers of Mayhem, Speed Crane, was there. He’d walked in earlier, scowling and barking at everyone.

With Easy placing the home chapter and club in such a bad spot, they had to discuss what to do next. Would they spend precious club funds to hire a lawyer for his case or leave him on his own? They had to decide on whether or not Easy had used his authority for the greater good of the club or for personal gain.

Then they had to discuss whether or not Wolf had been involved with the authorities and revealed club business.

All the Brothers were called to be on standby for church after the national boys were finished fighting over whose fault it was that Easy fucked the club up.

One thing about the club, they skirted the law and even broke it to take care of the club and their own, but murder was frowned on, especially by the president of a chapter. When that happened, the federal officials loved to swoop in and take everyone in for suspicion of murder and as accomplices. Their reasoning was if the leader of an organization was doing wrong, then everyone was in on it.

He leaned his head against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. Water stains darkened an area in one corner. That brought to mind about his own home. He closed his eyes in a groan.

Damn it. Bullet holes. I just painted that fucking ceiling a couple weeks ago.

What was he doing worrying about shit like that?

“Wolf, I need your help.”

He rolled his head on the wall and opened his eyes.

Sofia stood outside a utility closet. His chest tightened. A black-and-blue bruise stretched from her temple to under one beautiful chocolate eye. Why he let that asshole Easy live, he’d never know.

God, he loved that woman.

“Wolf? Are you listening?” she asked in her sweet voice.

She’d been helping Mindy clean up the kitchen in the club house. With the national board there and the other chapter presidents pulled in, the old ladies had thrown together a barbecue to feed the crews. He’d told Sofia she could stay with Trick. She should be safe there as Jennifer had moved in too. Hard to believe, but Wolf believed his uncle planned to marry the woman.

“Yeah, babe.” His gaze ate up her outfit. She wore a black shirt that hugged her boobs. Nice view especially when she became excited and her nipples poked out. Even her pants took his breath away. They were the type that look plastered over her ass and ended below her knees. He groaned. Oh, yes. For sure looked good enough to eat. But he loved how the big letters stretched across her chest proclaimed she belonged to Wolf, The Property Of, in fact.

He didn’t want anyone forgetting it.

“Come here and help me reach a top shelf.” Her innocent look didn’t fool him one minute.

Another groan eased out from the middle of his chest.

“Sugar, if I’m not here when they come out, I’ll be buried beneath the shit I’m already knee deep in.”

“It won’t take long. One of the old ladies said that when Cutter came out of meeting for some sodas, that we would eat in another hour. So you have at least forty-five minutes before they stop for a break or finish.” She popped that hip out and crooked a finger at him.

How could he resist?