CHAOS (A Lords of Sin MC Novel) (Motorcycle Club Bad Boy Romance) (14 page)

“That’s what we’re trying to look in to,” Duke took up for Zipper. “If what we’ve heard is correct, we have got some serious trouble on our hands. Tomorrow, I want all of my men getting a feel on the street. Word has it they like to sell meth. If that’s true, we shouldn’t have any problems shaking down Fifth Street.”

“That ain’t no shit, it’s where all the dope heads hang out.” Drew said, lighting a joint to pass around the table.

After church was over, we headed to the bar for a few drinks. While everyone was kicked back getting blow jobs from the club whores, I got to thinking about the situation at hand. If what the MC had heard was true, I didn’t want to wait another day to find out. Walking into my room, I opened the top drawer of my dresser and started gathering my own supply of weapons and ammo. As the enforcer of this club, it was my job to get to the bottom of shit while Zipper played suck up to the prez. I didn’t need protection like Duke did—I
am
the protection. Once all of my guns were loaded, I slid one into my shoulder holster, one in the back of my pants and another in my boot. Heading out of the clubhouse, Drew stopped me.

“Where you goin’ brother?” he followed me out to the parking lot.

“I got some shit to take care of.” Lying to a brother wasn’t something I normally did, but tonight is an exception.

“Want me to come with you?”

“Nah, man. You go back inside and have a good time.”

Slipping on my brain bucket, I climbed on my Harley and spread my gloves over my enormous hands. I fired up my bike and rode past Skeeter and Griffin who were manning the gate, heading out on a mission. The streets were clear except a few hookers working the corner near Toadies, a local bar. I recognized one of the girls, she used to be a straggler at the clubhouse but she couldn’t hack it. Heading down to Fifth Street, I saw a group of bikers parked outside a liquor store. Pulling onto the lot, I didn’t recognize any of the bikes; though, they were all the same color: black and orange. Lighting up a smoke, I waited in the parking lot as I watched them through the large glass front. The leader of the bunch stood near the counter while his men hauled liquor to the register. Within a few minutes, they were in the parking lot loading up their saddlebags with the booze they’d just bought.

Keeping my distance, I followed them to an old warehouse where it looked like they’d set up shop. The busted windows allowed me a clearer view of the inside through the dark night sky. A large generator hummed, supplying electricity to the spotlights they had set up on the lower level of the abandoned building. My Spidey senses kicked in and I got the feeling someone was watching me. Looking around in all directions, I spotted one of the prospects—Skeeter—sitting on his bike, hidden behind a bus stop at the end of the block.
Fuck me
.
I got off my bike and walked right up to him.

“Glad you could make it, but the fucked up thing? I don’t remember inviting you.”

“I, uh…I was seeing what you were up to. If you needed some help or somethin’.”

“Goddamn, Skeeter, you can’t tail a guy and park right out in the open and not expect to get caught.”

“Drew told me to follow you. Just doin’ what the patch told me to do.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll tell you what.” I turned my head from side to side, popping my neck. “Now the patch—this patch—is going to tell you something else. You wanna play games and follow me? I gotta new job for you tonight. I’m gonna head home and you’re gonna babysit these assholes. Seeing that you wanted to watch people tonight, this seems right up your alley.”

The only reason I was letting him babysit these guys was because it didn’t look like much was going on. If they were here to sell drugs, they were lacking customers. From the looks of things, all I could tell was that they were priming the abandoned warehouse for something to come.

“Okay, and what should I do if I see anything?” his voice cracked, sounding like he was going through goddamned puberty.

“Didn’t you hear me? Watch ‘em. Report back to me tomorrow and don’t let the others know where you trailed me to. This is between us—at least for now. And if you play your cards right, this might earn you your top rocker.”

“Really? You think so?”

“What are you? A giddy fucking school girl? Keep your eyes open.”

Walking to my bike, I could hear the Dirty Dozen laughing and drinking. With Skeeter watching them, he could let me know if they started moving things in or if it was just a party night for the guys. Riding home, I thought about Raven. I never thought anyone could tame me, but her pussy was like a good line of coke. Each time you got your fix, you couldn’t wait to get the next hit. She had a good head on her shoulders. Brains and looks are a rare combination, especially when you’re talkin’ about chicks walking into a MC, but she had ‘em both. By the time I got home, my dick was hard after thinking about her. I looked at the clock, it was too late to call her or head over to her house.
Guess I’ll have to rub one out.
Sitting at my desk, I searched for some hardcore porn, grabbed my bottle of lube and got to work. Since hooking up with Raven, it had been a long time since I had to pleasure myself and I remembered how bad it sucked. After I finished up, I walked over to the fridge, opened a beer and channel surfed until I fell asleep.

My phone blowing up woke me from my sleep. A little hungover, I glanced at the clock next to my bed.
Fuck, 10 AM?
Reaching for my phone, I knocked it off the night stand. It quit ringing, but only temporarily. Feeling around on the floor, I found my phone, looked at the screen and saw it was Raven.

“Hello?” I croaked into the phone.

“Chaos! Oh my God, you have to get down here. Now!”

“Where? What’s going on?”

“Come to my lab.” The phone went dead.

Shit.
Whatever it was, it sounded urgent. I slipped on my pants, hopped on my bike and drove down to her work.

§

“Look at you. Mr. Sin himself.” Matt tipped his hat.

Studying his eyes, I could see the hatred in them. The glacier stare he was darting back at me was returned with a cold stare of my own. I didn’t have shit to say to him. Never did really. When he backed out on the MC, that was the last time I had anything to do with him—when he wasn’t up my ass booking me for some bullshit charges. Silent, I walked right past him. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of answering him. An old man was sitting up front, running the copy machine.

“Can you tell me where to find Raven?”

“Raven?” he sounded confused.

“Raven Harris.”
Fuck me.

“Oh, yes, Raven.” He cocked a half smile as he looked at me, his eyes slightly crossed. “She’s most likely in the lab. Come, I’ll take you to her.” The old guy walked with a limp as I followed behind him with Matt in tow.

“You can’t go back there,” Matt protested.

“Oh, Chaos! I’m glad you’re here.” Raven walked out of the lab. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Know what?
I was afraid to ask because I had a feeling I already knew the answer. Trailing behind Raven, my chest tightened and my whole body tensed as I prepared myself for what I presumed was a body. Matt mumbled something as he followed behind us, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Everything was hazy. Amber was standing on the far side of the room with a clipboard in her hand. Her saddened facial expression wasn’t welcoming.

“He came in this morning. Before I show you—”

“Babe, I’ve seen a lot of shit in my day. Quit pussyfootin’ around. Who’s in the bag?”

“Hm. Tough talk for a tough guy. You used to seeing dead bodies, Troy Atkins?” Matt started taunting me.

“Shut the hell up before I rip you a new asshole!”

“Guys! Chill the fuck out. It’s Skeeter, and he might not look the same as you remember him.”

Watching in magnificent, slow horror, she pulled back the body bag. His spiked red hair was matted in thick clumps of dark, dried blood, his face unrecognizable. Both of his eyes were at least four times their normal size, his nose was completely split in half. I looked at the rest of his face. His lower jaw was barely hanging in place, separated from the rest of his face, most of his teeth were missing—bashed out and broken. Both of his lips were disguised by the loose flesh of his face, completely severed. It looked like someone took a meat cleaver to his face and had a fucking hay day with it. His head slumped in the body bag, his neck broken. She continued unzipping the body bag, he was fully clothed but the prospect patch on his cut had been ripped off. Skeeter was a good kid, loyal to the club and it was my fault that he was laying in that bag on the table. My stomach started to churn while a hard lump in my throat constricted my breathing. The already cold lab seemed chillier than it did a minute ago.

“What the fuck?” I muttered. Raven rested her hand on my shoulder.

“We’re not finished with the autopsy. Actually, we haven’t even started it, but it looks like he was beaten to death. I’ll keep you informed if—”

“I’m staying. I want to be here when you do it.” It was the last thing I could do for him. He was
this
close to becoming a fully patched member, and I got him killed.
Fuck! When Duke finds out the why and what, I’m gonna be a dead man, too.

“I don’t think so big guy. That’d be interfering with an official homicide investigation—one of which you might be our prime suspect. But don’t worry, I’ll keep in close touch with you.” Matt flashed his crooked front tooth smile at me. His eyes had a firm fuck you look in them.

“Me? Why the hell would I be a prime suspect?”

“He’s one of your guys, ain’t he? I mean, that is why she called you down here.”

“So? What’s your goddamned point?”

“Who was the last person to see him?” Matt pressed.

Fuck, it was me.
“How the hell am I supposed to know? The guy’s dead. He’d be the only person who could tell you the last person who saw him was, but I don’t think he’ll be doing much talking.”

“Maybe someone wanted to shut him up. And maybe he knew something about those other bodies. Seems like a plausible reason why you’d want him dead.”

“Come the fuck on! I’d never hurt Skeeter. Nobody from our club would!” My fists were balled, ready and waiting to punch him right in the cock sucker. I didn’t need his shit right now, and he could go straight to hell if he thought me or the club had anything to do with this. While we were busy hashing it out in the lab, Raven interrupted us.

“It’s okay, Chaos. I need a moment with you anyway before we get started on him.” Matt snickered at me with a shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid fucking face as she walked me out of the lab.

“Why are you giving that prick what he wants?”

“Listen, we don’t have much time. He’ll come out here in a few minutes I’m sure, but I have something important to tell you. I don’t want him knowing.”

“What?”

“When I came in this morning, I had a voicemail on my work phone. It was left at almost 2 AM. I couldn’t recognize the voice—even after listening to it a few times, but it was very threatening. I saved it on my phone. Right now, I want you to get out of here before he jumps the gun and throws you in jail for some stupid charge just to be a dick. I’ll call you before I go home so you can hear the message yourself.”

“What did it say?”

“You’ll have to listen to it, but right now you gotta go.”

I hated leaving, but she was right. With Matt on a headhunt for me, it was only a matter of time before he dreamed up some stupid ass reason to put me in the slammer. My club needed me right now, and I had to be the one to break the news to them. Better me than Sergeant Dumb Ass in there. Skeeter deserved that respect. With all the shit he’d been stirring up lately by accusing our club of these homicides, he might end up in a body bag of his own if he showed his face around the MC.

Chapter 11: Raven

With the boys out of my hair, I could finally get down to business. Right after Chaos left, I kicked Matty out of the lab too. Having him stand over me and talk shit about my man wasn’t what I was in the mood for. This murder—Skeeter’s murder—chilled me to the bone. It was a little closer to home than I would’ve liked it to have been.
If they can kill a guy—a prospect—what could they do to me?
I wasn’t like the Lords of Sin. I didn’t carry a gun, let alone know how to shoot one! Yeah, point, aim, shoot, but it’s not that easy. When you’re nervous and shaking like a leaf, nothing is that simple, especially when you’re in a life and death situation.
Poor Skeeter.
He took one hell of a fucking beating before he gave up. The defensive wounds on his hands and arms said that he didn’t have any time to grab his gun. Carefully undressing him, I saw numerous bruises along his abdominal cavity. X-ray confirmed that he hand multiple broken ribs, a cracked sternum and a crushed hyoid bone. Whoever beat the hell out of him stomped on his throat in a last ditch effort to finish him off. He was one tough guy to take an ass beating like that. Continuing with the autopsy, I also noticed that there were ligature marks on his wrists, but I didn’t understand how or why. He wouldn’t have the defensive wounds if his hands were bound, unless they were bound in front of him—which would make no sense, especially with a guy of his size. As big and strong as he was, you’d think his attacker would want to tie his hands behind his back. Rolling him over, I got a clear picture of what I had asked myself only moments ago.