Hidden Heat (Brothers of Mayhem #1) Page 3

  “Thorn, you too.” Her long blonde hair, in a braid to her waist, swung over her shoulder as she turned and waved for them to follow. Without looking back, she shouted, “I can’t wait until Mitch sees you.”

  Unsure if he needed to be prepared to hit the ground running, he glanced over to Cassidy, intending to ask. Her pale face warned he might be right. So he steeled himself for the prejudice he’d received more than once for his clothes, tattoos, and hair.

  As he walked up the steps, he looked over the house. It was likely built in the seventies, with its towering, peaked glass front and faux river-rock exterior. The front door led straight into what was called a great room, with a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace on the opposite wall.

  The smell of seasoned roast and onions filled the air. Memories of his parents’ house slammed into his senses—certainly a place he’d never return to again.

  He regretted his insistence on following her.

  —

  Cassidy forced her feet to follow the man who had so far shown her a lot more kindness than she ever expected from his type. She’d even whispered to Janet, “He’s a good guy,” in the hope that her foster mother wouldn’t be upset upon realizing he was a Brother. On the other side of the same coin, she hated not warning him to watch his step inside.

  She wiped her palms on her hips. Why hadn’t she thought this out a little more? Mitch was going to be so angry. He’d never let her borrow the money now. A firm believer in tough love, he’d gone a little too far to make a point on occasion.

  Coming into their household at barely fourteen, she’d been angry, rebellious and oh so resentful. No surprise considering her age and the circumstances. She often wondered why they hadn’t sent her back to social services. She figured her being Mitch’s best friend’s daughter helped.

  Mitch had been VP at the time of her dad’s arrest, and not long after the trial, he’d wrecked on his bike. It had changed the man. A few months later, he’d resigned his position and avoided the club.

  At twenty-one, she was quite aware her and Mitch’s strained relationship was her doing. Though rough around the edges, he’d been stern but never cruel. He was big and intimidating, yet he treated his wife like a queen. In turn, she treated him as a pampered king. It could get sickening, what with all of the kissing and touching and long looks. As Cassidy became older, her perspective changed, to seeing it as sweet and encouraging. But she’d never tell him that. Maybe she could find a man who thought she was someone special. Problem was, she wasn’t. So what were her chances?

  “He’s in his den.” Janet pointed to the left, through the kitchen. “He’s been waiting to hear from you about Storm.”

  Feeling sixteen again, like the time she’d been caught sneaking out of her bedroom window, Cassidy hesitated outside the wide door. Inside she heard the TV blaring one of his favorite shows, about Alaska. The man was obsessed with the state.

  “Maybe I should wait until his show goes off.” Could they see the large yellow streak running down her back?

  “Sweetheart, he’s watched that episode at least three times this month. Go on in.” Janet’s sympathetic, lopsided grin helped Cassidy inch forward.

  Thorn stepped up and turned the knob, giving her the courage to go in. She wanted to tell him there was no need to stay, but deep inside, she wanted him by her side. Again, what was it about the man that made her trust him? She’d seen the enjoyment he’d gotten from slapping her butt. With that thought, her rear tingled. When had she started to like being manhandled? A glance at his narrow, masculine lips and her skin heated. They were misleading. She knew they were soft and perfect for kissing. Determined to keep her mind on the problem, she quickly reached for the doorknob.

  Mitch sat front and center before the TV, his usual spot.

  “It’s about time you showed up.” He pressed the control on his wheelchair and turned to face her and Thorn. “What the hell?” His eyes gleamed with animosity at Thorn.

  “Now, Mitch, don’t act that way. He helped me.”

  “What did I tell you about messing around with bikers?” He eyed the patches with what looked like distaste. His hand dropped to rest on the gun he customarily kept on his lap. “I especially told you to stay away from the Brothers of Mayhem.”

  “It’s not what it looks like!” Really, she tried to hold her temper in, but cripple or not, he pissed her off regularly with his attitude, never giving her a chance to explain anything.

  She turned to leave, shoving Thorn out of the way, but his hand shot out and grabbed her elbow.

  He leaned over to her ear and in a low voice said, “He appears to be worried about you and your brother. My dad would shout and cuss whenever one of us boys got in trouble or came in late. But it was always in frustration and worry.”

  “Quit whispering, you rude, ignorant bastard!” Mitch’s wheelchair moved closer.

  “Sorry, sir. But Cassidy got into a little trouble, and she needs to ask you a favor.”

  “No. He’ll tell me to go to hell.” She shot her foster father a glare. “And take your hand off that pistol. You’re the one being rude.”

  “What trouble?” Mitch’s voice softened, concern slipping into his eyes.

  “It’s nothing really. I went into the Skull and Bones Bar—”

  “You did what?” His temper flared again.

  “To find out where Storm’s at. He’s working for them.” What had he expected her to do? Stand outside and wring her hands in despair like a damsel in distress?

  Mitch rubbed his forehead. “You kids are going to kill me.” Then he chuckled and rested his hand on the armrests. “Hell, I have to say, teenagers today listen about as good as I did back in the day.”

  “I’m not a teenager any longer.” Why did she bother reminding him of that?

  He glanced over to Thorn. “What part did you play in this?”

  “Bystander, mostly.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mitch gave Thorn a speculative stare. “Why do I believe there’s more to the story?”

  “He helped me when my car wouldn’t crank,” Cassidy said at the same time Thorn offered, “I’m taking her to get a new battery.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mitch looked them over. She hated it when he did that. She always felt like she didn’t measure up. He asked, “How much money do you need?”

  The question was so unexpected, she hesitated long enough that Thorn answered. Mitch’s eyes narrowed as if he suspected the amount stated.

  “Janet!” Without another word, Mitch rolled into the kitchen. “Get the money out of the box and give it to the girl.”

  A little dazed by Mitch’s quick turnabout, Cassidy stood staring at Thorn. How did he not quake? Mitch sat in a wheelchair, but everyone was afraid of him.

  —

  Thorn had no idea what she expected of him. He remained quiet and waited. She huffed and turned her back, staring at the open doorway as if she couldn’t make up her mind to follow or not.

  Taking the few minutes they were left alone, he worked through what he knew about Mitch “Speed” Crane. With the loss of the use of his legs, he was replaced in the club by Stonewall. He’d changed a lot since he was the prez of the Brothers of Mayhem MC, three years earlier. He was one of the Original Six that started the club, and the second Skull to lead the club. Stonewall was number three.

  Thorn had no idea that Crane was Cassidy’s foster father. The report had only said he’d taken in the two kids of another Brother. Whoever left off the kids’ names should be shot. He’d thought they were probably elementary-school age.

  When Thorn had decided to join the Brothers, he’d done what a lot of people do when applying for a job. Read everything he could find on the Internet, besides the reports provided by the sheriff’s office. Someone had tried to kill Mitch. His bike had been tampered with and he’d wrecked, damaging his spinal cord. Riding a bike or even a trike—a three-wheeled cycle—caused him too much pain, and he’d been forced to give up the lifestyle and the position to
his vice president, Stonewall.

  During the eighteen months Thorn had been with the club, he’d never seen Mitch at a meeting. Members rarely ever retired. And there had to be a mighty good reason for his hatred of the club he’d helped to create. Whatever it was, Thorn was certain he’d stepped into something that he’d regret big-time later.

  He also knew that Cassidy’s father had been president before Mitch. Presently, he was serving time for killing his wife, Cassidy’s mom. Two former club presidents and one current all had connections to the woman standing next to him.

  At least it explained why Stonewall had ignored Cassidy’s violence earlier.

  She was club royalty, if there was such a thing.

  Chapter 3

  “You got to be kidding me!” Cassidy turned around in the middle of the parking lot, holding a freaking heavy car battery, her mouth wide open. Her old sedan was nowhere in sight.

  She’d juggled the battery on the gas tank with Thorn’s help to come back to a stolen car?

  She heard Thorn chuckling as he leaned on his bike.

  “What’s so funny?” The desire to bop him had her squeezing the battery tight to her body.

  He held up his hands and shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone bothering to steal your piece of shit. Most likely Stonewall had it hauled off to the nearest scrap yard for spite, or in payment for all those glasses you broke.”

  Before she thought better of it, her feet marched toward the bar’s entrance. She came to the door and looked at the pull handle. Juggling her load, she tried to reach it with one finger. She refused to ask Thorn for help. Before she dropped her cumbersome load, a young biker strolled out. His eyebrows rose in question, but he held the door open.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Thorn shouted as he loped up behind her. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  She tossed a glare over her shoulder as she walked in. Whatever she did next was none of his business.

  Winding her way around the tables, she felt Thorn coming closer. He grabbed for her. She jerked her arm out of reach and picked up speed. A couple of the old ladies sitting nearby giggled and pointed. She ignored them and squinted in the dim lighting, ignoring the biker on her heels. Stonewall sat in his usual place at the far corner.

  “Stonewall, where’s my car?” She had enough sense to keep her tone civil. Mitch’s protection only reached so far.

  “You have a problem losing things.” The sneer on the man’s face never changed. Even when he was happy, he appeared to mock the concept. He stretched out an arm around the shoulder of the blonde sitting next to him.

  “Your bar, your club, your parking lot. Everyone knows you control it all. Nothing happens without your approval.”

  “Good. I’m glad you understand that. When you came in earlier, smashing my glasses, calling us liars, I wondered if someone had sold it to you.” His gaze pierced hers as he waited for her to apologize.

  Alarm tightened her stomach. Did he think she was stupid? If she said she was sorry, she’d be doing it every time she saw him. The man had intimidation down to an art.

  “I need my car to find my brother.” The battery thumped onto the table. She had to let it go before it broke her arms and landed on a foot.

  “Then it appears you do have a problem. For you have neither.” He nodded toward his VP. Mac picked up the battery and walked off.

  “That’s mine!” She started to chase after him when Thorn grabbed her upper arms and pulled her backward against his chest.

  “Be careful,” he whispered in her ear and then his tongue traced the edge to the lobe. He nipped at it. Chills shot down to her nipples, stiffening them to points of need. The shiver continued at warp speed straight to her clit.

  She understood he was trying to help her save herself, but being aroused there, at that moment, wasn’t cool.

  “Quit!” She tried to move away. The man was a distraction she didn’t want. Her elbow shot back and hit him in the ribs. He grunted but tightened his hold.

  “She needs taming, heh, Thorn?” Stonewall laughed and turned his attention to the blonde, plainly not wanting to waste any more time on her.

  “My brother! Where did you send him off to?”

  She struggled to keep her attention on the man across the table. Feeling the heat from Thorn’s body wrap around her, she inhaled deeply. She smelled hard-riding male, leather, gasoline, and clean sweat, as he refused to release his hold. Embarrassed by the thought of how much she wanted to place his hands over her breasts and relieve the ache, she repeated in her mind, find Storm, find Storm…

  Stonewall’s gaze slowly lifted to the man behind her. “Thorn, if you don’t get your little back warmer out of my face, I’ll have someone else with balls do it.”

  How dare him ignore her as if she didn’t matter?

  “No! You tell me where’s my brother, you ugly-ass bastard!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she’d screwed up. Her temper had really done it. Stonewall stood and flipped the table.

  “Take her to the clubhouse and wait for me. You need to teach her some respect. I will make sure you do. Do you understand me? When you’re finished, I want her on her knees, telling me how sorry she is. Got it?” His voice shook the walls. The music stopped playing and everyone stared in horror. “And don’t give me that bullshit about you two being fuck buddies. If you’re going to feed me that shit, it better be fact, and I’ll make sure it is when I see it. A woman must be taught her place in bed. On her back and legs spread.”

  She was shocked by Stonewall’s words, and her head pressed into Thorn’s chest. He tightened his hold. Deep inside, she trusted Thorn not to do anything she didn’t want, but having the Skull of the club demand her ask for forgiveness on her knees didn’t leave Thorn a lot of room to say no. Her legs shook and her stomach churned. Afraid she’d be sick and make the situation worse, she tugged at his hands, signaling she wanted to leave.

  “Sure thing,” Thorn said in a cold voice to Stonewall. He twisted her arm behind her back and frog-marched her out of the bar.

  She screamed and cussed the whole way. How dare he treat her like that? Stonewall was a bad enough threat, but Thorn’s mistreatment hurt her feelings more than his grasp hurt her arm.

  When they cleared most of the people milling around in the parking lot, he released his hold by pushing her the last few steps to his bike.

  His temper showed with each word spoken between clenched teeth. “You’re not bright at all. Mitch’s rep can only protect you so far. You didn’t need to bait Stonewall. He’s a mean son of a bitch.”

  Frustrated, and stung by his manhandling, she placed her hands on hips and glared.

  “Oh, yeah, you’re real smart.” Her sarcastic tone was obvious. “You’re wearing his club’s patches. That tells me how stupid you are.”

  “I’m trying my best to keep you alive. These people will slice you open, set you on fire, and piss on you without shedding a tear if you keep talking like that to not only their prez, but the Skull too.”

  She frowned. “You say ‘these people’ and ‘their prez’ like you’re not one of them.”

  His confused look slowly cleared, though his face appeared pale in the dimming light. “We’re talking about you.” His shoulders heaved as if he had come to a decision. “Unless you’re willing to walk back in there and apologize on your knees, you have to go with me.”

  “No. And that’s hell no.” She crossed her arms. That was when she noticed the bruise on her arm. “You hurt me.” She poked at the bluish mark. “Ouch!”

  “Sorry.” His face hardened under his stubble. “You have to understand. I’ve saved your ass from a world of hurt twice today. You’ve got to start listening to me. How you ever survived this long is beyond me.” He handed her the helmet. “Put it on.”

  “I’m not going with you.”

  “Cassidy, you don’t have a choice. Your little temper tantrum has forced us into a predicament. We need to deal with it. I’
ll do what I can to protect you. If you’ll listen to me and do what I say.” He grabbed her hair and pulled back so she would look at him. “I’m serious. You need to do everything I say. I won’t be responsible for what happens if you don’t. Understood?”

  She nodded. The look he gave scared her. Not that he would truly hurt her, but he’d let her see how worried he was about her.

  He strapped on his helmet and stopped to stare at her. “There’s a guy who stays at the clubhouse through the week. I’ve seen him being friendly with your brother. He might know where he’s at.”

  “You’re just saying that to make sure I don’t fight you.” She was well aware of the clubhouse’s rep. It was the Brothers of Mayhem’s headquarters. Wild sex parties were the norm. She dreaded being surrounded by them even more than she was at the bar.

  “That would be a change. You’ll have to believe me. I didn’t think of it until Stonewall mentioned the clubhouse.”

  Anything with the motorcycle club was dangerous, but throw in an unprotected female and then anything goes. She didn’t want to go there.

  The things she did for her brother. He’d better appreciate it.

  She straddled the seat, planted her feet on the buddy pegs and curled her arms around the solid torso of a man who could make her forget the vest he wore. Her thighs clutched his hips and she rested her chest against his back. Hopefully, he thought the trembling was from the bike.

  —

  Damn.

  Thorn’s eyes half-closed with pleasure. Having her breasts pressed to his back shot heat straight to his dick. He did not need this again.

  Keep your mind on business, dumb-ass.

  With Stonewall calling him out on his lie about Cassidy being his woman, he needed to be careful and not fuck up. His balancing act required him to protect her and still stay in the club’s good graces.