Hidden Heat (Brothers of Mayhem #1) Read online

  At that moment, they turned down a recently paved private road. A bullet-riddled white sign with the words “No Trespassing” in bold red letters stood near the corner.

  “When did Trick finally decide to shell out the money?”

  “He didn’t. A fellow over in Maryville did. His debt came due, and he did that sort of thing for a living. So he paved it to call it even.”

  “He must’ve owed a lot. It’s a good distance to the house.”

  About that time, they came around a sharp curve and she saw a large ranch-style house on a knoll in the middle of a large field. There were a couple of other buildings behind it to the side, along with what looked to be a massive barn. All of it was rather fancy looking, and too isolated to suit her.

  “Are you talking about Trick Savalas?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Hadn’t she been told over and over again, the less she knew, the more she could deny?

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know him?” She’d heard the tales about the crazy Savalas family. They were nothing but trouble, a bunch of petty thieves.

  “He’s our uncle.”

  “You’re a Savalas?”

  “Yeah. Not by choice,” Thorn said in a low voice.

  She kind of understood. Considering he was a Brothers of Mayhem member and a Savalas, he had two strikes against him. Even more of a reason for her to get away from him.

  She wanted to go back home.

  Then she noticed a man standing in the shadows of the house, and another near a gate that divided the long drive. Both were armed with rifles.

  Hell, no. She didn’t want to be here.

  —

  When Thorn had left home nine years ago, he’d never expected to return. Through five years in the army and two with the Birmingham PD, and even the last couple with the Sand County Sheriff’s Office, he’d been satisfied with staying away. Only his brother knew he worked for Birmingham, but even he knew nothing about Thorn moving on to Sand County. Wolf was smart. He probably suspected what Thorn was up to with the Brothers.

  Growing up, he’d always felt out of place in the middle of the wild and lawless Savalas clan. If a neighbor called the police on them, they egged their house. If someone carelessly left their keys in the car, they deserved to have it stolen. If they were caught, they swore up and down they were innocent. Siblings and cousins vouched for them even if they hadn’t been around for months. They thought nothing of sleeping with their best friend’s girlfriend or wife. They weren’t blood or married to blood. You never crossed family.

  The biggest thief, liar, and fornicator of them all was Trick Savalas. Though over fifty, he acted like an irresponsible sixteen-year-old. He was Thorn’s uncle and the patriarch of the Alabama Savalas clan. But Thorn knew for a fact his Georgia relatives were meaner and more dangerous.

  They pulled up in front of the house. The old homestead looked to be freshly painted, white with yellow shutters. The flowerbed actually had several species of various colors in it. He remembered his mom especially liked the little white-and-purple sweet Williams.

  “Why are we here?”

  Thorn glanced over at Cassidy. Her pale face had a sheen.

  “We’re here to get you fixed up without questions, darling.” He pressed the back of his hand on her forehead, testing for fever. “Damn, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s hot. It’s May in the South. I’ve been wandering the woods for over an hour. What do you think?” She shivered, teeth chattering.

  That did it.

  He opened the door and turned back to scoop her up in his arms. She gasped. His fingers met a stickiness. Blood. She was bleeding more than she’d let on. Damn it, it was his fault she got hurt and that he’d then scared her to the point that she ran, injuring herself even more. But he’d been in a bad spot. Back at the Skull and Bones Bar, if he’d remained silent and let Stonewall take his temper out on her, what type of man would he be? Not one he could live with.

  Trick stood in the front doorway. Without asking for permission, Thorn charged through. His uncle was smart enough to get out of the way.

  “What’d you do? Get a little rough? Your daddy liked some of the kinky stuff, so no surprise the apple didn’t fall far from that tree.” Trick followed them toward the guest rooms.

  “The first room on the right still empty?” That was his old room. Wolf had warned him that all of his personal stuff had been thrown out the week after he left all those years ago.

  “Sure. Make yourself at home in my house,” Trick snarled.

  Wolf was right. A solid sleigh bed sat beneath the window, and a chair next to a long dresser across from it. Nothing like the scratched-up twin bed and videogame posters he had in his room all those years ago.

  Thorn was about to place her on the bed, but Cassidy held on to his neck. “No. You’ll get blood all over it. Besides, I’m dirty.”

  “I don’t give a shit. Let me go,” he ordered. When her grip tightened, he added, “I’ll buy a new spread.” On seeing her mutinous stare, he gave in. “Wolf, throw it off the bed.”

  His brother quickly lifted off the comforter and pulled down the white sheets.

  She let go.

  He moved her tee shirt out of the way and untied his bloody tee shirt from her waist. She gave a weak protest and slapped at his hands.

  “Behave,” he snapped. “I need to see what you’ve done.” Damn it. Why was she so hardheaded?

  “Me? I wasn’t the one being shot at,” she snapped back.

  “Are you so sure?” He grinned.

  Her eyes widened at the thought of someone trying to kill her. That quieted her down. She was right. They had been shooting at him, but he wanted her suspicious mind on other things while he examined her side.

  Checking the wound, he exhaled in relief. The bleeding was sluggish, but from the stickiness of her shirt and jeans, the mad dash into the woods in hot weather hadn’t helped. If she’d done as he’d asked and stayed put, the gash would have started scabbing over, instead of tearing further. She needed a stitch or two to help the healing.

  “Wolf!”

  “I’m right behind you. No need to yell.” His brother stood at the footboard, curiosity clearly written on his face.

  “Get me a needle and thread.”

  “Sure. Give me a second.” Wolf headed down the hall.

  “No way will I let you sew me up,” she murmured. Her mutinous glare had Thorn looking away to hide his grin. Her pout was so cute. “I’ll do it myself.”

  Once he hid his amusement, he said, “It’s out of your reach. Unless you want Wolf to do it?” He looked over at her, daring her.

  At that moment, his brother returned and handed a small first-aid kit to Thorn.

  “I’ll do it.” Trick smirked from the doorway. “I’ll gladly help the little lady. Hate to see that pretty, smooth skin all marred up with an asshole’s sloppy needlework.”

  Cassidy pulled back. He expected her to stand her ground, but then the woman’s common sense showed up.

  “Thorn.” She turned her big, brown eyes back to him. “Just clean it up,” she said. “I don’t care if I have a scar. It’ll be fine.”

  “Sorry. You tore it at one end. Probably from pushing off my bike or running over the rough trail. It’ll keep opening and bleeding every time you move. I can fix it with one stitch. You want something for the pain?”

  “Whiskey?” she asked with sarcasm.

  “I’m sure we can find something. Trick loves his shine.”

  “Just had a batch made up the other day. It’ll take paint off a Ford,” Trick said, pride filling each word.

  “No, I was joking. I don’t need anything.” Her voice wobbled.

  “Yeah. You’re as brave as a sinner visiting church for the first time.” Thorn opened several packets. Keeping his face down, he hoped his teasing kept her mind off what he did next. He tilted a plastic bottle over the wound. She jerked as the clear liquid trickled p
ink down her side.

  Cassidy hollered, “What the hell?”

  “I only poured some alcohol on it.” He pushed her back down on the bed and swabbed around the wound with gauze.

  “I know! I didn’t expect it. That burned. Like a lot!”

  “Baby.” He ducked his head for a closer look, grinning. He needed to persuade her to take something for the pain he was about to inflict.

  He threaded the needle, making sure she saw the long, thin piece of sterilized steel. She needed to accept an analgesic to deaden the area. No way could he sew her up if she continued to jerk around.

  She placed her hand on his arm. “Okay, okay. Give me something.”

  “Here. Drink this,” Trick said, and Cassidy drank whatever was in the small glass before Thorn stopped her.

  “What did you give her?” Thorn glared at the older man. He knew how his uncle’s mind worked.

  “Your girlfriend won’t feel a thing in a few seconds. The shit works fast.” Trick’s evil chuckle gave Thorn a hint.

  “Damn it. It better not be what you used on girls in bars.”

  “Don’t worry, nephew. It’s just a tiny bit. Make her feel happy. Don’t let her drink any alcohol with it or it’ll knock her out.” He held up his hands. “Since I’ve taken over the family business, I don’t need it anymore. Chicks are all over this.” He thrust his hips. Then he nodded to the glass. “Don’t worry. It’s good stuff. Nothing wacky. Only homegrown.”

  Thorn wanted to arrest the asshole, but it wasn’t worth blowing an eighteen-month operation. He reined in his temper. “Trick, you give my old lady drugs again, I’ll make you regret breathing.”

  Cassidy jerked next to him. With any luck, she would play along with the old lady remark. He had to find a way to keep Trick away.

  “Old lady, heh? Look at the little queer boy trying to act all tough. I don’t care if you wear an army uniform or the Mayhem colors. You’re a coward. If you’d stayed, your old man would still be alive.”

  Thorn stopped cleaning around the wound and stared coldly at Trick. The man had enough sense to realize he’d pushed a little too hard.

  Ignoring the ache in his chest, and how right Trick was about his dad, Thorn said, “Wolf needs to borrow a few tools to fix my ride.”

  “What did you do to wreck it?” That quickly, he was able to get the older man’s mind off baiting him.

  “It has a bullet hole in the tank.”

  “A little trouble?”

  “Yeah. The Thirty-Second has broken ties with the MC.”

  “I’d heard Stonewall’s moving into their territory. They can be mean sons of bitches.” Trick nodded. “Sure. Come on, Doggie.”

  Wolf sauntered by and spit out a “Thanks a lot, brother,” before following Trick. His brother hated Trick’s needling.

  After a couple of minutes, Thorn finished and looked up. “All done. That should help.”

  Cassidy’s eyes were half-closed, and she wore a funny grin.

  “Whatever he put in the water…Wow!” Her words slurred a little, and she stretched.

  “Hey, be careful. You’ll ruin my work.”

  Her fingers walked up his arm as she pulled him down. “I’ve been trying for years to be a good girl, to be different from my parents. But my mom had one thing right. One percenters are sooo sexy. Come here, big boy.” Her mouth covered his.

  Damn. The kiss zinged straight to his groin. Without realizing he’d done it, he clasped the back of her head and opened wide. A split second later, he climbed over her and pressed her into the mattress.

  Her hands moved around and dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans in the back. She clasped his ass.

  Oh, hell. He should let her go. She was under the influence. A moan of pleasure vibrated deep inside his chest as her tongue swept alongside his. Maybe he’d stop in a minute. He rubbed his groin against hers. She felt so good. So hot. She was a brush fire, and he was kindling.

  He wanted more. He yearned to reach beneath her tee shirt and fondle those sweet, silken breasts. Were her nipples small and pink and perfect for pinching?

  He slid a hand along her unharmed side, loving the feel of such smooth skin.

  Her body softened more until she went limp in his arms. A light snore tickled his ear.

  Damn it to hell. The drug had been too strong. She’d fallen asleep.

  Cupping himself, he shifted his dick to a more comfortable position as he edged off the bed. He stepped away, after carefully arranging her shirt. He wasn’t a pervert like his uncle. Taking an unconscious woman didn’t thrill him.

  That kiss. That was smoking hot.

  What the hell was he thinking? That was just it. He wasn’t thinking with the head on his shoulders. Her falling asleep saved him from fucking up the job big-time. The rules had been drilled into his brain numerous times. No killing, no drugs, and no sex. So far, he hadn’t been tempted to cross any of those lines. That was, not until today.

  He shook his head to clear his mind.

  As quietly as possible, he pulled the chair closer to the bed, rested his heels on the edge of the mattress near her hips, and waited for her to wake. No way would he leave her alone with Trick nearby.

  His gaze rested on her face. She had more freckles than he’d thought. He liked that.

  Forcing his attention away, he concentrated on finding a way out for Cassidy. Keeping her safe was his first order of business, and the clubhouse was not that place.

  He glanced at his hands. They ached from being so tightly clenched. A bad habit and a dead giveaway that he was mad, or the situation bothered him.

  There was one clear, immediate fix for the whole situation with Cassidy, ensuring her safety. He hated it, but his body approved by becoming hard and pulsating. Stupid fucker. He had no choice until another option presented itself.

  Thorn avoided making waves in the MC, and fighting Stonewall about his orders would certainly do that.

  Earlier, Stonewall had made it clear he didn’t believe they had hooked up. That got Thorn to thinking of the one rule in the MC. No one touched or disciplined another member’s old lady.

  He’d have to publicly stake his claim.

  No matter how much she hated it. Being his old lady was her only protection. Only one big problem. He needed her cooperation in one specific area. They would have fake sex. He wasn’t sure how to make it work, but he’d figure it out.

  The newer members like himself were usually surrounded by Brothers, even going as far as fucking their women while others were partying in the same room. They would know if she was truly his old lady. He needed to find a way for her to work with him without telling her the truth. He couldn’t trust anyone with ties to the club. She claimed to hate the Brothers, but would she betray them?

  Stonewall—the stupid limp-dick bastard—had put her in a bad spot.

  She’d have to deal with it. For at least the next two weeks, she’d be attached to his hip until he could set up the bust.

  Chapter 5

  Oddly enough, Cassidy felt great that evening. The twinge in her side occasionally reminded her not to move too quickly, but other than that, the scene she woke up to would have perked up any normal man-loving female.

  Slumped in an upholstered chair, the ceiling light shining on his face, Thorn exhaled and strands of his hair fluttered. As she watched, the cycle continued with each breath. For such a force of nature, it was nice to see him looking human. With his high cheekbones and sensual mouth—oh, my God!

  Had she dreamed it or had it really happened?

  They’d kissed again, but more. Whatever his uncle gave her, it had thrown out all of her self-control.

  She covered her face. Oh, yes, they’d done more.

  Her fingers tingled as she remembered dipping into the back of his jeans and squeezing. His butt had been so firm. Her stomach clenched with desire. She wiggled in shame. Goodness, she tried to be a good girl. She didn’t want to be like Mayhem women who thought nothing of fucking anyt
ime, anyplace, and anyone with the right colors. The patches turned them on.

  Maybe she could ease out of bed before he woke. Would his brother take her back to Mitch’s, or better yet, home?

  “I’m not going to ask what you’re thinking with such a pink face. But whatever you’re planning, stop. We’re going to the clubhouse. I called Stonewall and told him about our run-in with the Thirty-Second gang. If we don’t show up, our lives won’t be worth a shit by morning.” He stood and smoothed back his hair, leaving the faded sides visible again.

  Thorn was a mixture of hell-bent rebel and Old South gentleman. Sure, he’d pushed her around—a lot—since they’d met, but had she ever felt afraid of him? No. Not really.

  “Do you always do what he tells you?” Why had she wasted her breath? She knew the answer.

  “Your brother might be there.” He opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway and motioned for her to come. “No one’s in the bathroom. There’s a clean tee shirt hanging on the rack for you. Go and get ready. We’ll pick up something for dinner. Should take us about thirty minutes to get there.”

  “Who all will be waiting for us?” She untwisted her shirt and pulled at the end, making sure nothing was showing. Then she looked up at Thorn.

  “Just some of the club.” He moved back, cussing beneath his breath as she brushed against him and walked out of the bedroom.

  She grinned. That was interesting. Maybe last night’s kiss had bothered him too.

  Once a pressing personal matter was taken care of, she jumped into the shower for a few minutes. The bathroom was fully equipped with hair care products and thick towels, and even a nice blow dryer. By the time she pulled on the tee shirt that read “Red Hot Mama” and used the paltry amount of makeup in her backpack, she felt like her old self.

  Opening the door, she was relieved to see Thorn leaning against the wall waiting for her. They walked downstairs and through the kitchen, seeing no one, and then out the back door. Nighttime had fallen while she’d gotten ready.