Mayhem: A Reapers MC Boxset Read online

  “Eh, it’s said in a future dystopian style world. There’s constant surveillance by the government and a war. Winston, the main dude in the story works for these fucks named the Ministry of Truth. He pretty much is their fuckin’ bitch, re-writing history to what the government wants it to say. But, he runs into this secret organization who’s tryin’ to destroy the state. Now it’s just startin’ to get interestin’.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s intense. I needed to steal you for a bit, but if you’re in too deep with your book I won’t disturb you.”

  Sighing, I put my bookmark on the page I ended on and set the book on the wooden table in front of me. “You know I’d do anythin’ for you. What’s goin’ on?”

  Sakura is the head bitch in charge of the Bad Bunnies Brothel, a legal brothel we just founded here in Las Vegas. The club just purchased a plot of land about five miles off the interstate. It’s gated and pretty fuckin’ luxurious. We’re not quite finished with renovations, though. That’ll take another month or two, but we’re about half-way done. Because of it some of the girls can still get some work done. Sakura did mention she’s havin’ a couple of the ol’ ladies here help her manage the joint. I think she mentioned somethin’ about Raven and . . . Tania? Fuck if I can remember. I’ll have to ask her again later.

  “The sign guy just called me and said we can come pick it up. I was hoping you’d drive us out there and could put it in the back of your truck . . . and then help me install it?” I break out into laughter at that. Sakura doesn’t want me to help her install it. She wants me to be the fuckin’ muscle for this shit. Whatever. I’ll do it.

  Nodding, I rise from the wooden chair. “Yeah, let’s go grab my keys.”

  The two of us walk over to the clubhouse door and I pick up the keys to my Dodge Ram and hold the door for Sakura. She walks out first and we both get in my truck and I start drivin’ down the dirt lane. “Alright, where we goin’?”

  Sakura gives me instructions and we’re only headed about ten miles south of here. With any luck, her sign won’t weigh a shit ton. Then again, I don’t think I’m too bright thinkin’ this job will be easy. Sakura always saves the heavy shit for me. I fuckin’ hate how she never asks her ol’ man to do this shit. But she’s probably afraid the hard work will crush his small figure.

  I might be a bit of a speed demon, so we get to her sign dude within eleven minutes. He has this two-bay garage sort of shop where he makes ‘em and is wipin’ down some deep purple shit. Sakura eagerly jumps out of the truck before I even put it in park. Damn, this girl has a death wish.

  I follow her lead and get out of the truck, but she’s gonna get an earful from me. “Sakura, don’t you ever fuckin’ do that shit again. Mouser will shoot me in the dick if you ever got hurt on my watch.”

  Sakura turns back to me, rolls her eyes and huffs. “What is with you men always having to be so dramatic?”

  “Fuckin’ adorable you think I’m kiddin’. It’s not dramatic, sweetie pie. It’s what he’ll fuckin’ do, if not worse. Hell, didn’t you hear about what Reed did to Pain in the Skulls Renegade MC? He was watchin’ his sister-in-law and she got taken. He didn’t let the guy patch in for years.”

  “What? Oh my word. Did they ever find her?”

  “Who?”

  “The woman . . . the missing one.”

  “Oh yeah, Daisy’s fine now. She’s got like seven kids or somethin’.”

  Sakura crosses her arms and cocks a brow, “Seven?”

  “I dunno. Why is it my job to keep track of that shit? She’s turned into one of those domestic bitches, but damn, she’s fuckin’ crazy. That bitch would chop off a fucker’s hand without even battin’ an eye.”

  Sakura let’s out a laugh, “Sounds like she and I would be good friends.”

  Fuck. She’s probably right. “Nah, you’d hate her guts.” I say. There’s no way in the world we’d need those two bein’ friends. Fuck, we’d be doomed.

  “Uh . . . you’re part of that biker gang?” The guy in the garage bay asks, lookin’ scared shitless. Immediately I shift my gaze over to him. He’s a scrawny fuck, maybe twenty or so and he’s practically shakin’ in his boots.

  “Yeah, you got a problem with that?” I ask, stalking toward him, puffin’ out my chest a bit for show. Fuck, he could shit himself right here and I wouldn’t even bitch about doin’ all this work. It’d make it all worth it.

  “Um . . . uh . . .”

  “Listen buddy, you better choose your answer wisely. We could be your best friend or your worst enemy. So, if you got a problem that Sakura is with us, I suggest you close down shop and get the fuck outta here. If you wanna be friends, gimme your business card and I’ll try to strum up some business for ya. Times are hard these days, yeah?”

  His eyes widen and I’m just waitin’ for him to piss himself. “Dix, how about you get my sign and put it in the bed of your truck?” Dammit. There Sakura goes and has to ruin my fun.

  I go up to the sign and stare in awe of it. This dude does a great job. Bad Bunnies Brothel is in a black font, but there’s some sort of light behind the letters. I’m guessin’ that’s so it’ll light up at nighttime. The background is a dark and light purple mixture, but over the ‘o’ is a pair of bunny ears. Meanwhile, there are two silhouettes of women on each side. “Sick shit, bro.” I applaud him before I lift the sign I think isn’t heavy. I about fall right on my ass but somehow manage to get it in my truck and secure it. At least I know it won’t get damaged.

  “I’m so sorry about him,” I hear Sakura sayin’ as I round the truck.

  “There ain’t anything to be apologizin’ about, Sakura. Your friend here does some sick shit. You ship your signs?”

  Still seemin’ nervous he nods, “Y-yeah, I do. It’s c-complicated but I d-do.”

  “Fuck, I’m gonna give your information to my friends. Biker gangs as you call them have bars and shit like that, some flashy sign like this . . . it could really help with our businesses. What’s your name, friend?”

  “I’m— I’m Corey.”

  “Alright, Corey. I hope you’re prepared to get busy as fuck.” I say with a smirk, but Sakura grabs my hand, says her goodbyes and leads me back to the truck. We both get in and buckle up. I pull out of his parkin’ lot and start up the highway to the brothel when she finally speaks again.

  “You went from scaring the guy shitless to offering him endless work. I will never understand you men.” She shakes her head, looking out the passenger side window and I see her cover her mouth, tryin’ to hide a giggle.

  Sakura has still yet to figure out we’re the nicest guys as long as you don’t fuck with three things. Our club, women, or kids.

  Chapter Two

  The funniest things about kids is this. They’re the reason we lose it, and the reason we hold it together.

  ~ Digital Parenting

  Indra

  “It’s hard to believe our little Jalen is two!” My mother beams as she chases him around my living room. In reality Jalen is about two and a half, but my parents couldn’t be here to celebrate with us because they both caught pneumonia.

  He’s the spitting image of his father from his deep coffee colored skin, to the almond and chocolate mixture eyes. When I first met Cornell, I thought he had hazel eyes. I remember running back to my parents thinking it was the coolest thing in the world. Never had I ever seen another person with my color skin have hazel eyes.

  It was such an interesting day. I remember it specifically because it was the first time I ever heard of the term bi-racial. I don’t think I ever understood it back then, but as time went on I grasped what they were telling me. Not only was it a brief genetics lesson of sorts, but it was also a way to explain how many people may not look like us. My parents were amazing at explaining the way those with my complexion may have differences. They could have blue eyes, or brown just like me. Their hair could be curly like mine, or straight like other children.

  When I was four we lived in a more remote locat
ion so I was the only black kid in my neighborhood, but when we moved closer to the city I was exposed to many other types of people.

  Cornell was indeed bi-racial. His father is Caucasian and his mother is a Kenyan immigrant. They both see our little Jalen as much as they can. Honestly, I think he gave the three of us a reason to keep living after losing Cornell.

  The night of the accident I found out I was pregnant when they did a routine blood panel. I was in shock at the time, but I took it as a sign from God that I had reason to keep pushing forward. And what a reason Jalen has been.

  “The time sure does fly by,” I reply, smiling at my giggling little boy. My mother is in her late fifties and can barely keep up with him. I only wonder how she’ll keep up with him as he grows.

  “Speaking of that, you’re going to need more help as Jalen gets older.” My father states so matter-of-factly. He’s been pushing me to move back to Phoenix for ages. Every two months or so they come out here to visit us, or vice versa.

  When Cornell passed, I had to completely re-evaluate my life. I realized how precious every moment is and I decided on a whim to quit my job and move to Las Vegas. I’d talked about moving there with my husband for years, but neither of us wanted to leave the comfort of home. It was a dream of ours, but one we’d never taken the leap toward.

  I was able to secure a job at a jewelry store before I even moved, and I also found a place to start up yoga classes. I’d been a novice yogi for years, but I wanted to get even more into it. Little by little, my life formed together in this new city. I met new people at my job, the herbal tea shop I frequent every day, and most importantly at the yoga studio as well.

  “Dad, I love how you want to help me . . . but I’m okay. I have a support network here. Jalen and I are okay.” Thankfully, everything fell into place after my son was born. Tia, who owns the yoga studio told me I had a natural talent to teach beginners classes. She gave me an opportunity. If I taught classes three times a week, she’d let Jalen be part of the childcare program, even if I had a shift at the jewelry store. It didn’t matter. He was always welcome. So, Tia and everyone at the studio became a second family of sorts.

  “No one can help you like family, Indra.” He states, his thick Jamaican accent slipping out. He’s gotten so good at covering it up. The only time it does is when he’s upset. My father is a partner in a law firm and told me an intense story when I was thirteen. It was the story of when he immigrated here to the United States and had just graduated law school, already passed the bar and had been interning at numerous law firms over the summers he was in school. He was offered a position at his dream firm and one of the partners called him up to his office. The meeting was strictly about how his accent was unprofessional. This was in the early seventies, before the anti-discrimination law of 1972 was passed. By the time the law passed, my father had already gotten used to covering it up.

  He ended up meeting my mom at the firm. A few years had passed and a ten-year age gap is between the two of them. She was a paralegal and well, anyone could put the pieces together. “Dad, can you please drop it? We’re not moving. I know you don’t like that I’m so far away but we’ve discussed this. When you make the decision to take a step back and retire, you and mom can move here if you like.”

  “Oh, we can, can we? Pfft. What about William and Deja?” Here he goes guilting me with Cornell’s parents.

  “Dad. Please stop. They know how this is the best for Jalen and I.”

  “I don’t see how this is best, being away from your family . . .” He grumbles, still putting up a fight.

  “Sweetheart, please let it go. Indra is an adult and she has the right to make these choices, even if we wish they were different.” I thank God every day my mom sticks up for me.

  “Birfday cake?” I didn’t realize until now Jalen stopped running around and is witnessing the tension between the adults in the room. He seems nervous, yet it’s obvious he wants his cake now.

  “Does my little man wanna smush some cake with his fingers?!” I ask him excitedly.

  He nods his head numerous times, runs up to me and takes my hand. I look to both of my parents. “Alright, how about we go sing a song to the birthday boy, eat some cake and then . . .”

  “Oh my, what could be after that?” My mother asks, walking up and pinching Jalen’s cheeks.

  “Prezzies!” He hollers.

  My mother and I both laugh while my father still seems upset. I know this is hard for him but being in Phoenix is hard for me. It just passed the third anniversary of Cornell’s death and the mere thought of living in Phoenix again causes a lump to form in my throat. My anxiety swarms over me. Being there is too much, and the thought of being there without him by my side still breaks my heart.

  This is my life now and my father will have to understand. If I go back there, Jalen will have lost both of his parents. I’ll be breathing, but I surely won’t be living.

  Chapter Three

  A big part of who I am, is who I’m not

  ~ Poetic Garb

  Dixon

  Sakura’s been making a decent bit of headway over at Bad Bunnies Brothel. I installed the sign for her and if I do say so myself, it looks damn good. She gave me a tour of the property and half of the rooms are completed, as well as the saloon area which is a fancy ass name for bar.

  The brothel girls can’t start working for about another month, which will put them after Labor Day most likely. Sakura said if the construction crew gets finished with the work ahead of time, we can move the clientele over to the brothel but in the meantime, we have to do things the way they’ve been done for a while.

  After one long day getting roped into helping Sakura with all her side projects, I finally walk into my trailer. I used to split this with Hawk, but once he brought Raven down here and we were told about how her little sisters would be coming with them we figured something out quickly. We couldn’t cram five people into this two-bedroom trailer. So, they have their own house on the property.

  Damon and Amara recently just got approval from Zane to build two more houses on the property, and to expand our clubhouse. I don’t know what we’ll do with the structure we’re using as the clubhouse now . . . maybe turn it into an inside kid thing? Everyone here is practically poppin’ them out so, it would make sense.

  The new clubhouse will have a series of rooms on the second level. Damon had mentioned how we might even be on the lookout for some prospects soon. We’re lookin’ to grow the club. It’s about damn time if you ask me.

  Sittin’ back against my comfortable couch, I shut my eyes and finally take a breather. I must be layin’ here in the peace and quiet for maybe two minutes when my door makes a clicking sound. Out of instinct I grab ahold of my Glock on the couch next to me, point it at whoever has the nerve to waltz right in here and open my eyes. Dammit, it’s Hawk and Sakura. I lower my gun and slide it back into my holster.

  “What the fuck? I’ve been your bitch all day. You can’t give me the night off?”

  Sakura laughs, makes her way next to me and takes a seat. “Nope, because I have been successful in my endeavor Dix’.”

  I know exactly what she’s referring to. Sakura has been determined to find the right woman to set me up on a blind date with. I’m not one of those pathetic fuckers who can’t find a woman. My issue is I can’t find a good woman. Seein’ all my brothers poppin’ out kids and settlin’ down makes me want to as well.

  I’ve never been the type who had a normal family life though, so I’d be lyin’ if I said it didn’t scare the shit outta me. Probably the reason I’ve been fuckin’ around with women most of my life. I was the type of brother in the MC who’d be with a clubwhore every night. I love the company, but don’t want the problems that come along with it.

  My dad has been in prison most of his life, and my mom . . . well, fuck. I don’t remember much about her to be honest. I remember havin’ a mom, but, when I was around nine the state took me and my little sister away from he
r. My sister, Abbey, and I didn’t have the same father. So, her paternal grandmother took her in. Meanwhile, I had no one. I jumped from foster home to foster home until one night when I ran as fast as I could. Eventually I ended up meetin’ Fist and he brought me into the club as a prospect.

  Fuck, I remember the way he sat me down at that bar in Billings and told me he knew I was trouble. I had two options, I could high tail it out of town and stir shit up somewhere else. Or, I could take a ride with him to his club and see if it might be a good fit for me. He was the first person to show me kindness in a hell of a long time and I’ll never forget how he changed my life that day. I still find it hard to believe he’s dead. A man who truly didn’t deserve death. He was one of the good ones.

  “What’s her name?” I ask, figurin’ at least Sakura will let me know that small detail.

  “I’m not telling you anything about her, besides the fact she’s a sweet woman, mature and is gorgeous.” Sakura smiles brightly, telling me she’s convinced herself of everything she’s said. I only hope it’s true.

  Up until a few weeks back I had a type. Most men know the type, they’re one thing— slutty. Sakura and I had a conversation about what I’m looking for and since then she’s made me stay abstinent. I can’t fuckin’ have sex and it’s pissin’ me off so bad. Deep down I know it’ll be better in the end. Or, well, or I could rip this poor woman Sakura’s setting me up with and terrify her. Whenever I do fuck her, I could scare her half to death with how intense I can get.

  One clubwhore called me a beast and ran out on me. Up at Billings they had a nickname for me, the Bear. Still makes me chuckle to this day.

  “You won’t tell me anything?” I question, trying to see if there’s any wiggle room.

  “She’s not tellin’ you shit, brother.” Hawk speaks up. I notice the door is wide open behind him.