Hell on Wheels (Kings of Mayhem MC 4)

And that was how it went for days.

We cocooned ourselves in his cabin. Nestled amongst the trees and the sparkling water of the river. Spring was here, and it was all around us in the greenness of the riverbank and the blueness of the sky. Birds sang of promise, cicadas chirped in the pale warmth of a March sunshine, and the air was warm with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the marijuana plants that dotted the riverbank.

Neither of us knew what was happening. Only that time had stopped as we lost ourselves in the comfort and ecstasy of each other’s bodies.

We didn’t speak about our feelings. Didn’t talk about what was happening. Didn’t make plans. Because despite the euphoric bliss of our lovemaking, we were both realists and we still wondered if this was something that could ever last. We were too broken. Too jaded by our past. And too frightened of our future.

But it was a break from the darkness.

A break neither of us were in a hurry for it to end.

When I had to work, we rode into town on Chance’s bike, and he would kiss me passionately as we parted, his lips and tongue speaking promises of what was to come when I returned home. When my shifts finished, he would be waiting for me, casually leaning up against his motorcycle and looking so damn hot it was inevitable I would tear his clothes off as soon as we stepped into the cabin.

Nights were spent in bliss. Early morning hours spent in ecstasy as he woke me up with his commanding hands, luscious tongue, and hard body.

But like they say, all good things must come to an end.

And it’s true.

Our happiness was short lived.

Because that’s when the body washed up.

CHANCE

A jogger found her. Half submerged on the sandy riverbank, nude except for a sock on her left foot.

She had been shot in the head.

Her name was Vander Quinn, and she was the wife of our town mayor.

By mid-morning the riverbank was crawling with law enforcement.

By lunchtime, I was sitting in our clubhouse with Bull, Cade, and Ruger, across from Mayor Quinn and his assistant. Quinn looked distraught.

“On behalf of the club, I’d like to offer you our condolences for the loss of your wife,” Bull said, giving him a sharp nod of his head. He knew the pain of losing the woman you loved. For seventeen years it had kept him from having anything serious with another woman. But while he was empathetic toward our mayor, it didn’t stop him from being suspicious. “What I don’t understand is why you would ask the Kings for help.”

Within hours of his wife’s body being discovered, Quinn had reached out to Bull and asked for a meeting.

“I want to find out who did this, and I want them to pay,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s to be expected, but you have the sheriff’s department and the state troopers all over this.”

Quinn leaned forward to rest an arm on the table. “Everybody in this town knows that if you want something done, you reach out to the Kings. I want who did this. And I don’t want to wait.”

“Buckman is a good sheriff.”

Quinn cocked an eyebrow at Bull. “Come on, he’s so corrupt he’d sell his own grandmother’s soul for the right price. Don’t think for a second I don’t know about the things he does for your club.”

Bull’s expression didn’t waver. “He’s a good investigator.”

“That may be the case, Bull, but I want the person responsible for this to be found and dealt with in the most appropriate manner.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I want it dealt with outside of the law. Going to prison would be too good for the son of a bitch. I want him cold and stiff in the ground.”

His words crackled in the air like electricity.

“We’re not murderers for hire, Quinn,” Bull finally said.

“Oh, I don’t expect you to murder anyone. I just want you to find him and leave the rest to me.”

Bull’s eyebrows rose above his sunglasses, but he said nothing. Quinn nodded to his assistant who pulled out a thick yellow envelope from of his briefcase and slid it across the table.

“There’s twenty thousand. You’ll get another twenty thousand when you deliver whomever was responsible to me.”

I leaned forward and looked inside the envelope. Sure enough it was fat with cash. Bull turned his head in my direction, and I nodded, letting him know it was full of money. He gestured for me to give it back.

“I’ll say it again. We aren’t murderers for hire, but we’ll find out what piece of shit came into our town and murdered one of our own.” He rose to his feet. He was tall and formidable, and the dark sunglasses added more intimidation to his already imposing figure. “And I’ll trust that this act of loyalty will be remembered by our prestigious mayor in the future. Do we understand one another?”