Sons of Mayhem 2 Chaser (Sons of Mayhem Novels, #2) by Nikki Pink Read Free Book Online Page B

uncertain future.
    The clubhouse was more lively when we returned. There were more motorcycles parked outside as well as a couple of pickup trucks. A couple of girls who looked to still be in their teens were leaning against a truck sharing a cigarette. I saw them eye Bottle as we headed toward the double door entrance, their lascivious desire easy to read as they pushed out their chests and showed off their legs as he passed.
    I trailed just behind Bottle, and one of the girls caught my eye. She gave me an unimpressed look and blew a stream of smoke my way, obviously annoyed to see me, a new face, trailing behind ‘their’ man.
    “Come see me later, girls,” I heard Twist say behind me as I entered. I didn’t hear their answer but I could sense their derision even from where I was. I knew why - they wanted fully patched members of the club, not hangabouts or prospects.
    Bottle, Gauge, T-Bone and I sat down at a table for four while Twist hovered over us.
    “Twist. Four beers. Crazy-eyes, give us a description or something to work with. We’ll put the word out. Then you can tell us about him in detail.”
    Crazy-eyes huh? He was probably right, I barely recognized myself in the mirror any more. As I had turned from a girl to an adult I’d found the person I saw in the mirror less and less recognizable. As my situation became less stable and my behavior more erratic I’d avoided looking into mirrors, avoiding my eyes when I was forced to use a reflection to apply makeup to my stranger’s face.
    It was time to get down to business. “His name is Dewey Roland Finklestein—”
    I was interrupted by laughter.
    “For reals?” asked Bottle.
    I nodded. “I know, he sounds like a dork...”
    More laughter. “We’re supposed to take him seriously, with a name like that?” asked T-Bone.
    I nodded again, a little exasparated. He was dangerous , no matter how dorky his name. “Do you want me to finish or not?”
    In a low voice Gauge said, “Let her finish.”
    The laughter subsided.
    “He’s twenty-eight years old. Sandy blond hair, in a side parting. He’s fit. Really fit. He runs and lifts weights, he used to wrestle. He’s not massive like a bodybuilder, but he’s strong . And he looks like... a good guy.”
    “A good guy?”
    “I mean, like a good church going guy or something. Well dressed, never a hair out of place, shirt always freshly pressed.”
    T-Bone let out a noise that might have been a chuckle. “A real boy scout, huh?”
    I nodded. He most definitely was not a boy scout, but he had the look.
    “Well, he’d stand out in this town. Ain’t too many people dressed like that around here.”
    I nodded. Although I’d only been there a couple of weeks the only time I’d seen anyone as well turned out as Dewey had been a few young men heading to Sunday morning worship - the rest of the time this town was more redneck casual than preppy boy scout.
    Twist came back with five beers and set four of them down. Bottle raised his eyebrows at him. He didn’t need to say anything. The young man gulped and set the last beer down on the table in front of us.
    “You’ve got shit to do, Twist.” Bottle relayed a description of Dewey. “Put the word out everywhere. Check every motel, hotel, halfway-house and fuckin’ campsite within twenty miles of here, and tell every last prospect and hangabout that if they ever want to have a chance of getting patched they better be out with their eyes fucking peeled. I want this boyscout-fuckhead found. And soon .”
    Twist nodded. “I’m on it.”
    He began to turn away. “Wait,” I said, “He’s dangerous. He may look preppy, but he’s strong, and vicious . Be fucking careful. Okay?”
    Twist let out a derisory snort. “He don’t know about me.”
    The other men looked at each other as if in momentary confusion. Then, T-Bone smacked his thigh, Gauge shook his head in disbelief while Bottle gave out a kind of shrieking half-laugh. “Don’t know about you,