Page 41 of Murder & Mayhem

“Follow me,” he grunts, turning on his heel and leading us into the firehouse.

While the place may look like a firehouse on the outside, it’s been completely renovated inside, with dark painted walls, and the stench of cigarettes and musk hit me as soon as we walked in.

The sound of heavy metal music reaches my ears from further in the building, and rough-looking men, all of whom wear leather cuts, give us the stink eye as we pass by. The music gets louder as we follow the VP down the hallway, and he stops outside a room that seems to be the source of the music. “Grim only wants to speak to you,” he says to Cain, gesturing into the room beside us. “Your men can wait here.”

“Fine,” Cain grunts out, and we share a look before he follows the VP, and Marcus and I step into what I’m assuming was once the fire station's dining area. It’s now the center of the Bastard’s debauchery. The smell of weed and pussy is thick in the air, cigarette smoke making the room appear hazy as I squint through it. A group of men are crowded around a pool table at the far end of the room, and there’s a young-looking barmaid cleaning glasses behind the bar, but otherwise, it’s empty.

Remaining vigilant, Marcus and I settle onto a set of barstools near the entrance, ensuring our backs are to the wall. I notice him eyeing the men around the pool table while I keep my attention on the door. Together, we have the room covered in case any threat emerges.

My thoughts drift to Sawyer and her concern for Luc. I can’t blame her for panicking that he would end up somewhere like here. I know our clubhouse isn’t much to look at and, from the outside, probably appears similar, but the trickle of awareness that drips down my spine and the hostile aggression I’ve sensed since walking in demonstrates how far from the Rejects this place is. Certainly not somewhere a kid should grow up or get sucked into.

“Hey, girlie,” one of the guys at the pool table calls out. “Another round.”

My focus drifts toward the girl behind the bar as she rushes to pop the caps on several bottles of beer. She looks young. Far too young to be stuck somewhere like here. As she heads toward the guys, the beers in her hand, I return my attention to the door, so I miss whatever happens, but Marcus’s low curse before he jumps out of his stool has my head snapping around to see what’s going on.

In a flash, he’s across the room, his hand wrapped around one of the guy’s throats as he slams his face into the pool table. The barmaid is sprawled on the floor, drenched in beer and staring wide-eyed at the scene. I’m across the room in a second, but the men have already drawn their weapons.

“Whoa.” I lift my hands, trying to get everyone to calm down. “What’s going on?”

“This fucker was harassing her, even though she said no,” Marcus all but growls, smushing the asshole’s face further into the green felt.

“Not your fucking problem,” one of the other Bastards snaps, his gun still trained on Marcus.

“It is when she doesn’t want it.”

I glance down at the girl on the floor, startled when I realize just how young she is. From a distance, her pink-tipped hair, nose piercing, and revealing top made her look older, butJesus, she’s a fucking kid. Sixteen at most. I hold out a hand to help her up, but she hesitates, staring at it like it’s going to bite her. After a second, she moves to accept, but before her hand connects with mine, one of the other fuckwits intercepts. Grabbing her by the back of her top, he drags her to her feet.

“Don’t fucking touch our girls.”

“Your girls?!” I snap, incredulous. “She’s a child. Definitely not of legal fucking age.”

The asshole just shrugs, not loosening his hold on the girl. Not that she even seems bothered by the way he’s manhandling her. Something that only pisses me off more.

“Don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business. This is our property. Our club. Our girls. Our rules.”

I grit my teeth, knowing I can’t start an all-out war over this. Marcus obviously doesn’t feel the same way as he swiftly pulls a gun from his ankle holster and shoots the asshole pinned beneath him in the knee.

All-out fucking mayhem ensues, as the guy screams and the others start shouting out threats. I’m itching to grab the gun I have strapped to my ankle, but I’m more likely to end up with a bullet wound if I so much as breathe the wrong way.

“What the hell is going on in here?” A deep bark booms out from behind me. The Bastard men freeze but don’t lower their weapons.

“Grim, this asshole shot one of our men.”

I slowly turn, just enough to catch sight of Grim and Cain standing behind me, taking in the scene with tight expressions.

“He was feeling up this kid,” I explain, keeping my attention on Cain. His expression only darkens further as he looks toward the girl. Tensions remain at an all-time high, and I can practically see Cain biting back some angry retort. We’re on Bastard territory, so, unfortunately, we need to defer to him in this instance. Needing a read on what he’s thinking, I flick my gaze to him. It’s the first time I’ve met him in person, and I take in his white-gray hair, the age lines on his face, and his scruffy beard. He’s dressed in worn jeans, with a t-shirt and leather cut over the top, showcasing muscular arms and tree-trunk thighs. He’s older than I pictured, but he clearly works out regularly. His cold, cobalt eyes slowly rake over each of us, lastly landing on the girl. The lines around his eyes tighten, and I shift my focus to her. Her head is ducked, and I can see a slight tremble that she tries to hide by discreetly fisting her hand at her side.

“Lower your weapons,” Grim eventually barks out. When his men gape at him instead of following orders, he continues, “You all know better than to touch my daughter.”

His what?!

The guy holding onto Grim’s daughter releases her so quickly, and she wastes no time getting out of dodge. Once she’s disappeared, I focus back on the situation at hand.

“Besides,” Grim continues, “the Rejects and Bastards are now allies.”

Oh, fucking hell. This can only end badly.

Chapter 15

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