Finding Mayhem

by Layla Frost

Mrs. Anderson had been a shrill old bitch who’d hated me on sight and hadn’t been shy about showing it. She’d called the cops on me for every perceived slight—from my Harley being too loud to my lawn being too green. Honest to God, she’d claimed the unnaturally green lawn was proof I’d used chemicals like a front yard steroid scandal.

When I’d heard she died, I couldn’t say I was sad. I could, however, say I’d toasted whatever hell she burned in. They needed the luck. And then I’d pissed in her prized rose bush.

Ophelia used to work as a nurse in a ritzy retirement facility before Judge ‘temporarily restrained’ her. Kidnapped. He’d kidnapped her.

Pregnant with a dead man’s baby and moving into her dead aunt’s house. That’d fuck anyone’s shit up.

I’d once watched her kick a man in the balls until he puked, so her fury wasn’t comical. It was legit.

“So there he was,” Ophelia forced out through her barely contained laughter, “in the kitchen. Naked. But not completely. Because he still wore his leather cut and his boots. But other than that, naked and hanging free.” “Hanging low. Hanging down. Hanging long,” I drawled, well on my way to drunk and stupid.

I hadn’t been jerking it to the bottle or using the syrup as lube. In my vodka and weed-addled mind, being naked made sense. Spilling the messy waffle on myself was better than spilling it on my clothes. No idea why I’d put my boots and cut back on.

“You tried to make a vegetable into a steak?” I asked, fuckin’ horrified. I just walked out of an inevitable murder scene, but this is the true crime.

I gripped her chin and tilted her head up to pull her attention away from the spices that old Mrs. Anderson had likely brought over on the Mayflower.

“I was looking for you.” That made him freeze. “Why?” “To say hi. Be neighborly.” He didn’t believe my bullshit for a single second. An arrogant smile spread across his face. “You want to know what I’m grilling.”

“If you share these recipes, I’ll have a bunny rub Carolina reaper pepper on your dick and then waffle iron it. And that’s as close as you’ll ever get to one of my waffles again.”

I always used rubbers, I didn’t think I had anything. But Mac was… Mac. Mac was also pregnant. I wasn’t taking that risk. No fuckin’ way.

But after she’d sought me out, all bets were off. I was taking it slow, but I was still taking it. Taking her—and not just for sex.

He kissed me like I was his to kiss.

Like his kiss, there was no teasing. No buildup. His mouth covered me, and he ate. Like he wanted to devour me. Like he’d been starved for me. It wasn’t slow and mechanical. It wasn’t light and timid. It wasn’t done out of a sense of obligation. Ward licked, bit, and tongue-fucked my pussy because he wanted to. No. Because he needed to.

I wasn’t gonna fuck you till I got tested. Knew I was clean, but when it comes to you and Squish, I wanted to be absolutely sure.

If he hurt her, I’m running over his dick with a Harley. Well, I’m having Ward do it because I don’t know how to drive one. But then I’ll kick him while he’s down.

Mac wasn’t playing it cool. She wasn’t being reserved. She wasn’t putting on a slow, sexy act. It was hurried. Desperate. Honest. The hottest fuckin’ thing I’d ever experienced in my damn life.

I wasn’t gonna play modest and say I was average. If she wasn’t wet enough, it’d hurt like a bitch. I didn’t wanna fuck up my shot by being selfish.

Her legs trembled, squeezing my head like she wanted to smother me in her pussy. A king’s death.

It took less than a minute for her breath to even out, but I stayed awake. ’Cause under my palm, Squish rolled and kicked. And I didn’t wanna miss any of it.

I wanted her to look at me with the same open longing she had for the various baked goods. Christ, I’m getting jealous of dessert. Sad, man. Just pathetic.

“The baby’s not mine.” I thought about the tiny face on the ultrasound. “But the baby is mine.”

She also had a batch of raisin oatmeal cookies Jury had requested—the sick bastard. Who the fuck wanted raisin cookies?

“You sure you’re okay?” “I’ve got plenty of work to catch up on.” She tilted her head back, smiling at me. “And if you’re in there, I won’t have to share my cupcakes with you.” “You’re cold-hearted, woman.”

Once I was inside, I shared my revelation. “I’m in love with Mac.” Gasps. Open-mouthed stares. Astonished expressions with eyes so wide, they were about to pop outta their heads. Shock and awe. Something. I got nothing. Not even a surprised blink or murmured really. Not even a damn raised brow. “Okay.” Swedes turned toward Judge. “What’s going on?”

“I knew I loved O when I tackled her to the dirt, and she screamed in my face.” To anyone else, that sentence would’ve sounded fucked up. But to him, it was a loving memory. Mayhem brothers were twisted like that.

“Yeah, I was cursing it for the way you spoil O, leaving me to starve.” I held my arms out. “I’m wasting away.” Swedes smacked my stomach. “You’re right. I only felt an eight-pack, not ten.” “See? Already skin and bones.”

Even when they went smoothly, it was hard for kids. They were confused. Angry. Scared. Or, worse, they were happy to leave everything behind. They wanted to leave. They were relieved that their entire life was about to change.

“I’ve never held a baby.” “Neither had I. You don’t see me bitching.” I thought for a moment. “Hold her like your edibles just kicked in, and she’s the last burrito in the world.”

“What’s worse than a monster?” Standing from the chair, I kept my piece aimed at his face as I approached. “I’m whatever that is. The thing that goes bump under a monster’s bed.” I pressed the barrel under his chin, digging it in till he winced. “I’m a monster’s monster. Their nightmare.”

Nox told me Kase’s woman did it and almost exploded a man’s shillelagh.” Fuck. O had kicked a man in the balls till he barfed, and I’d thought that was badass. Almost exploding it won, though.

I wondered if she’d finally say something. Hoped she would. Dreaded it, too. I was possessive as hell when it came to her. She was my first love. She was it for me. It. I didn’t wanna hear about another man. Hear about their past, their plans, their life together. Hear her grief.

She dipped her chin down. “For me?” “Always. Any damn time you want it.” “The flowers,” she said through a soft laugh. No bullshit, I’d completely forgotten I held the bundle that was smashed between us.

She stepped away to pull on a leather jacket I’d never seen her wear. One that looked new. One that gave me a new kink. Mac. On my bike. Riding my dick. In just the leather.

“I can’t move in.” “Why?” “Because that’s… It’s crazy. That’s way too fast.” “That’s me going slow,” I told her bluntly. “’Cause what I really wanna do is marry you. But we’ll start with you moving in.”

The roar of the motorcycles was close. Knights riding in on chrome and steel. “You may be able to kill me. You may even be able to take out one or two of them. But not all of them. You’ll die, too.”