Finding Mayhem

by Layla Frost

guy in the chair started whimpering, but we both ignored it. If Nox was after him, it was because he deserved to suffer. And since I’d found him trying to roofie drinks in a douchebag bar, he deserved worse than whatever hell Nox was gonna put him through. Instead, I asked about the missing member of Nox’s usual trio. “Where’s Beck?” Matt gave a muffled laugh from his spot by the door. Nox shot me a deadpan look, already channeling his disappointed dad vibe. “Benched at my warehouse.” “Grounded,” Matt put in before going back to robotic. Every Mayhem brother had been benched at some point for already being too drunk, too high, or too exhausted when an impromptu job came in. Or for getting too heated, too invested, or too murderous when a job hit hard. But I’d never seen Matt or Beck step outta line. Hell, I barely saw them show emotion. Definitely nothing that’d get them pulled. “What for?” I asked. “Got a little too happy with a chef’s torch,” Nox said. Swedes had one of those from his days in the kitchen. He used it to light blunts, but it’d been for dessert. “Making a crème brûlée?” “Burning a fooker’s nipples off.” I could almost feel the phantom burn. “Shit.” “He got carried away, and my warehouse went up in flames before we even got the answers we needed.” Nox shook his head. “Real estate market is a bitch right now. Can’t have him incinerating my properties when there’s a shortage just ’cause the crazy bastard gets off on it.” I grimaced. It was no secret that Beck ...