Swallowing Mayhem Read Free

corner and headed down a busy block.
    “And? Tell me,
motherfucker.”
    “Hey, you could be a little less
like a prick.” Stupid to say but I was feeling a might bit annoyed.
    Mayhem grunted. “Pussy.”
    I rolled my eyes and focused on
the road.
    “Fine.” He was staring
out the window as he spoke. “Why did you join the club, Torrin?”
    It made me falter that he said my name, but I cleared my throat. There was
a whole backstory that we created for the man I was supposed to be. Instead of
reciting it, I found myself spewing the real thing. It came out before I could
even think. “My father had slaves. I thought he treated them well but the older
I got, the more I learned otherwise.”
    “The shithead
still alive?”
    “Yup.” I couldn’t
argue with his statement. My father was that. “I left after I saw him beat a
kid because he broke a cup. It hadn’t been his fault. I was playing and bumped
into him. But because the kid was dark-skinned, my father beat him.” It was all true, but I didn’t finish the story.
Telling the entire tale was like a knife pressing into my chest over and over
again. I skipped the kid’s fate. “After that day, I couldn’t look at him the
same way. I found a way to be out of the house when he was home until I turned
eighteen then moved out.” Then I joined the peacekeepers thinking I could make
a difference but over the years I saw most of them thought the same way my
father did. Maybe that’s why I was fraught. I ran away from him and into the
arms of strangers just like him.
    “Been lost ever since?”
    I nodded. Mayhem was looking at
me now. I pulled the truck into the parking lot beside Harley’s and turned in
my seat. “Why do you do it?” I should have kept my mouth shut but, “Why do you
fight them? Why do you risk your life against such big odds? Why do you kill?”
    Mayhem frowned. “We all have a past , a history that made us the way we are.
Everyone in the club figured out that what the government is doing...it’s
wrong. Someone needs to rise up and stop them. We took the bloody job.”
    “Why? Why did you ?” I shouldn’t have singled him out.
    Mayhem looked at me closely,
quietly, then spoke. “I was a rebellious little fuck.”
He stared out the windshield at the city. “Always looking for trouble, for
fights, for anything to give me that rush or piss off my old man.” He looked
back at me. “I was sixteen when I started blowing things up. Small
things, furniture, trees. My father thought that some prison time would
do me good.”
    “He sent you to holding?”
    “My father didn’t half ass shit.
He sent me to prison on Earth.”
    Well,
fuck. That’s was harsh.
    “I guess he thought it’d knock
some sense into me, get me out of this dangerous path.”
    “Didn’t work?” I twisted so I
faced him.
    Mayhem gave me a slight twinge of his lips in an attempt to
smile. “Met Outlaw and Lover there. When I came back,
I went with them. They let me blow things up and I didn’t feel guilty about it afterward . They showed me wrong from right.”
    I glanced away, afraid the guilt
would show on my face. Was I doing the right thing? Were the peacekeepers the good guys or the bad guys? I glanced back at
him and he was watching me. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe this chat
wasn’t about us at all. I narrowed my eyes. “The club made
you ask me, didn’t they?”
    Mayhem’s blank expression dropped
for a moment but at that moment, I saw
surprise.
    “You don’t give a shit about me
or my reasons for joining the club. You’re asking me to make sure I wasn’t the
rat.” And here I thought we were bonding.
    “We all needed to get to know you
better and they fucking volunteered me.” He opened the door. “Apparently, you
like to stare at my ass.” Then he hopped out.
    I was alone in the truck with his
words seemingly echoing in my head. That was bullshit! I jumped out and slammed
the door shut. “I’m not staring at your ass. I’m not a