Font Size:  

“What kind of name is Butters anyway?” Fury said and smirked.

Hell, all their names were all a little fucked up, but even though Fury was a badass, he did like to give the guys a hard time, even with something as small as this.

“It’s a name she got apparently 'cause she’s slippery when wet.” Mayhem deadpanned.

The room was dead quiet for a moment, and then they all burst out laughing.

“Well, that’s as good a reason for a name as any I guess.”

They were silent, and Big knew he had to tell Mayhem and the rest of the crew he’d claimed Claire. “Things have changed.”

Mayhem and Fury stared at him, their expressions stoic.

“I know Mayhem wants me along because of what I shared with Claire in the past, but I want to do this not only because of the past but because of now.”

“What the fuck you talking about, man?” Mayhem asked, not sounding angry but confused.

“I want to do this because Claire’s my old lady.”

The silence was deafening. There were no angry words from Mayhem that Big had claimed his sister, no words of warning from Fury about getting involved with a female like this.

This was Big’s business, his decision, and even if one of the club members tried to talk him out of this or stop him, Big would have gone down fighting for what he wanted.

“Okay, she’s yours,” Fury said.

“‘Bout fucking time you claimed her and declared she’s your old lady,” Mayhem said, his voice even.

Big grunted in response.

“Mayhem, you good with all of this? With going after that asshole?” Fury asked.

Mayhem was staring at Big, but he nodded. “I’m good, prez. You treat her good, Big.”

“I’m not about to fuck this up again, Mayhem. She’s my world.”

Mayhem nodded. “Well, then shit’s settled. Let’s get drunk and party before things get ugly.”

Big was glad they were light and easy right now, because what they were going to do tomorrow night would be the total opposite.


Claire knew a decision had been made as soon as she saw Big come out of the meeting room. Mayhem and Fury were next to follow, the air coming from them screaming that things had been planned.

Of course, Claire would never know what those things were, not the gritty details anyway, and she didn’t think she wanted to know.

She moved over to the bar and took a seat, her mind heavy as she thought about what she’d need to do, what she’d need to talk to Big and Mayhem about.

Did she think Steven needed to be killed? At first, she did right after he’d hit her and she was driving toward Desertion, thinking about how stupid she was to have even given him the opportunity to hit her, that she hadn’t seen the signs of who he really was.

But as the days passed, she realized that, yes, Steven needed to be taught a lesson, but death wasn’t the lesson that needed to be dished out.

It was going to be hard explaining this to Mayhem and Big and to make them see that, although she loved them because of their protectiveness over the fact they wanted to avenge her, she couldn’t have a death like that hanging over her.

She was going to tell Big and Mayhem that, tell them that she might have wanted blood at first, and lots of it, but now she’d rather that asshole live in fear.

“Hey,” Mayhem said, and Claire snapped out of her thoughts and turned to look at her brother standing there with his big body blocking out everything behind him. She could see the Bleeding Mayhem Old English script tattoo on his inner arm, angry in appearance, violent in nature. “Can I sit?”

She lifted a brow at him and smiled. “When have you ever asked to do anything?”

He smiled and pulled the barstool out. “Good point, but I was trying to act like a good guy by asking first.”

That had her chuckling. They sat side by side, the silence between them lingering even though the voices and music were earsplitting.

“You talk to him since coming back in town?” Mayhem asked, his focus on the mirror behind the bar. The bottles on the back shelf of the bar looked doubled because of their reflection, but she focused on her brother again.

“Why would I?” she answered. “I don’t know why you’d be talking about him anyway.”

Mayhem looked at her then, and she turned just her head to stare at her twin. “Because he’s our dad, Claire, and I’m curious.”

“He’s a drunk who didn’t do anything for us while growing up.” She picked up her beer bottle and took a long drink from it.

“You’re right. I don’t give a shit if we ever talk to him again. I was just wondering is all.”

Ash handed Mayhem a beer then but didn’t stand around and talk to them. Maybe he sensed the heavy conversation bouncing between her and the club’s VP.

Articles you may like