Sons of Mayhem 3: The Full Force (2 page)

“Dibs. Shotgun. He called it.” I explained. Our club president nodded with a slightly bemused expression as he got it. He’d have to learn
proper
English around this lot.

“Oh and look at this. MILF, 40+,
Giant
tits.”

Jase and I both looked around, puzzled. Whose was this?

“I like ‘em real big. Something to bury my face in. Y’know?” said Chad Chad Price, appearing beside them.

“You dirty motherfucker,” said Jase.

“Fuck you. I like what I like.” Chad gave Jase a playful smack on the arm. Not many suits would do that to an MC president they’d just met. Brave little arsehole.

“By the way, what exactly
is
your job, Chad?” I asked.

He grinned and handed over a business card. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes as I read it.

Chad Chad Price - Triple Threat:

Tour Manager.

Band Manager

Public Relations and Social Media Tsar.

“I do it all baby. I get people, bands, artists
noticed
. I make or break them. When this tour is done this group’s going to be the biggest Brit band in America. Biggest since the Beatles. Maybe bigger.”

I laughed in partial disbelief. Was this guy serious? He was one cocky son of a bitch.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Jase headed back to the rest of the guys to figure out their positions. They were hanging about, joshing around, each with a beer in hand they had rustled up from somewhere. There must have been some bar staff skulking about in the dark somewhere. They hadn’t brought one over for me though. I’d have to remedy that soon. I felt a thirst coming on.

This show would be no problem. It was small and there were ten of us. Ten tough biker motherfuckers. Some of the later shows were gonna be bigger, but this last minute addition? This little show in this grimy little club would be a piece of piss.

3
Ava

H
ot and sweaty
. Wailing guitars and thumping drums. Flashing lights. Shoved and pushed. Shit, it had been too long since I went to a show. From afar they seem unappealing: too loud music in a too crowded venue selling too expensive drinks to too many rowdy people.

But you forget the vibe. The energy. The power.

Lily and I were jumping together in time with the rest of the crowd as The Full Force powered toward the end of their set. The shirtless band members were strutting and rocking all over the stage, looking even hotter and sweatier than the crowd. It was impossible to think or do anything except be taken in the moment and rock out with everyone else.

The energy emptied my mind of everything else and for a moment I didn’t care that I was going to be tired and achy tomorrow when I rolled into work at Spencer and Maker, the marketing firm I worked for.
Crash
. The cymbals yelled at us and we all listened as the singer announced they were doing their final song of the night.

They stretched it out. Lily had played this number in the car - she’d played them all - and what had been a short three minute power-rock screaming ballad called
Your Effect
was turned into a drawn out anthem with an extended guitar solo as well as what must have been three minutes - but felt like half an hour - of the crazed drummer giving it his all in a rousing and rocking drum solo.

I was gasping when it was over. I hadn’t moved like that in years. Lily was grinning at me and I knew right then she had forgotten the boy she’d broken up with. They say music soothes the soul but music like this rips out whatever the hell is pissing you off, beats it to a bloody pulp and pisses on it. And that’s a very good thing.

“Alright, let’s get out of here. It’s a long way back.” I wasn’t sure if she’d even be able to hear me if her ears were ringing as much as mine. Whether she did or not, she understood my intention as I nudged her elbow in the direction of the door.

“Nuh uh.” She shook her head and said something else about the band I couldn’t quite catch.


What?
” I yelled.


Encore!
” she yelled back.

Of course. The encore. I looked up at the stage, and sure enough there were still two “security guards” up there and didn’t look like they were going anywhere soon.

Why the hell was a motorcycle club providing security at a place like this? Didn’t the club have their own regular doormen? And if they didn’t, why on earth would a British rock band be touring with an American biker gang.

Who knows. I gave an internal shrug. It was kind of cool though. There were a bunch of the bikers scattered around the club. Two outside, two inside the door, another few along the walls, and two up on the edges of the stage. During the show they’d pushed a few over-eager fans back down but there hadn’t been anything seriously rowdy. Not much for them to do at a small show like this.

The security guy on the right of the stage caught my eye and he was looking directly at me. I looked him over and I didn’t mind a bit. He was, in simple terms, hot. A bad boy in a leather jacket, tats up his arms and even his lower neck, wicked-blue eyes that promised maybe mischief, maybe danger, perhaps both and a cheeky grin.

He was my kind of guy. Let me fix that, my kind of
fantasy
guy. Not like the boring gray-Grahams in the office at work. And not unobtainable like the rockstars Lily pined after - she even had pictures of this band all over her walls. Now, a hot guy with a hint of danger? Can’t beat ‘em. Not that I’d ever dated anyone like that of course. Only office drones in my past.

I gave him a smile. He didn’t respond. A flash of anger and embarrassment rolled through me.

Bastard.

He
hadn’t
been looking at me. I glanced to my side and I knew. It was Lily he’d been looking at. My little, innocent, red-haired sister Lily.

Bastard.

~
Y
ou fill my needs when you’re on your knees~

The band were back on stage blasting through their most famous song, the only one that had really hit the charts in the US so far.
My Needs.
It was catchy, dirty, loud and perfect for singing live. The whole audience sang along with them and the mood was good, ecstatic even.

They sure could put on a show. I couldn’t help it, I was grinning ear to ear again, me, who ninety minutes earlier wanted to give up and head home, me, who ten minutes earlier was pissed at the asshole biker on the edge of the stage.

I grinned over at Lily. At least I tried to. She was gone. A surge of panic ran through me for a second. Relax, I told myself. She couldn’t go far. And she’s a grown woman now anyway. I’d find her after the show. It was a tightly packed crowd, she probably just got shoved to the front or to the side or something.

But I couldn’t help it. I tried to enjoy the last few minutes of the show, I really did, but my head kept whipping around looking for Lily, wanting to make sure she was okay. With all the security guys and a friendly crowd I was sure she’d be fine but my big-sisterly instincts wouldn’t quit.

When I found her, it was quite by accident. She wasn’t to my left, or right, she wasn’t in front or behind. She was
above
me. I saw her hair out of the corner of my eye and looked up and there she was, eyes wide, teeth flashing, shouting in happiness as she was crowd surfed over my head.

I reached a hand up, too little too late and all I got was a brief touch of her leg. A brief moment of her hot damp skin against my fingertips before she was gone, laughing, giggling and waving as she flew across the crowd to the front of the stage, carried forward by the pushing and supporting arms of the audience.

I panicked. I’d seen what had happened to the other crowd surfers: a solid rejection from the bikers on the stage - bodies flying back into the crowd, to the ground. But she was a girl, they wouldn’t just toss her down, would they?

As the song ended the final notes from the guitar continued to ring through the crowd as I watched Lily continue to fly forward. She reached the stage as the band were giving theatrical bows and screaming
thank you’s
to the crowd. The biker from before, the hot one, saw her coming and jumped over to that part of the stage.

If you hurt her I’ll kill you, you bastard
, I promised to myself. But the good-looking bastard didn’t hurt her, didn’t toss her back into the crowd below.

He grabbed her and pulled her up to the stage.

I caught one last glimpse of her, blinking on the stage, blinded by the lights shining down on her until someone flicked a switch and all the lights went out.

A few seconds later different lights were on and I could see again, the whole club now dimly lit, not just the stage. The band was gone.

And so was Lily.

4
Lonnie

I
t all worked out perfect
. Before the encore we’d found most of who we needed, and pointed the women in the direction of the tour bus. I had even managed to find a couple of Asian girls for Neal, though twins they weren’t. Maybe after a few drinks he wouldn’t notice.

The redhead had been a problem though. You wouldn’t have thought it, law of averages being a thing and all, but it was what it was. There weren’t any. None. At least not near the stage. I wasn’t overly concerned. What were they gonna do, fire me?

But then, just as the show was ending I’d had one delivered right into my arms. She flew across the crowd, like a gift from God above. A God that gifts groupies, that is.

Boom, she landed. “That’s her!” I heard Si yell behind me as I steadied her on the stage. The lights went out and I led her down the steps off the side of the stage out to the small room out back the band had been using as a makeshift dressing room.

The room was normally used to store boxes of unused glasses. It was also connected to the cellar where they stored the booze and was linked to a delivery entrance which led to where the tour bus was parked out back.

Her eyes were wild when I pushed her into the dressing room. Si took her by the arm. He looked very, very happy. Too happy in fact. There’s something messed up with him these days, I thought. I hoped the rest of the band were keeping an eye on him. He’d always had a problem taking things to excess, and now they presumably had a bit of money… I shook my head. Not my problem.

“Have fun mate,” I said

He pulled her in close to him. “Will do. Will do indeed.”

The girl had a smile as wide as the Thames and her eyes were on fire with excitement. I couldn’t understand it. Who the hell would want to spend time with ole’ Si? It takes all sorts I guess.

I headed back out to the dimly lit club to find Jase and the rest of our crew. It was time for some drinks and maybe find a few ladies of our own. Well, not for Jase though. He had a ball and chain now. The crowd had slimmed somewhat as a lot of people left when the band finished the set. They probably had jobs or class to go to the next day.

A minute later I was leaning against the wall, a fag in one hand and cold bottle of cheap lager in the other. Nothing like a cold lager or six in a hot club after a show. I raised it to my lips, the cold glass teasing the ambrosia within--

“You bastard!”

Smash
. My bottle went flying, bounced off BK, one of the Sons prospects, and shattered on the ground. What the fuck?

BK gave me look that said
have fun with that one pal,
as he brushed a couple of drops of beer off his cut with a grin.

The chick in front of me was a real sight to behold. You know what it’s like when you’ve got a fit bird in front of you, and she’s all riled up, nostrils flaring, eyes raging, mouth blaring and all you want to do is hold her down and give it to her while she hurls abuse at you? That’s exactly what she looked like. Gorgeous, but absolutely fuckin’ livid.

I gave her a grin. “Let me guess, you wanted to buy me a drink? Jealous I got one already?”

It was great. I thought her head was about to explode. I had no idea who this mental bird was, but with her tight jean shorts, tight t-shirt, and sweat dripping down her I knew exactly what I wouldn’t mind doing to her.

“Where’s my sister?”

I pondered her question a moment. Since I’d never had the pleasure of laying eyes on this hottie before, I guessed her sister must have been one of the chicks we tapped for the band. Looking at her, the sister probably wasn’t the well-endowed middle aged lady or one of the Asians.

“Slim blonde? Kind of airheady? Big tits?” I enquired.

Slap
. She didn’t like that much, did she? The boys beside me laughed and so did I. We were used to feisty women. Usually there was a reason they got bolshie first though -- they didn’t just come into the clubhouse fists swinging without good reason. This chick was coming at me right out of the blue and it was making my balls tingle.

“Red hair! On the stage!”

Oh, the redhead. Huh. I was having fun with her now though. I decided to play dumb a bit longer.

“A redhead? On the stage? Do you mean Rabbie the drummer? Is your sister an angry Scotsman? Huh. I always knew there was something off about that one…”

Slap
. Apparently she didn’t find me as funny as I thought I was. The slaps were getting a bit old now, too. I raised a hand to my cheek and rubbed some of the soreness away. I wished I still had my beer so I could hold the cold bottle against my burning cheek. And I wished she could find something else to slap. Perhaps my arse while I fucked some of that anger out of her...

“The girl who was crowdsurfing. You pulled her onto the stage. Tell me where she is,
now.

“Look love, she’s a big girl, and where she is now is her concern, not yours.”

I saw her raise her hand again, but I wasn’t having anymore of that. This time I grabbed her by the wrist. She raised her other hand and I grabbed that too, held them down by her side. I was tired of getting slapped. My grip was tight, but she still struggled. She had a lot of fight in her and I liked it. I can’t deal with timid women -- I need someone who gives as good as me.

“Please. We don’t live in this town. She’s my little sister, I need to get her home. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“How old is she?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“She’s only nineteen--”

Good. She wasn’t underaged. We didn’t want any of the boys getting arrested for shit like that, no matter how keen and willing the groupies were.

“Nineteen? Look love, she’s an adult. A big girl. She’s gone to have a little drink or two with the bassist and it’s really not your concern. Why don’t you go on home. We’ll make sure she has a ride or a bus ticket or something tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? What the hell! She’s on--”

I still had a good tight grip on her hands. I couldn’t be dealing with this shit, not now. I was here to have a good time, not to listen to some overly-mothering big sister to a groupie. No matter how hot she was.

“Look love,” I interrupted her, “I’m not interested. They’ve gone. She’s gone. We just do security here. Now the show’s over what happens after isn’t my business. They’re consenting adults.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

I sighed. Might as well tell her, I thought. She wouldn’t get in anyway. Last I heard they had cops keeping the screaming fans outside.

“Gone back to the hotel in LA. The Grand.”

“And they took her with them?” She sounded panicked.

I felt a twinge of compassion, what was with this bird? Didn’t she want her little sister to grow up? Well hard lines. You can hold someone back a bit, maybe a few months, maybe a couple of years, but everyone grows up eventually and there’s not a damn thing a parent or big sister can do to stop it. And once that train is rolling it ain’t stopping. Worse than that though, is sometimes the one’s that have been really held back, well they go the most nuts of all. Shit, if this big sister had been mothering her too hard there’s no telling how wild this little one would be. Lucky Si.

“Yep, as far as I know. Last I saw, she was sitting on Si’s lap heading off to the hotel.”

With a sudden wrenching she freed herself of my grip which I’d allowed to get slack. Without a glance back she stormed off out the door of the club.

I watched her as she went, hips swinging defiantly as she marched off. I raised my hand to my shoulder, imagining giving her a solid thwack on that fine arse of hers. She deserved it after the way she kept slapping my face. She might even enjoy it. She seemed a bit uptight, it’d probably do her good.

I turned back around to talk to the boys.

BK was stood there stifling a laugh as he handed me a fresh bottle of beer. He was pretty damn amused by the whole spectacle.

“Cheers,” I said as I took the bottle and gave him a grin. As a prospect he shouldn’t really be laughing at me, but shit, when it comes to feisty women? Rules are off then. It’s universally amusing to everyone else when a member, prospect or hangaround starts getting slapped around by one of the women. Still, maybe now I could get my cold beer and have it in peace, I thought.

Nope. Twat alert.

“Good work, guys. Not too many broken noses, huh?” Chad Chad Price said, laughing at his attempt at a joke.

“What do you need, Chad?” I asked.

“Hotel called. Said the cops are leaving soon. Says they’re not blowing their overtime budget babysitting the
Force
. Hotel says we’ve gotta’ provide security or they’ll kick ‘em out.”

“So?” I asked.

“So you’ve gotta go. Get on your motorcycles,” he mimed jumping aboard an imaginary motorcycle, “and vroom vroom. Go kick some teenage girl ass.”

“Kick some teenage girl ass? Really?”

Chad laughed. Too hard. “Not really. Not unless you
like
that.” Too much laughter again.

“We’re supposed to be doing the shows, hotels weren’t included. That’s a completely different pay scale Chad.”

“Well how much do you want?”

I shrugged. “I’ve gotta’ talk to the boss. Figure it out.”

“Well hurry it up. The hotel said the cops are out of there at 11. We don’t want you being late again.”

I put my head down, right in front of his, face to face. “Mate, seriously. Stop telling us we’re fuckin’ late. We’re not late. You fucked up. Again. Got it?”

My tone was harsh and it dripped menace. This little greaseball was one cocky motherfucker, and the way he’d been talking to us so ballsy-like I was surprised no one had kicked the shit out of him years ago. Maybe they had. But if they had, he hadn’t learned. My tone seemed to do the trick though. He gave a respectful nod and a gulp before leaving us the hell alone.

The little fucker glanced pointedly at his watch as he walked away though. The nerve of some people.

Tipping the bottle I held back into my mouth I swallowed until I’d drained it all. I had to find Jase and discuss how much we needed to ding Chad for, if we even wanted the job.

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