Jameson: Mayhem Makers (Forsaken MC #1)

1. Jameson

M y brother and I were on a run to San Diego when I noticed the cartel tailing us. Ever since we’d rescued my sister, Dixyn, from their boss and killed everyone involved, they’d been dicking with us any way they could.

And I was getting pretty fucking tired of it.

“Three cartel behind us,” I told my brother, Raleigh, over Bluetooth.

He nodded but didn’t look.

I tried to think of the best plan as we continued to San Diego. I definitely didn’t want them to reach our destination with us, especially since we had an important trade with the Chinese. We could pull off at a gas station and confront them if they followed us, but they’d be stupid to stop, so that might not work.

We could also check into a motel for the night and take care of them there if they got a room.

Our meeting wasn’t until the next day, and we’d planned on getting a room anyway, so I decided that was the best course of action. We’d just pretend we didn’t know they were following us and attack when they least expected it.

“I think the best plan is to act like we didn’t see them, check into the motel as planned, then jump them in the middle of the night,” I suggested.

“Sounds good,” my brother responded.

We drove another couple of hours before we reached San Diego and pulled into the parking lot of the shitty motel we always stayed at when we came into town on runs.

As we got off our bikes and headed to the lobby, I noticed the cartel van pull into the bar across the street.

When we walked into the small lobby, the hotel clerk, Vic, greeted us, “Jameson, Raleigh, good to see you boys again.”

I grinned at the older man. “Good to see you, too, Vic.”

“Just the two of yous this time?” Vic asked in his thick Jersey accent.

I nodded as he slid me a keycard. “Yeah, quick in-and-out visit. But we have some unwanted company.”

Vic arched a brow. “You’re not gonna make a mess, are you?”

Raleigh and I laughed. “Hopefully not. Cleaner is easier.”

Vic sighed. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

I slipped Vic a few hundreds and smirked. “It’s three Mexicans in a van. Give them the room next to us, and we’ll be as quiet and clean as possible.”

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “I better not get any heat from this.”

“You won’t,” I assured him. Motel rooms had so much DNA all over them that it would be hard to charge anyone with anything.

“If I do, I’m charging you double next time.”

I laughed. “Always good to see you, Vic.”

I could hear Vic muttering as we walked out.

“He’s going to ban us one day,” Raleigh commented.

“Nah, he likes the drama, even if he’d never admit it.”

Vic always gave us the same room if it was available; first floor, last room on the end. I briefly glanced across the street to see the van still parked at the bar as we walked to our room.

Once we were in our room and the door was locked, I told Raleigh, “We need to keep an ear out for when they check in.”

My brother nodded as he plopped down on one of the beds. “I hope they’re quick. I want to see if that bartender is at the bar tonight.”

I chuckled. “That feisty Black chick?”

Raleigh nodded with a smirk. “She’s even feistier in bed.”

We came to San Diego every couple of months, and I wondered how many times my brother had hooked up with the hot bartender.

I set down my duffel bag on the other bed, eyeing the door that joined our room with the room next to it. “Most of these cartel assholes are arrogant and impatient. I don’t think they’ll wait too long to try something.”

Raleigh laughed and started scrolling on his phone.

I made sure both of my pistols were loaded before sitting on the chair by the window. Propping my feet on the table in front of me, I peered out the window to check for any activity.

I didn’t see anything, so I started messing around on my phone, too. After about twenty minutes, I heard the door of the room next to ours opening.

Making eye contact with my brother, I nodded. I wanted to get things over and done with as soon as possible, then have some beers and a smoke.

Raleigh got up and checked his nine as I pulled back the curtain slightly to look outside again. I didn’t see them outside, so I stood and took out one of my guns then headed to the door that joined our room with theirs.

My brother followed, and I didn’t hesitate before walking over and kicking the door in. Three Hispanic men quickly turned to face me, and I shot two in the forehead, then shot the other in each knee.

The man groaned in pain as he fell to the floor like his partners. He started cursing in Spanish as Raleigh closed the door behind us, then went to check the other men to make sure they were dead.

Kneeling in front of the cartel scum, I forced his chin up with my gun. When we made eye contact, I asked, “When are you going to learn to stop coming after us? Does your boss enjoy his men being sent back in body bags?”

The man’s breathing was frantic as he sneered at me, “Fuck you, puto. ”

I laughed. “I was thinking about letting you live so you could go back to your boss and tell him to quit sending maggots like you after us, but now I’m not so sure.”

“He won’t stop until every last one of you is dead. Both the Forsaken and Suicide Kings,” he replied before spitting in my face. “ Vengaza por su hermano.”

Rage lit up my veins, and I growled before pulling the trigger, blowing a hole in the motherfucker’s throat. “Let’s see you spit now, cunt.”

Blood poured from the wound, and gurgling was the only response I received. Taking my bandana out of my back pocket, I wiped the spit and blood from my face. I frowned as I stood, telling my brother, “Let’s get this cleaned up quick and get the fuck out of here.”

I grabbed the keys to their van, which was parked right outside. I turned it around so that the back doors were facing the room. I made sure the coast was clear before Raleigh and I moved the bodies into the van, then drove out to a patch of desert on the border of California and Mexico.

Then we doused it in gas and set that bitch on fire.

Raleigh had driven the van, and I followed him on my bike. We rode back to the motel, then cleaned the room as best as we could with the cleaning products the housekeepers used.

When we were finished, I stripped my clothes and hopped in the shower. Raleigh did the same after I was done, then we headed to the bar across the street.

Once we entered the bar, we went straight to the bartop and sat down. My brother’s bartender was there, and she smiled as she came over to us. “Hey, guys, what’ll it be?”

Raleigh smirked as I ordered two beers. “You get off soon?”

As the bartender set the beers down in front of us, she gave my brother a coy smile. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Raleigh nodded, winking at her as he took a swig from his bottle. I chuckled, then took a sip of mine. “Let’s get a game in before you get your dick wet.”

Half an hour later, the bartender came up behind my brother at the pool table and whispered in his ear. He grinned before following her, calling over his shoulder, “Be back in a minute.”

“Hopefully longer than that,” I teased.

I finished my beer, then went outside to smoke a cigarette. As I was taking my last drag, Raleigh came outside. He had a satisfied grin on his face as he took out his pack of smokes and slid a cigarette out.

“That fast, huh?” I joked before dropping my cigarette butt and snuffing it out with my boot.

“Fuck you,” he retorted as he lit his cigarette and took a long drag.

I chuckled. “Wanna play one more round before calling it a night?”

His mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “Sure.”

We played another game of pool before returning to our room and crashing for the night.

The next morning, we checked out of the motel. “Did you leave a mess?” Vic asked, arching a brow at me.

I smirked. “No. You know we clean up after ourselves.”

Nodding, he chuckled. “Good. Now, get the fuck outta here before more trouble follows you.”

“Always good to see you, Vic,” I said as I walked out of the small lobby.

After Raleigh and I ate breakfast at a diner down the street, we made our way to the meeting point. The Chinese always picked a new spot every time we met, but it was usually at a warehouse somewhere in San Diego.

We met at an abandoned warehouse near the port this time. I recognized the five men waiting for us inside and greeted them with a nod.

“Glad you made it in one piece, Jameson,” Lee, the man in charge, commented.

I chuckled as I set two duffel bags on the table. “It’ll take a lot more than three cartel cunts to take me down.”

He snapped his fingers, and two of his men came forward and opened the duffel bags. They began counting the stacks of cash, then nodded when finished.

Lee spoke in Mandarin before the men grabbed two duffel bags of their own and brought them to the table. “I might be able to help you with your problem.”

I arched a brow, intrigued. “The Yakuza are interested in taking out the Mexican cartel?”

He laughed. “No. I meant the problem with your drug supply.”

“What did you have in mind?”

He grinned. “Well, as you know, fentanyl is the hottest drug right now. We could give you a great deal if you wanted to start selling for us.”

I glanced at my brother, who shrugged. From what I knew, my dad despised the stuff, but our problems with the cartel were causing issues with our drug game. “I’d have to run it by my father first. Since he is the president and all.”

“Of course,” Lee replied as he slid the duffel bags to me. “Tell him to contact me if he’s interested.”

I opened the duffel bags and searched inside each one, double-checking to make sure all the weapons we’d paid for were there. “Will do,” I said as I zipped the bags back up and handed one to Raleigh. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

We got back on the road and started the five-hour ride home, each with a duffel bag on the back of our bikes. “We got a lot to talk to Dad about,” Raleigh commented.

“Yeah. We have to figure out something about the cartel. This shit’s getting annoying.”

His laughter sounded through my headset. “What do you think Dad will say about the fentanyl?”

I sighed. “Not sure. A lot of people end up accidentally overdosing on it, so I don’t think he’ll want to take the risk.”

“If he wants to get back in the drug game, he might have to. This bullshit with the cartel is killing our business.”

“Yeah. We need to figure out something.”

When we made it to the club, we brought the guns in, then I went to my dad’s office. The door was open, but I knocked on it anyway. “We’re back.”

He glanced up at me from the stack of papers in front of him, then nodded. “Good. Everything go okay?”

I leaned against the doorframe. “For the most part.”

Setting his pen down, he exhaled a breath and made eye contact with me. “What does that mean, son?”

“Well, some cartel roaches followed us to the motel, but we took care of them. Trade went fine. Lee made us an offer.”

“Close the door and take a seat,” my father ordered.

I did as he said, and he frowned. “How many this time?”

“Three. One of them had some very specific last words.”

His brows rose. “Oh really? Do tell,” he replied, voice laced with sarcasm.

“He said they’ll never stop until all the Forsaken and Suicide Kings are dead.”

My dad rolled his eyes. “Great. Anything else?”

“He said something in Spanish, but I don’t know what it means.”

“What? I’ll put it in an online translator.”

“ Vengaza por su hermano.”

My dad typed the words on his computer, then read the results. “Vengeance for his brother.”

Until that point, we didn’t know who had taken over for Matteo after we’d killed him and all his men. But if what the cartel scout had told me before I’d shot him was true, it sounded like Matteo’s brother had taken over and was out for revenge.

My dad sat back in his chair. “We need to find out if this is true. If it is, we might be able to use the information to get the upper hand.”

“I’ll look into it.”

He nodded. “And what’s this offer from Lee?”

“Apparently, he knows about our problems with the cartel. He offered to give us a good deal on fentanyl to sell for them.”

My dad scoffed. “Are you fucking serious?”

I shrugged. “It’s the hottest drug right now.”

“Yeah, and people overdose on it all the time. We don’t need that shit coming back to us. I don’t need the cartel and the cops up our asses.”

I let out a gruff laugh. “True.”

“Anything else?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Just need to inventory the guns and put them in the armory.”

“Good. Get that done ASAP.”

I saluted my father. “On it, Prez.”

I left my dad’s office and went to the armory where Raleigh and I had dropped off the guns. I grabbed our inventory binder, then entered each weapon and put it in the armory.

When I was finished, I went to find my brother. He was watching TV in the rec room, and I clapped my hands down on his shoulders, causing him to jerk. “What the fuck, bro?”

I chuckled. “Need to talk to you about something.”

He rolled his eyes. “Already? We just got back.”

Ever since our grandpa had died and my dad had taken over, Raleigh and I had been given more responsibility. While I embraced the added expectations, Raleigh didn’t. It was annoying, especially when I had to pick up his slack. “Yes. Quit bitching and listen.”

He scoffed. “Whatever.”

“Dad translated what the cartel said back at the motel, and it indicates that Matteo’s brother has taken over and is out for revenge. We need to do some digging on this brother and find some leverage.”

Raleigh was still focused on the TV. “Okay. Once you find it, let me know, and we’ll take care of it together.”

I balled my fists to temper my anger. “You know what? I’ll just take care of it myself.”

I walked away, not waiting for a response. I was fed up with babysitting him anyway.

I went to the office and hopped on a computer. I wasn’t sure how much I could find searching the internet, especially when the cartel tried to stay out of the media, but I thought I might be able to find something about Matteo’s brother in his obituary.

I took out my phone and called my sister, Dixyn. She answered after a few rings, and I could hear my niece crying in the background. “Hello?”

“Hey, sis, how’s it going?” I asked.

She laughed. “Still adjusting to being a new mom. When are you going to come see your niece again, anyway?”

I smiled, thinking of the chubby baby who always grabbed my hair when I held her and pulled as hard as she could. “I just got back from a run, so I can probably stop by this weekend.”

“We’d really like that. What’s up? Why did you call me?”

“I have a random question for research purposes,” I answered, knowing she might get upset when I asked her. Matteo had abused Dixyn for almost a year and kidnapped her when she left him and came back home, so he was a sore subject for her.

“Okay,” she said. “What is it?”

“What was Matteo’s last name?”

My sister didn’t answer for several seconds, then asked, “Why?”

I sat back in my chair. “Well, we got some intel that his brother is the one who took over for him, and I’m trying to find out who he is.”

“Ah, I see. It’s Alvarez.”

I put the phone on speaker, then set it on the desk before I started typing the asshole’s name in the search engine. “Thanks, Dixie. I’ll text you later to see when’s a good time to come see you and Poppy.”

“Okay. Love you,” she said.

“Love you, too,” I replied before ending the call.

Several news articles about Matteo’s death popped up on the results screen, and after scrolling down a little, I found a link to his obituary.

I skimmed over the opening paragraph and slowed down when I got to the part where it listed his surviving family.

Bingo.

Matteo had three brothers, but two were still teenagers so I assumed the one that had taken over the family business was the other one.

That brother, Miguel, had a wife and five daughters.

A smirk curved my lips. I’d just found our leverage.