Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Lettie
Athens, Texas...
“VIOLET!”
I flattened my hands on the counter and took a deep breath.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six...
“VIOLET!”
Five, four, three, two, one.
I pushed off the counter and walked to the back room where my mother lived. I stood in the doorway and watched her stare out the window.
“VIO—”
“I’m right here, Mother.”
My mother’s body jerked at the sound of my voice. She hadn’t expected me to be so close.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting ready to take some food to the clubhouse.”
“What clubhouse?” Her eyes narrowed in my direction.
“The one next door, Mother. I know you’ve heard the music. You complain about it constantly, even though it’s barely a whisper.”
“Why are you taking them food? Surely someone over there can cook.”
“Kronos died, Mother. I’m taking food because that’s what you do when someone dies.”
My mother scoffed at the notion of politeness. She scoffed at empathy of any kind. Friendliness and sympathy weren’t in her wheelhouse. In my entire life, I’d never met a single friend of hers.
Sure, there had been acquaintances. Occasionally coworkers when she held a job long enough. But she wasn’t the type of woman other women wanted to be around.
I didn’t want to be around her either.
But she was my mother, I reminded myself.
“If you take food over every time one of those men gets himself killed, you’ll be too busy to cook for us.”
“Was there something you needed? Would you like to come with me?”
“No, I don’t want to go with you. Why would I want to go over there?” She looked me up and down, and I braced for the inevitable remark about my clothes.
I wore basically the same thing every day: an ankle-length tiered skirt and a fitted tank top. The only variation was color, and in cooler months, I added a sweater.
It made life easier.
No wondering every morning what I felt like wearing. No concern about looking presentable when customers stopped by to purchase my products.
I’d heard the rumors in town about the hippie on the flower farm, and while my mother hated it, I didn’t let it bother me. I lived my life the way that made me happy, refusing to change for anyone. Especially not her.
My unwillingness to bend to someone else’s will was probably the one thing that would keep me single and childless for the rest of my life.
It wasn’t that I wanted to be single and childless. I’d love to have a child. A small person who loved unconditionally, who I could share my secrets with. My knowledge of plants and potions.
But to have a child, you needed a man, or at least some of his best swimmers. I grew up watching how men treated women. I made my living helping women escape the men who deemed them unworthy of being cherished and worshipped.
Not all men were like that, of course. But too many were, and I had no desire to waste my life searching for the rare man who might actually know how to love someone besides himself.
Besides, not many men would accept the darker side of me. Looks could be deceiving. People judged by first impressions, and most never bothered looking past the surface to see the real person beneath.
Men and women alike saw me with my long, loose, wild blonde hair, the bohemian vibe that came from the clothes I wore and the homeopathic potions I sold, and assumed I was... not unintelligent, exactly, but maybe simple.
Unassuming.
Safe.
They didn’t see the darkness beneath the surface. Nor did they hear the voices that whispered to me in the night, urging me to help rid this world of men and women whose only goal was to maim, kill, and destroy that which they’d vowed to love, protect, and cherish.
Not even my mother knew the real me.
“If there’s nothing you need other than to waste my time, I have somewhere to be.”
I turned to go, and my mother’s soft voice called out, “Violet.”
I glanced over my shoulder. It was a voice I hadn’t heard since I was a child.
“I don’t want you to go over there.” Her hands twisted together, wringing with what looked like nerves. Fear, maybe.
“Why?”
“They are not good men.”
“Mother, you don’t know a single one of them. You’ve barely left this house or this property since we moved here.”
I studied her face. Something flashed in her eyes, but it was gone before I could name it. “Why do you think they’re bad?”
“Because men who ride motorcycles aren’t good men.”
“That’s a stereotype, and you know it. You can’t paint every man who rides a motorcycle with the same brush.”
She straightened her back and sank into her recliner. “Fine. But if they lock you in a room and run a train on you, don’t expect me to save you.”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “Stop watching those shows, Mother. They fill your head with nonsense. I’ve met Kronos’ wife in town plenty of times. She’s a very sweet woman.”
It was true. Rhea Cooper was everything I’d ever wanted in a mother. Warm and kind, but also strong. Capable of standing her ground despite her small stature.
“Take the dog with you,” she said as I left her room.
Cerberus looked at me with pleading eyes. I crouched down and rubbed behind his ears. “I wasn’t planning on leaving you here.”
I drove my antique pickup truck up the dusty driveway toward the clubhouse. I’d never been here before, never even seen it. Despite their land butting up against mine, all I could see from my backyard was the glow of light in the evening.
The building was impressive. Two stories with a wraparound porch that looked like it had seen better days. People milled around, but no one paid much attention as I climbed out of my truck and walked around to the passenger side.
I opened the door and grabbed the casserole from the floor, holding it against my torso with one hand while I tapped my thigh with the other. Cerberus jumped down immediately. Then I grabbed the small basket of products I’d brought for Rhea.
As I walked toward the front door, men whistled. I held my head high, ignoring the immature comments about my breasts and behind. I’d expected it. My mother wasn’t the only one who stereotyped. I wasn’t proud of it, but hey, I was only human.
Cerberus, on the other hand, wasn’t as forgiving. He sensed the tension radiating from my body and growled, snarling as the hair on his neck rose.
“Fuck, he’s scarier than the other one,” someone muttered.
My mouth twitched as I fought back a smile at the fear in the man’s voice. I reached the door just as it swung open, and a massive man filled the doorway. His shoulders were so wide he had to turn sideways to fit through the opening.
I’d be a fool if I said my body didn’t lock up with fright. I’d never seen a man this big. My mind immediately started calculating the dosages I’d need to bring him down.
Cerberus lunged forward, and the man slowly backed up.
“Sorry, darlin’, didn’t mean to frighten ya.” He looked down at Cerberus and smiled. “Good boy.”
I blinked up at him. The man stepped back and held the door open. “Go right in. The old ladies are straight back and to the left.”
My body wouldn’t move. I couldn’t take my eyes off the giant in front of me. My mother’s warning blared in my head.
“You okay?” he asked, dipping his head. He seemed to be making himself smaller, trying to pull me out of whatever state I was in. I wasn’t sure shock was the right word. My mind was racing, calculating how quickly and effortlessly he could snap my neck if he wanted to.
“My name’s Kraken, darlin’. I promise I don’t mean you any harm. Rhea would kick my ass.”
Rhea’s name snapped me out of my haze. “I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen a man your size.”
Kraken chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. “I get that a lot.”
“How tall are you?”
“Seven foot two.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered.
I was five foot seven. This man towered almost a foot and a half above me.
“How much do you weigh?” I asked, not at all ashamed.
I needed to know because this giant lived right next door. If he decided to come to my home and attack me, not even Cerberus could protect me. The first thing I’d do when I got home was make a potion and put his name on it.
He tilted his head and studied me. His eyes narrowed, and Cerberus growled low. Kraken smiled. “Three hundred and twenty-eight pounds.”
“Thank you.”
Kraken grinned and took another step back. He chuckled as I walked by, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew why I was asking.
Most of the residents in Athens, Texas, knew I made potions. They came to me for everything from skin moisturizers to headache relievers. But only a few knew what else I made. I was sure the Gods of Mayhem didn’t know anything about my side business.
Still, as I walked past him, my eyes held his.
When another biker stepped into my path with a crude remark, Kraken whistled. The man’s face went pale, and he slipped away with a mumbled apology.
I glanced back over my shoulder and mouthed thank you. Kraken nodded and disappeared out the door. I followed his directions until I heard women’s voices drifting from a room ahead. Unsure how many men had old ladies, I’d expected to find more women than this.
I’d read up on motorcycle clubs when I first moved to Athens and discovered I’d be living next door to one. While I couldn’t find any information about the Gods of Mayhem specifically, I did learn a lot about the different aspects of a club and the men who joined.
And I learned a lot about one-percenter clubs. That was what the Gods of Mayhem were. I didn’t judge. My life wasn’t exactly on the up and up either. Though the lives I’d taken had never been innocent.
“Can I help you?” a beautiful woman with dark hair asked. She looked to be a few years older than me. Before I could answer, Cerberus growled beside me.
Then I heard another growl echo back.
“Diesel,” the woman said firmly.
My eyes shot around the room until I spotted the other dog. Smaller than Cerberus, but no less muscular. His hackles were raised as he stared down my dog.
“Sitzen!” I commanded, and both dogs immediately dropped to the floor.
“Wow, that was impressive,” the woman said, looking between them.
“Lettie?”
I spun around. Rhea Cooper stood there, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, as though she’d been crying for days. Rumors around town said the family had been gone for weeks, and I wasn’t sure when her husband had passed away.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Rhea.”
I set the casserole and basket on the counter and pulled her close. Not growing up with much affection, I’d learned how easy it was to love. How simple it was to be kind and give that love freely.
Especially in times of grief, when people needed it most.