Twisted Asphalt (Asphalt Outlaw Series Book 1) (10 page)

CHAPTER 15

“You got some fucking explaining to do.” Demon growled at
Mace as Talon and Hawkeye grabbed Mace’s arms.

He tried not to fight. Survival mode kicked in and it
screamed at him to put down the men that had grabbed him. Mace could easily do
it, but he knew better. He had to have been discovered. There was no other
explanation for why they were manhandling him.

Amy’s look of fear slammed into him as they dragged his ass
to the Chapel Room, every brother looking at him when he was thrown to the
floor. Her look had been enough to get his blood boiling and he was going to
fight his way out of this situation or die trying.

That was all there was to it.

Mace righted himself from the stumbling mess he had become
when they threw him into the room. Head held high, he looked right into every
pair of eyes with a defiance he felt to his very core. They wanted to take his
ass down; it would take every one of them to do it.

There was a round table, made of dark cherrywood, toward the
right center of the room. In the middle of the table, was the center patch
branded into the wood, a thick laminate covering to protect it from harm. Next
to the table was an ornate wood desk that housed a laptop and removable hard
drive for the secretary’s use. To the other side of the room was a safe cracked
open. From previous Intel the informant gave them, it housed guns, ammo and
cash the club procured.

Stone sat at what seemed to be the head of the round table,
in a chair that was larger than the others, looking like someone pissed in his
beer. “Why the fuck does he still have that cut on?” Stone barked in anger at
the brothers in the room. “He’s not fucking worthy of wearing that cut.”

Mace felt like someone donkey punched him. Not worthy? How
in God’s green earth was he not worthy to wear that patch? He committed a
fucking felony for the club. They knew; there was no other plausible reason for
their reactions. Somehow, one of them found out he was an agent and he was
about to die.

Demon was the first to move toward him, forcing Mace into a
defensive stance. “What the hell is going on? I’ve proved my worth.”

Demon faked a smile while closing the distance between him
and Mace. “Take off the cut, unless you want me to take it off for you.”

“This is bullshit, Stone.” Mace looked back to Stone, who
returned the hard glare. Jaw clenched as he removed the vest with angry,
jerking movements. Mace crumpled the cut in his fist and blatantly threw it at
Demon’s chest. He wanted to aim for the face, but he wasn’t going to fight
unless provoked.

Talon and Hawkeye grabbed Mace once more, sending him nearly
over the edge. He struggled against them to see just how strong the two were,
when he noticed Romeo heading over to the safe. That movement caused stillness
in Mace he hadn’t felt in quite some time. He was a dead man. He heard Romeo’s
movement behind him, the clicking of an unlocking safety.

Scenarios ran through his mind on how to get out of the room
alive, but with that many men in there, the odds were not in his favor. He
might get lucky if any of the women heard a commotion and decided to come
running in to see what was up, but that was doubtful. The room was
soundproofed.

He was fucked.

The hairs stood up on the back of his neck when he heard
Romeo nearing him. As Romeo rounded him, he knew Saber was behind him, Demon
was to his right, but it was what Romeo was holding. It was a Colt 1911 and it
was pointed directly at his head.

“You think you’re fucking worthy to wear a prospect cut?”
Romeo asked like he was shocked at Mace’s indignation of thinking that much
about himself.

Mace’s mind reeled at what was happening. He could only glare
at Romeo. May as well go out with a bang. Go big or go home, right? “You tell
these fuckers to let me go and I’ll show you just how worthy I am with my boot
shoved up your ass.”

Romeo visibly balked at the verbal attack by Mace, waving
the gun in his face as he looked around at the other club members. “Can you
believe this dumbass?” He looked back to Mace, cocking his head from one side
to the other. “I thought you were better than a piece of shit prospect, Mace. I
thought maybe that cut wasn’t for you. Guess I was wrong. Maybe you
don’t
bleed these colors.”

Saber moved out from behind him, the large man proudly
holding a new leather cut. It was all three patches. When Saber turned the cut
around, it had the road name
Maverick
on it. Under the name patch was a
Harley Davidson insignia pin. Toward the bottom of the cut was a Vet patch for
the Marine Corps. The diamond that said it all was on the right side chest
piece, declaring he was an outlaw.

Mace eyeballed Saber then looked to Romeo, Stone, and back
to Romeo. What the fuck game were they playing? No, this wasn’t supposed to
happen. Not yet. He wasn’t supposed to get patched in. “Are you fucking with
me?”

He knew he sounded in shock, and well, he was. He hadn’t
expected this. It wasn’t in the plan or the timeline that was set up. He was
supposed to get out before they vested him.

Stone rose up off his throne and walked toward him, the
brothers parting for him to get through the crowded space. “No, we’re not.
You’ve proven yourself time and time again, brother.” He came to a stop in
front of Mace with a wide grin. “And you’re one crazy asshole, which is why you
got the name Maverick. It means lone wolf, unconventional and a crazy fucker.”

Demon stepped to the door, opening up a crack, said
something to Dalton, then quietly shut the door once more.

Mace looked to everyone, then laughed. He relaxed slightly
when Talon and Hawkeye let him go, allowing him to move his arms, though it was
hard not to let a fist fly at Romeo for pointing a gun at his head. “Holy fuck
me running.” He had to shake his head, fingers combing through his hair to get
a grasp on everything.

“It was a unanimous vote, Mace. No hesitation on bringing
you in. You’ve proven your worth more than enough.” Stone laid his hand on
Mace’s shoulder.

There was a knock on the door. Demon opened it to talk
softly with someone on the other side. As he reached out of the door, Romeo
blocked his view with a cheesy grin.

“We are proud to call you brother and welcome you to our
family. But, did you also know that Maverick means an unbranded calf?”

Mace’s brows furrowed, pulling his head back slightly. “Are
you saying I’m a bull-shitter too?” He laughed, giving Romeo a bro hug.

Romeo returned it and let him go. “It means you’re either in
this club or you’re not.”

Stone moved to the side, exposing Demon walking toward him.
In his hand was—a fucking cattle brand?

“What the fuck?” Mace looked between Romeo and Stone in
confusion.

Fuck. That. Noise.

They wanted to brand him? He should have realized this was coming.
He knew outlaw clubs had initiations, but usually you had to fight for your
cut, or they tattooed you. He was not expecting a fucking branding. You could
get rid of a tattoo if it came down to it, but you couldn’t un-brand yourself.

Slowly, every brother in the room lifted up their left shirt
sleeve, exposing the Six-Gun Outlaw brand boldly placed on their bicep, closest
to their heart. The brand looked like an old fashioned style cattle brand, a
backwards S lined up and against the letter G, which was encased by a circle,
representing an O. It was the seal of true brotherhood, of being a family until
the end, of having a group of men standing beside you through thick and thin.
It was undying and unconditional love of brothers that someone might never
experience.

And here it was, being offered up to a man trying to shut
the club down. If he refused, he was a pussy, or a cop. If he allowed it, he
was marked for life and would break his solemn promise to himself. He would
lose that piece of Sam Dean left buried deep inside of him.

“What about infections?” Mace was quick to ask, hoping to
get out of this without smelling like shit.

Saber coughed, walked over to the table, reached down and
pulled up a large medic kit, unzipped it and let it fall open, revealing enough
medical supplies to handle any sort of injury. “We got you covered man. The
luck of having a medic as a brother.”

Mace wanted nothing more than to shoot the man who looked
like he walked off a movie set. Saber had golden hair and eyes so blue they
almost looked purple. Women couldn’t get enough of the lion-like male.

Reaching down, he grabbed the edge of his t-shirt and pulled
it up over his head, wadded it up and tossed it to the table. “Let’s get to
it.”

The room went into a solid roar of excitement when Mace
welcomed the brotherhood into his heart, home and life. Someone shouted for the
bottle of mezcal, while brothers circled him and Demon prepared the cattle
brand. Mace knew he was going to enjoy this more than he should.

“What the hell is the mezcal for?” Mace looked to Romeo, a
bit confused at what booze had to do with branding.

“Have you never had it before? The first drink is nasty. The
second drink is a bit better, by the fourth drink, you’re numb as fuck and want
the damn worm, and you won’t be worried about your shoulder anymore.”

“No. No liquor.” Mace shook his head. “If we’re doing this,
we do it right.”

“Good,” Demon snarled when he brandished the orange glowing
branding iron. “I want to hear you scream like a bitch.”

That wouldn’t happen. He planted his feet slightly apart,
took in a deep, slow, breath, and exhaled as Demon placed the iron against his
shoulder. Focusing on his breathing, he tried to put his mind into a zone where
pain didn’t exist. The smell of burning flesh, the crackling of his skin didn’t
help him get there, but he’d be damned if he was going to give Demon the
satisfaction of hearing him cry out.

When the iron was removed, Mace did his best not to sit.
Feeling lightheaded, he needed air and water. Saber was right there, chair in
hand, pushing Mace into it, shoving water into his hand. Mace drank it down as
Saber put salve on the brand, placing a piece of gauze over it.

“Keep the gauze on it for a couple of days, change it out
twice a day.” He handed Mace some of the salve. “Make sure you put this on, or
it will get infected. And welcome to the family, brother.”

Each brother welcomed him before they stepped back into the
main clubhouse. After they were gone, leaving just Mace, Stone and Romeo, Mace
stood and looked to the two men, feeling more a part of their family than he
had his own.

Romeo picked up the cut and handed it to Stone, who in turn,
held it open for Mace to put on. Mace couldn’t explain the feelings
overwhelming him in that moment of slipping on the cut. It was a mixture of
elation, brotherhood, family, and sour disappointment knowing what was coming.
Unable to stomach the feeling, he pushed it out of his head. He’d deal with it
when the time came. For now, he was Mason Younger, Maverick, of the Six-Gun Outlaws.

Romeo opened the door for Stone and Mace, then closed it
behind them. A piercing whistle rang through the clubhouse, alerting everyone
around to shut up. Stone gave Mace’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’d like to welcome
our newest brother to the club. Everyone, meet Maverick!”

The clubhouse erupted into applause, whistles and hollering,
mixed with some catcalls from the women. Mace shook his head as those that
weren’t in the Chapel Room came up to congratulate him. He wasn’t interested in
playing nice nice with the brothers and their Ol’Ladies, he wanted—no correct
that, he needed Amy.

He was about to seek her out, but his eyes landed on her by
the kitchen door, leaning back against the wall with her arms folded over her
chest. Maggie was next to her, the two in a discussion. Amy’s light brown eyes
lifted and locked with his. He saw the worry replaced with relief that he was
all right.

Mace was about to break free of everyone when he was all but
tackled by Tasha. Before he could stop her, she had jumped into his arms,
wrapped her legs around his waist, followed by her arms about his neck. Opening
his mouth to say something was the biggest mistake he made.

For the first time in his life, Mace felt violated.

She raped his mouth with her tongue.

Mace grabbed her arms, albeit roughly, and pushed her off of
him, hoping she would land flat on her ass. As luck would have it, the woman
was like a cat and landed on her feet. Wiping his mouth with the back of his
hand, he spit her saliva out of his mouth. The hint of cigarettes lingered and
he was about to puke.

“Someone get the man a drink!” Amy yelled, stalking over to
him. By the look on her face, Tasha was about to get her ass beat and Mace was
going to let it happen. Someone random placed a beer in his hand, patting the
shoulder that was just branded. Gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut,
he swallowed down the urge to punch the guy. It was all part of it.

Opening his eyes, he was forced to take a step back when Amy
placed herself between Tasha and him. He wasn’t the only one to step back.
Amy’s action caused Tasha to stumble back on her heels. Mace heard Romeo’s low
whistle, before glancing over his shoulder to see Romeo running the back of his
thumb across his throat, signaling  Amy was about to throttle Tasha. He felt
sorry for the girl, he had been on the other end of Amy’s anger, but Tasha
deserved it. He hadn’t asked for or welcomed her advances at any time.

Amy moved to stand beside Mace, a smile that spoke volumes
of danger plastered on her lips. She took ahold of his arm and dug her nails
into the muscle just below the gauze hidden by his t-shirt.

How the hell was it, that no one ever touched his arm until
it was wounded? It was like having a built in homing beacon that screamed, “Yo!
Touch me! My person may drop to the ground and cry like a bitch, but it’d be
funny!”