Mayhem (Dauntless MC Book 3) by Steele Suzanne

Author:Steele, Suzanne [Steele, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: H.I.P. Publishing
Published: 2019-09-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chito paced the wood floors of the country house like a wild animal penned in a cage. He didn’t like the way he was feeling; having second doubts was never a good thing. It had never crossed his mind that junky could have been the thief even though he’d been holding the gun that killed Coochy. He took a moment to stop pacing and stood at the window looking out towards the woods. The trees were alive with vibrant colors of green leaves, and squirrels jumped from limb to limb playing. When he’d first seen the property, he couldn’t imagine living in the country. Over time, the place had grown on him. There was something about the privacy that radiated a peace he’d never felt anywhere else. The wildlife was as vast as the land stretched out before him; foxes, snakes, squirrels, racoons, and skunks were just some of the smaller game that inhabited the place he’d come to love. Being in the country wasn’t so bad after all; neighbors stayed to themselves and the gate at the front of his property ensured no unwanted visitors could bother him. Sometimes he would walk through the woods and listen to the sounds that blended into a perfect symphony of harmony. He’d always lived in the city; he’d formed the habit of looking over his shoulder long ago. Here, there were no gangbangers, no loud traffic, and no cops pulling you over for whatever reason. This was the kind of place that could make a man think about going straight; even a man like Chito. Even his woman and kids liked it here which was a miracle in itself; the bitch complained about everything. Here, she was actually nice because she liked the house and said she finally had a home. Who’d have thought domesticating her ass would have made her happy? The children had plenty of space to run off energy. There was a fort, goats, ATVs, and bikes. There was never a dull moment of boredom, and they didn’t have their faces stuck in iPods and smart phones. Chito had made the decision he was going to buy the place and maybe look at retirement if the cartel would let him out. He wanted to raise his kids in God’s country.

Chito had gone back to the stash house and the junkie had been gone as if he’d never been there; the gun was gone, too. It wasn’t like him to overlook things, but it had made sense that the bikers were responsible. Now, he was beginning to wonder if he’d been too quick to believe the junkie. There was no better liar than a junkie. He mentally kicked himself for not considering both options. In his line of work, nothing was as it seemed. He didn’t like being put in the middle of a situation he didn’t choose. He was tired—not physically—but the kind of tired that got in your bones and made you want to quit. He felt like an old man; like the years had been so unkind that he’d never recover.

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