Miss Mayhem

ix. first five

ix. first five

     "SO, HOW LONG has Mayhem been around?"  Rinn asked as she laid in Denver's bed, watching him as he paced around the room, staring down at the screen of his cell phone.  He looked up at her with caution before turning his face down, again and speaking.

"It's been quite awhile and to be honest, I don't really know exactly how long we've been around.  I would guess between fifty and seventy years but you would have to ask Jackson or his father on that one," Denver said, extending his answer so it would give her less time to ask questions.

"How long have you been involved?"  She asked, eyeing him through suspicion.  He half-smirked and turned his head towards her, watching as her fingers pulled at the fabric threads in the blanket she was sitting on.  She didn't look away from her hands, even though she felt his eyes on her.

"It's been almost eight years now since I first got tossed into the club.  Jackson isn't an original member, either . . .  The club originally belonged to the Redwoods.  Neither of the daughters wanted to take the president seat when their father passed away, though, and their mother was already too far gone by the time Duncan was old enough to gain her permission," Denver was still smirking when he looked away.

"Jackson was the closest to their father and he left him the patch when he found out his daughter's wouldn't step up to the gavel," Denver shrugged.  "As far as I'm concerned, the club has gone far down the drain since Jackson took charge.  There have been far too many inside problems.  If the external members or the free loaders were to find out about the problems Jackson has been having to handle, they would turn their backs on him, too."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"  He asked, eyeing her eyes her green orbs came up to meet his blue ones, "Are you asking about the internal struggles or about the other members that aren't central to Mayhem?"

"Both, I guess," she shrugged.

"Well," Denver began, sitting down on the bed near where her feet we laying, "We've had members turn.  Jackson's pa was killed by a member's gun; the serial number belonged to one of Jackson's uncles.  The only problem is his uncle was inside at the time his father was killed and he hasn't found out who it was since."

"I see . . . "  She slowly said, not knowing if she realized how serious the club was to Jackson and Denver, "And what about the external members?  Why would they give a rat's ass if there were internal problems?"

"You really don't know how this works, do you?"  He asked, causing her to shake her head back and forth.  He groaned, taking in a deep breathe and letting his body fall back into the mattress, plopping himself down and getting comfortable before he continued.

"Let me tell you a story," he said before delving into Mayhem's history.

"The first five included the Redwood girls' grandfather, Jackson's grandfather, Jackson's uncle, a man named Thomas Helter and his wife, Lisa Helter.  The Helter's are Cain's parents," Denver explained, introducing them with his fingers.  Every time he said a name, one of them flew up and stole a spot in the first five.

"They needed quick cash and after their first gun run, they were hooked . . . as we all are.  There's something about the way we live that attracts us.  It pulls us in and it gets us lost inside.  It's a bad way for good people and it changes men . . . and their old ladies with it," he paused and lit a cigarette before continuing.

"Plans grew from being simple to being complex.  Thomas pushed the club further into the gun running business and Jackson's uncle pushed them further into muling the drugs.  The Redwood girls' grandfather wanted out of all of it.  He didn't plan to get in bed with the Mexicans or the Canadians . . . but once the deals were made and the orders were being filled, there wasn't any way for him to turn his back on them," Denver stated, taking a puff of his cigarette before handing it to Rinn, careful not to touch her.