Deceived

Bedlam

Keepers of Bedlam Motorcycle Club

by Camilla Isles

Copyright 2016 Camilla Isles

All rights reserved.

All characters engaging in sexual activities are 18 years of age or older.

Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

This book is for mature audiences only.

Prologue

The moonlight cast an ethereal glow through the trees of the Madison County Forestry. The sounds of the night included chirping tree frogs that welcomed animal visitors like deer to bed down for the evening. Only tonight was different. The tree frogs refrained from their nightly dialogue as deer scattered and squirrels barked from their nests high in the trees. An invader had entered their world, someone who didn’t belong.

One vehicle stopped on the dirt road and four men emerged. A trunk lid opened and the bright light from a flashlight cut a swath through the dark night. The light settled on a man bound and gagged inside the trunk. He grunted and struggled to no avail. A rope thrown over the nearest tree branch had a loop at the end. The man struggled as the loop went over his head and encircled his neck. A white poster board with a string attached to both sides was also placed around the man’s neck.

The four men hoisted the bound man up high enough so his feet couldn’t reach the ground. They wrapped the other end of the rope to a nearby tree and watched as the man slowly suffocated to death. They checked his wrist for a pulse, then climbed into the SUV and left.

Soon the tree frogs were chirping their happy tune once more as the squirrels looked curiously at their new visitor. As the moonlight streamed through the trees, it rested on a patch on the now dead man’s cut. It said VP Keepers of Bedlam.

Chapter One

“You’ve got a package here,” Dog Breath yelled to Eli who had just entered the bar. Eli’s motorcycle club, the Keepers of Bedlam, owned the bar out on Route 21. Eli was young to be President of the KOB, but his father passed on the gavel to his son, with the approval of the club, since he could no longer ride due to chemo treatments. Big Daddy, his club nickname, was dying from colon cancer. Should have had that damn probe stuck up my butt years ago, he thought bitterly, but he had no one to blame but himself. While the chemo might extend his life, it also increased the torture of day-to-day living that included nausea and restless nights.

Big Daddy sat at the table and waved his son Eli over to sit with him. Eli grabbed the box from Dog Breath, a prospect who was tending bar. Eli was a tall drink of water, with short black hair. His broad shoulders, washboard abs, and tattooed chest made all the girls sigh with desire. Although he hadn’t claimed an old lady as of yet, it wasn’t from lack of trying, but no one had hit the mark for Eli. Sure, the ladies were sexy and gave good head, but Eli knew he wanted more than just window dressing. He was 33 and looking to settle down, but the young gals were too juvenile and there weren’t too many mature women around who felt comfortable affiliated with a motorcycle club.

He sat down next to his dad. “How’s it going Pop? How ya feelin today?”

“Not too bad,” Big Daddy shifted in his chair. “I might be able to keep down a shot of Jim Beam today.”

Eli smiled. He knew his Dad was dying and that alcohol would likely be detrimental to his chemo treatment, but if Jim Beam made him feel better right now, what the hell.

Eli flipped open the blade of his pocketknife and opened the package. He thought it was likely a sample of beer or whiskey that manufacturers often send to the bar so the owner might start supplying it. But that’s not what it was. He pulled out a helmet with the initials K. W. on it. It was Krank’s helmet, Vice President of the KOBMC. Attached to the helmet was a note that read, “Payback.” A map was drawn on the remainder of the note indicating a pot of gold at the end.

“Fuck!” Eli exclaimed.

“What is it son?” Big Daddy asked.

“The Hell Hounds have Krank.” Eli answered. He turned around to the other members in the bar and said, “Load up boys, we’re on a treasure hunt but I don’t think we’re going to like what we find. Dog, call DD and Blaze to meet us down at The Copper Door.”

The Copper Door was a steakhouse the club members visited when they felt a carnivorous craving. The establishment was a bit on the hoity-toity side so the boys would usually sit in the bar to eat. But there wasn’t any fine dining today; it was a meeting point closest to the Madison Forestry.

Chapter Two

Alexia stared at the computer screen in front of her, attempting to figure out the mosh-posh of figures on the monitor. She was sent to manage The Copper Door when the last manager funneled money from the restaurant’s reserves to his own bank account. The numbers were skewed and she didn’t know how it would ever make sense, but that was her job. Figure out how much money the idiot screwed them out of and manage the restaurant as well.

It would have been nice if the company had sent an associate down to help
, she thought bitterly. But why pay another person when they could heap it all on her and then bitch when it isn’t finished fast enough. Basic corporate America…long may she prosper.
Well, they can all kiss my rosy ass
Alexia thought as she jumped up from her chair, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her purse, and marched out of her back office.

She was 29 going nowhere fast. After gaining a college business degree she thought she’d rule the world, but the backhanded crap dealt to underlings like her was enough to destroy any rose colored glasses she was viewing the world through the last 6 years. But she was stuck, at least for the time being until she could pay off school loans and bills her ex had racked up on her credit cards. Alexia was too proud to claim bankruptcy, so she’d suck it up at least for another couple of years until she could find her real destiny before she got much older.

Alexia's first marriage was a disaster right out of the gate. She thought about backing out at the last minute, but with the money already invested, she secretly hoped it was just her imagination that her betrothed was becoming more distant as the wedding day approached. Unfortunately, it didn't get better after the wedding bells rang, instead it only became worse. She filed for divorce one year later after enduring months of a deadbeat husband who didn't work but had not difficulty racking up the bills. While Alexia was in no rush to find another man, she was lonely and the feeling only deepened when she laid in her bed at night.

The restaurant didn’t open until 4pm and it was noon now. However, the cooks were in the back getting the evening’s meal prep ready. Alexia, better known as Lexi, walked through the kitchen.

“Hey Momma, how’s it going?” Raul said as Lexi entered through the slit open kitchen doors. Raul was the head cook, a Mexican born immigrant who acquired his citizenship when he was 20 years old. He was 40 years old with a family of four now, two already in college.

“Hey Raul,” Lexi answered sticking her cigarette in the air. “Does that answer your question?”

“Uh oh--doesn’t look good. How about I cram a meat fork in your computer and we’ll call it done?” Raul said with a big grin.

“I might just take you up on that big guy.” Lexi liked Raul; they had a mutual affection society going on. Raul was a hard worker and cooked a mean Beef Wellington. She knew he worked on the side to afford to get his kids through college while his wife worked as a maid at one of the dump motels in town. But he was always smiling. I could learn a few things from this man, she thought.

Lexi walked out into the bright sunshine behind the restaurant and sat down at the picnic table set up for the employees during breaks. She sat with her back to the sun, enjoying the warmth radiating onto the tight muscles on her neck and back. She lit her cigarette, took a long drag, and closed her eyes. Then she heard the low rumble. She opened her eyes and looked in the direction the noise was coming from. She could see motorcycles in the distance and it looked like quite a few of them. Then she heard a rumble from the opposite direction as two more bikes pulled into The Copper Door’s parking lot. Then the herd from the other direction slowed down to pull into the lot as well.

“Well fuck,” she muttered. “I can’t have a pack of bikers meeting here whenever they want.”

The group dismounted from their bikes and were talking to one another, oblivious to the woman in the brown skirt, cream-colored blouse, and high heels walking towards them.

“They’ve got Krank,” Eli said to the others. “No way he’d let this helmet out of his sight.” He held up the helmet, which was well worn and a gift from his old lady who had died from breast cancer the previous year. She had it monogrammed with Krank’s initials.

“Here’s a map that came with the helmet. I have a feeling we’ll find Krank there. Let’s just hope he’s still alive when we do.” Eli said.

“You think it’s the Hell Hounds,” asked Blaze. Blaze was one of the older crew members, around 50 with a shock of gray hair but still built iron tough. He joined the KOBMC at the same time as Big Daddy, Eli’s father, and Krank.

“I do,” Eli answered.

“Um, excuse me,” Lexi said to no one in particular. “This parking lot isn’t a meeting hall for bikers and we’re not open yet. You’ll need to find another place to have your little assembly.”

The bikers turned and looked at Lexi, then turned back around to continue their discussion. Lexi was already having a bad day and putting her on mute was not going to cut it.

“Hey you bunch of road kill! Get your leather asses on those hogs and hightail it out of here! This is private property and I’m the manager of this shit hole so take a hike.” Damn that felt good. Now she had their full attention as they all turned to look at her. Well it felt good for like 2 seconds.

From within the group a man stepped forward. He was tall and slender, with broad shoulders. He took off his sunglasses and looked a lot like Bradley Cooper, the actor, if he had black hair. Lexi had never seen anyone that gorgeous before, but then she’d been around middle-aged suits with beer guts the last few years.

“Are we bothering you darlin,” Eli said. His voice was smooth, like a velvet blanket.

“Well, yes you are,” Lexi said, trying to gather the strength in her voice once again. “It doesn’t look good for business if you use the parking lot for your meetings.”

“This is just a one time thing,” Eli said. “We’re leaving right now. You know we do give this place some business though, so is it alright if we ride our bikes here when we’re hungry and want a steak?”

“Of course,” Lexi answered. “Sorry for the intrusion. I didn’t know how long you were going to park here. It’s been a shitty day.”

“Yep, I know what you mean,” Eli replied, knowing it could get much worse. “We won’t do this again, I promise.”

Eli liked what he saw, a striking woman with long brown hair who wasn’t afraid to stand up to a bunch of bikers. He could tell she was smart too. But he had other pressing issues to get to now and this would have to wait.

Eli stuck out his hand and said, “The name is Eli Lawrence.”

“Nice to meet you Eli. I’m Alexia Montgomery, but everyone calls me Lexi.” She took his hand and shook it.

“Sorry we got off on the wrong foot,” Eli said. “We’ll be going now.”

“Come back when we’re open and you boys can enjoy a good meal.”

“I thought you said this place was a shit hole,” DD said and the group chuckled.

“It’s a shit hole with good steak,” Lexi answered and the boys laughed. It got their mind off club business for a minute, but their minds immediately returned to the map and Krank.

“Let’s go Eli,” Blaze said. Eli nodded to Lexi and turned to walk back to his bike. Lexi admired the view of Eli’s tight ass jeans. She watched them ride off and thought,
this day just got better.
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t for the KOBMC.