Page 1 of Reconciling the Consequences

Pain.ThatwasallJohnathan “Mayhem” Taylor knew. Fists pummeled his torso unchecked. He brought his arms up to block his head but left his torso exposed.

He deserved every punch. Every kick. Every damn hit that pummeled him. He deserved it all.

“Come on, asshole.” Derrick “Devil” Halson growled. “Fight back you pussy.”

Johnny swung out blindly with a gloved fist. It connected with a thud, and a slight hiss emanated from Kevin “Rockstar” Adams, his best friend and brother in the MC.

Another punch caught Johnny in the ribs. “That all you got?” Kevin goaded. “Where’d the big man go? The one who called our girl a whore?” He spat through clenched teeth.

Johnny opened his eyes, a growl ripping from his chest. He jabbed with his right fist, knocking Kevin across the jaw. Johnny blocked with his left arm as Derrick aimed another punch to his rib cage.

“There we go.” Derrick nodded, clapping his fists together.

The crowd surrounding the regulation MMA octagon was massive and cheered loudly from the stepped concrete platforms around the room that gave everyone a great view of the ring. The Pit—the building that housed the ring they were currently fighting in—was the holy grail of the Ravager Knights compound and hosted MMA fights twice a year.

Today was not about that, though. Today was about a wrong that needed to be righted. A respect paid to his best friends, his brothers.

He had screwed upagain. He had wronged them and their woman.

Now she was lying in the hospital fighting for her life while they had no way of knowing if she was even alive. Someone had tried to kill her. Someone had tried to kill their woman in her own home.

It was unacceptable. They had left her unprotected.

They had put her in danger by keeping her in the dark. They had left her defenseless while issuing a club-wide lockdown. They had called in clubs from almost every state because their club was under attack. The Pit was full of out-of-town brothers from charters across the country. San Jose, Oakland, Las Vegs, Salt Lake City, Cheyenne, Boulder, Omaha, Cedar Rapids, Texarkana, Shreveport.

Johnny had put her in danger. He was acting president of the Ravager Knights Mourningside charter while his father, Mac “King” Taylor, sat in county jail accused of crimes he did not commit: racketeering, embezzlement, money laundering, and fraud.

Someone had framed him using a company that he had registered forty years ago.

Life was in shambles around Johnny, but it had been his responsibility to protect his club, his brothers, his woman.

He had failed.

A sucker punch landed across his right eye, and his head spun from the impact.

This was their way, though. He would let his brothers publicly beat his ass to take a piece of that disrespect back.

He had told them both what happened to her as soon as he’d returned from her house, after he had pulled her out of the burning building and left her on the front lawn. He’d also informed them of the body he had found with multiple bullet wounds at the bottom of her basement stairs.

Derrick had decked him right away, but Kevin had held Derrick back from delivering the ass-kicking that Johnny deserved. For the second time in the last two months, Kevin had told Johnny, “I’ll see you in the ring.”

Here they were a full twenty-four hours later, on display for all their brethren, to right a wrong. Johnny honestly didn’t know if it would even be enough; his grievance had been too steep.

Another punch landed across his jaw; his bottom lip caught between his teeth and split open, blood flying. He groaned and finally snapped out of his pity party. “Fucking finally.” Kevin snapped after Johnny got a punch in.

Things moved quickly after that. Johnny and Kevin had both trained in mixed martial arts as children. Their fathers had both been in the club and the Marines together; they saw the added benefit of starting their boys young.

Kicks and jabs, combo after combo, dodges and hits, the three of them continued until the sweat was pouring down and they were barely able to stand.

Johnny would not be the one to end this fight—it would be up to Kevin and Derrick. They had called the fight, they were the ones slighted.Two of the three I wronged,anyway.

He would have to grovel for the rest of his life, and even then, he didn’t think that would be enough for what Kara deserved.

MarcosCandelaloungedinan uncomfortable hospital chair at Mourningside General Hospital in central Mourningside, Illinois. His knee bounced anxiously as he scrolled through his phone.

As next of kin, he had received the phone call from a nurse when his sister, Kara Carmichael, had been brought in three days before with multiple injuries.

Marcos was still wrapping his mind around the fact that his baby sister had been attacked in her home. She had somehow fought off her attacker and killed him—a man that was easily twice her size.

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