Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1

by Manda Mellett

  “We’ll take them home and meet you back at the compound.” The girls throw a look at each other and then nod. Going home must seem like a fucking good idea to them.

  I turn to Viper and Shooter, wary there might be something going on in Tucson tonight that we’re still unaware of and wanting to take every precaution. “You travel together. Drop the younger one off first. Fuck, how do her parents not know she’s missing?” How would you groom such a young girl?

  Viper seems to know what I’m thinking. “We’ll get Mouse to look into their backgrounds, but for now, let’s get them back to their folks. They’ll be safe enough there for tonight.

  “Discretely though, Brothers. No ringing of door bells. Just let them get inside.”

  Archer’s still immobilised, so Rope and Cuff start cleaning up, looking for spent bullets or anything else that would show we were here. While they do their bit, I stare at the man kneeling on the floor. Suddenly, I can’t keep a rein on my curiosity any longer.

  Going to the cop, I put my hands on his skull, pulling his head back so I’m staring into his face. “What’s the story with Heart’s kid? Why the fuck are you so intent on putting her in the hands of a fuckin’ junkie?”

  Archer tries to pull his head out of my hands. “You’re going to have to let me go,” he screams. “I’m the only one who can put a stop to her being taken away from you. You want the brat, you let me loose.”

  Is that true? Not sure Drum’s going to like it if it is. Fuck, I wish I’d been able to get through to him on the phone. Releasing Archer, I try to call him again. Still no fucking answer, and the prospect and the truck will still be some ways out.

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “Want me to give him some incentive?” Crash is rubbing his hands together.

  I nod. It wouldn’t’ hurt. Drum will be fine with that, as long as we don’t damage the goods too much.

  Seeing a stranger approach with a knife in his hands, Archer panics and tries to get away, but trussed as he is, he just falls on his ass again. Crash moves fast, moving behind him and putting his knife to Archer’s neck.

  “Don’t hurt me!” the coward cries as the blade presses in and a trickle of blood starts to run down. “I’ll tell you, alright? The bitch of the grandmother, Clyde. She’s well into the Herreras for drugs. Couldn’t pay up. She said she had a grandkid she’d be willing to give up.”

  I step closer, Crash digs his knife in some more. “Kid’s got parents.” I watch as Archer swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs precariously close to Crash’s knife. He’s hiding something. “How could a junkie give you a kid that wasn’t hers to give?” I’m starting to smell a strong odour of fish. My heart misses a beat. It couldn’t be. Could it? Then the more I think about it, the more it fucking adds up.

  I move closer to the man lying back on his ass. “When did she make you the offer?”

  Archer stays quiet.

  “I asked you a fuckin’ question.” I nod at Crash who presses the knife in again. Archer tries to jerk away. I take another step toward him and say, menacingly, “Drum might want the kid, but whether she stays or goes makes no difference to me.” I’m lying through my teeth but he doesn’t know that. “I don’t give a damn if I take out a dirty cop. So, tell me! When did she make the fuckin’ offer?” Yeah, I can do intimidating when I need to.

  “Six weeks ago!” Archer cries out.

  Fuck it! I’m right! But I still need to make sure. “Yeah,” I prompt, “you got fuckin’ lucky when Heart and Crystal had that accident which made that kid all but an orphan.” Taking a step forward, I aim a kick into his balls. As he folds over, Crash is only just able to change the position of the knife at his throat in time. He gives me a quick grin, and I can’t help smiling back. Wouldn’t have bothered me if his throat got cut. Except, I reckon there’s more he can tell us. And of course, Drum might object.

  “Thing is, Detective, I don’t believe in coincidences.” Six weeks ago, Crystal was alive, and Heart still functioning.

  Recovering sufficient breath to speak, Archer looks up and actually smirks. “You fucking bikers think you’re invincible, riding around on your death traps, preening yourselves that your gang rules the roads. Two wheelers ain’t got much chance against four.”

  Crash exchanges a look with me, clearly sharing my growing suspicion. He pulls back Archer’s head, and now speaks. “Reckon you’ve got more to tell us, Archer. I might not kill you, but I can put you in a whole world of hurt. You see my brother here? He wants some fuckin’ answers. Now either you tell us everything you know, or you’re gonna lose a fuckin’ eye.” He places the tip of his knife against Archer’s left eyelid. “You can choose to tell us everything, or I’ll give you another fuckin’ choice to make. Left or right.”

  Archer goes white, the threat more than sufficient. He quickly starts spitting it all out. “I put the word out on Heart, got the patrols looking for him. It was only a matter of time until he left the compound. Officers called it in one Saturday afternoon. He was getting onto the I-10 at Tombstone, and there was only one direction he could be heading.”

  If it was up to me, Archer would be needing an eyepatch by now, but I force myself to remember Drum will want him whole. Like a scab I can’t help scratching, I probe for more. Even though every word out of this bastard’s mouth is making me sick.

  “You arranged for him to be taken out?”

  A prod with the knife’s tip and Archer keeps spilling. “It took me by surprise, didn’t have time to arrange anyone else to do the hit so I did it my-fucking-self. Fucking piece of cake. Grabbed one of the trucks off the Herrera compound, easily big enough to take out a bike. He didn’t suspect a fucking thing as I came up behind him, only gave a quick look back as I was coming up so fast. Lucky for me, he had his wife up behind him. Thought I was going to have to do it in two hits. But I killed two birds with one stone.” He looks pleased with himself, and then he laughs.

  Seeing nothing but red I breathe in and hold it. “You fuckin’ killed Crystal.” So enraged, it’s hard to get the words out. He’d left Heart in God knows what state. Almost without me being aware of it, my hand holding the gun rises.

  Archer follows my movement with his eyes. “You can’t kill me! Not if you want the kid!” He repeats what he previously warned me.

  But all I can see is Crystal alive, happy and laughing, that thought juxtaposed with the sight of her coffin being lowered into the ground. My cheeks burn, the room starts to suffocate me.

  “Slick!” Crash shouts a warning at me.

  But my arm keeps moving, my fingers twitch on the trigger.

  “Don’t, Slick!” Crash yells again.

  But nothing can stop me applying a little more pressure. My aim is sure, a bullet flies out and I shoot straight at his groin. Archer goes white and slumps forward, blood pouring out.

  “What the fuck, man?” Crash looks horrified. “Drum could have your patch for this.”

  Part of me is devastated with what I’d done. The other part feels no remorse, except for the fact he didn’t suffer more. I’ve killed the man who murdered my brother’s wife.

  The cop’s body is twitching. “Christ, Slick.” Crash takes matters into his own hands, and slits Archer’s throat. There’s no way he’d come back from that injury, and no longer any point taking him to the compound.

  Fuck. The bloody body on the floor brings me back to my senses. What the fuck is Prez going to say? My eyes meet Crash’s. “Look, I fuckin’ lost it, alright? Heart, fuck. Heart didn’t deserve that. And he ran Heart off the road so he could get hold of the kid? That’s fuckin’ deep shit, Brother. He laughed! He fuckin’ laughed!” Echoes of Archer’s proud mirth seem to be all I can hear.

  Crash quickly moves across to me, his hand touches my arm. “I understand, Brother. I’d have made the same call for one of our own. Fuck, it was hard for me to hear it, and I don’t know Heart or Crystal. I’m just fuckin’ concerned what your prez will say. What if he was
telling the truth, and he was the only chance for Drum to keep hold of the kid?”

  Now it’s over, it sinks in what I’ve done, and how much I’ve fucked up.

  Crash tries to be supportive. “Slick, I’ll tell Drummer how it went down, and how that fucker wound you up. At least we did what we came for.” He points to a body lying at the back of the room. “We took Lucas out, he won’t be torturing and abusing any more young kids.” Ignoring the dead man without a dick, I look past him to the man Crash pointed out. The VP’s right. His features match the photos Mouse had provided, and which I’d committed to memory. Not so much the deep hole in his chest. I should have checked that first, that we’d killed the man we’d come for... Fuck, there’s a reason I’m not officer material.

  “Let’s finish up.” Crash signals to Rope and Cuff, who’ve been silent but watching, then leads me outside. As we get back to the bikes, Road pulls up in the truck. The Vegas VP takes charge, walking over and saying some words. Road turns around and starts driving back.

  On automatic pilot, I lay out the explosives and set the timer. We’re riding away as the whole place blows sky high. It will take weeks for them to put the all the pieces together. And yes, I do mean human parts.

  For once I don’t feel the pride I normally do in my handiwork. Prez could take my patch.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Ella…

  This clubhouse seems strange and my bed feels so empty. No matter how I arrange the pillows, I can’t forget something, someone, is missing. I’ve been lying here for what seems like hours, but I can’t seem to sleep. Just tossing and turning, consumed with worry about Slick. What’s he doing right now? Is he safe? Looking at the clock, it’s only just turned three. A long time until morning.

  Slick had rung me earlier in the evening, but in many respects, I wish I hadn’t had that last conversation with him. He’d tried too hard, had sounded too upbeat, was too concerned for my welfare, and took far too long saying goodbye. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines. It would take an idiot to be oblivious that there’s something happening tonight. Something which my gut tells me could put Slick in danger. He told me he loved me three times during the call, so insistently as though making sure I’d never forget, burning the words onto my brain.

  I can’t lose him now. He’s brought me back to life and back to the living. It scares me just how much I want the opportunity to have a future with him, prepared to go the whole hog, for us to be family, to have our own children. I bite into my hand to smother a cry. In the dead of the night, I’m terrified the odds are against us, and the chance I now want might be taken away.

  I’ve never been warned by a premonition before, nothing alerted me when I took that first step into the Rock Demons’ club. But tonight, foreboding has taken hold of me, making me believe my chance to make a life with Slick has even now been taken away. I want to call him. I can’t. What if he is in the middle of something dangerous and I distract him?

  The air conditioner not as efficient as that back in Tucson. It rattles and clunks but still doesn’t do its job. I kick off the sheets and put my legs over the side of the bed, giving up any hope of sleep. Slipping into my flip-flops, I glance in the mirror, my sleep shorts and tank cover all the important bits, and should be sufficient in this clubhouse, where for the last two days all the men I’ve met have treated me with respect. But remembering some might still be strangers to me, I slip on my property cut, pulling the leather around me and breathing in the scent which reminds me of Slick. With my nostrils full of his perfume, I leave my room.

  The clubhouse is quieter than it is by day, various grunts and groans escaping from rooms that I pass suggesting the sweet butts are doing the jobs they’re there for. I grin to myself at the evil thought, that Jill, who deceived me with her trounced-up version of what she does, might be having to satisfy Titch with a blow job. I smile at myself having the mental image of her head bobbing up and down on his shrivelled prick, working, possibly for hours, until she brings him off. God, I’m bad. While it doesn’t overshadow my worry, I find the thought amusing and put my hand over my mouth as a giggle threatens to escape.

  Walking down the back way, avoiding the main clubroom, I come to the kitchen, a welcoming modern area with stainless-steel counters and appliances, and then my feet falter. To my surprise, I’m not the only one here.

  Red, the Vegas president, breaks off from his conversation with Sophie and nods as I enter. “Can’t sleep?”

  “No. I wanted some water.” I grasp at a valid excuse for wanting to get out of my room.

  Sophie grins at me and raises a glass, making me a far better offer. “How about some wine instead? It may give you a headache tomorrow, but it will help you get some shut-eye.”

  Fuck the hangover. “Count me in.” As she tips the bottle over a fresh glass, I notice Red’s got his hands wrapped around a beer. Sophie toasts me with her water, being pregnant she’s unable to drink.

  “You alright, Ella?” He’s watching me carefully. Oh yeah, everyone knows I’m a panicking freak.

  “I’m fine, Red. You run a good club.” After reassuring him, I give him the reason I’m still up. “I’m just a bit restless.”

  Sophie’s sympathetic eyes meet mine, and she nods. “You’re worried about Slick. I know how you feel. I’m concerned for Wraith. There’s something going on, I can sense it.” Sophie stares down into her glass as though wishing she had something stronger in it. That I’m not the only one fretting doesn’t exactly help.

  Red combs his fingers through his tussled ginger hair and looks exasperated, as though he was having this conversation when I walked in. “Ladies, just trust your men. They know what they’re doing. They’ll be in touch as soon as they can.” He stares at us, but his words don’t really offer much comfort. “You’re not doing any good worrying yourselves sick.” He’s right, but just saying it doesn’t help. He glances between us, then tries another tack. “Ella, Soph, let’s talk about tomorrow. Think it’s time we got you to the strip, don’t you?”

  Appreciating his attempt to change the subject, I perch my backside on a stool, glad now I didn’t stay in bed. Having company and talking about something different has to be better than stewing on my own. Remembering the money Slick gave me, I start looking forward to spending it. Maybe a shopping trip? “That sounds like a great idea, Red. Might as well see the sights while we’re here.”

  “Sin City,” he chuckles. “No one can resist. Anything in particular you ladies want to head for?”

  “Hey! This where the party is?” Sandy comes in, closely followed by Carmen whose hand is over her face as she smothers a yawn. “Any more wine in that bottle?”

  Playing the host, Red gets up and finds more glasses. “We were just discussing what you want to do tomorrow.”

  Sophie pauses to smile at the newcomers, but when answering Red doesn’t even pause to think. “I’d like to go to the Harley store, pick something up for Wraith.”

  I’ve always wanted to visit Vegas and know exactly what I want to do. “I want to see the Bellagio fountains. Maybe go on that ride, what’s it called, the one that wraps around the high building?”

  Red’s eyes widen. “The Stratosphere? Best we take Twister with us in that case. He’s the only one fool enough to go on that.”

  “You’re on your own there, El.” Sophie shudders. “I’d never dream of it. I’d die.” Carmen and Sandy agree, giving me a horrified glance.

  “She might.” Red raises his bottle toward me. I grin back, surprisingly I’ve got nerves of steel on terrifying rides.

  As Sophie doesn’t looked convinced, Red offers another option. “Fancy your luck at the casinos?” He winks.

  I shoot him a look. “We’re in Vegas, duh, not much point in being here if we don’t. Hey, Sandy, any more of that wine?” She gives me a refill and tops off her own glass.

  “What’s going on, guys?” Sam smothers a yawn as she walks into the kitchen, her eagle eyes spying the wine straigh
t away. “Enjoying yourselves, ladies?” She pouts as she adds, “Shame I can’t join you.” She opens the fridge, takes out a carton and pours orange juice for herself then raises her glass in a toast.

  “We’re planning what to do tomorrow,” I explain.

  “Great, I couldn’t sleep.” She hitches her butt onto a stool. “So, where we going to?”

  Red throws up his hands. “Fuck if I know. It sounds like you girls will have us all marching up and down the strip all day.”

  I nudge Sam. “Better wear comfortable shoes.”

  Red shakes his head in mock exasperation.

  Sam chuckles. “You’ll have to forgive us out-of-towners if we’re too enthusiastic. Coming from Washington, I’ve never been to Vegas before.”

  “Sandy and Carmen have.” Sophie points at the women she’s named who nod their heads. “But I’ve come bloody further than you, Sam. A few months ago, I couldn’t have dreamed of having the chance.”

  Yup, Sophie’s got her beat, coming from the United Kingdom.

  We talk about what we might like to do a little longer, listening to suggestions Red makes, then the conversation falters.

  Suddenly Sophie puts down her glass and looks intently at the Vegas prez. “How are we expected to do this, Red?”

  “To do what?” He sounds casual, but his penetrating eyes staring back suggest he knows exactly what she means.

  Sophie shrugs and waves her hand between me and Sam. “We’re three new old ladies. I’ve barely been one for six months. How are we expected to wait for our men, not knowing anything that’s going on, because it’s ‘club business’?” She uses air quotes for the last two words.

  Red leans on the counter. “You know there are good reasons why you’re kept in the dark.”

  “Well, it’s certainly not to keep us from worrying. Not knowing is worse.” Sophie sounds petulant.

  Carmen comes over and puts her hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “Don’t think it is, hon. If we knew what was going on, we’d be just as concerned and still couldn’t do a darn thing about it. What good would it do? It’s to protect our men. Think about it. If you know nothing, you can’t say anything to hurt them, you know, in case there’s ever any blowback from the police.”