“Painfully,” Salem promises, but adds, “but not before I talk to them.” The enforcer has his own particular ways of conducting a conversation.
I lower my head into my hands. “Just because there’s one bad apple that turned up, doesn’t mean there’s more. But I take the point, it could be the whole darn barrel. Keep eyes and ears open. I don’t think you’re right, Bones, but still, we can’t just dismiss it.” I’ve had too much bad news already today, like the woman I’d like warming my bed is actively being sought by a drug lord. I pick up the gavel and bang it. “Church dismissed.”
Quickly, before anyone can stop me and heap more problems onto my plate, I stand and walk to the door, covering the distance out to the clubroom in just a few short strides. The sound of a thumping beat meets my ears first, not unusual by itself, but I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and come to a dead halt. I’d been making my way toward the stairs, but now I find I won’t have to make the climb to find the woman I’m seeking.
I’d thought Patsy might be hiding in her room, unsure of her place in the clubhouse of an MC. Or, if she’d ventured downstairs, I’d find her sitting talking with the only person she knows here, her son. What I hadn’t expected to see was her in tight-fitting leggings wrapped around the fucking stripper pole with Alex obviously giving her a lesson.
Sure, she’s more ungainly than graceful as Alex tries to tell her what to do. As I watch her attempt to do as instructed, she fails, instead ending up sprawled in a heap on the floor, bent double with laughter.
I watch for a moment as she tries once again, admiring that she’s actually quite supple. It’s clear she hasn’t the faintest idea of technique, but tries valiantly to hold the pole, wrap her leg around it and spin, but she falls once again, and again finds it amusing. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen for years. Even more so than watching the strippers who, under Alex’s tutelage, have become quite proficient.
The sound of the men filing out of church disturbs her, and she gets to her feet, brushing herself off. When she spies me staring, her face glows red.
Discretely adjusting myself, I walk over, hoping my jeans are disguising the hard-on I’m now sporting.
“I, er… Alex was just showing me…”
“Fuckin’ sexy, babe.” I lean in close as I speak softly, then I turn to Alex and wink. “So, you’re going to make a pole dancer out of Patsy?”
Alex grins, and gestures to herself. “If I can do it, anyone can.”
She’s putting herself down. I frown, glad Dart hadn’t heard her. She’d learned to dance to put a spark into her non-existent love life with her now, thanks to us, dead ex. But whatever she could have done wouldn’t have worked—he’d only married her for money and never wanted her for herself. His abuse had worsened, and she’d taken off, running literally for her life. To support her and her sick kid, she’d applied for work at the Satan’s Devils strip club in Tucson. While on the surface she hadn’t appeared to be stripper material, and certainly didn’t want to take off all her clothes, they’d made concessions once they saw how good a dancer she was on that pole. She had customers lined up around the block.
One comment from her ex was all it had taken to make her doubt herself. Now she dances for her own enjoyment, and for Dart’s. It’s why he’s so adamant no other fucker should watch her, but I doubt there’s a man here who hasn’t sneaked in to watch.
No one could doubt how happy Alex and Dart are together. But it had been touch and go at one point. While Dart was kidding himself his feelings for her didn’t run deep, her ex had kidnapped her, tortured her and left her for dead. It was then he realised how much he really felt for her, and luckily, we were there to save her in time.
It’s strange how things turn out. That allowance that her parents were paying her ex to stay married to her? Well it stopped when we made sure he wasn’t going to bother her anymore or couldn’t as he was dead. They weren’t going to pay a cent when Alex committed the transgression of marrying a white man. Interracial marriages in their eyes was the ultimate sin.
The reminder that Dart had almost lost the woman he loved by being an ass gives me pause for thought. Am I risking doing the same thing? Should I be thinking of how I might be able to make this work, instead of trying to push my embryonic feelings for Patsy away? I can take things slow, see where it, if there even is a chance of being an it, leads. No need to rush into things.
“I’ll never be able to move like Alex.” Patsy’s grinning as she wipes her chalky hands on a rag seeming to be over her embarrassment. “I’m too old for a start. But it looks fun.”
“I’m trying to get back into shape,” Alex tells her. “I’m usually here in the mornings. Eva, or Cindy watch Isla—she’s my one-year-old daughter—for me, and I have some time to myself. They wear her out so she naps in the afternoons and it allows me to get on with some work.”
“Work? What do you do?” Patsy asks with interest.
“She’s the club’s lawyer,” I answer for her. “A fuckin’ good one at that.”
Patsy’s eyebrows rise as she takes in the information, but doesn’t comment on it. But I suspect the VP’s woman has gone up in her estimation. Instead, she asks a different question.
“Eva? Cindy? Are they old ladies as well?”
Alex giggles at the thought, which makes me grin. “Ah, no. I’m the only one of those. They’re club girls, but they’re mostly okay. Eva’s a nurse which can be handy.”
Alex could have been a bitch to the sweet butts, but apart from a rough start with Eva for which Dart takes all the blame, the two have become friends. Alex has never lorded it over them, saying each to their own. Dart’s mentioned she got very friendly with the strippers back in Tucson, so understands a girl’s got to do whatever she needs to get by. As long as they keep well away from Dart, she appears to have no problem with the girls and what they get up to with the brothers.
Now my dick has decided it’s going to behave, I remember why I approached her. “Patsy, I need to talk to you and Dan now. Where is he?”
“Upstairs, listening to music, I think. I’ll go and get him.”
“Prospect?” I yell, getting Wrangler’s attention. “Get Dan to come down here.”
I turn back to find Patsy grinning. “Useful.” She nods to where Wrangler’s taking the stairs two at a time.
A motorcycle engine starts, the sound bouncing off the windows, soon joined by more. Gradually the clubroom is emptying as some members return to whatever they were doing before I’d summoned them for church. Dusty and Scribe have obviously decided to call it a day, as they’re already propping up the bar, and Smoker walks past tossing his lighter in his hands as he goes outside to have a cigarette. I notice him glance toward Alex with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
Dan appears quickly, even preceding the prospect down the stairs. I nod at Dart and jerk my head, then the four of us retreat to my office.
“Has anything happened?” Patsy asks anxiously once she sits down.
I stare at her for a moment, regretting that I’m going to demolish the smile that dancing with Alex had put on her face. Taking a breath, I tell her straight, “Alder’s looking for you, Patsy.”
As far as she’s concerned, I’ve told her nothing new. “I know that. He thinks he’ll find Dan if he finds me.”
After glancing sideways at Dart, I shake my head and spell it out. “He’s not looking for Dan. He’s only searching for you. We’ve found nothing to suggest he thinks Dan is alive.”
Dan’s brow creases and he sits bolt upright. “Why? That doesn’t make sense. What would he want with Mom?” To his credit, he looks dismayed as if the news Alder’s searching for his mom is worse than his being the target himself. I find myself liking the kid even more.
Patsy’s looking equally confused. “I know nothing about him or his activities. I’ve avoided Phil as best I could since we divorced over eighteen years ago. As I had sole custody and he didn’t want to joint parent, we didn’t even
meet to discuss the kids. I knew Alder only while I was married, but I always detested the man and even then, had very little to do with him.”
“You said Alder came to the funeral, Mom.”
“He did.” She nods at her son. The pained look crossing her face tells me while the funeral had been a sham, it had still been painful. “It was the first time I’d seen him since before the divorce. He said nothing except not to expect anything from Phil’s will, that everything that was Phil’s would go to him now. It was amusing as it was only land. Phil’s house had by that time burned to the ground.”
Dart’s hands are steepled under his chin, and his elbows resting on his knees. He leans forward. “He left you nothing, Patsy?”
“Not a thing. I didn’t expect it. We’d been apart more years than we were married, and there was no love lost between us.”
The room goes quiet as we’re all lost in thought.
Chapter Twelve
Patsy
Apart from this compound being an old airfield and not a steel mill, when I’d gotten out of the truck, it was much as I’d expected. I’d stayed in the Pueblo clubhouse, so wasn’t surprised by what I found when I stepped inside. Subtle differences were visible, but it fit in with my image of an MC lair.
The VP’s wife’s pole dancing had been something I hadn’t expected, nor was the respect the men had showed by leaving her to dance by herself. She’d seemed lost in her own world. While noting I’ll have to politely introduce myself later at a more appropriate time, I listened to Lost instructing the prospect to take us to our rooms.
He wasted no time, indicating Dan and I should follow him up the stairs. Dan was directed to a room off to one side and he and his bag disappeared. The prospect carrying my much larger one, waved me further along the hallway.
The bedroom that had been assigned to me was plain, I noticed, glancing around when the prospect unlocked the door then left after pressing a key into my hand. It was utilitarian, and not particularly welcoming. There was an adjacent bathroom that’s plain and bare with a few cracked tiles, though clean. The bed simply functional, the sheets looked and smelled freshly laundered, though the mattress was thin and worn. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, I supposed. It’s not a place you’d want to stay in for anything more than its primary purpose, sleeping. After putting away the clothes I’d brought with me in the empty closet and unpacking my bathroom items, I sat on the bed for a while, then decided to get out my e-reader. But I couldn’t focus on the words and soon became bored.
After popping my head around the door of the room given to Dan, I saw he was content playing some game on his phone, so I decided to venture downstairs to the clubroom and nose around.
I’d gotten on okay with the bikers in the Colorado Satan’s Devils chapter, and nothing led me to suspect I’d find the San Diego members much different, so I only felt a little awkward as I descended the stairs, wondering if, by now, the room would be full of assorted men.
But as I reached the bottom of the staircase, instead of the loud rumble of voices, all I could hear was some muted clanking of bottles from where the prospect was restocking the bar, and music. I realised immediately that Alex must still be dancing.
Would she mind if I sneaked over to watch? I moved closer, not sure whether I should stay or go.
Alex seemed lost in her own world as she put more chalk on her hands and then went back on the pole, contorting herself around it. So rapt by her performance, as I drew nearer, I knocked against a chair and toppled it. After I hurriedly righted it, I saw she’d stopped.
“Hey, come over.” She beckoned to me, clearly not upset I’d been spying on her.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t. I was about finished for today. I was just trying to perfect a routine, but I’ll leave it for now. I tend to lose sense of time when I’m dancing.”
“I’m in awe, you know?” I waved toward the pole. “You’re incredible.”
She laughed and shrugged. “It’s just something I took to. It’s easy when you know how.”
There was something about this diminutive woman that I was taken by. She’s welcoming and friendly. As she pulled on a shirt over her tank top, I waited for her to ask the questions I was sure would come, but she didn’t ask anything that I couldn’t answer.
“Your room okay? I know it’s not much.”
“I’m just grateful to have some breathing space. As a stop gap, it’s fine. So,” I motioned toward her, “baby fat you said? How old’s your baby again?”
It was the right question. Like any mom, she was more than happy to talk about her daughter, Isla, and her son, Tyler, who’s nine. When she got out her phone to show me a photo, I saw her daughter was beautiful, her skin a gorgeous light coffee colour, and she had dark brown eyes. Her smile was to die for as well.
“She’s beautiful,” I commented completely truthfully. “Where is she now?”
“Eva’s playing with her upstairs.”
I glanced at the picture again, looking forward to meeting her in person. A pang went through me thinking Beth could make me a grandmother and I might never know. I’d never have pictures of any grandchildren I had to pass around, unless Dan found a woman and so far, he had shown no inclination to settle down. As tears pricked at my eyes, I made an effort to put such thoughts out of my mind, observing, “She looks like a happy baby.”
“Most of the time,” Alex responded, drily. “She has her moments though. She’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide. So, you ever thought about having a go yourself?” Alex nodded toward the pole.
What woman alive hasn’t? “I’m far too old,” I told her.
She snorted. “Look at me, I’m hardly what you’d expect from a pole dancer. You never know what you can do until you try.”
I eyed the pole, then Alex, then glanced down at myself. I was wearing leggings and a long stretchy t-shirt, which would probably work.
“There’s nobody here. Oh,” she added when she sees me look toward the prospect, “ignore him, I do.” When she raised a quizzical eyebrow, I suddenly grinned. Well, why the hell not?
Within moments, I was preparing my hands with chalk as Alex sprayed the pole. She showed me some beginner moves, then I tried to copy what she had just done, and failed, spectacularly. But my competitive streak began to kick in, and I was determined to beat this.
Alex didn’t laugh as I couldn’t get a grip, just encouraged me, saying she had been the same in the beginning. Her confidence persuaded me to try again, a second and then a third go. That attempt was slightly better, and I managed a twirl before sliding down and ending up on my ass. I did it again with the same result.
I started turning to grin at Alex—despite the ignominious ending, it had been a small victory—when instead of landing on her, my eyes found Lost.
He was staring at me, and as I wondered how long he’d been there, my cheeks began to burn, not only with embarrassment, but that he was so obviously trying to adjust himself in his tight-fitting pants. The denim that I’d previously noticed hugging his ass, was now definitely bulging out in the front. Because of me?
I couldn’t think of another reason. As far as I knew he’d just been in a meeting, and while I had no idea what would have gone on, I doubted it would be anything to get him aroused.
Then he’d told me I was sexy. Me. Sexy.
I hadn’t known how to respond. But I didn’t have to. Like a switch being thrown, Lost was all business, quickly summoning Dan then getting us seated in his office. He didn’t waste time before dropping a bombshell on me.
Now I’m trying to get my head around it.
I’m stunned at their belief it’s me Alder is trying to find. They must have it wrong, and he does suspect Dan’s alive. What on earth would Alder want with me? I have no idea.
That Phil had died a rich man and had left me nothing wasn’t any more than I’d expect. We hadn’t played happy families in a very long time. I’m not sure we ever did. I’d k
icked him out and refused to take his ill-gotten earnings not wanting to be beholden to him in any way. If he had left me anything, I’d probably have given it away. Who’d want to touch dirty money earned in dubious ways? Especially now I knew he was into ruining lives, by dealing in drugs, protection money and sex trafficking. No, Phil had never given me anything I wanted to keep, except for my children.
Something, a thought, is niggling at the back of my head, but I can’t seem to get hold of it. It’s right there, at the edge of my consciousness, dredged up by my busy mind. I’m vaguely aware that Dan’s broken the silence, but I concentrate on thinking instead, trying to cast my mind back to a time before it all went wrong and I realised what a crook I was married to.
I’d come in to ask Phil whether he wanted a coffee and found him frantically searching for something instead. “What’s the hurry, Phil?”
He spared only one quick glance my way. “I need to get to the bank before it closes.”
“Use an ATM if you want to get money out—”
“I don’t need fucking money.” He kept searching around in his desk. Then he looked up, his eyes narrowing. “Do you have it?”
My brow creased. “Have what?”
His eyes looked upward as if I should be able to guess. “The key for our safe deposit box.”
Oh, that. “It’s in my jewellery box. What do you need out of it, Phil?” We kept our wills, birth certificates, marriage licence and other stuff in there. As an accountant, one thing Phil did was keep our affairs in order. It’s an obvious wife question to ask, what he wants to look at and why.
Phil didn’t talk about money, but we always seemed to have enough. Could he be wanting to take out a second mortgage? That’s something I should know about.
“I’m not taking anything out. I need to put something in.”
“What?”
“For fuck’s sake, woman, some of my financial stuff.” He huffed as if he shouldn’t need to explain himself. “Now get me the key so I can get moving. This needs to be in there today.”
Being Lost: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #1 Page 13