Paladin's Hell

by Manda Mellett

  “He hadn’t a clue, Hell. I know he hadn’t gone looking for what he found. I don’t know what led him to those records. He was so shocked.”

  “I should have destroyed them.” Hell looks distraught and annoyed with himself.

  “You couldn’t, Hell. They’re the official records.”

  He takes a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. It’s only then I notice tears are leaking from his eyes, leaving a trail down his cheeks. “How did he react?” His voice now quiet, full of emotion. “How the fuck did my son react to finding out his real father was a rapist?”

  “He was upset.” My words are an obvious understatement. “He took off, Hell. Told me he needed to get his head around it. Said to tell you he’d be gone for a while.”

  “Any idea where?” he asks in clipped tones.

  “No.” I think for a moment. “Have you?” I can feel him shaking, this is one situation he can’t control.

  “No. Demon has problems; he’d normally come to me. But this? I’m the last person he’d want to talk to. Huh, I’m the man who lied to him all his fuckin’ life.”

  And I’m the woman who lived the lie.

  We sit, on the floor, huddled together as the world we’d so carefully built comes crashing down around us. Demon, our son for all intents and purposes, is out there alone, hurting. There’s nothing either of us can do about it. How he’ll cope, how he’ll want to proceed from now on, a mystery neither of us can solve. Until Demon reappears. If he ever does.

  Chapter 11

  Hellfire

  I need to get back to the clubhouse. Once he’s digested the news he should never have stumbled across, Demon will want to speak to me. Go head to head with me. I know my son. He won’t take it out on his mother—she did nothing wrong. She was the victim as much as he was. No, it will be me he challenges, me he comes for. And the place for the confrontation will be the scene of the crime.

  Moira’s tears are slowing, but I don’t take it to mean she’s feeling easier in her mind, she’s all cried out and exhausted. Gently pulling her to her feet, I lead her into the lounge, encouraging her onto the couch. I pour a vodka, and leave it beside her.

  Going into my study, I take out my phone.

  “Bomber? Need your help, Brother.” I pick up the glass I’d filled with whisky for myself, while knowing a stiff drink won’t make this any easier.

  “You got it, Prez. Anything you need.” Bomber’s deep voice vibrates through the earpiece as he doesn’t hesitate to give me assistance without asking for details.

  I pause, struggling to get the words out. “Demon, is he at the club?” I doubt it, but thought it worth a shot.

  “Haven’t seen him. Last I knew he was going to your place. He wanted to check something or other.”

  I swallow a sip of whisky, resisting the urge to throw it back in one, then take another and drink myself into oblivion. But I didn’t gain my rank, and have held it for so long, by escaping into a bottle. “He was delving deep into the old club records, Bomber. Too fucking deep. Thirty-six years to be precise.” I pause, then dive in, “He knows, Bomb. He fuckin’ knows. About Blackie, and Moira.”

  There’s a sharp inhaled breath. “Prez…”

  “Moira’s in pieces, Demon took off. Fuck knows where or for how long. He’ll be coming for me, Bomb. He’ll want to confront me, want to know why I hid the truth all these years.”

  “What can I do, Prez?”

  “I need to be at the club. That’s where he’ll be comin’. Can Jeannie come here? I don’t want Mo to be on her own.” I know Jeannie and Mo have been distant lately, but she’s the only person who my old lady can talk to about this. No one else knows, and she wouldn’t want them to.

  “Of fuckin’ course. No question about it. Where do you want me, Prez?”

  Bomber and Rusty are the only two members who were in the club at the time Blackie pulled his last stunt, no one else knows the dirty secret or even suspects. Blackie’s death, a stain on the club, isn’t discussed. Today’s the first time I’ve let down my guard and all but confirmed Demon’s heritage to Bomber, from his reaction, however, offering no questions, he’s known all along. Was it that obvious? Or had Jeannie told him?

  “At the club, Brother. Demon might want answers from you.”

  “I’ll fuckin’ give them to him. Still remember that fuckin’ night, Prez. You had no choice but to kill him.”

  Yeah. Not only had I lied to Demon about our true relationship, I’d killed his real father too, taking away the chance for him to know him. Heck of a lot to lay on the boy—right now, I can’t even think of him as a fully grown man. He’s my little kid, and he’s hurting. Too fucking much. Quickly I wonder if it would have been better to have told him while he was growing up, but dismiss it. There would never have been a good time to explain about the man who’d provided the sperm that made him. I only wish it was a secret that could have been buried along with me.

  “I did what I had to, Brother. No choice about it. No heavy conscience and no regrets.”

  “But Demon might see it differently.”

  He might. Fuck knows what he’s thinking right now, or whether he’s even capable of rational thought.

  “I’ll explain to Jeannie, bring her over. You were right to call me, Prez. Jeannie was there, she knows everything about Mo. Might not know why or how Blackie disappeared, but she’ll settle Mo. Mo did right, you stepped up. Made a fuckin’ good go of it too. You and the club’s first lady? Set a fuckin’ good example for everyone else these three-and-a-half decades.”

  “You too, Bomb. You and Jeannie.”

  He huffs a quick laugh. “Not that we haven’t had our ups and downs, but we’re good, Prez. We’re good.”

  Can I say the same thing about me and Moira? Not sure what we are at the present, but need to put our problems aside until Demon resurfaces, and we know where his head’s at. Our eldest child takes priority right now.

  Bomber’s quick to arrive, Jeannie riding bitch behind him. Her face is taut as she enters, that he’s already explained the situation is clear. She nods at me tersely, then rushes over to Moira. Seeing her friend, Mo starts crying all over again, and the way she reaches for her shows me I was right to call Jeannie in. All differences between them swept away, at least for the moment.

  I grab my keys, then side by side with one of my oldest friends, ride to the clubhouse.

  Entering, I stand at the door, my hand holding onto the frame as I peruse the assembled brothers, hoping, but not seeing, the man I wanted to most. I hadn’t expected it to be that easy, but in my mind had summoned up my son, my brother, as usual, holding court around the bar, a beer in his hand acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  Wishful thinking.

  Man’s just heard probably the most devastating news anyone could have the bad luck to absorb through their ears.

  “Prez?” Cad’s waving his hand toward the bar.

  Not being in the mood for conversation, I indicate my office, and walk across the room, unwilling to be dragged into anybody else’s problems, mine would trump any of theirs. Once in my sanctuary, I pull out my not-so-secret stash of whisky, and pour a glass of pure malt. Then sink into my chair, resting my head back.

  What the fuck’s going to happen? Will I lose my son? Will the club lose its VP? Will Demon want to throw down against me? Fuck, I worry about him so much. I might not have provided the sperm, but I was there every minute of her pregnancy, held back her hair while she was vomiting, went to every fucking doctor’s appointment. Saw my son first on a sonographic screen. He was mine from the minute I heard about him. Never let anyone think anything else. I loved him before he was born—not that we knew it was a him before then—didn’t matter to either of us whether the baby would be a boy or girl.

  Christ, those first months with Moira were difficult. She’d wake with nightmares in the dead of the night. Took me weeks to get her to trust me fully, even though, by then, she was my wife. Blacki
e had caused so many issues, it had taken me a very long time to teach her what making love was all about.

  Once I’d eventually been able to introduce her to my kind of love making though, she couldn’t get enough. We fucked like rabbits, anytime, anywhere. But once Demon was born, we both agreed, she was still young. One baby was enough. I wrapped my shit for the next few years until we were ready for our family to grow. Kennedy was the one we did right. Planned for, prepared for. I never treated Demon any differently, even when his sister, my true daughter was born. Not for one fucking moment. He was mine, in all the ways that mattered.

  Mo wanted a big family, so I threw the condoms away. As the years passed we didn’t think it would happen. Didn’t bother us too much, we already had a boy and a girl. When she fell pregnant with Samuel after a big gap, neither of us could have been happier. But hell, if I expected trouble from anyone, my youngest boy would have been the one. He hadn’t gone off the rails, but a few times it had come close. He’s doing well now, and I’ve got to the point where I thought I could start to relax.

  Demon. Well, he’d been the one to want to follow in my footsteps, and he’s doing one hell of a job. He’d become VP on his own merits, a good man to have at my side and at my back.

  Or he had been. What the fuck is going to happen now?

  I can’t go home. It’s not that I can’t face Moira, not that my heart isn’t breaking for her. I’m convinced Demon will eventually seek me out, and am determined it would be here he’d find me. Any harsh words spoken between us wouldn’t be in front of his mother. She doesn’t deserve that.

  Knowing Jeannie was there and wouldn’t leave her alone however long it takes, I stay at the club. Checking in with my wife the next morning.

  “Any news?” She answers the phone without a greeting.

  “No, no sign. I’ve got the boys out lookin’ for him. He’s not been found drownin’ his sorrows anywhere.”

  “Did, did you tell them?”

  “Nah. Give me some fuckin’ credit. I told them we’d had a father/son argument, and I was worried. You doing okay, darlin’?”

  A pause, then, a whispered, “I just want him to be alright.”

  Me too. Me fucking too. “I’ll keep in touch. Call you as soon as I hear something.”

  She promises to do the same, then I end the call. Placing my phone back in my cut, it hits me how long it’s been since we finished conversations with declarations of love. Too long. Probably time I should remind her. Probably a lot of things I should be doing and haven’t done.

  The day passes, and there’s no sign of him. The next night is the second sleepless one I have. The following morning, I hear a commotion from the clubroom.

  “Hey, VP! Prez has been looking for you.” Mace’s loud voice booms.

  I take a deep breath, sit back in my chair, and place my hands palms down on the desk. I wait. I don’t have to be patient long.

  The door opens, and I feast my eyes on my boy, noticing he looks ragged and drawn, as if he too hadn’t slept. I hate that it’s down to me he’s going through this pain. Should have burned that fucking record book, then he’d have never found out.

  “VP.” I greet him, not wanting to trigger him by using the word, son.

  “Prez.” He’s equally polite as he throws my title back. His expression is guarded; he’s giving nothing away.

  He closes the gap between the door and my desk, then skirts around the edge. “Stand up,” he instructs.

  I do. Knowing he’s going to take a swing at me. I killed his father after all. I deserve it. I let him live a lie all his life.

  I tense, waiting for it, trying not to brace myself. I deserve the pain.

  Time ticks on. Nothing happens. I glance up, my gaze at last meeting his eyes. Like the rest of him, they’re inscrutable. Then they close. When they reopen, he lets out a weighted sigh. His hands start to rise; I prepare for the blow. Which never arrives. Instead his arms go around me, hugging me too him, the extra inch of height he has over me giving him an advantage.

  Stunned, surprised, I return his embrace, holding him tightly, having never expected to hold him again.

  When his grip relaxes, now I can see emotion in his eyes, and moisture forming.

  His mouth twists. “Got a lot to talk about. Got a lot to work through in my head. One thing I want to get out into the open is, Hellfire, you’re the best fuckin’ brother a man could ever have.”

  That I didn’t expect. “Demon…” I start.

  “Nah, let me finish.” He lets me go, and now walks back to the front of the desk where he pulls up a chair and sits. He waits until I retake my own seat. “You couldn’t tell me. How could a kid cope with knowing what his sperm donor had done? You gave me a home, and shelter, when you could have hated me.”

  I stay silent, there’s nothing more to say.

  “Have I got this right? Maybe need you to fill in the gaps.” I nod, indicating I’ll be happy to. “So, you and Mom? You were already an item?”

  “Yeah.” I sit forward, placing my elbows on the desk. “Before, well, before, I knew she was the one for me. But I was a prospect. Blackie had strict rules, prospects, especially me, were treated like scum.”

  “That’s why you’re easier on them? Wills has got a woman…”

  “And I respect that. If that had been the way then, what happened never would have come to pass.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “He was my, our, father, but Blackie wasn’t a good man. Though clever in many ways. After the steel mill closed, instead of moaning about it, he started the club. Yeah, the money came easily with the shit we were into back in those days, but he still worked hard. What really attracted him though, was the power that came with being sat at the head of the table. Thought he was the fucking king of the club. Thought he owned everyone in it, especially the prospects. He didn’t make my life easy because I was his son.” I huff a laugh. “That’s a fuckin’ understatement. He was downright nasty.”

  “The brothers went along with it?”

  “Most were just content having someone to lead them, make decisions on their behalf. Give them something to live for. If the club hadn’t been so young, maybe some of them would have stood up to him earlier. Furnace, I think, was becoming uneasy, but I wasn’t sure he had the backing of the rest.”

  “They backed you, that night, though.”

  “Jeannie had been itchin’ to meet a biker. Saw her friend, your mom, as her way in. I’d been dating Moira in secret for a while, already knew I was serious about her. Was going to officially claim her once I’d got patched in.” I shake my head. “If I’d dreamed for one moment she’d planned to come to the club that night, I would have made my warnin’ to stay away clearer. I’d told her it wasn’t the place for her, but not spelled out the reasons why. I was so close to getting my patch, it didn’t seem necessary. I had no idea she’d just turn up. She’d always seemed wary of bikers, and until I could give her the protection of being a member’s old lady, I didn’t want her anywhere near.”

  “So why did she come?”

  “Jeannie persuaded her. Told her it would be fun. Convinced her I’d be thrilled to see her embrace that part of my life.”

  Demon nods, but his mouth twists. “Sounds just like something fuckin’ Jeannie would do.” He’s grown up with her always being around the club. He knows her as well as anyone. Once again, he meets my eyes, swallowing hard before asking, “So, how did it go down?”

  “When Blackie saw her, he read how much I cared for her.” I pause, gathering my strength to carry on, needing to make clear how powerless I’d been. The memories so fucking painful, to this day, it’s hard to speak about it. Especially to Demon. But he’s asked to know what happened, and he’s got a right to know. Too many lies between us, I’m not going to fabricate more. “I was on bar duty, Blackie ordered me to stay put as he decided to pull rank. Conned her he wanted to get to know her because of her interest in his son. Told her he was the prez, and that he’d show her the club.
He did, but his tour was limited to his bedroom.”

  Demon puts his head into his hands, I don’t bother to spell it out.

  “He wasn’t discreet. It was clear what he had done. Moira ran off, she didn’t want anything to do with me. I wanted to go after her, but instead, Furnace called church, and, well, you’ve read the notes. It was the turning point for the club. I was patched in; he was voted out.” I pause, then scoff, “Seems everyone had become wary of him. No one stood up for him, or what he had done.”

  He nods slowly, then barks a harsh laugh. “Been thinkin’ a lot, Hellfire. Think we’re alike, father and son or brother and brother. You did nothing more than I would have done.”

  A weight lifts off my shoulders as I tell him the rest. I want nothing else hidden between us. “Mo refused to see me afterwards, she was too upset. I tried, but in her mind she connected me to my father, the man who had raped her. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her at all.” I’ve decided to tell him everything. “Until it became clear there were lasting implications. She was seventeen, Demon. If her parents knew she was pregnant, they’d have thrown her out. She had no support, no money to her name. When she needed funds for an abortion, she had nowhere else to turn.”

  His eyes meet mine as the implications hit. If Mo had got her way, he wouldn’t be here sitting opposite me. “What happened to change her mind?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  “Jeannie got in touch with me. She was after the money. Thought the club owed Mo, that it was responsible for the mess Mo was in. She was right. At last I was able to see her. I knew immediately my feelings for her hadn’t changed. Of course, I had to work hard. At first she put my renewed attentions down to guilt.”