Devil's Sins

by Naomi West

  “Okay, now!”

  He turns away from me, guarding me from anybody who might suddenly pop out of the building. I run like my life depends on it, mostly because it does. I crouch down behind the rocks. Cage glances back, gesturing at me to get down lower. I climb down right behind them, completely out of view. Somehow it’s worse like this. Now all I can do is listen. Listen to the constant crack-crack of bullet fire. Listen to the occasional roaring of the men.

  A disturbing thought enters my mind. What if the Blazing Angels lose this fight? If the Bloody Talons win and I’m just left hiding here … I press my fingers against the side of my head. I press so hard, it hurts.

  There are men in there fighting and dying to save me. To save Cage, really. But they’ve saved me as well. I can’t self-pity and think about everything that could go wrong. I have to stay calm.

  I manage to get myself something approaching calm by remembering what Mom said to me a week before she killed Dad.

  “Just think about yourself like you’re somebody else, Scar. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  “Just float high, high above yourself and look down and think: Oh, that’s funny. I thought I was her. But really, she’s just a big mess. Maybe I should stop her crying. It’s annoying. Isn’t it annoying?” She tickled her fingers over the lines on my palms. It was something she often did. I giggled.

  “But what if I can’t?”

  “You can,” she said sternly. “Don’t think like that.”

  By the time Cage returns, I am steady. He looks down at me. His face is still bloody, but not as much. He must’ve wiped it. He has a shotgun slung over his back and there are more Blazing Angels waiting up near the warehouse.

  “Is it over?” I ask.

  “Yeah, it’s done.”

  He reaches down, making to take my hand. Then he realizes that his hand is red with blood. I shoot mine out, clutching it before he can take it away. He helps me to my feet and we just stand there for a second looking at each other. I sense that he wants to kiss me. I know I want to kiss him. But the men are watching, and anyway, we’re both bloody and dirty. We settled for a short embrace, my head pressed firmly against his chest. His heartbeat is steady.

  “Did you …”

  “Get Hatter?” He shakes his head grimly. “The bastard got away. Most of them did. They had this secret tunnel in an old outhouse. We didn’t know until it was too late.”

  “And how many dead?” I whisper, feeling a stab of guilt.

  He touches me on the shoulder. “You didn’t start this war.”

  “How many?” I demand.

  “Not as much as you’d think. A few of theirs; one of ours was injured. We had the advantage since I managed to get free. I reckon it would’ve been worse otherwise.”

  “But all that gunfire …”

  “Distractions, covering fire, bad aim. Shit, Scarlett, a gunfight is mostly just a fuckin’ mess.”

  I wait off to the side as Cage gets himself cleaned up. I glance at the men, trying to search for signs of annoyance. But they hardly even notice I’m here. They just talk amongst themselves. Eventually, Cage hands me a leather jacket and a helmet.

  “I’m taking you to the clubhouse,” he says. “Until this shit is over’n done with, I’m gonna know where you are at all damn times. None of this sneaking off shit. You’ll live at the clubhouse. You won’t go anywhere without my permission.”

  “Am I your prisoner?” I say it half jokingly, but it’s also a genuine question.

  “Yes,” he says without flinching. “If you wanna think of it that way.”

  Some of the other men stay behind to set fire to the warehouse. It irks me because I bet there’s lots of intel in there; notes and evidence and all sorts of journalistic treats. But I’m too worn out to argue with Cage about sticking behind. Instead, I just grip onto his strong body and ride with him back toward Steep Rock.

  In the clubhouse, he takes me to a clean room in the top corner. There’s a big double bed and an en-suite bathroom, plus a few odds and ends. A few cigarettes, a lighter, a half bottle of whisky.

  “Your room?” I ask.

  He nods shortly. “You’ll stay here. I’ll send somebody by your place for some clothes.” He makes to leave.

  “Won’t you need my keys?” I ask.

  He glances back, shakes his head. “It’ll be fine,” he says.

  “Cage.”

  He pauses again. “Yeah?”

  “I … thank you. And the others, too. Thank you for getting me out of there safely.”

  He grins oddly. “The fuck was I gonna do, leave my old lady behind?”

  “Do you mean that? Do you really want to make me your old lady?”

  He pauses. Opens his mouth. Closes it. When he opens it again, he sounds just as worn out as me. “Just get some rest, eh?”

  He leaves. I drop onto the bed, allowing my eyes to fall heavily closed. I won’t go to sleep, I promise myself. I’ll just lie here and try to sort everything out in my head, get it organized so …

  Then everything just feels too heavy. It’s so easy to just let go.

  14

  Cage

  “What a goddamn mess,” Jax says, sipping his whisky. “Still, we got out lucky. Patty’ll walk again, the lucky bastard.”

  “He is Irish,” I mutter, sipping my own whisky.

  “Yeah, damn right.” Jax grins. He looks around the clubhouse, where more men sit in quiet drinking circles. “Fuckin’ tunnel in an outhouse. Who would’ve guessed that, eh?”

  “Not me.” I drain the whisky, pour myself another. I go slow. It hurts to drink even if they’ve patched my face up. Everything is sore and pulsating.

  “Was it bad?” Jax asks when he sees me wincing.

  “Bad?” I cough out a laugh. “It was a fuckin’ walk in the park, brother. I wish you’d left me in there a while longer.”

  “Nothing like having the holy hell beat outta you to keep you sharp.”

  We look at each other. He nods briefly. That’s all we need. That’s his acknowledgment that he would never leave me behind. I nod back. That’s my thanks for him saving me. We don’t need to bring it out in the open. We never do.

  “Some of the greener fellas are starting to talk like this Hatter prick is a ghost or some shit.”

  “He’s not a ghost, but the prick sure as hell acts like one.”

  “What’s he like, Cage?”

  I think on it. “I reckon he’s harder’n we’d like to think. He seemed to like beating me some. He seemed to like the idea of pulling my fingernails a whole lot more. I wouldn’t wanna be one of those girls that bastard keeps, Jax. Goddamn.”

  “Yeah.” Jax squeezes his whisky glass. His knuckles go red, then white. “When this war’s over, I’m gonna upgrade my bike, piece by piece. Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me, it’s gonna be.”

  “You love that bike like a woman. I wonder what Lacey’d say.”

  “You ungrateful bastard.” He grins. “I just saved your sorry ass’n you’re still giving me shit?”

  “Tell me you’d have it any other way, Jax. But I won’t believe you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I wanna be the one to put a bullet in this motherfucker.”

  “Not if I get there first,” I snarl. “Fuckin’ tying me to a chair. Acting like the biggest bastard who ever lived. He’s a cowardly fuck, all right, even if he’s got some toughness in him. Do you reckon a man can be cowardly and tough at the same time?”

  “I reckon so—”

  A club girl appears at our table. Her name’s Charlotte, and she’s in her mid-twenties. She smiles warmly at us. She’s always friendly. “Hello, gentleman,” she says.

  “Charlotte.” Jax inclines his head respectfully. It’s how he treats all the club girls now that he’s got Lacey. He’s a loyal man.

  “Scarlett is asking for you, Cage.”

  “What, now?” I grunt.

  The sun has set. It’s been several long hours since the m
ess at the warehouse. I’ve had a shower and caught a few hours’ sleep.

  “I thought she’d still be sleeping.”

  Charlotte shrugs. “She’s asking for you.”

  “It’s all right,” Jax says. “I know what it’s like to have an old lady.” He looks pleased with himself. I’m surprised when he doesn’t bring up all the times I’ve said I would never have an old lady. “Even if you’ve told me more times’n I can remember you wouldn’t ever—”

  I pace through the bar, ignoring his hyena laughter.

  Scarlett is sitting on the edge of her bed in a change of clothes. She’s showered and done her hair, too. It’s difficult to believe she was ever in a dingy warehouse as a prisoner. She looks like a princess. She’s wearing a glittery black sweater and black leather pants with chunky black boots.

  “Hello,” she says.

  “Hello,” I reply.

  I stand off from her a little. I remember the conversation in the refrigerator with tightness in my gut. She knows more about me now than most folks ever have.

  Finally, I go to her. I sit next to her and wrap my arm around her. It feels good pressing her close to me when I know we’re safe. This is our fortress. Hatter’d have to be a damn madman to attack this place. It’d mean the end of him, for sure. I kiss her on the forehead, then find her lips. We kiss properly for a brief moment before my face twinges in pain.

  “Sorry,” she whispers, breaking it off at my wince.

  “Don’t be,” I tell her. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I’ve been thinking …” She looks at me nervously.

  “Yeah?”

  “About our deal. You know, you’d give me something on the Bloody Talons …”

  “I remember.” I nod, wondering why I made the damn deal to begin with. The answer is her pale blue eyes; how perfect she looks when she smiles at me. I have to keep her safe, even from herself. “What about it?”

  “I want to go back to the warehouse!” she blurts. It’s like she has to rush the words out because she thinks I won’t like the idea.

  I don’t.

  “We burned it to the ground, Scarlett. You know that. There’s no use in going back there. It’ll just be ash now.”

  “What about the forest?” she asks quietly.

  “You reckon a Steep Rock man don’t know how to burn down a building without setting the forest alight?”

  “I still want to go back there,” she says, firmer now.

  I let go of her and walk to the window. I stare out at the black of the night. Then Scarlett appears in the reflection. She touches my shoulder softly. Part of me wants to reach up and grab her hand. For some reason, I ignore it. I don’t know how to act around her now she knows about Isaac. I keep seeing this look in her eyes like she’s expecting something from me. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. I don’t know. That’s the damn problem.

  “There’s nothing left in there,” I growl. “What’s the use in walking around a burnt-out warehouse when we won’t even be able to see?”

  “I didn’t say we had to go right now,” she retorts.

  “I don’t reckon we need to go at all.”

  “That note was burnt. The business card.”

  I interlock my hands, pressing them together. “The damn business card,” I whisper. “Fuckin’ hell. You never should’ve seen that, Scarlett. That was just a dumb-fuck mistake on my part. It’ll never happen again.”

  “But it did happen. And I did see it. If a business card can survive a fire, what else?”

  I wheel on her. Wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me. I move my hands down to her ass. I grab them until she lets out a little sighing moan right into my ear. That nearly sends me over the edge, but then she suddenly steps back.

  “No.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to snap her neck off. “We had a deal, Cage. You said you would help me with the Bloody Talons. Well.” She folds her arms. “This is part of that.”

  “Now, Scarlett? Are we really doing this shit now?”

  “I know. It’s bitchy. I get that.”

  “Yeah, and then some.”

  She scowls. But she’s smiling at the same time. Dammit, but I’m falling for this woman. “I’m not going to have sex with you, Cage.”

  “Oh, so we’re bartering now?”

  She throws her hands up. “No, we’re not bartering. I’m just telling you that I don’t have sex with deal-breakers. I’m sorry. It’s sort of one of my rules.”

  “Fuck it then!” I snarl. “I’m gonna go’n get so drunk I can barely stand up, all right? So do what you want!”

  “You don’t have to be a jerk.” If she said it angrily, maybe I’d be able to snap at her again. But she says it matter-of-fact. It’s like she’s just pointing out a basic fact. And she’s right, I realize. I don’t have to be one. Maybe this is what it’s like having a lady. Maybe all their nagging really does serve a purpose.

  “All right,” I say. “I’ll think on it tonight. Are you gonna come out to the bar? Have you eaten yet?”

  “Charlotte brought me some food. And no, I think I’ll just stay here. I’m still really tired.”

  I kiss her and leave. Jax is gone when I get back. Gunner tells me he went to see his lady. They’re about to deal me in when Boulder comes walking over. He nods at me; nods at his office. I follow him.

  “I’ve got word that your lady wants to head down to that warehouse,” he says. He rests his chin on his knuckles. He looks old when he does that. But fierce, too. I reckon this bullshit with the Talons has taken its toll on Boulder most of all.

  “You got word … Charlotte tell you?”

  He nods shortly.

  “I’ve already told her how damn stupid that idea is, boss, so if you brought me in here …”

  He’s smiling at me.

  “The fuck are you smiling for?”

  “Jax’s been telling me that I ought to have a heart every now’n then.”

  “Yeah, he says shit like that to me all the damn time. I just ignore it.”

  Boulder laughs grimly. I laugh with him. He offers me a whisky, and I take it.

  “I don’t think it’s a bad idea, truth be told. You found that business card in the wreckage.”

  “Didn’t you search it before you burned it?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Yeah, but you found the business card.”

  “It was just lying there, boss. Didn’t take any special skill. Send a pledge. Result’d be about the same.”

  “What if I said I reckon it’d be a good thing for you to have an old lady? What if I said Jax’s been on at me like he’s gonna break my nose if I don’t send you out there? What if I said it was a direct order’n even if I know you probably won’t get shit, I want you to go anyway?”

  “Are you Cupid now, boss? Is that it? Fuckin’ Jax. I just got us into one helluva mess’n now you’re worrying about my … Boss, this is crazy.”

  “We’ve got scouts out looking for them. We’ve got enforcers roughing up folk who need to be roughed up. We’ve got our soldiers workin’, Cage. Workin’ hard. The way you’re drinking out there, I bet your only plans tomorrow morning are sleep. Well, you’ve got new plans now. Ride out to that warehouse and see what’s what. And take the girl.”

  “Tell me something, boss. Has Jax always been an interfering little prick?”

  Boulder smiles, staring off into the middle distance. He’s remembering something. “Yeah, he has. How do you think I ended up with an old lady?”

  “Fuckin’ Jax,” I snarl again. “All right, boss. Anything else?”

  Scarlett turns to me in surprise when I barge into her room. She’s at her desk, writing.

  “There better not be anything about the Angels in that.” I gesture at her notepad.

  “There isn’t,” she promises.

  “Good.” I kneel down next to her and take out a small handbag pistol. “This is the smallest we have, all right? Low recoil. Shouldn’t give you too many problems. I’ve alrea
dy loaded it. Keep it pointed at the ground unless you wanna kill something. Point and shoot. Hold your arms steady.”

  “What’s this for?” she asks, taking the gun carefully.

  “Tomorrow.” I sigh. “It looks like we’re riding out together.”

  15

  Scarlett

  In the end, we don’t ride down. Cage bundles me into the passenger seat of a massive jeep, windows tinted, and apparently with bulletproof armor. I don’t believe him when he tells me, not at first. I assume it’s a joke. But the way he bundles me into the car convinces me a little. He presses his body against mine as though afraid somebody might fire a shot.

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” I tell him as we drive down. A few motorbikes trail us, but far back. They’ll only come forward if something happens.

  “I don’t have to …” He looks at me. He has that same odd expression again. It’s about his little brother, I’m guessing. I want to find a way to bring it up, but I don’t know how. “Women. She gets herself caught’n then tells me I don’t have to worry. Goddamn!”

  “Who are you talking to?” I giggle. “An imaginary crowd?”

  He smiles despite himself. “You really are a devil, Scarlett. Has anybody ever told you that before? You’re a damn devil.”

  “Nobody’s ever told me that, but I like it when you do.” I put my hand on his leg.

  He grins at me. “Nothing like Scarlett Swift to lift a man’s spirits, eh?”

  “I didn’t know I told you my last name.”

  “I don’t know if you did either,” he answers with that same grin.

  When we break off from the highway and join the winding road through the forest, I move my hand further up his leg.

  “What’re you doing?” he growls.

  “Saying thank you,” I whisper. I’ve never done anything like this before. It makes me nervous. Nervous and excited. Perhaps more excited than nervous. I move my hand right up to his crotch and then rub it. Then I take it out. It’s rock hard for me. Thrills run through my body as I lean down and open my mouth wide.