“Might just be a small heart with a boyfriend’s name,” I tell Liz. “If she’s that young, maybe it wasn’t even professionally done. If she can get the right paperwork, maybe we can make an exception this once.”
“I don’t like this Mace. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve got a funny feeling about Shayla.” He taps his nose. “There’s a smell I don’t like.”
I know he doesn’t mean he’s taken exception to her perfume.
Lizard might have forgotten a lot of his time with the Marines, but he still retains his training to his core. I, too, am constantly on the outlook for trouble. You don’t spend time in the sandbox without looking over your shoulder and being aware of the slightest thing out of place at any time.
He fidgets, I pace. I’m hoping my innocent suggestion was right and we’re looking for problems where there are none. But when Vi returns, just one look at her face tells me I’m wrong to be optimistic.
Liz stands fast. “What is it?”
Vi looks stunned. “She’s young. Fourteen, fifteen? Sixteen at a stretch. Shayla’s trying to tell me she’s an adult,” she huffs. “No damn way.”
“The tattoo?”
I know something’s very wrong when Vi looks straight at me. She’s gone pale. “It’s exactly the same one as Shayla’s.” And in case we had any doubts, adds, “Same man.”
Fuck. Two identical tats? Two women wearing the same property patch? That sounds more like a fucking brand.
“Okay,” Liz starts, drawing out the word.
“It gets worse,” interrupts Vi, her eyes filling with tears. “She’s a nice girl. Pretty to look at. She’s quick to smile. Easy to scare—I moved too fast and she jumped. She’s also, she’s… mentally impaired.”
“Oh fuck no. We can’t do it, Vi.”
“Please Liz, please. Just talk to them. Please.” Vi’s close to begging. “There’s something really wrong, and we can help sort it out.”
“What’s up, Liz?” Ignoring Vi for a moment, I focus on him. His firm refusal sounding alarm bells.
My brother meets my eyes. “It’s against the law to ink anyone who’s not all there.”
“Since when do we care what’s legal?” I scoff.
“Since we run a legit tattoo business. Since we’ve moved to a good part of town and attract a better clientele. Since we have ‘nice’ women coming in from the hairdressers next door. You think they’re not suspicious enough when they see brothers around? They come because we’re good at what we do. They come because they dared themselves to walk among men like us. They come because they’d delight in finding we don’t walk the straight and narrow. One step out of line and we’d have the heat coming down before we could blink.”
I’m not fazed. “So, we do it off hours. Let’s at least talk to them.”
At his reluctant nod, Vi turns. Moments later, she’s encouraging Shayla and the girl into Liz’s office. I’ve positioned myself just in front of the door so she doesn’t notice me until I’ve shut it, and now stand with my back against it so she can’t run.
Shayla’s still talking to Vi. “I’m not sure this is necessary. I’m prepared to pay the full price for both. I don’t need a discount, so I don’t need to see your boss.” She sounds nervous. When her wary glance around the room shows me in my stance by the door, she pales. “Look, we’ll go somewhere else.”
“Sit down,” barks Liz.
Chapter Eleven
Lizard
I didn’t mean to snap, just need to get this situation under some semblance of control. Jonah and Vi were right. This kid, now sitting in front of me, isn’t even close to the age of consent.
I take a moment to steady my voice, needing first to stamp down the rage which had risen inside me. “Hey, honey, would you like some candy? I’ve got some in my desk outside we can get for you.”
The girl puts her thumb in her mouth and nods shyly. Vi goes to the door, Mace steps aside to let her out, then retakes his sentry position.
“What’s your name?”
The girl looks at the woman now seated beside her. The woman mouths something. The girl shakes her head. Then it’s Shayla who provides the information I asked for when she says, “Esme.”
“Esme,” I say, keeping my tone as gentle as I can. “That’s a nice name.”
Vi had told me she was pretty. When she smiles, it could brighten a person’s day. I’m not sure what it is, there’s such a look of innocence and joy about her. My hands clench. Only one reason a man puts a property patch on a female, and it’s not because she’s his daughter.
I move my gaze onto Shayla. Without preamble, I get straight down to what I want to know. “Who’s Major?”
A whimper draws my attention away.
“It’s alright,” Shayla reassures Esme, more confidently than I expected, as though she’s being strong for the girl. “He’s not here, okay?” Her face grows fierce. “I’m never going to let him hurt you again.”
Just my enquiry has upset the kid. She’s drawn up her legs so her heels rest on the chair, her arms are wrapped around her knees and her head is bent with her face hidden. At that moment, the door opens, and Vi walks back in. She sees Esme and glares in my direction, then spares another for Mace.
“Vi,” I decide fast, “can you take Esme back to your station? Perhaps she’d like to help you draw something?”
Shayla looks my way, summing up the situation fast. “No, no talking.” She starts to stand. “We’ll be on our way. I’ll pay you for what you’ve already done—”
“Sit,” I tell her again, almost surprised when she does. “Sounds like you and the girl both need work completed. I suspect you came to us as you thought we wouldn’t ask too many questions, and maybe you’re right. We give a shit about what we do and running a good business, but we also give a shit about keeping women and kids safe. You’re free to go, we ain’t gonna stop you. Just think about this. Any tattoo artist prepared to work on her,” I point to Esme, still rocking in her chair, “won’t be worth shit. Anyone good enough will be too concerned about the authorities.”
“But you aren’t?”
“We are,” Mace’s voice booms. “But we can work in devious ways. Do this shit off-site or off hours if need be. You think you can find anyone else willing to do that?”
Shayla’s voice shakes slightly, and her glances in our direction show she’s clearly unnerved by being faced with two, let’s admit it, overbearing men. But she stands her ground which makes her go up in my estimation. “I don’t understand. Why is it such a problem?”
“Can’t hide what she is,” I say, bluntly.
I’ll give her one thing, she cares for that kid. It’s obvious as Shayla bristles. “She’s—”
“A lovely girl,” I put in fast, softening my voice again and making an upward curve of my lips. “Pretty as a picture,” adding, “Ain’t you, sweetheart?” when I see her peering at me through her fingers. “Bet you’re pretty bright too. Just, you’ve got something different to bring to the table than most other people.” I doubt she understands me, but her rocking ceases, and that smile reappears.
“They’ll help, we’ll help,” Vi tells her. While Shayla doesn’t know it, Vi means the club, not just the men but the old ladies too. “But to do that, they,” she points first to Mace, then indicates me, “need to know your story, that of Esme too. I’ll keep her amused so you can go into details, I guess you may not want her to hear.”
“You’re free to go, Shayla. We’ll not keep Esme or you here if you’d prefer to leave, but I’ll hazard a guess you’ve got yourself into something you need help getting out of. Something isn’t right, that’s fuckin’ obvious.” Mace’s voice thunders out again, making Shayla jump and turn around. I indicate with my hand; he should calm his tone down. Shayla’s like a cat on a hot tin roof, and she’ll run if we don’t keep things quiet.
He takes my cue, and offers more gently, “You don’t know us, darlin’, but we know the half of it now. We’ve seen the name�
��” He doesn’t repeat it, knowing how it set Esme off before. “Now we know it, what happens if we start asking around?”
“You can’t!” comes her horrified objection. “Please…” Shayla draws her hands down her face and looks at the girl by her side. When her eyes meet mine, there’s defeat in them, but she nods. “Esme?” She waits for a moment until she gets the girl’s attention. “Why don’t you go with Violet? Violet draws pictures. You can show her what you can do if she has a pencil and paper you can use.”
Esme looks around at Vi who’s smiling and holding out her hand. “What do you like to draw, Esme?”
Esme checks in with Shayla and mouths something.
“Dogs. Cats. Any animal really,” Shayla answers for her. It’s clear she’s making an effort to hide her fear from the girl. “Go on, Esme. Go show Vi what you can do.”
“I like drawing animals as well,” Vi tells her. “Shall we both draw unicorns?” Vi puts her arms up to her forehead. “They’ve got two horns, haven’t they?”
Esme shakes her head violently, and holds up just one of her hands, with her forefinger pointed straight up.
Vi giggles. “I’m silly, aren’t I? Unicorns only have one horn. I must be thinking of a cow.”
Esme seems comfortable to go off with the woman who clearly wouldn’t recognise a unicorn if she met one.
As soon as the door closes behind them, I ask, “Doesn’t she speak?”
Shayla draws in a deep shuddering breath, then her eyes find mine. “I’m scared. Scared of talking to you, scared of not in case I’m turning help down. I’m scared to get up every morning, scared to breathe. I’m scared for Esme… Scared all the time.”
Resting my hands on the desk, I try to gentle my features. “We can help you, Shayla. Or we’ll give it a fuckin’ good try. Reckon you need someone on your side.”
Shayla looks like she’s having an internal battle. Sitting back again, I fold my arms. The ball is in her court now. It’s her decision whether to trust us or not. I see the moment her shoulders slump, as if the offer of having someone to share her burden is too much to turn down.
She speaks so quietly, I struggle to hear her. “Esme can talk, but she won’t. Not now. When… when I first met her, she was chatty. Too talkative. Well, let’s say she was told to shut up one too many times.”
I hear Mace’s growl. Then he finds his voice. “Who’s this fuckin’ Major?”
Shayla’s eyes glisten.
Mace moves away from his place by the door and instead takes the chair Esme had vacated. “Darlin’, I can think of only one reason why two women have the same ‘Property of’ tattoo, especially when one is a minor.” I watch her face as he speaks and know we’ve got one part of our answer by her expression. He continues, “What we don’t know is who this motherfucker is, and whether you’re still in danger. So, here’s one question for you. You come to the end of your journey, or are you still on the run?”
She seems relieved we’ve supplied our own answer. “We don’t stay in one place long, if that’s the answer you’re looking for. I don’t even know if he’s still looking, but I can’t risk him finding out where we are. The less anyone knows, the better for us.”
Mace nods and looks thoughtful. “Satan’s Devils understand property patches all too well. If one of our brothers finds a woman he intends to spend his life with, and she’s of the same mind, she gets his tattoo. She’s proud as fuck to wear it. You know why?” When Shayla looks incredulous and raises and lowers her shoulders quickly, he continues, “Because it shows he loves her and so much more. She’s protected, not just by him, but all of his brothers. They’d die before anything happened to her. Anything happens to him? They’ll be there for her. It’s more than a wedding ring in our eyes, it’s more of a commitment.”
She stares at him for a moment, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “Does Violet have a property patch? She said she was married to your prez.”
“She does,” I reply. “She designed it, I did the ink.”
She looks dumbfounded that anyone would wear such a tat voluntarily. “My experience of property patches is different.”
I place my elbows on the desk, and my chin on my clasped hands. Watching her carefully, I tell her, “Vi loves her property patch as it shows she belongs to her man, and her man, as he wanted her to wear it, belongs to her. She’s got a leather cut with the same words on it. So, any fucker can see who’ll he’ll have to take on if he lays so much as a hand on her. Now, if someone wanted to remove or cover her tattoo, Demon would shred him to pieces.”
“Vi would probably help,” Mace puts in, to lighten the mood.
I throw him a quick grin before continuing, “A property patch is important shit. That’s not to say they’re never covered or removed. Relationships break down in all walks of life. A man might die, his woman might move on. But if a man still regards a woman as his, then the removal of the tattoo is as fuckin’ serious as a heart attack.”
“Why are you telling me this?” She’s gone tense. “Are you telling me you’re not going to help after all? That if Major has marked me as his, you think I should return to him?” Her hand goes to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Are you going to send us back?”
“No, no,” I say firmly and fast. “Mace told you what patches mean to us, as wanting someone to wear their name is a big deal and not done lightly. We view property one way, as something to be cherished, cared for and protected. Major obviously uses the word to show ownership. I will cover your tattoo, hide it completely, no ifs or buts about that, Shayla. But we do need to know who Major is. Helping you might bring trouble to our door, and we need to be prepared to face it.”
Her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about what it might mean for you. We’ll go—”
“Hey, hold up.” Mace waits for her eyes to come to his. “Trouble is what we live for, sweetheart. We just need to know who we’re dealing with. You think you can get your tat covered,” his hand waves toward the door through which Esme had disappeared, “hers too, then disappear into the night. What if Major finds you? Gets out of you where you had the work done? What if he’s circulating your picture around and someone has seen you coming in and out of here? Lands us with a heap of problems, trouble, and we don’t know where it’s coming from. So one, we need information to work with and two, I want to help you. I’ve got a feeling all of the club will have your back when you finally tell us what’s going on.”
She stares intently at him, then turns those eyes with such hidden depths to me. She shudders, an action which shakes her whole body. Then slowly, she nods. “I worked on the outskirts of Vegas. I went into town to drop off some paperwork for my boss. I knew the accountant, and when he asked me out for a drink, I went. By the time I walked back to my car, it was dark—”
“He didn’t escort you?” I butt in.
“No.” She seems surprised. “It wasn’t a relationship, just two colleagues socialising. I wouldn’t have expected it.” She shakes her head as if dismissing the very notion while I inwardly seethe. Doesn’t matter if the woman means something or not, she shouldn’t be walking the streets alone at night. A glance at Mace’s tense face shows he’s of the same opinion.
“Anyway,” she continues, “it was dark. Suddenly arms were pulling me into an alley, then something was put over my nose and mouth… When I woke up…” her eyes close, and Mace reaches out his hand to take hers. When she startles and pulls hers away, he holds up both palms toward her in apology.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s me, I…”
“Just tell us the rest.” Her reaction needs no explanation.
“When I came to, that’s when I met Major. He said I was now his to do with what he wanted. It was only the next day I was forced to have this tattoo. They restrained me, held me down, I couldn’t move. Then, he and his men raped me.”
She says it so coldly, so matter-of-factly. Rage boils inside as I crease shut my eyes, trying to avoid even thinking of the pi
cture she’s painting. I’d imagined the worst and I’d been right to do so.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Mace’s hands are clenched as though ready to beat someone to a pulp. I watch him fight to hold himself together, eventually doing so enough to spit out, “He’s a pimp, and you were an unwilling part of his stable.” His tone is chilling, letting me know if he ever comes face-to-face with the man, Major will be in a world of pain he would be unable to imagine. I’ll be right there behind him.
Shayla sobs. “I didn’t make it easy for him. I fought, I was punished. I tried to escape, no chance, I was brought back. I kicked men in the balls, they retaliated.” She shakes her head and winces. “They used tasers so my skin wouldn’t be marked.” Her flat tone of voice as she pronounces her final words make goosebumps break out on my skin. “He broke me.”
Mace is likewise affected. Standing and turning, he bangs his fist against the wall. “Motherfucker,” he snarls.
Now she’s started, Shayla’s going to complete her story. “Once I was totally compliant, he put me to work. He’s a pimp, yes. A high-end one. He’d dress me up pretty, send me out with some of his men to pre-arranged appointments. Sometimes alone, sometimes with another woman. We had to do whatever his clients wanted. I was his property, as he told me time after time. I belonged to him, and being marked as I am, I could never escape him. I’m surprised he didn’t add his phone number and a ‘if found please return to’ address on the tattoo. Of course, I didn’t suggest that to him.”
“I can fuckin’ understand why you want that tat gone,” Mace turns and states, his face taut with rage.
“All his girls were tattooed?” It’s an obvious statement though I’d intoned it as a query.
She nods. “Yes. To show we belonged to him.”
“Was Esme already there?” I’m barely holding on to my rage at the thought that sweet girl had been through the same things as Shayla.
Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6 Page 10