My bet is that Shayla will need to relearn that as well after her time in Major’s hands.
When I return inside, Vi and Esme are no longer at her station. I head on back and find the four of them in Lizard’s office, open soda cans in front of them, and more candy has magically appeared. Leaning over, careful not to touch her, I swipe a bar that’s in front of Esme.
I’m rewarded with a glare, followed by a frightened look. But that fades at my wink, and she gives a tentative grin.
“Thieving asshole,” Liz rebukes me.
“Language,” I tell him. Having spent the weekend with Cas and Vanna, an idea comes into my head. I turn my eyes on the girl. “Liz said a rude word. I think he owes us a dollar, don’t you, Esme?”
I’m not sure of her level of comprehension, but she seems to understand at least that. Lizard’s forehead creases, then he gives me a chin lift, takes out his wallet and passes over a bill. Esme stares at it.
I chuckle and instruct, “Take it. It’s yours.”
She glances at Shayla who gives her a nod, while shooting me a curious glance. Suddenly, I realise all the brothers are going to hate me for starting this up. But hey, if Esme gets the confidence to start demanding payment when they swear, maybe it will do her some good.
“You spoke to Prez?”
I nod, then turn to Shayla. “We’ve told you we’re about respect, family and keeping women safe. The club would like you to come to stay with us on the compound while we work out what danger you’re still in from Major.”
Her eyes widen in horror. “Stay with you? With bikers? No, we couldn’t do that.” She looks between me and Liz, blood draining from her face. “Come on, Esme, time to—”
It’s Vi who steps in and interrupts. “Hold up a minute, Shayla. The compound is secure and can be protected, far safer than being out on the streets. My man is the prez, and what he says goes and,” she leans in conspiratorially as if Liz and I can’t hear her, “in turn, he’ll do anything I say.” I smirk at her suggestion, but there’s probably some truth there. Especially if she uses sex as a weapon. “No one will touch you or harm you, I can promise you that. Once Devils extend their protection, well, you can be assured you’ll be safe. The last place Major will expect to find you is living with us.”
Shayla studies her, as if estimating how sincere she is.
Seeing an in, Vi enlightens her, “I’ve got an eighteen-month-old boy, the bikers all love him. It’s not all men either, there are other old lady’s too. Jayden is a nursery nurse, she loves kids, and I bet she’ll take to Esme. Steph is our VP’s woman, she’s blind and is amazing with it. She’s got a lovely guide dog. Beth, well she’s a giant who’s with Ink, and then there’s Mel. She’s pregnant and we’re all treating her so damn carefully as she miscarried last time she was expecting. She bakes, and oh, the cakes she makes. They are to die for.”
I find myself licking my lips at the reminder. “Don’t forget Jeannie, she’s been around the club for getting on forty years. And Mo, the ex-prez’s old lady. And Sindy who’s… with Buzzard.” I nearly said who’s Buzzard’s, but at the last moment remembered to change the wording she probably would object to.
Shayla’s not at all certain. Her face tightens. “What will the men expect for payment?”
“Nothing,” I say fast, wondering if I should explain why. She’s going to find out pretty soon if she comes back with us, so might as well get this out in the open now. “We’re not in need of unwilling women, Shayla. Got girls of our own who live at the club and cater to our needs. Oh, no.” I hold up my hand to stop her at that twist of distaste. “They’re there for mutual satisfaction, stay because their needs align with ours. They choose to be with us, can leave at any time, but bikers hold a certain attraction for them.”
“Whores?” she says with not a little concern.
I shrug. It is what it is.
Vi’s lips press together. “Can’t say I’m enamoured of them, Shayla, but the thing is as Mace has said, they want to be there. In your position, I wouldn’t understand it either, but they enjoy the… loving they get.” She too tempers her words in front of Esme. “The fact is, no one needs to pressure you because they’ve already got willing girls.”
Shayla still seems unconvinced. It’s Lizard who comes up with a suggestion. “Why don’t you come back with us, see what you’d be getting into? I swear on the lives of my brothers that you will be free to leave at any time. Not swapping one captor for another, Shayla. I fuckin’ assure you of that.” Proving he learns quickly, a dollar passes from his hands to Esme’s before I can prompt him.
Seeing Shayla’s wavering, I add one final word on the matter. “We don’t know who Major is and whether you’re with us or not, we won’t stop digging. The info we find, you’ll want to hear first-hand. Maybe you’re right to keep running, maybe Major stays in his own turf and has given up looking for you. Whichever it is, I swear to you we’ll find the answer.”
Shayla looks at him, at Vi, then finally those haunted eyes land on me. She nods toward the money that Esme is holding. “You’re about as far from Major as anyone can be. I think I trust you, Mace, and you, Lizard, too. But it’s hard to believe there are more like you. If you give me your word we won’t be held against our will, we’ll come back with you and see if we’ll fit.”
Leaning down, I untie the sheaf on my ankle, take out the knife, and press it into her hand. “Keep this on you, darlin’. You won’t have to use it, I promise. But you’re not unarmed or helpless.”
I’ve surprised her. Taking advantage of her capitulation, I waste no time, summoning Dirt with the truck and texting a few extra instructions.
Half an hour later when we’ve drunk our sodas, demolished the candy, and Liz and Shayla have admired Esme’s drawing she’d done, which I’d retrieved from the drawer and brought back to show them. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. Dirt walks in, accompanied by a three-legged Chesapeake Bay Retriever.
Esme’s eyes go large and she can’t seem able to focus anywhere else. Bagel, apparently named because of the light chestnut brown colour of his wavy coat, seems likewise to be drawn to her. With a tail that’s wagging furiously, he limps his way over and plonks his head in her lap.
And fuck me, she giggles. It’s the first actual sound I’ve heard from her.
“You sure about this, Mace?” Dirt sounds anxious.
“Yeah, Prez has already said you could bring him around. I’ll let Beef know so he can manage Max.” Max, Steph’s guide dog, has been known to object to canine interlopers in the clubhouse, but on that occasion, it was a sniffer dog accompanying cops who were ripping the clubhouse apart. I suspect he’d picked up a vibe from us.
Dirt and Nails were both injured when their Army jeep hit an IED. Bagel had been in the truck with them, and only the three survived. They’d formed a strong bond between them. I knew Dirt was worried about bringing his dog to the club, but I thought as Esme enjoyed drawing animals, it was a fair bet she liked them, and having one with her when she entered a strange place full of men might ease her mind.
Dirt holds out the looped end of the leash. “Want to hold on to him, sweetie?”
Esme’s wide eyes suggest she very well might. Being a well-trained ex-Army dog, I suspect he doesn’t need much controlling.
Chapter Thirteen
Lizard
I’m not sure whether my brother might have grown a vagina. Just this weekend he was being supportive to a kid and his mom that he said he was no more than friends with, and today he’s taken Shayla and Esme under his wing. I’ll give credit where credit’s due though, getting Dirt to bring his three-legged dog was a stroke of genius. The girl had seemed entranced from the moment she’d met him.
On our bikes, Mace and I arrive back at the compound shortly before Dirt, following more slowly in the truck. We find Prez has already summoned the brothers in, most of whom were already in church awaiting our arrival. When I see Prez hovering in the clubroom, I suspect he’s got
the rest out of the way, so Shayla and Esme aren’t overwhelmed at the start.
“They’re coming then?”
At his question, I cup my hand to my ear, hearing a sound of an engine and then it cutting out. “That’s them pulling up now.”
The three of us turn to look expectantly at the entrance. Dirt opens the door, then steps aside so Shayla can enter. She looks nervous, even scared, but Vi is right beside her, an encouraging touch on her arm. Bagel, seeing Nails coming out from behind the bar, steps forward, bringing Esme along with him at the other end of his leash.
Prez waits where he is, allowing Shayla to come inside at her own speed.
“This is it.” Vi flourishes her arms around her. “It might not be much, but it’s home.”
Shayla turns to her. “The gates shut behind us.” She sounds almost accusing.
“Gates keep people out as well as people in,” Demon’s voice booms. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to, or free to leave at any time.” He steps forward, but before he closes the gap between him and the newcomers, he pulls Vi into his arms, lowering his head and taking her lips, as one hand moves protectively over her belly making me wonder whether they’ve got news they haven’t yet shared. “You okay?” he asks, quietly, when he ends their demonstrative kiss.
“I’m good,” she replies. Then turns to the females behind her. “Ladies,” she includes Esme in her description, “this is my husband, Demon. He’s the prez of the Satan’s Devils.”
I notice Shayla relaxes slightly at Demon’s evident care for the woman at his side, an almost envious look crossing her face as she bears witness to their obvious love for each other. More tension fades when a shrill voice screeches, “Mommy!” and little Theo comes into sight, barrelling toward Vi.
Intercepting him, Demon swings him up into his arms and the big stern MC prez tickles his son, making him scream and laugh. When he wriggles, he puts him down.
“Max! Max!” an annoyed female voice sounds.
I swing to see Max galloping across the clubroom, screeching to a halt just in front of the strange dog.
“Max!” Steph shouts again, but for once, her dog ignores her.
“I’m sorry.” Nails moves up beside her.
“My fault,” calls Mace. “I told them they could bring Bagel here. To help settle Esme.”
“Bagel? Esme?” Steph sounds completely confused.
“Long story,” says Vi. “But Max and Bagel seem to be getting along.”
Well, I suppose if dogs mutually sniffing rear ends while moving around in a circle is anything to go by, they are. At least no hackles are raised and there’s no growling.
Vi walks over to Steph and takes her arm, then glances back to Shayla and Esme, the latter seeming entranced by the two dogs who seem fast on the way to becoming friends. “Come with us. The women will be in the kitchen. It’s our own private space.” Once the two start to follow her, I hear her grumble, “I keep on at D to build us a proper place out back, a living room, TV area just for ourselves but their gym takes precedence for now. But he’ll get around to it one day.” Her voice fades as she reaches her destination.
“Will he?” Mace asks, a smirk on his face as he regards Prez.
“Probably,” Demon responds, fondly looking in the direction his woman disappeared in and gives a resigned shake of his head. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”
The conversation dies down quickly as we enter our meeting room, brothers all dying from curiosity, wanting to know why we’ve yet more strangers on the compound, female ones at that.
Thunder looks across the table at Mace. “You got a new habit of picking up strays?”
“First one wasn’t interested, Brother. See how soon he’s moved on to the next?” Pyro thinks he’s a barrel of laughs.
“Alright, zip it.” Demon bangs the gavel. “Who’s going to start? Liz or Mace.”
Pressing my fingers to my forehead, I let Mace carry on. I’ve got another of my fuckin’ tension headaches that’s starting to build. Knowing the punchline, I concentrate on fighting back the pain, content to let him bring everyone up to speed.
“Liz?”
When I look up, it seems like it’s not the first time someone’s been trying to get my attention.
“Headache?” asks Mace, his voice carrying both concern and sympathy.
“Here.” Paladin shoots a packet of Advil down the table. Gratefully, I swallow a couple dry.
“What d’you need?” I say at last, hoping the tablets work quickly.
“We were talking about Esme’s tat, whether at her age, it’s better to get laser treatment to remove it.” Prez’s words are spoken tightly, and I glance around, noting all my brothers’ faces look thunderous. Though I’d zoned out of the discussion, I take it they’re as fucking upset by the situation as I am.
When I place my head into my hands this time, it’s not just to ease the ache, it’s because I’m thinking. Finally, I respond. “That shit will take multiple treatments, and the tats coloured as fuck. The writing is black, so they’ll be able to get rid of that, but the likelihood is they’ll only be able to fade the rest, and something of it will remain. It’s best done by a professional, someone who knows what they’re doing. Removal is not without pain and can easily get infected. I don’t know if she’d be able to look after it well enough, even with Shayla’s help.” My hands clench as I think of the bastard who’s the reason we’re discussing removing a tat from an underaged and mentally challenged girl. “I’d prefer to cover it.”
“I wonder where she’s from?” asks Pal. “Surely, a kid like that would be missed? It’s not as if she’s an unruly teenager likely to run off.” He pauses. “Unless she was already being treated like shit.”
Cad nods. “I’ve been thinking that myself. You’re right, Pal. It seems unusual for a girl like that to just be walking the streets and be picked up. The woman got any idea how they took her?”
Mace answers, “She didn’t say. Esme just appeared one day. I don’t know if she was able to tell her. Right now, she’s not talking, so it’s hard to know what her level of comprehension is.”
Cad nods at him. “I can discreetly start looking to see if anyone’s asking questions. If she’s got a loving family, she might be missed. Even a care home would be looking for her.”
“She might have shit parents who sold her for cash because they couldn’t be bothered to fuckin’ look after her.”
“Don’t have much faith in the human race, do you, Rusty?”
“Seen too fuckin’ much, Brother,” the older ginger-haired biker responds to Judge. “She could have been with foster parents who found her too challenging.”
“Do you think Shayla will take responsibility for her, long-term?” Prez asks Mace, then includes me.
“Don’t know much about either of them,” I reply. “Just know I don’t want Major to get his hands back on them. He needs to be removed before they can think about a future.”
Beef says determinedly, “Only thing that man’s getting his hands on is a fuckload of pain and six feet of earth over the top of him.”
Growls, stomps of feet, and fists bumping on tables shows he’s just voicing what we all think.
Prez taps his fingers together, then gives us his thoughts. “Shayla looked nervous as hell when she came in. You’re the kid and woman whisperer, Mace.” He looks at the enforcer with a smirk. “Got any hints for how we should help them settle in?”
Mace rolls his eyes but sits forward looking serious. “I think her first thought was we might want to use her for ourselves.” He waves his hand in a downward motion. “Simmer down, told her that wasn’t the way of it, but she’s not going to trust easily. Not just her, the kid doesn’t want to talk in case she gets fuckin’ tasered or hit. Keep your distance, don’t touch, don’t crowd, and no mention that she’s got boobs or an ass, or not in her hearing.”
“Has she?” asks Sparky.
“She’s a bitch, what do you think?�
� Hell bats him around the head.
“I fuckin’ know that,” Sparky defends himself. “But are they nice?”
Mace groans. “That’s precisely what I’m saying. That’s not the way you should be thinking of her. Look, treat her as you would your sister. She’s out-of-bounds. And before you say you haven’t got one, Sparks, I fuckin’ know you have.”
“Sure wouldn’t want to fuck her.” Sparky puts his fingers in his mouth and pretends to retch.
Mace glares at him which shuts him up. “As far as Esme goes, she’s got this amazing talent. She can draw, really well. I think we ought to encourage that. Praise her, hang her fuckin’ pictures up. Show she’s worth more than what she was sold to provide. And,” he narrows his eyes again, this time his fierce expression includes all of us, “she’s a kid, so if you swear in front of her, cough up.”
“What?” Various people ask in various tones of astonishment.
“She’s already had me for five dollars,” I admit. “But Mace has got a good point. Men have been abusing her, not treating her as human. If you do swear, apologise and pay up. Putting a bit of dough in her pockets will make her feel valued.”
“A bit of dough? She’ll fuckin’ bankrupt us,” Bomber groans.
“Won’t do any harm to start watching your language when she’s about,” Prez remarks. “Theo’s starting to talk now, Mel’s expecting. Can’t reprimand kids if their role models use foul language.”
Bomber gasps. “We’ve got to pay them all? Christ, Prez, you’ll need to increase our wages.”
“Kids will end up richer than us,” Wills mumbles.
“Too fuckin’ right,” moans Rusty, to my mind sort of proving the point.
On that note, we break up.
“You okay, Brother? How’s the head?” Mace sounds and looks worried as he waits for me to leave the meeting room.
“Not good,” I reply honestly, touching my hand to my brow. “Think I’m going to lie down for a bit.”
Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6 Page 12