Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6

by Manda Mellett

  He nods. “I understand your wife has been talking about how to continue your treatment.” He holds out his hand to me, I take it, trying to clasp my fingers around his. “This is our last session,” he says as he shakes it. “I’ll sign you off as fit to be discharged as far as your physical abilities go. Good luck, Mr James.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Vanna

  The next day I’m descending the staircase with my small suitcase in my hand, a sullen Cas following behind me, still muttering under his breath.

  “I don’t see why we have to leave.”

  Praying God grants me patience, I don’t bother explaining again. Liz is so adamant he wants nothing to do with the Satan’s Devils MC, there’s no way I can bring him here. Even though I’m turning down a job offer in order to take him back to the town where I’m very much unemployed. After I’ve spent what’s left of my last paycheck, I don’t even know how I’ll be able to make rent.

  I’ve been through many options in my head. I’ve even tried to look for a place here in Pueblo but there’s nothing available in my budget. No, the only answer is to do as Liz expects, and that’s for Cas and me to return to Denver and take him with us, and hope for the best.

  But Cas doesn’t want to leave. Part of it, I suspect, is that he’s scared of no longer being the man of the house. That worries me too. I’ve seen glimpses of conflict between my son and his father and know it’s not going to be easy to have Lizard transition back into our lives.

  I pause on the bottom step, as three people are blocking my way.

  “So, what are the main differences, Shayla?” Mace asks.

  The woman shrugs. “Tractors produce torque as their purpose is pulling. Cars, bikes and trucks carry shit. They’ve got suspension, tractors haven’t. Oh, and they’re not tuned for speed.”

  “You’re doing okay, though,” Pyro butts in. “Sure, suspension is something you’re overly familiar with, but we can work on that.”

  “So cars are built for comfort?” Mace chuckles.

  “Sort of,” Shayla replies.

  “Excuse us.” Deep in discussion, they haven’t noticed me or Cas. Now I’ve attracted attention, I notice Mace’s sharp eyes on my suitcase.

  “Thought you were collecting Lizard and bringing him back here?”

  Cas says in a low tone, “I fucking wish we were.”

  I silence him with one practiced mom look, then turn back to the man who’d asked. “I wish I could, Mace. But he’s not the man you knew, he’s the man he was before he joined the club. He gets agitated whenever I try to speak of you. He thinks he hates what you stand for.”

  “And what the fuck does he think we’re about?” Pyro snarls.

  “He thinks you’re a gang—into criminal stuff.”

  “You didn’t think of telling him the truth at all?” Mel’s husband snaps.

  “What do you think?” It’s my turn to spit the words out. I’ve tried and tried, being convinced it would be the best solution all around to stay at the club. But Liz was equally adamant he wasn’t going to consider it for a moment. Nothing I could say could defend them adequately, as I haven’t known them long, and Liz thought they’d hidden their bad side from me—because they wanted their foot soldier back.

  “Demon’s not going to like it,” Mace warns.

  “It’s for the best,” I tell him, going back over the similar arguments I’d had with Cas and had used to convince myself Lizard might be right. “His brain’s still healing. Maybe in time he’ll remember the club and want to come back. I wouldn’t get in his way or stop him—”

  “You sure about that?” Mace growls. “From where I’m standing, you’re probably glad to get your man to yourself, but don’t forget Vanna. He’s ours too. He’s our fuckin’ brother.”

  “I’ve told her that,” Cas barks out. “She won’t listen.”

  I throw up my hands. “It’s not me you have to convince, but him. Come on, Cas. Your dad will be waiting for us.”

  I walk off, expecting, hoping, my son will follow. To my relief, he does.

  It’s what I’ve always wanted isn’t it? For my husband to come home, and then all will be right with the world. So why, I think, as I get into my car, automatically checking Cas is fastening his seat belt, do I feel I’m leaving the best support I could have had behind? Help I might well come to need.

  You’re on your own, Vanna. Just as you always have been. Yeah. That sounds about right.

  When we get to the hospital, Cas is sullen and Liz impatient. Sorting his discharge papers out takes a while, particularly as he can’t hold a pen and has to sign left-handed. At last a wheelchair and volunteer appears, and with his crutches balanced over his legs, he’s wheeled through the hospital and outside.

  As soon as he’s able to, he stands, and after placing the crutches under his arms, balances on his own two feet.

  “Where are you parked?”

  “There.” I point out the modest model car which is all I can afford. It’s good enough, getting me from A to B.

  He looks at it and shakes his head. “Fuck, this must have been a new model when Cas was two, Vanna. You had it all that time?”

  “No, I had our old Honda, you remember that? Well, it died, and this was cheap. It runs okay, so it suits us.”

  “My friend’s dad’s car’s amazing. Does everything automatically,” Cas excitedly tells him, getting onto one of his favourite subjects. “Automatic wipers, lights which dip themselves. All-around parking sensors and blind spot warnings.”

  “Sounds like a load of useless crap to me,” Liz complains. “All a car needs is an engine, gearbox and steering. Long as it starts and stops that’s all that matters.”

  As I pull out of the parking lot and onto the main road, Cas sits back in his seat again, his arms folded. Guess all that sounds like science fiction to Liz, and Cas’s attempt at conversation had failed.

  “Can we have the radio on, Mom?”

  Well, listening to music would be better than trying to make small talk with a son in a bad mood and a husband who doesn’t seem much better. I’m just reaching for the knob when I hear a motorcycle engine. No, more than one. Then at least a dozen appear in the mirror. A couple overtake us, I wait for the rest to go past, but they don’t. They arrange themselves all around us, in front, to my rear, and one in the lane outside of me.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Liz sits forward, his head moving in all directions as he takes in the threat that surrounds us.

  Damn it. I indicate right, and one of the bikes blocks my turnoff lane. Glancing to my side, I see Beef, and he’s pointing ahead. It doesn’t take a genius to understand what they want of me.

  “That sign said Denver,” Liz says tersely. “Knock that asshole off his fuckin’ bike.”

  “Don’t you dare, Mom. That’s Judge!”

  “How the fuck do you know who they are?” Liz snarls over his shoulder at Cas, but just as quickly looks back to me. “Where’s your phone, Vanna? I’ll call the police.”

  Quickly I reach down, pick up my purse and throw it in the back seat. Cas picks it up and holds it tight in his hands.

  “No police.” The last thing I want to do is summon the law on our friends.

  “Vanna,” Liz growls. “Unless you mow those fuckers down, they’re going to direct us where they want us to go. That’s fuckin’ kidnapping.”

  “There’s another turnoff up here,” I tell him calmly.

  But no, the bikers are ahead of me, and again foil my attempt to get on the right road.

  “They’re not letting us go, Mom.” Cas’s voice sounds full of glee, and a glance in the rearview mirror shows him grinning.

  If I didn’t sense it would annoy my husband, I’d be grinning as well. But I keep my face impassive. “Guess we’re going to the compound.”

  “Cas. Give me your mom’s phone. Now, boy. Fuckin’ obey me.”

  But Cas doesn’t, and I give up trying to get back on the correct route. Well, we’re
almost there now, let’s see how this is going to play out.

  I don’t know what Demon has in mind, or whether he’s prepared for just how angry the man at my side is going to be.

  The gates slide open. Surrounded by bikes, I drive through. Knowing what to do, I continue driving around the back, and park next to the club’s SUVs and trucks. When I turn off the engine, silence descends.

  “Don’t fuckin’ park, Vanna. Turn around and drive out. Ram the gates if they’ve closed them.”

  I sigh deeply. “Lizard. This is your home, your family. Give them a chance.”

  “They’re a criminal gang,” he hisses. “What’s this all about Vanna? You like the biker lifestyle? You been fuckin’ around on me?”

  Tears come into my eyes. This wasn’t where I planned to end up today, but in God’s honest truth, I don’t know the man sitting beside me.

  “I don’t care what relation you are to me,” comes an irate voice from the back seat, “but you don’t make my mom cry.”

  For an answer, Liz opens the door and gets out. His attempt to storm off fails when his right leg gives way, and he ends up sprawled on the ground.

  “Way to make an entrance, Brother,” Demon’s voice booms, then he reaches down to lend him a hand up.

  “Get off me. Give me my crutches,” Liz demands, his eyes spitting hatred at the man trying to help him to his feet.

  But in the end, he has to reluctantly accept assistance. When he’s upright, he balances on his wooden supports. “Told you before, I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t want anything to do with you. Now if you’ll get out of our way, Vanna can take me and Cas to Denver.”

  Beef has come to my door and opened it. When I get out, he wipes a tear from my eye, and pulls me in for a brotherly hug. Until his arms surround me, I hadn’t realised how much I needed it.

  Whether Cas expected Liz to magically get his memory back as soon as we arrived in Liz’s old home, or whether his dad being this way had simply upset him, he gets out of the car, looking lost.

  “Come here, lil’ Bro.” Mace waves him over, and pulls him in, then lets him go with a back slap.

  Liz’s eyes go from me in Beef’s arms to Cas standing next to Mace, then his shoulders slump. “So that’s the way of it, is it? Well there’s no fuckin’ way I’m staying here. Vanna.” His focus comes back to me. “Too much has obviously happened. It was a fucking dream I could step back into your life.” He pauses, then looks at Demon. “Look, I’ve got no argument with you man, as long as you let me go. Just give me a phone and I’ll call Hatch. He’ll come and collect me.”

  His president doesn’t attempt to sugarcoat what I’ve kept from my man. “Hatch is dead, Liz. He died ten years back. His death is what brought you to us.”

  Lizard is stunned. Flummoxed, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with that piece of information. After his mouth opens and shuts a few times, he queries, “Dead? Hatch is gone? He can’t be.”

  “Come inside,” Demon suggests, his tone softened. “If you want to know how it happened, I’ll tell you about it. We came to the funeral with you.”

  “He’s dead?” Lizard repeats. He looks at me. I don’t have to say anything, he can see the truth on my face.

  It seems Lizard’s sorrow over the death of his friend at least temporarily trumps his distaste at being here. When Demon steps back and indicates the back entrance to the club, the one that leads in through the kitchen, Liz follows him as though in a daze.

  “Who’s Hatch?” Cas asks, quietly.

  “Your dad’s friend. Another Marine.”

  We’re right behind him as he steps inside. It’s Saturday and from the delicious aroma Mel’s here and baking.

  “Well you’re a sight for sore eyes, Liz.” Steph makes a beeline for him. “Will you break if I hug you?”

  Her eyes aren’t quite looking at him. “You blind?” he says bluntly. “If you are, how the fuck do you know it’s me?”

  “Your smell, of course. Mind you, it’s all disinfectant and hospital aromas. Not your normal sweaty armpits for once.” Her lips quirk.

  Liz clearly doesn’t know what to make of her, and just suffers her attentions when her arms go around him.

  “Unhand my woman,” says Beef, stepping forward and claiming her, his arms wrapping around her tightly, and pulling her back.

  “Want a cinnamon bun, Liz? I baked them ‘specially for you.” Mel’s holding out a tub. “They’re your favourites.” Liz steadies himself on one crutch, takes it automatically, then puts it down unopened on the counter.

  “Liz, you don’t know how good it is to see you back,” Vi steps in, carrying Theo.

  Lizard’s eyes open wide. “What are you lot? Whores for the club?”

  “They’re our old ladies,” Demon tells him sharply, his tone full of warning. “And I don’t care if your brain is fucked up, Brother. You’ll treat them with some fuckin’ respect. Now come with me. We’ve got some talking to do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mace

  We took a risk today. If Vanna had been serious about taking Lizard back to Denver, or Lizard being determined to go, that steering wheel could have been wrenched to the side and one of us could have ended up dirty side down. Deep down Vanna must have wanted to come back to the club, she hadn’t taken much persuasion to bring Lizard. Had that been relief I’d seen in her eyes once she’d arrived?

  If it was, I can see why. I’m having difficulty reconciling the man I’ve known as my brother for the past ten years with the angry person in front of me. If it wasn’t that I hoped the man I knew was still inside, and that I could blame the swelling in his head for the way he is now, he’d already have had my fist in his face.

  I’m not sure what I expected. Him to walk in and magically become our Lizard again? Well, fuck that. He doesn’t know us at all, and nothing in the club seems familiar. It’s easier now to understand why Vanna had let him go after two years of trying to live with a man who didn’t know her. Already, after a few minutes, I’m thinking of doing just that.

  As I follow Demon toward his office, I know we’ve got to try, even though all our efforts might fail. Christ, I just hope the man I loved as my brother is still in there, somewhere.

  Demon goes to sit behind his desk and waves Liz to a seat. I refrain from offering assistance even though Liz has difficulty manoeuvring the crutches and getting himself seated. Beef sits to one side, Thunder pulls up the other chair. I stand in my normal position, leaning with my back against the door. Liz doesn’t know it, but he’s being given an audience with the senior officers of the club.

  Lizard rubs his hand over his face, and doesn’t waste time asking, “Hatch?”

  Prez explains what happened ten years ago, and how Lizard came to the club, Liz’s face going through a variety of emotions as he does so. “You were cut up, Liz. We gave you a place to stay. You liked it, liked us. After the funeral, you became a prospect. Got patched in a year later.” As Liz looks dumbfounded, Prez leans forward. “You gave us a chance then, just asking that now you give us another.”

  “I remember nothing,” Liz states, after taking a moment to digest this information. “Hatch, darn it. Should be able to remember his death. Seems disrespectful to the man not to recall it.” I want to say it’s not his fault, but he’s continuing, “I fucking hate this, I don’t know who I am. Seems I was first one man, Vanna’s husband and a Marine. But he went overseas, came back with a brain injury, and turned into someone else, a biker if you are to be believed. Now I’ve had a fuckin’ tumour removed, and I’m a different man all over again. If what you say is true, and I really was a part of this, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But maybe it’s wrong for me to be here, I might not now see the club the way you say I did. Everyone here is a stranger.”

  Demon sits back in his chair and folds his arms. “And so we were once before. We invited you into the fold, and were no longer strangers, but friends and brothers. Nothing to say we can’t do
that again. I’m Demon, we’ve already met. Sitting to your right is Beef, the VP, and Thunder, sergeant-at-arms is on your left. Behind you is Mace, he’s the enforcer.”

  “Names tell me nothing.” The news of his friend’s death seems to make Lizard less combative. “Hatch’s death, well that’s as raw to me now as it probably was then. I can’t remember him moving to Denver, but I can see myself leaning on him when I split from Vanna. His death would have hit me hard. Probably hoped to find my own at the hands of the club, or of your enemies. Or hell, by just the life that you lead.”

  “What life do we lead, Liz?” Demon’s deceptively calm.

  Liz shrugs and tells us what he believes, “A criminal one.”

  “Wrong,” says the VP. “You’ve met my wife. You think she’d be involved in a criminal lifestyle? And Mel, Pyro’s woman, bakes muffins for fuck’s sake, she doesn’t cook up meth.”

  “We run clean businesses. Wouldn’t touch drugs with a ten-foot pole and don’t deal in guns. Sure, we run a strip club, but the dancers are there voluntarily, and no one is forced. It’s a job for them, like any other.” I’m angry he’s given us such a label. “We’ve got a bowling alley as well.”

  “You run our tattoo parlour,” Thunder puts in. “A fuckin’ good one with a good rep.”

  With his left hand, Lizard lifts his right. “Won’t be any fuckin’ good to you there now.”

  “You not going to recover?” Beef asks sharply.

  “I could do or could not. Doctors know fuck all.”

  Prez eyes Lizard for a moment. “See, here’s the thing, Lizard. You’ve lived here at the compound for ten years. All your shit is here, your clothes, your bike. You’ve got a room, maybe not much, but it’s your home.”

  “I don’t remember,” Lizard says tersely.

  Prez ignores him. “You’ve never been to Vanna’s house. You’ve got nothing of yours there, not even a change of underwear. You don’t know her situation. I know she’s lost her job, and I’ve offered her a new one. Temporarily, at least.”