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

by Manda Mellett

  She’s right. It isn’t like I’m at the other side of the world if I needed to get back to Denver. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

  “You can pay me back by introducing me to a hot biker.”

  I bark a laugh. “You never know.”

  We end the call after exchanging a few more pleasantries. As soon as I say my goodbyes, Cas enters the room.

  “You called her?” At my I nod, he adds, “I told you she was okay with it.”

  “Are you alright, Cas? Please tell me you don’t think I’m putting Lizard’s needs in front of yours.”

  “Mom.” His tone is serious as he walks over to me. “I’ve been your top priority since I was born. Sure, though I don’t always admit it, I still need my mom. Can’t see a day when I won’t. But at the moment, Dad needs you more, and you’re right to put him first. Maybe we’ll end up moving here, maybe we won’t. Maybe Dad will make his home with us, or perhaps you won’t be able to make it work. But right now, he’s hurting, Mom.”

  “He could have come back with us to Denver.” Should I feel guilty I don’t want him there? Not this stranger in a place I made for Cas and me.

  “Mom. I don’t know anything about relationships, but this one is so hard. You’ve got to get to know each other all over again, and that’s best done in a place you’ve both got space. Our house is cramped. Crowded together, we could just get on each other’s nerves.”

  “Where did you learn to be so sensible?”

  He grins. “Well, I didn’t get my sense from my mom.” He ducks to miss my playful swipe.

  Half an hour later, he’s getting into an SUV with Dirt driving, with instructions to text me as soon as he arrives which make him and the prospect exchange glances which are heavily based on the rolling of eyes. Then I’m waving him off as Nails opens the gate. I stand, watching the car as they drive out of sight.

  “You’re going to miss him.” Liz tells me what I already know.

  I don’t reply, just think to myself that I’ll feel like I’m missing a limb. I trust Lindy, though. He’s fourteen, not a baby, but I still have tears in my eyes.

  The old Lizard would have held me, comforted me. That he makes no move to do so shows how far apart we are. Perhaps Lindy was right. Taking away the necessity to keep one eye on my son gives me the chance to know whether the feelings I’ve maintained for Liz all these years, apply to the man beside me.

  Over the next week, we settle into a routine. Lindy gives me daily updates and Cas seems to be behaving himself. My son checks in by text, letting me know he’s doing alright, and asking whether Liz is making any improvements.

  He is, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, but that’s to be expected as recovery is bound to take time. He’s still plagued by headaches, and takes a lot of naps, often needing persuasion to rest as the doctor’s had told him. But when I can’t convince him to go and lie down, one of his brothers does so for me. I can see why they elected Mace to enforce the rules, having hidden a smile more than once at the way he barks for Liz to go get his head the fuck down.

  Knowing there’ll be people watching out for Lizard, I don’t need to worry about him as I settle into my new job, finding it’s not demanding at all and enjoying it. Jonah’s a laugh, and while Weston is quiet, he’s pleasant and good at his work. Vi’s relieved to be able to concentrate on what she loves, sketching designs and working a tattoo gun.

  The first week I concentrate on getting the books up-to-date, and by Wednesday afternoon have presented the accounts to Buzzard, who scrutinises them carefully while I shift from foot to foot, feeling like I’ve been summoned in front of the principal. When at last he turns with a smile and a sharp nod, I’m relieved. Seems I’ve done it right after all.

  Friday afternoon it’s Beaver this time who drives up to Denver to collect Cas and bring him back while I’m still at work. The last couple of hours go slowly, and I’m out that door fast when six o’clock comes around.

  Jeannie nods as I enter via the kitchen, having parked around the back. “Cas is in there with Lizard.” She jerks her head toward the clubroom.

  “Mom.” Cas stands as I approach, and soon his arms come around me for a quick hug. Not too long, as it’s not cool to show too much affection for his mom in public.

  “I’ve missed you,” I tell him, holding him at arm’s length and examining him head to toe, just to check he hasn’t lost weight or has visible injuries. Is it my imagination or has he grown taller?

  “I’ve only been gone five days,” he retorts, but he’s grinning.

  Hearing someone clearing their throat, I glance down at Liz. It’s such a hassle getting to his feet, he doesn’t bother to stand, but there’s a big smile on his face.

  “Dad’s hand is better, isn’t it?” Cas tells me.

  Again I look toward Liz, and then at his right hand as he flexes and closes it. Has it improved? If so, it’s a minimal improvement, but possibly more noticeable to Cas who hasn’t seen him all week.

  “You know, I think the boy’s right.” Lizard sounds pleased.

  “It has, Dad,” Cad insists. “See if you can hold this.” He picks up an empty bottle that’s been left on the adjacent table and hands it to him.

  Very, very carefully, Liz tries to hold it in his right hand, and then tries to lift it up. His eyes meet mine and they’re beaming. He couldn’t do that last week. Baby steps, but in the right direction.

  When Cas takes his bag upstairs, I follow him up. His week’s been fine, he tells me, his schoolwork is all good. He got a B on a math test, which is excellent for him. But before I can fully interrogate him, he turns the tables on me.

  “How have you and Dad been, Mom?”

  I can’t tell him any more than we’re much about the same as when he left. I walk to the bed and sit on it. The bed, luckily a large king-size, that tonight I’ll share with my son, and not the man I’m supposed to love. Do I love him? Or am I clinging on to the man I knew before? Is he really the same as he was then? Are the differences because I’ve moved on? Or is he not so much stuck in the past as he thinks? Have his experiences shaped him, even though he can’t remember actual facts or events?

  “Mom.” Cas comes to sit beside me. “To be honest, I’d hoped, but didn’t expect to return to find everything resolved. Of course I want Dad in my life, but I want you happy.” He picks up my left hand, and as he’d done when he was small, turns my wedding ring on my finger. “If Dad had stayed, if he hadn’t been hurt in that explosion, then it could be that you’d have grown apart and gotten divorced. You may not still be together.”

  “I’ve never wanted anyone else, Cas.”

  “Because you always knew he was out there. I wouldn’t have minded, Mom, if you had found someone. As long as I got on with him, of course.”

  “What if Dad and I do get back together? Would you be okay with that?”

  He shrugs. “This is what these weekends are for, aren’t they, Mom? They’re for all of us.”

  Saturday I work, but Sunday the shop is closed, so I’m free to spend the day with Lizard and Cas.

  It’s actually Lizard who comes up with the idea. He approaches it a little awkwardly.

  “Do you want to do something different today?” When I question him with my eyes, he continues, “I’m fed up with these walls around me, and I’m sure you are too. I’ve been talking to Mace. The San Isabel National Forest isn’t too far away, and it’s a lovely day. Of course I won’t be able to walk far, but I thought we could take a picnic. Just get out and get some fresh air.”

  It sounds good to me. “Cas?”

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m up for that.”

  Biting my tongue, I try not to comment. Is this my son? Or has Lindy sent someone else back in his place? Outdoors and picnics are certainly not at the top of the list of things I’d have said he likes to do most.

  Having gotten into this idea that prospects are there to be used, Liz has a quick word with Beef, and only an hour later, Dirt is driving us out in
the SUV. His invite I take because Liz has a lack of confidence in himself and he doesn’t want to be alone with just me and Cas, in case he topples off his crutches or something.

  When we arrive, Liz is the last one out of the vehicle, taking his time to get his crutches into place and under him. While he’s become more practiced with them in the intervening week, now Cas has pointed it out to me, I see there are small improvements. His movements are stronger, and he’s putting a little weight on his right leg. He’s also more confident as he swings himself along, with Dirt hovering close and making himself useful by carrying the picnic basket which Jeannie had prepared.

  It had been a good suggestion to get away from the club. Once Liz has himself settled on a blanket, Dirt makes himself scarce, leaving us alone. The sun shines in a cloudless sky, and a gentle breeze blows the scent of wildflowers and pine our way. The highest peaks of the mountains are still covered with snow. It’s beautiful and peaceful.

  Jeannie’s done us proud, and the food is consumed fast. Cas walks off to explore, and reaching out, I take Liz’s hand.

  “I needed this,” I tell him.

  “How’s work? You getting on okay?”

  “I’m enjoying it.” I wink at him. “Now I’ve sorted out the mess you made of the books.”

  For a moment I wonder whether I should have teased him as there’s a strange look on his face. Then he shakes his head. “You’ve changed so much, Evangeline, but in a good way. So much more confident, so much new knowledge in that head. Back then you were my wife and I loved you, but I never thought you were my equal. Sounds bad, I know. But it was my job to provide and care for you. Now that’s been turned on its head.”

  “Do you mind?” I query, softly. Knowing if we’ve got out of lockstep, there’ll be no pretending we can pick up where we left off. I won’t go back to the woman who simply tends house.

  “You know? I don’t think I do. I admire you, Vanna. Admire who’ve you’ve become. But now I wonder whether I’m good enough for you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Lizard

  Watching Vanna’s face as she has to wave Cas off again after the enjoyable outing we had today, it’s impossible to read what’s in her mind.

  I hadn’t been certain a picnic would be a good idea, or one that would have gone down well with a boy his age, but it turned out to be enjoyable for all of us. A chance to unwind, relax, and be a family unit for a few hours.

  Now Vanna’s being parted from her son again. She’s sad, that’s easy to see, and clearly hates to be apart from him. That she needs to be is down to me. Does she resent it? Resent me? I don’t know.

  Something holds me back from stepping in and offering her comfort. It’s not just the crutches I still need as support that prevent me taking her into my arms.

  I don’t know my place anymore.

  It would have been a mistake to try to pick up from where I’d believed I’d left off, before my career in the Marines had ended so abruptly with that blow to my head. Vanna is not the same woman she was then. Am I still the same man?

  Problem with having a darn swollen brain is that I’m not sure who I am, who I was, or what I’ve the potential to become. Whether I could ever be worthy of being a husband for her.

  So when the car disappears out of the gate, I catch her eye, jerk my chin, then my crutches clatter across the pavement as I make my way back inside. Alone.

  The doctors had told me rest was my friend, and even I have to admit I’m tired after the outing today. An evening doze turned into an early night. When I wake, it’s morning again. I shower, dress, then descend to the clubroom and take up my normal seat on the couch where I’ve taken to spending most of my days.

  I hate being an invalid lying in bed. I’ve got into a routine of getting up, then coming down and taking up residence here. That way I’m involved in what’s going on. That first day I admit it was so I could check nothing nefarious was going on, which would make me insist on leaving with my wife and son. But now it’s habit, and I’ve grown to enjoy the steady stream of interruptions and visits from the women and men.

  Fuck. There’s a pain, a throbbing in my hopefully starting to heal brain. I lean back my head, digging my fingertips into my temples, trying to massage the ache away.

  “You okay, Liz?”

  I glance up at the man who’s standing close. “Yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the pain that’s always hovering there.”

  “Can I get you something? Glass of water? Beer?”

  “Nah, Mace. I’m okay.” I close my eyes again, but don’t sense him moving away. I’ve had enough of soft drinks and am loath to touch beer in case the alcohol makes my head worse. A question floats into my head, and I let it out of my mouth. “Why do you call Ink ‘Leatherneck’, but not me?”

  There’s a pause before he replies. “Apart from mentioning your first tour a couple of times, you never spoke about your other tours or the time you served. It seemed more something you wanted to forget, rather than be reminded of.”

  Or, as it turns out, I didn’t need any help not to remember. I’m becoming more comfortable, the pain’s easing away, but I don’t want to open my eyes in case it returns.

  “How many tours did you do, Brother?” Mace asks in a casual tone. I appreciate him sitting down and staying talking to me.

  I think back. “Three where I came back whole. The fourth? Don’t recall how I got home.”

  I hear him draw in a breath. “What else do you remember, Liz?”

  Lightbulbs are flashing in my head, things closer than they’ve been before, but nothing I can grab hold of. Images swirl but disappear before they can fully form.

  “It doesn’t matter, Liz,” he says fast, sounding concerned.

  I open my eyes.

  “You sure you’re alright?”

  “Tired, but that’s nothing new.”

  “Okay then.” He stands but leans in and pats my shoulder. “Ink wants to talk to you later.”

  Idly I wonder what about.

  I’m not alone long. Vanna’s my next visitor.

  “How was your day?”

  She flops down on the seat. “Slow, but I managed to get some semblance of order in the files. There were handfuls of scribbled notes in a drawer and I transferred the important stuff onto the computer. Your handwriting’s awful, Liz.”

  I give her a sheepish look. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  She brushes her hand over her face, and I notice she’s tired. My gut clenches when I realise she’s used to working herself to the bone to support her and Cas, and now she’s also taken responsibility for me. Not that I need her help financially, or not yet. I’d had that chat with Buzzard, and he told me I was good while I was still a member.

  But I’ve also discovered that if I can’t ride, I won’t be a Satan’s Devil whether I want to stay one or not. The choice will be taken away from me. Picking up the stress ball that’s always close to me, I squeeze it in my hand. Cas had noticed an improvement, and perhaps there was. But I’m coming along too slow for my liking.

  “Mind if I join you?” Ink sits down taking our permission for granted and places his beer on the table between us. “I know you won’t remember, but Mace came up with the idea of converting one of the old factory buildings into a gym.”

  I’m actually aware of that. Escorted by a prospect in case I tripped, I’d gone outside to take some exercise and explore my surroundings, noticing construction work going on, and had asked what it was. I raise my chin.

  “Mace,” he continues, “having come up with the idea, dropped it like a hot potato and passed it on to me to get it up and running.” He leans in and says conspiratorially, “Fact is, I hate Beth working out in the gym in town, want her close by instead. Anyway, I may have jumped the gun a bit, got some equipment arriving next week.”

  I frown. “I didn’t think it was that far along.”

  “It’s not,” he grins. “So I’m having to make space in the basement.”

/>   “And you’re telling me this, why?”

  “One piece is an elliptical. A cross-trainer. Thought if you started off gentle, it could build strength in your arms and legs.”

  “He’s not ready for that,” puts in Vanna, her brow creased.

  “I might be,” I reply to them both. “I’m seeing the physical therapist in a couple of days, I’ll ask him what he thinks.”

  “Good plan.” Ink nods, taking the beer he hasn’t touched and rising. He pats me on the shoulder. “Need to get you riding again, Brother.”

  Wind in my hair, pavement under my wheels and me seated on my Harley fitted out with Screamin’ Eagle parts. I can’t fucking wait. My eyes crease, and I shake my head, pain hurting me again.

  “Liz?”

  “I’m okay, Vanna.” Or I will be in a little bit. These pains don’t last long now.

  Two days later both the doctor and the therapist clear me for gentle exercise, another scan shows the swelling’s going down at the rate expected. They’re pleased with my progress even if I think it should be going faster. Neither will make promises about how far I’ll get, and that I may have to be prepared to have some form of lasting disability, and can offer no chances of how much, if anything, I’ll ever remember. Well, fuck that. Their view that being alive should be enough is not one I share. My head might be fucked, but I’ll do what I can with my body.

  The headaches are a consequence of the operation I’d had and should go in time, it’s just the brain healing itself.

  My dressing is finally removed, and I realise it’s time to do something about my hair, as I’ve a bald patch on my scalp. It’s a shame, as while I can’t remember growing my hair, I’ve become used to seeing myself with longer locks. Now it’s all got to come off if I’m going to resemble a human being and not a freak.

  Mace keeps his hair military short and has offered to clip mine. When I return from the hospital, I give him the go ahead, and follow him into his room and then to his bathroom.