Colt: Demons of Destruction

by Jacqueline M. Sinclair

  Not only did she have that psycho biker stalking her, she’d be jobless, as soon as Shaun figured out what hit him. A nervous giggle escaped her. It’d felt good to sock him one time. He was always a prick, but he had locked her out of the building. Unbelievable.

  Pulling the car in reverse, Maci backed out of her parking space, trying to calm her racing heart. She’d thought she’d put all this behind her, that the worst was over. But she was in trouble. Deep trouble. She’d been in uniform the night he’d attacked her. How perceptive of him to notice. But did he know more? Like where she lived? Had he hung around that long?

  She’d been paranoid for weeks, afterward. She still was, but at least it wasn’t the mind-numbing, paralyzing paranoia like she had the first few days, but she couldn’t hide forever. Sheer necessity had driven her back to her life.

  Eating was a luxury at times, and the part-time job at the diner kept food costs down, but without the tips and income, she wouldn’t be able to afford the tiny, cheap trailer she rented. Or pay next semesters tuition. And that meant she’d never get her life back, forget that night, and how close she’d came to…whatever he’d had in mind.

  During the twenty-minute drive home, Maci considered her options. It had been so long ago she couldn’t decide whether it was worth it to run. Where would she go? Was the man toying with her? What if he wanted to finish what he started? And exactly what had he planned for her?

  Wouldn’t the man realize that if she hadn’t already gone to the police, she wouldn’t do it now? Besides, any evidence she had was turned to ashes a long time ago. Who would believe her? And would it create more trouble than it would solve?

  And why the hell did he wait so long to come after her, giving her the illusion she was safe? She couldn’t wrap her brain around it, but instinct told her she needed to move her ass, if the cops weren’t an option. And she didn’t see that they were. Dozens of questions, and not a single answer came to her.

  Scanning the yard as she pulled up to the old mobile home, Maci didn’t notice anything out of place, but made a quick decision to pack a bag and get out. She had to figure some things out, before she made any decisions. She wasn’t impulsive, but everything inside her warned of the dangers to come, should she decide to stay.

  Climbing out, she locked the car doors and ran up the creaky wooden steps, her key ready for the lock as soon as she reached the top. She let herself in and went straight to the bedroom, snatching her duffle bag from the closet. She went for the necessities. Underwear. Bras. A couple pair of jeans and some shirts.

  With her clothes packed, she gathered some toiletries out of the bathroom, and added them to the bag.

  The act of moving, doing something, helped to calm her nerves, some. She took the time to change into a tank top and a pair of jeans, and slid into her cowboy boots so she’d be ready to go, if she needed to.

  Looking around at the tiny space, the paneled walls and roll out windows, she almost felt sad. It had been the first place she’d had to herself, and she’d done it on her own. The few items she’d brought from her mom's would have to stay. She didn’t see going back to school anytime soon. What if he knew she was a student? Her degree would have to wait.

  Collecting her bag, Maci gave a lingering glance to the textbooks piled by her bed. She didn’t need them, but she needed a way to take some notes. She took a few notebooks and a box of colored pens, and abandoned the rest. She could come back. Some day. But right now she needed to get to the library while it was still open.

  The last thing she grabbed was the roll of cash from the freezer. It was all she had left of the insurance money from her mom. It was a couple thousand dollars, but she hadn’t put it in the bank so she could get assistance with school. It may have been cheating the system, but it wasn’t like she was living the high life. Some weeks, working at the diner didn’t even cover the few bills she had, and her mother’s old Cavalier still got her around, so she’d kept that.

  She did what she had to do, just like now. With a plan in mind, she headed to the library. The drive seemed to take forever, delayed even more because she was caught in afternoon traffic. Still, she made it to the library with a few hours to research before they closed. She put her name on the list and waited impatiently for a computer to come free. There was a one-hour time limit if people were waiting, and it still took an hour and a half to get in front of one. By then, she’d had time to make detailed notes on exactly what she needed to know.

  She’d purposely avoided any variation of the news, for a long time, after she’d been attacked. She didn’t want to face it, couldn’t face it, if she was going to pretend it never happened. She couldn’t avoid it any longer, though. Running blindly wasn’t going to help, she needed answers if she was going to find a solution to all this.

  It only took a few minutes to find it. The story had gone national, thanks to the murdered man being the father of an up and coming football player. Article after article suggested Colt Johnson was headed for great things before the murder derailed his potential NFL career.

  There was also mention of his father’s affiliation with a local motorcycle club, and some speculation that his son was prospecting, whatever that meant.

  The most recent article, found on a tabloid website, had a blurry picture of a giant man, standing by a motorcycle, with a bunch of other bikers in the background. It confirmed that Colt Johnson had joined the Demons of Destruction, and was now a full-fledged member, but how trustworthy was the source?

  Maci zoomed in on the picture. He was wearing a leather vest, just like her attacker had been. Just like his father had been, but something was different. Demons of Destruction had been mentioned, time and again, but the huge patch on the back of his vest wasn’t the same one the guy at the diner had been wearing.

  A different club? But if the Demons knew another club had killed one of their members, why hadn’t they retaliated? Isn’t that what they did?

  Maci considered it. Maybe they didn’t know who’d murdered him. If that was true, maybe she could use that as leverage to barter some protection. Or they’ll think I’m involved and kill me.

  The thought was sobering. If she passed the information along to the Demons, and they sought revenge, it’s likely there’d be another murder. Could she live with that?

  She was still mulling it over when the librarian came by and patted her on the shoulder. “Ten minutes.”

  Maci pulled herself out of the macabre thoughts. She needed to find out the name of the other club. She typed in what she could remember from the guy at the diner. Something with Rebels and a devil’s head sitting on handlebars, where the headlight would be.

  With a few minutes to spare, she had her answers, and a clear plan. Was it smart? Probably not, but she didn’t see any other choice.

  “Hey, Colt.”

  He looked up just in time to see the can go airborne, swirling through the air like a warped tire. He shook his head, but caught the beer in one hand. “We’ll work on that,” he yelled back to Maze.

  He barely got the words out before he felt confident hands wrap around his waist. He didn’t have to look to know it was Jess. She was the only one comfortable, or crazy enough, to do something like that.

  Unwrapping himself from her full-body hug, he turned around, stepping away. “Why don’t you have a drink, cool off.” He passed her the beer. “If I want you, I’ll come find you,” he smirked.

  He didn’t wait for a response, but he was still close enough to hear her crack open the can, and her string of cuss words as it spewed all over her. He grinned to himself as he made his way to the door. It was Labor Day weekend and the celebration had started early. Those still hanging out had paired off, and the distinct sights and sounds of couples in various stages of sex permeated the common room. Any other night he’d have been happy to take Jess up on her eagerness, but tonight, things were weighing on his mind.

  He leaned against the railing of the steps and drew in a long breath. Man, it fe
lt good to be a Demon. He’d been close to his team members, but nothing like the bond he shared with these guys. His brothers. It felt good. Right. He reached for the healing tattoo on his right pec.

  “Your old man would be proud. You’re not regretting it, are you?”

  He smiled at Tex’s words. “What’s a few million dollars for your brothers?”

  Tex huffed. “Nothing to me,” he said, shaking his head, laughing. “How’s your mom doing?”

  Colt’s face turned sour. “She has some good days but she’s struggling, man.”

  Tex grunted and Colt turned to him, studying the man under the full moon. “You should go see her sometime.”

  His surprise was clear and Colt couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not saying bend my ma over the kitchen table, but she could use a friend.”

  Colt waited. He could see the man was torn. He was interested, but he knew Tex was still loyal to a friend long gone.

  “Ain’t the old ladies keeping her company?”

  Colt nodded. “They’re in and out, but Mom isn’t going to get up and dressed for them.”

  Tex’s expression was pained, and Colt realized just how much the man cared about his mother, whether he admitted it or not. “Well, you think about it. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.” Colt held out his hand and Tex grasped it, giving it a firm pump. “And I’m good with it.”

  The older man frowned, alerting Colt there was something else on his mind. Their eyes locked. “Spit it out.”

  “You ready for what’s coming?” Tex asked.

  Colt had thought about little else. Was his anger as overwhelming as it’d been the day of the funeral? No. Was it still there? Hell yes, it was. “Oh, I’m ready.”

  Tex scanned his face, and for a minute, Colt thought his slow nod would be his only response. “You’ve done good. Our day will come and we’ll find out who did it.”

  Giving a last nod, Tex walked away. Colt’s gaze followed him as he straddled his bike and disappeared down the road.

  Colt turned his face up to the night sky, taking in the stars, thinking about Tex’s question. He wasn’t the same man he’d been at the funeral. His own anger, fueled by the anger of those surrounding him, had turned him into a man he didn’t recognize. He’d spent many nights imagining the time when he’d put an end to this, when he'd get closure for himself, and his mother, for his brothers.

  But the truth was they were no closer to finding out who did this than they’d been a year ago, and that was frustrating as hell, but Tex was right. They’d get their day. The Demons wouldn’t stop until they did.

  Taking a last look around, Colt was just about to step back inside when headlights swept the clubhouse property. He looked down the driveway, curious. It had to be getting on to three o’clock in the morning. The gate was open, but who the hell would be stupid enough to roll up on a club event uninvited?

  Stepping toward the car, Colt was even more surprised when the driver stepped out. The tall blonde was nervous, but once she caught sight of Colt, she squared herself and walked right up to him, sticking out her hand as she approached. “I’m Maci Newman.”

  Colt crossed his arms over his chest, wondering just who this chick was. He loomed over her, his height giving him a perfect view of her cleavage. And that’s where his attention lingered as he asked her, “Are you lost?”

  The girl pulled her offered hand back and clutched it to her chest with the other, shielding his scenery. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m in the right place. I need to speak with your leader.”

  Colt bit back a laugh. She may not be lost, but she was sure as hell out of her element. “My leader?”

  Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, and those bright blue eyes clouded with tears, but she didn’t cower from him. “Please,” she whimpered. “I’ve been driving for hours. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back.” Her voice cracked and faded, and his curiosity was peaked, but there was no way in hell he was disturbing Hank without a reason. “Why?”

  She blew out a breath, but sounded a little stronger when she spoke again. “It’s a long story. Are you going to let me see him?”

  Something was up with this girl. He knew full grown men that wouldn’t have the balls to ride up to the Demons’ clubhouse uninvited. Still, he wasn’t taking her in there without some explanation.

  “About what?”

  Her chin quivered as she opened her mouth. “It’s about the Rebels.”

  Disbelief flew through Colt. Rebels with the Devil were barely a blip on the Demons radar. What the hell did this little woman have to do with them? “That’s not a reason.”

  She reminded him of a fish out of water, her mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out. Colt turned, ready to walk away. She leapt at him, squeaking out a tight, “Please.”

  What the fuck was wrong with this girl? She was terrified, he could see that, and his curiosity about the Rebels perked up a notch. Taking her by the elbow, Colt led her to the side of the building, ignoring the couple going at it in the shadows at the other end of the structure. “Wait here. Don’t move.”

  Her eyes went to the couple before dropping to the ground. He doubted she’d wonder off, but just in case, he added, “Leave this spot and I’ll leave you to whoever finds you.”

  The sharp intake of breath told Colt he’d made his point. He let her go and walked back to the front of the building, and inside, making a path through the crowd. Prez had disappeared to his office earlier, and Colt headed straight for the back, knocked lightly, and waited.

  “Come in.”

  Colt opened the door and stepped in, noticing right away the outlaw country Prez had drowning out the music from the clubhouse. He loved Merle, Hank, and Kris Kristofferson. It’s how he’d earned his nickname. “Hate to interrupt. I got a problem.”

  “Can’t imagine any problems a brand new patch would bring you. Shit, ain’t enough of you to go around?”

  An image of the woman waiting outside flashed in his mind. “Not tonight.” He gave Hank a quick run-down of what happened. “I didn’t want to stir up questions by bringing her in through the front.”

  “Good thinking.” Standing, Hank leaned over and cut the radio off. “You don’t know this chick?”

  “Never seen her before.”

  Hank shook his head. “She’s stupid as fuck or scared shitless.”

  Colt nodded. “My money’s on scared shitless. Why else would she show up, unknown and uninvited, at a club party?”

  “Let’s see what she has to say.”

  Hank sat back down, waving his hand at the private entrance, motioning for Colt to let her in. If she’d listened, the girl would be right beside it. He opened the door and stepped out. She cleared the ground she jumped so high. This girl was scared to death. “Come on.”

  She was already moving, rushing past Colt, but not before giving a last glance at the couple still busy at the corner. He closed the door, trying to hide his smile.

  “Hank, this is Maci Newman. She says she has some information for you about the Rebels.”

  Prez didn’t bother standing. He motioned for the girl to sit, and nodded to Colt. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to hear what she had to say, but he knew better than to argue with Hank. “I’ll wait outside.”

  “You all right?”

  The man’s voice interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the room and the man sitting in front of her. Maci pushed all thoughts of the handsome stranger to the back of her mind. “Not really. I need your help.”

  He just sat there, stone faced, a beer in one hand, and tapping his desk with the other. “Can I have one of those?”

  The man grunted, but got up and went to a dorm refrigerator, pulled a can from inside, and handed it to her. “Let’s get down to business,” he said, taking a seat on the corner of his desk. “As you can see, it’s not the best time to just show up here.”

  Maci blinked, taking a long swallow of the cold beer, hoping it would calm her n
erves. What if he called bullshit on what she had to say, and threw her out on her ass? She could feel her body trembling and tried to act more confident than she felt. What if her voice betrayed her? What else was there for her to do?

  She turned the beer up, and put on her best poker face. Fuck it. She had to start talking. Now. “Have you figured out what happened at the store?”

  The president of the Demons of Destruction raised his eyebrow, questioning her. Damn. He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. “To the man in the bathroom?” she clarified.

  He stared, not giving an inch. Nothing.

  “I can tell you who did it.”

  His expression never changed. Maci was starting to feel desperate.

  “What makes you think we don’t know?”

  She glanced around the room, trying to figure out how to make some leeway with him. She’d based her entire plan on thinking they’d want some sort of revenge. The man was still stalking her at work. Very much alive, so either they didn’t know, or something else was going on. “Then why haven’t you done something?”

  “What makes you think something hasn’t been done?”

  “Are you kidding me? He’s still out there.” The words shot from her mouth so fast she didn’t think them through, but they got a reaction from the man sitting in front of her. He sat a little straighter, his eyebrows furrowing over penetrating eyes.

  “Maybe you need to tell me about what you know.” His steady words reeked of curiosity. Maybe even a hint of warning, and Maci sank into her chair.

  She’d known there was no way she was going to just show up, and make a case for herself, without some sort of explanation. She tried to find the words to begin, but she felt the familiar grasp of anxiety take hold. God, the last thing she needed was to start puking in front of this man.

  She took a few breaths, focusing everywhere but on him. What if he blamed her? She huffed. If he did, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her walk out of here.