Colt: Demons of Destruction

by Jacqueline M. Sinclair

  “I was there.”

  Hank stood, walked around his desk, back to his chair. “No shit?” His disbelief was clear, and Maci felt her desperation rising. “Colt said you had some information for me?” he said pointedly. He was getting impatient.

  Maci was startled. “That was him?”

  The man sat back, crossing his arms and shaking his head. Maci didn’t think his face could be sterner, but the hint of red rising in his cheeks gave her the distinct impression she was wearing out her welcome. Fast. “What, exactly, are you here for?”

  Great. Now he thinks I’m a groupie for the football player. “The Rebels were there, too.” She blurted out the words without much thought, desperation motivating her. “At least, one of them was,” she clarified.

  His eyebrows shot up. She had his attention now, but there was still a hint of disbelief in his tone. “How do I know that?”

  Maci thought back, trying to push the blood and smell of death from her mind. She’d done the same thing that night, which is probably the only reason she even noticed the small detail. “There was a small patch here,” she held her hand over her chest. “It was missing. Ripped off.” A black hole in a bloody mess.

  The president leaned forward, lacing his hands on his desk. “And you know the man who did it?”

  Maci opened her mouth to answer, but a strained croak was all she could manage. She took another swig of beer and started over. “No, I don’t know who he is, but I know what he looks like. He was wearing a vest like the man in the bathroom.”

  “A cut like ours? Or like ours but different.”

  “A cut? The vest?”

  Hank nodded. “Maybe you need to start at the beginning.”

  Maci nodded, taking a long drink for courage. “My boss asked me to stay and work a double, so it was late when I got off. The store was closed.” She looked to him. “It’s just an old country store. The bathrooms are on the outside at the back of the building.”

  “I’m familiar with the store. What happened? Why were you there?”

  Maci blinked back the tears. “My pipes had busted. I didn’t have water at home, and it was the last stop before my trailer. It was the only reason I’d stayed the extra shift, to keep from being there all evening.”

  “And?”

  “I met him coming out of the men’s bathroom. They’re side-by-side, but it happened so quickly, and timed so perfectly, before I knew it, he had me. It was almost like he’d planned it, but he couldn’t have known I’d be there.”

  Her voice trailed off and Hank spoke up. “Are you telling me Pops grabbed you?”

  Maci shook her head. “The man that died? No. He wasn’t there, yet. It was the other man, the Rebel. I managed to get an arm free, but when I tried to run away, he slung me around. I stumbled and his grip slipped. I got up and just started running. He caught up with me in the woods.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him again, nor could she stop the tears that ran down her face. It was the first time she’d told this story, and it almost felt like a purging. The anxiety normally left her incapacitated, but right then, it was her motivation.

  “He seemed pretty drunk, but it didn’t slow him down. He hit me a couple times and ripped my uniform. Just before he could…”

  Maci couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She didn’t want to think about how close she’d came to being raped that night. “We heard a motorcycle.”

  “Pops?”

  Maci shrugged. “Is that’s his name?”

  The president nodded.

  “He saved me. The guy was distracted by the noise. I bit down on the hand covering my mouth. When he let go, I put my knee in his nuts, and ran like hell back to the store. I was barely able to stay ahead of him so I busted through the first door I came to.

  “It was the men’s room. Pops got one look at me and pushed me behind him. By then the man was on us. It all happened so fast. There was nothing else he could do.”

  Words had been rushing out of her, but they slowed as the memory took hold. A lump of regret rose in her throat. “There was nothing I could do,” she said softly, swiping away a single tear.

  Taking a deep breath to regroup, Maci said, “I remember him jerking forward, but then he fell back into me. I must have hit my head because the next thing I remember is waking up with him on top of me.”

  Hank seemed to be processing her words. He sat there, quietly, his hands still locked in front of him, one finger tapping his fist. “And you haven’t been to the police?”

  Maci shook her head. “I was scared to. I figured they’d only make it worse. I didn’t realize at the time Pops and that man were in two different clubs. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid. He’s been coming to where I work. Twice now he’s showed up.”

  “It could just be a coincidence.”

  Maci shook her head. “No. He specifically asked to be in my section. I’m terrified and I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  For the first time, Hank seemed to soften. “And this just started?”

  She nodded. “In the last week or so. I don’t know why.”

  “And you’re sure it was a Rebel?”

  “I did some research on what I remembered, and I’m sure.”

  “And you don’t know him by name, but you could point him out in a picture?”

  “Yes.”

  “You sure of that? Cause your life may depend on it.”

  His words brought reality to what she’d already been thinking, the reason she was there. “I’m sure.”

  Colt couldn’t hear a damn thing through Hank’s door and finally gave up. He waited, his foot propped on the wall opposite Hank’s office, his fingers running over his scruff. He’d been waiting a good thirty minutes when the door was flung open. “Get Rooster and Sam. The three of you get in here, now.”

  Colt threw a look at the woman sitting in front of Hank’s desk. Her back was to him, but he could see her shoulders shaking. What the fuck is up?

  Knowing he’d find Rooster at the bar, he went there first. “Hank wants you in his office.” The middle-aged man turned to him, taking a minute to focus. “Yesterday,” Colt stressed.

  Without a word, Rooster abandoned his beer on the bar and took off. Colt scanned the thinning crowed for Sam, but didn’t see him. Playing a hunch, he headed down the opposite hallway towards his room. He knocked, but pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.

  Colt wasn’t surprised to find Sam with Jess straddling him, her heavy tits bouncing up and down as she rode him. She didn’t miss a beat with his interruption. The consummate professional. “Hank wants you. His office. Now.”

  Jess was launched in the air mid-stroke. Sam hadn’t even bothered to get undressed. He pulled off the condom, tossed it in the trash, and yanked up his jeans. He pushed Jess out the door with what she’d managed to find of her beer soaked clothes, and pulled it closed behind us. “What’s up?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Must be something if he's calling us in this time of morning.”

  Colt ignored him, his mind already back on the girl in Hank’s office. She’d only mentioned the Rebels with the Devil, but deep down, he knew it had something to do with his father.

  Back in Prez’s office, the three of them perched on various pieces of furniture, giving the girl a wide berth. None of them spoke until Hank did. He nodded to Rooster. “You take Sam and the two of you get me a picture of every motherfucker wearing Rebel colors you can find. A face shot for identification.”

  He looked to Colt, and then back to Rooster, when they didn’t move. “They’re not going to send you a fucking invitation. Get in under the radar and get out with your asses. Track ‘em down and get the shots.”

  Colt watched Rooster and Sam make a quick exit. Hank didn’t say anything else until the door was shut again.

  “Give Austin the keys to the wrecker. I need you to take Maci up to the cabin and keep her there until I tell you to come back.” Prez opened
his desk and pulled a phone from the drawer. He tossed the burner phone to Colt.

  “You going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Hank sat on the corner of his desk. “When I know more. There are some things I need to confirm.” He gave Maci a pointed look. He wasn’t taking whatever she’d told him to heart without some proof. “Don’t discuss it. And she doesn’t leave your sight,” he said, turning back to Colt.

  “I don’t make this public until I make sure there’s not a single hole in this motherfucker. Every prospect, every whore, every hanger on that’s ever showed up here is gone through. I need time for that.”

  Colt looked to Maci, who seemed just as shocked as he was. “Won’t I be more help here?” he argued.

  Hank threw up his hand. “I’ll let you know what’s going on when I’ve filled in the gaps.”

  Colt balked. “What about her?”

  “She doesn’t say a word. Any information you get comes from me, understand?”

  “The only thing I know for sure right now is you are not involved.” Hank planted his hands on his desk and turned his full attention to Colt. “Your ass belongs to the Demons, so if you think you’re going to go off half-cocked, it’s not happening. She gives you any problems, bring her back to me.”

  What the fuck was going on? Why did he get stuck babysitting this bitch? He turned his scrutiny to her. Did she know something about his father? Were the Rebel’s involved?

  “You got me, Colt?”

  He knew anything he did without the Demons’ approval would have a price. He wouldn’t anyway. He’d been motivated to join the Demons because a debt was owed, and they’d collect as a family. He gave a quick nod. “I got you.”

  He stuffed the phone in his pocket and walked to the door. He wasn’t happy about it, but if things were finally moving forward, he’d deal with it for a few days. If this woman knew anything about what happened to his father, he’d put a bullet in anyone who tried to hurt her. “Come on.”

  She looked to him, her face a shade or two paler than it had been before Hank’s instructions.

  “And Newman,” Prez said, stopping her. “If you want to stay under the protection of this club, you listen to him, without thought. One minute of trouble and I’ll toss you out these gates so fast, you’ll still be confused when the Rebels cut your throat.”

  Colt would swear the girl turned green, but he was too busy trying to make his way to Austin’s room to dwell on it. Hank had just put the fear of God in her, and he knew he wouldn’t likely get any answers from her.

  He knocked on the closed door and waited until he heard a gruff, “Come in.” He turned the knob and pushed the door open to find Austin cuddled up with a club whore whose name Colt couldn’t remember. He tossed Austin the keys. “Hank says the wrecker is yours.”

  He turned, ignoring the man’s grumblings, and headed toward the room he’d claimed for the night. Maci was having a hard time keeping up and he’d already started throwing the clothes back in his bag when Maci reached the door.

  Without a word, he finished packing and pushed past her. As they reached the main part of the clubhouse, Colt realized his mistake. He should have taken her out through Hank’s office. The music had been turned down, and most everyone who wasn’t passed out, was busy drinking or getting laid. Or both.

  He felt, more than knew, he’d lost Maci. He stopped, looked behind him, and saw she was too distracted by the various shows going on to make any real progress. She was looking everywhere but at him. The chick might have been scared to death twenty minutes ago, but she was certainly distracted now.

  Colt smirked, waiting until he caught her eye, amused at the blush that darkened her cheeks. “Seen enough?”

  She looked to Todd, who was enjoying a loud blowjob. He was leaning against the wall, chugging a beer with one hand, while shoving her head down his dick with the other.

  Maci nodded, but didn’t pick up her pace. “I can have a beer while you browse,” Colt said, his face dead serious.

  “No, I’m good.”

  He made a point of dropping his eyes to her tits, mostly because he wanted a full view of her nipples that were now poking through her tank top. The fact that her skin pinked up down her cleavage was an added bonus. Christ, it’s going to be a long few days.

  “You have everything you need?” he barked, pushing through the door. “Anything you need to grab?”

  “Just my bag.” She pointed to her car.

  “Get it. I’ll pull over and pick you up. Leave the keys in the floorboard.”

  Colt walked to his bike and took the opportunity to adjust himself as he straddled the seat and started it up. The ride to the cabin would take about two and a half hours, but it was going to feel a hell of a lot longer with her wrapped around him.

  He pulled up to her car, waited while she finished transferring her clothes to her book bag, and watched her toss the keys inside. She climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “You rode before?”

  “No,” she shouted back, shaking her head.

  Colt rolled his eyes. Thankfully, most of it would be interstate travel. “Just relax and don’t work against me.”

  His eyes widened, giving her a quick nod, asking if she understood. When she nodded, and settled in behind him, Colt eased off and hit the road. Little by little, the woman relaxed, her death grip becoming less crushing with each passing mile, until her hold was so light, he could barely feel it. Oddly enough, it disappointed him.

  Colt tried to keep his mind from wandering. He did repos for the club at night, so he was far from tired, and he wasn’t much of a drinker, he still lifted weights and tried to take care of himself, so he wasn’t drunk. He was curious.

  What happened to drive her to the Demons’ clubhouse? How was his father involved, and what did it mean for the club? He could deduce that she’d seen at least one of ‘em involved. Why else would Hank send the brothers out for pictures?

  Then there was Prez’s warning when they’d left. Why would he expect Maci to be trouble for him? Did he think she knew more than she’d told him? The thought ramped up his suspicions, causing some mixed emotions about her.

  Did Hank think she was playing one club against the other? Maybe she was in too deep with the Rebels and saw the Demons as her ticket out. Theory after theory played in his head, and none made sense. The speculation had wrenched every muscle in his body tight. He had to stop dwelling on it.

  Thirty minutes from the cabin, Colt pulled over at a 24-hour restaurant and killed the engine. “It’s going to be a few hours before anything opens to get some groceries. We might as well eat now, get some rest, and go later.”

  Maci followed him inside. “I’m going to wash up,” she said, without looking at him.

  Colt followed her towards the bathrooms, was finished and waiting in the small alcove when she came out. “Ready?”

  She looked a little rough from the ride, but managed a small smile before heading into the seating area. They chose a booth where he could keep an eye on the bike. He ordered eggs and toast, with coffee for himself, and Maci asked for the same.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a nap,” she yawned. She smiled, a genuine smile that sparkled in her eyes, and Colt felt something tighten in his chest. “You look fresh. Six a.m. the bewitching hour for bikers?”

  “It is mine. I do repos for the club so this is prime time for me.”

  Maci nodded. “Is that why you weren’t partying tonight?”

  Colt was a little surprised she’d noticed. He didn’t have to work tonight. He just didn’t drink like a fish. He’d worked too hard to get into the physical condition he was in, and even though football was long gone, he was still conceited enough to want to enjoy it a while longer, but he wasn’t going to admit that shit to Maci, so he just grinned. “We all party a little differently.”

  His words quieted her, and she glanced away, and he wondered if she was thinking of the scene they�
��d left at the clubhouse. Dangerous ground. He mentally shook himself. “I just can’t believe you walked into the Demons’ compound without a second thought.”

  Maci shook her head. “Trust me. I thought better of it a hundred times on my way over.”

  Colt found himself staring, appreciating not just her physical beauty, but her grit. “I know grown men that wouldn’t do that.”

  She laughed, shrugging off the compliment. “You know what they say, ‘Desperate people do desperate things.’”

  He understood completely. He was borderline desperate to find out what she had to say about his father, but he was leery of pressing her against Hank’s orders. A part of him was afraid of how he’d react to the information.

  Colt sat back and made room for the waitress to deliver their coffee. “You’re a hard one to figure out.”

  “You try too hard. There’s nothing to figure out.”

  Colt wasn’t convinced.

  “My dad died of cancer when I was little, and my mother had always been sickly. She died about two years ago, so it’s not like I had anyone else to turn to.”

  Maci toyed with a napkin, tearing off tiny pieces, and making a small pile. “The house was already in foreclosure so, I grabbed what I could, and hit the road.”

  “Just like that?” Colt couldn’t imagine the courage it’d taken for her to just walk away.

  “It wasn’t just like that. I’d known it was coming.”

  “And you just walked away from everything?”

  Maci’s face grew long, her bright blue eyes darkened. “There wasn’t anything to walk away from. My mom was practically bedridden. She’d been shut-in for years. Friends disappeared. Bills piled up. What choice did I have?”

  “You could have stayed in the area.”

  The conversation stalled long enough for Maci to add cream and sugar to her coffee, while Colt drank his black. “Why?” Maci finally asked. “So I could ride through town and be reminded of everything? Eventually the bad turns even the good memories to shit and it hurt to remember any of it.”

  Colt tried to relate. Up until his dad was killed, his parents had been strong, supportive. While things hadn’t always been easy, Colt couldn’t remember ever going without.