Devil's Dilemma: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #4

by Manda Mellett

  Red soon starts waving his arm, and we slow down then pull over. I’m scanning left and right, but I see no sign of Skull around. Not that I really expected to. He must have gotten the scare of his life and has gone to ground.

  Red whistles softly, and we gather around him. “Skull ran earlier, he’ll run again if he sees or hears us. That’s why I brought the crash truck along. Place we’re headed to is a couple of roads over,” he says, probably for my benefit. “Any sound of bikes and he’ll be off.”

  “He won’t get away from me next time,” Cuff growls a promise.

  Coming to this address Keys had found was the first thing on my mind. Now I wonder who helped him get away earlier. Something doesn’t add up. Was it a coincidence that vehicles appeared to stop Wills and Cuff, or had Skull been able to summon help fast? If so, from who?

  When Red continues issuing instructions, I shelve those questions for now. Once we get our hands on the man, he’ll give us the answers.

  “Pyro, Twister and I will take the crash truck and check the address out. Everyone else, be ready to roll if we need you.”

  “Red?” I suddenly ask, doubt flooding through me. “What are the chances of him coming back? What if he’s left town?”

  When the Vegas prez’s eyes meet mine, I know he’s fearing the same thing. “If he were a single man, it’s likely. I’m banking that he might not have thought we could run a trace, or not in such a short time. He’s got a woman and kid with him, might have been able to leave his shit behind, but if they’re his, they’ll need stuff for the child. And we all know what women are like.”

  I hope he’s right.

  “Let’s do this.” Red wastes no more time and takes the keys of the crash truck from the prospect’s hand.

  It’s a short drive, and when the address comes into sight, I whistle air out through my teeth. Is this place Skull’s? It seems unlikely.

  “Has to belong to the broad,” I tell Red. “There’s no way Skull could afford to shack up in a place like this. He’s a mechanic for fuck’s sake.”

  “We’ll soon know.”

  But Red’s wrong. There’s no car in the driveway. The garage has been left unlocked, when we open it up, there are only a few of the kid’s outside toys lying around. Whoever owns the house and car hasn’t come home.

  “I want to take a look inside,” I suggest, approaching the front doorway. Maybe once I’m the other side of the door, I can find a clue.

  “Twister?”

  “Right here.” He’s taking something out of his cut. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” As he steps toward the front door and starts to examine it, Red and I stand to shield him from anyone who might be watching the house. It’s unlikely. It’s a long front yard and well sheltered from prying eyes. But it’s a respectable neighbourhood, and they might have someone watching out for their neighbours.

  There’s a click, then the sound of a door being opened. Twister looks up at a device on the wall and holds his breath.

  “Thank fuck. They didn’t arm it.” He’s looking at a state-of-the-art alarm. “Serious shit that.”

  I nod, recognising the system as one top of the line which Cad likes to use when he can, and once again think Skull’s broad must have money.

  A friend? Sister? What is he to her, or she to him?

  “Pyro,” Red’s stepped past me and is pointing to a photo display along one wall. Pictures of the kid from a newborn baby in the hospital to how she appeared today, about three years old. Three of the pictures show Skull holding the baby.

  I notice two things immediately. One is the unmistakable paternal love and pride shining out of his eyes, and the other? That Skull looks nothing like a biker. Clean cut, wearing a button-down shirt in some, and in another, he’s wearing a suit.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” I slam my fist into a wall.

  “Something that fuckin’ smells,” Red replies, rifling through a desk. “What name did you know him by?”

  “Kris Cox.”

  “There are bills here all addressed to a Donavan Jordan. Presumably that’s who owns this house if he’s paying for the electric. Oh, and there’s a letter here addressed to Clare Jordan.”

  “That sure looks like a father in those pictures,” Twister observes. “Christ, could Skull be this Jordan fella, or is that another fake name?”

  Fuck only knows. I don’t.

  I climb the stairs to the second floor. There’s a kid’s room, toys everywhere. Another room appears to be the master bed. As I open the wardrobe I see clothes I don’t recognise or would never have seen Skull wearing. There’s nothing here. Wrong house? Nah, those photos, they don’t lie. Something connects the people who own this house with Skull. But, what?

  “I want to talk to this man Jordan, whether he’s Skull or not,” Red rasps as he comes into the bedroom. “Something stinks, Pyro.”

  He doesn’t need to tell me.

  He continues, “I’ll leave a prospect watching the house. Soon as anyone comes home, I want to know.”

  His enforcer reappears behind him. “Whoever it is, they expected to return today. There’re the makings to prepare dinner and food obviously for the little one in the fridge.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Pyro

  My lips press together as I think. After a second, I turn to the Vegas prez and his enforcer. “They could be taking a long route home making sure they haven’t got a tail. That could be why we’ve beaten them here. You’ve seen this place, Red. Everything they own is nice shit, expensive too. Not likely to leave that behind. I think they’ll be back, and soon. I’m gonna wait here. Give Skull the fuckin’ surprise of his life when he turns up.” Maybe it will be his last one.

  Red considers for little more than a second. “I agree with you. But a few things for you to consider. One, Skull might have nothing to do with this Donavan Jordan—”

  I interrupt. “Those pictures, Red, they tell a fuckin’ story. Why have family photos if you’re not a part of that family?”

  “Could be his sister and nephew. He could have been driving her car.”

  I shake my head. “Nah.” I wave my hand around. “No other fuckin’ pictures on display. Only ones have got Skull in them.”

  Red’s own lips thin now. “Okay, say it is Skull. Chances are they might not intend to leave permanently, but that doesn’t mean he might not have taken off for a few days. You might have a long wait. I’ll get Keys looking into this Donavan and Clare Jordan’s details, see if there’re any parents or other relatives around and where they might hole up. The other thought you need to have, is that he might not be returning alone. I’m unhappy about the two cars that intercepted Cuff and Wills. He might simply be waiting to gather the troops, whoever they are, and return prepared to find us waiting. Best you don’t stay alone.” He regards me for a moment. “Don’t know if your woman would survive if she lost you as well.”

  Christ. What a thing to think about. Could Mel cope with another loss? I don’t want to know the answer, but I’m not going to risk it.

  “I’ll take Judge,” I tell him quickly, having come to respect the man who’s been patched in for less than a year. “Sparky too.” Not Wills, not because he’s not up to the job, he is, but Mel will need at least one face from home around. It’s possible Skull won’t return for hours, if he’s coming back at all. I’m prepared to stay all night, maybe reconsider tomorrow if there’s still no sign. Maybe, by then, Keys will have come up with some other leads.

  “I’ll stay,” Twister offers, cracking his hands together. “I don’t mind getting my hands on this traitor.”

  “Agreed,” Red concurs again.

  “Tell Mel I’m following a lead,” I ask him, knowing she’ll be expecting me back.

  Red grimaces slightly, but she’s an old lady, she won’t argue with him. We both know all he’ll need to say is club business even though, in this case, it’s also very much hers. “I’ll try to keep her from worrying too much,” he responds at las
t.

  We organise getting the bikes of those of us staying onto the crash truck to be taken back to the compound, then we return to the house. Now there are no bikes or truck in the vicinity to give Skull advanced warning, even if he spends time driving around.

  A short while after Red leaves, Judge comes in.

  “What’s the plan, Ro?”

  Noticing Twister’s also looking at me, I decide fast. “I want to take them by surprise. Sparky and I will hide down here, you and Twister upstairs. I want them inside, door closed, and with their escape routes cut off.”

  There’s a coat closet by the front door which looks just about large enough for me to hide in. With the warmth of the day, they shouldn’t have any coats to hang up.

  Sparky sees me eyeing it and jerks his head backward. “Soon as we hear movement outside, I’ll hide behind the kitchen door.”

  “Be useful to listen too, rather than taking them on straight away,” Twister puts in. “Once they think they’re safe, they might relax and give something away. Perhaps about who ran interference for them.”

  I raise and dip my chin. I’ve been thinking about that too.

  “It was deliberate, not an accident. Not fuckers thinking they’d pitch their cars against bikes.” Judge frowns. “I’ve been talking to Wills. They had blacked-out windows at the rear. He said he and Cuff were having enough difficulty swerving and keeping shiny side up to notice much about them.”

  “Licence plates?” asks the enforcer.

  But Judge shakes his head. “I don’t know if Cuff caught sight of them, but Wills didn’t.”

  Unbeknownst to Skull, we’re here and waiting at what we presume is his house, or at least, that of the woman who accompanied him today, and who he looks overly friendly with in those photos that keep catching my eye. Who helped him is a mystery he can solve when he returns, or we track down where he’s gone.

  An hour passes. Two. Darkness descends. Then, at last, when I’ve about given up for the night, the sound of a car arriving outside reaches my ears. Twister and Judge disappear up the stairs, Sparky into the kitchen, and I ease myself into the coat closet to be out of sight. I crack the door so I can see out, eager to catch sight of my nemesis again.

  The door opens. A woman steps inside, then puts her hand up to disarm the alarm and frowns, obviously remembering she hadn’t set it. It’s the woman who’d been with Skull, the woman in the photographs. But she’s alone, without even her child. Fuck. Don’t like the idea of questioning a broad, but if I have to, that’s what I’ll do.

  Her eyes flick one way then another. She suspects. But then, she starts lifting the cushions on the couch, and I realise she’s hunting for something.

  Her phone rings. She answers, conveniently puts it on speaker, and places it down, then goes on her knees to keep looking for whatever she’s come for.

  “Clare.” Skull’s voice comes over clearly even though distant and tinny. He sounds angry. “Come back. It’s not safe.”

  “I’m at the house now. There’s no one here, no bikes around, I drove up and down and checked. It’s safe.”

  “Clare…”

  “Don, it won’t take long to find it. Katy will never sleep unless she has Pooh bear. You know what she’s like.”

  “She’ll have to get used to it,” the man she referred to as Don, snarls. “I’ll buy her a new one.”

  “She won’t want that. She’s been crying all evening, she’ll make herself ill, Don. It’s here somewhere.”

  “Fucking three-dollar toy…”

  “That’s she’s carried around since she could walk. That’s all I want, Don.” She stands up and frowns, then walks into the kitchen. Christ, I hope Sparky’s hidden himself. Making her voice louder, she calls out, “Can you remember where she put it?”

  “I don’t know where she put it.” Don sounds like he’s in despair. It’s Skull, I’m sure of it, but the timbre of his voice has changed. The man I knew would have thrown a few f-bombs in, but even in his worried state, damn seems the worst he can use. “Clare. These men are dangerous. If they find out who I am.”

  “Well it’s good I came back. We hadn’t set the alarm.”

  “Find the damn bear, set it and get out. Clare, please. I’m worried about you.”

  So he should be. I grin to myself.

  “I’m going upstairs. It must be in her room.”

  Leaving the phone where it is, she heads for the stairs. Easing myself out, using the stealth skills I learned in the Army, I move without making a sound and place myself behind her, pressing the red key to end the call as I pass by the table where she left it.

  Halfway up she pauses and gasps. Then turning, starts running back down, straight into my arms which go around her like a brace.

  “Don,” she screams. Then again when there’s no answer from the phone, “Don!” The device starts ringing again, but I have no intention of answering it.

  Twister’s eyes meet mine. “Restrain her,” I instruct.

  As I expected, he’s got zip ties in one of his pockets. She struggles and screams. While we know there are no close neighbours, Judge runs back upstairs, and returns fast with a scarf which he uses to gag her.

  I place a call of my own, quickly arranging for Red to send a truck for us.

  Sparky approaches. “How the fuck didn’t she see you?” I hiss.

  “Fuckin’ civilians,” he grins. “I was standing right behind the door.”

  Unable to communicate with her voice, Clare uses her eyes to plead and beg, but I have no mercy.

  “Skull your man?” I ask, knowing I have to, for now, confine myself to questions which can be answered either yes or no.

  Her head shakes in confusion.

  I look around, find what I’m seeking, then take it back to her. I tap the man in the picture holding the baby. “This is the man you call Don?”

  She nods, her eyes wide and scared. I have no mercy.

  “This your baby?” I tap the photo again.

  Another nod. Her throat works as she swallows.

  “His?”

  I clench my jaw waiting for her response. If she says yes, it will confirm what I’m already thinking. He was in a relationship with another woman all the time he was cosying up to Mel.

  A third nod.

  “You married?” asks Twister, almost casually.

  Slowly, her head dips and then rises.

  If Skull hadn’t already signed his death warrant, he certainly has now.

  Outside I hear an engine. Judge opens the door and confirms, “It’s Crash.”

  A minute later, the Vegas VP appears in the doorway. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I’m wasting no time. Skull will be going frantic by now. I’ve ignored it, but that phone has kept ringing. I leave it where it is and follow Twister leading Clare out of the house.

  Twister puts her in the middle of the back seat, then sits beside her. Her tied hands twist together in her lap, and as I get in the other door, sandwiching her between us, I can feel her body trembling. Sparky squeezes in beside me.

  Judge sits up front with Crash.

  None of us speak on the drive back to the compound. That’s done on purpose, not knowing what’s happening, not witnessing friendly repartee, not even knowing where they are going, those are all things which can soften a captive up and help get them in the mindset for talking.

  Red is waiting for us. He cocks his eyebrow at me. When I mouth ‘basement’, both rise.

  I push her down on a chair—gently, I’m thinking she’s innocent except for the information she holds—then I remove the makeshift gag from her mouth.

  “Where am I?” she asks, her eyes flitting wildly from left to right. “Who are you?” Her panic seems to increase the more she takes in of her surroundings, and I’m not surprised.

  I haven’t been down here much before, and it’s changed since the last time I was here. New equipment for a start which I suspect might have something to do with Rope and Cuff. The span
king bench probably comes in handier for them, than as a torture device, though the women they bring back might see it differently. There’s a St Andrews cross, and a wall where whips and crops are hanging.

  A variety of restraints, some quite interesting are also on display.

  Then, on the other side, there are pincers, hammers, knives and saws. Hmm. Dual purpose for certain. The soundproofing I know has been installed probably works for both.

  Red catches my eye and winks.

  Clare, though, her eyes go impossibly wide as she views everything around her.

  “What the hell is this place?” she cries out. “It looks like a torture chamber.”

  Red glances around as if he hadn’t seen it before, then chuckles. “It does, doesn’t it, doll?”

  My face stays straight. I nod at Twister who’s followed us down.

  Red steps in front of her. “It’s Clare, isn’t it?” When she nods, he points to Twister. “You know what an enforcer is, Clare?”

  She swallows rapidly and shakes her head.

  “Well, he’s the man who gets information by whatever means. I happen to know Twister is very good at his job, no one leaves here alive without telling him what he wants to know. You know how he got his handle?”

  Another shake.

  “I’ll give you a clue. People who don’t talk, quickly find out how twisted he is.”

  “I don’t know what you want to know,” she cries out. “I don’t know who you are or why I’m here. I’m a part-time librarian, a housewife, and a mother. I don’t know anything.”

  “To be honest Clare, you look like a nice lady,” Red tells her. “And we have no beef with you. But we’d like to have a talk with your husband. Now, you can start by giving us his phone number.”

  Her head moves side to side. She sounded scared for herself previously, now she’s gone white, and when she speaks, her voice has gone hoarse. “If I tell you, you'll trick him to come here. You’ll hurt him.”

  I motion to Red, he nods. “Clare,” I start, “we want to talk to Skull, Don or whatever his name is. We want to ask him some questions, that’s all. Have we hurt you?”