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Dealing with the Devil

Page 15

by Black, Marina


  Danny had been kept fairly sedated, whether it was Archie’s cold medicine cocktail or whatever booze he could get his hands on. When the woman addressed him, he blinked twice before her words registered. “Who’s asking?”

  “I’m asking,” Cecelia fired back. “Lucy wanted me to give this letter to her brother, so I’m looking for him. Are you Daniel Harding or not?”

  Danny’s attitude changed immediately. “Give it to me!” He could hardly breathe he was clenching his body so hard. Closing the distance between them, he reached for the letter. “Please…”

  Cecelia placed a hand on Danny’s arm and slid the letter into his hand. “Hey.” She seemed softer suddenly. “She’s going to be fine. Lucy is a fighter.” There was a moment of quiet solidarity between them.

  “What’s it say?” Archie probed, eager to know what his wife had to say to Danny but not him. A pang of jealousy stabbed through him before he could stop it. “Come on, don’t keep us in suspense!”

  Danny tore the letter open and read silently. His heart pounded as Lucy’s words came to life on the page. He swallowed before he began to read aloud: “Danny, I keep thinking about my fifth birthday. One of the kids at my party pushed me down and got dirt all over my dress. You got in trouble for beating him up and were sent to bed with no cake. I snuck upstairs and brought you some anyway…” Danny’s voice cracked painfully. “That night you made me a promise that you would always protect me, no matter what the cost. I think that may have been the cake talking but all these years later, you have always held up your end of the bargain. No matter what happens, I want you to understand that you never let me down. Please look after Gabe the way you’ve always looked after me. He’s going to need your support now more than ever. Gabe will always be family, please remember that. I love you. Take care of yourself. Lucy.” Danny didn’t bother to wipe the tears streaming down his face as he rounded on Cecelia. “What the fuck is this? You said she was okay!”

  Cecelia grabbed the letter from his hand and frowned. “Damn it! Stupid puta is trying to say goodbye like we aren’t going to fucking break down the walls and get her out of there!” She drew in a ragged breath. “I don’t care if I have to give up my life to do it.” She turned to Danny and grasped his shoulders tightly. “Don’t get yourself worked up. Lucy is family now and I won’t rest until she’s safe.”

  Archie felt his stomach tighten painfully. “Why would she write something like this?” He turned to face the scarred woman and he licked his lips. He’d somehow lulled himself into a false sense of security. The Black Jacks wouldn’t hurt Lucy…right? Looking at Cece now, he was worried he’d misjudged the situation. “Did Sofía do that to you?”

  “Sí,” Cecelia replied softly. “A couple weeks after I arrived, I tried to escape…they had to bring out the big guns to stop me. She said it was an accident but I don’t believe it for a second. That woman is unhinged. It took me months to recover. I almost lost my eye.” Cece swallowed. “Just another reason we need to get moving. Lucy sent us here to find you. She hoped we could get the boys together to fight this side by side.” She grinned at Archie. “You’re way ahead of the game.”

  “With the Black Jacks holding our people hostage, we couldn’t take any chances with fucking this up. You’re too important…” Lucy was too important. Archie’s grief was starting to bleed into anger. Why would Lucy stay behind? Why would she write Danny a goodbye letter like that? Why had she sacrificed herself for these strangers? Archie would give anything to get her back…anything at all.

  * * *

  Candy had done an excellent job of giving Marco the silent treatment, but when Danny and Archie went into the house the group began to disperse and she could feel his eyes on her. Shifting uncomfortably, Candy looked for a way to escape. She broke left, heading toward the van, but he was faster. Marco grabbed her arm before she could bolt.

  “So…” Marco’s face was contorted into a frown. “How long has it been, Candy?”

  “Not long enough.” Candy inched away from him. “If you’ll excuse me—” She tried to turn away but he dogged her every step. The familiar scent of sandalwood and leather made her heart twist in her chest. “Seriously! What do you want, Marco?”

  “I just want to make sure you’re okay!” Marco snarled.

  “What do you even care?” She fired back. “I haven’t heard from you in fifteen years! Don’t you dare stand there and act like you give a damn about me.”

  “Jesus, Candy…” Marco scrubbed a hand across his stubbled jaw. “You were the one who ended things between us. I don’t have any resentment toward you for breaking things off, honey, but don’t act like it was my choice!” Marco’s brows furrowed.

  Candy slumped, knowing that he was right but hating how badly she still cared for him. “I’m fine, okay? Julia went with Bea, I’m sure she’s fine too.” This time when Candy shrugged away from Marco, she made sure to put distance between them. Heading back into the house, she followed the sound of voices. Cecelia had settled at the War Room table with Archie, Danny, and the rest of the Devils. Candy ensured her seat was far, far away from Marco before inserting herself into the conversation.

  Anita entered a few minutes later with Mort and Kyle in tow. “I’ve been in contact with Steve. He said that there are two women there who were part of the group who broke out of the Black Jacks compound?” A sigh of relief washed over the table. “I don’t know all the details yet but it seems that Steve’s got a further reaching influence than I realized.” Her complexion seemed chalky and her voice shook. “That being said, the FBI is willing to compensate you for your cooperation in this investigation.”

  Archie half expected pandemonium to break out at the mere mention of the feds…but instead, silence reigned. He glanced around the room. “What do you think, boys, this could be our best shot?”

  “I’m all for it,” Tim replied. “My girl’s still in there. I ain’t takin’ any chances.” He rested his palm on the table. “With the feds behind us, we don’t need to worry about somebody taking the fall if things go south.”

  “Marco?” Archie turned to him next.

  “I’m in.”

  “You have my support, as well,” Narayan offered.

  Rogelio Santos was nodding in agreement.

  Throughout the conversation, Danny’s focus remained solely on Cecelia. He itched to move the dark curtain of her dyed blue hair away from her face and examine the scars in detail. It took all his concentration not to…he had to keep reminding himself Cece would probably kill him if she even caught him staring. Danny cleared his throat, finally deciding it was his turn to speak. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if the feds get involved or not. I will do anything to get Lucy back. She’d do the same for us…”

  More murmurs erupted around the table. It was driving Cece nuts. “Enough! It’s time for some action. We’re wasting precious time.” She turned to face Rogelio. “Is this what you’ve been up to while I was rotting in there? Talking until you’re blue in the face, going around in circles…”

  Rogelio rolled his eyes. “You see what I have to go through with this one? She’s got a mouth on her.”

  Danny simply stood up, tugging his pants up his hips as he went. “I’m with Cece on this one. I’m sick of talking. It’s been weeks now. Lucy managed to break out a crew while imprisoned in that dump and we can’t even get our fucking asses together to go after her? Enough dicking around!” Danny folded his arms. “Archie? Come on man!”

  Archie dragged a hand over his face. “Fuel up, get a few hours sleep. We ride out at first light. It’s time to end this.” The longer this dragged on, the more he realized how badly he needed Lucy. Archie swore then and there: tonight was the last night he’d sleep without his wife by his side.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Lucy rolled over Sofía seated at the edge of her bed. There was something predatory in her eyes as she smoothed Lucy’s messy curls. Lucy skittered away as quickly as she could, pulling the blanket u
p around herself. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” She demanded. Although Lucy’s pregnancy wasn’t obvious yet, she was worried about this baby in ways she could hardly fathom. Lucy shifted uncomfortably, “What do you want?”

  “Pack your things. It’s time for us to go.” The expression on Sofía’s face was completely devoid of emotion. “Time is of the essence.”

  Sickness roiled in Lucy’s stomach and she inhaled sharply. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” She snapped.

  “Oh, yes you are. Otherwise I will kill your husband, your brother, and everyone you care about. Do not think I am bluffing. I would happily end the lives of these men and more to protect you, Lucy.” Sofía’s face remained permanently frozen in a smile but her tone dripped with icy venom. There was something dangerous in the way she remained ramrod still, almost as if she would lunge at any moment. “You have one hour to prepare. It is not safe here anymore…”

  “What do you mean it’s not safe?” Lucy needed to stall. There was a greenish hue to her skin as she tried not to inhale the cloying scent of Sofía’s perfume. She silently pleaded with the baby inside her to settle down and cooperate. “I thought it was us against the world…” A sadness crossed Sofía’s features so suddenly that Lucy would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been staring straight at her. She’d obviously hit a nerve; the only thing to do now was press harder. “I don’t know why you would want to leave this place behind after you worked so hard to build it.”

  “There are many things you do not understand, querida. I am your blood. I would do anything to protect you.” Sofía’s grey eyes misted with tears. “Your so-called friends robbed me and left. After everything I have done for them!” She shook her head angrily. “I can only imagine what horror they will unleash when they return for vengeance.” It was the MC way. No sleight of hand would ever go unpunished. “They are my people, Lucy, I do not wish to kill them. I wished for them to be happy here…but if they choose not to be, that is on them. We will be many miles away by the time they arrive.” Patting Lucy’s shoulder once more, Sofía strode toward the door. “Pack your things. I will return for you soon.”

  A string of curses tumbled from Lucy’s lips as the door slammed. Rushing to the bathroom, Lucy’s knees ached from the force of falling onto them; she purged the remnants of last night’s meager supper. After several minutes, she expelled nothing but bile. Lucy prayed for salvation as she tucked her legs beneath her and clung to the toilet bowl for dear life.

  Cecelia must have reached Errol by now. Julia and Bea would be working with Steve. It was only a matter of time before the troops rolled in…but it was cold comfort. Sofía was clearly spooked and wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. It was even more important now that Lucy hold on as long as she could. It took quite a while before the nausea began to pass. Per Bea’s instructions, Lucy took small sips of ginger ale, alternating with water to keep from dehydrating. Once she’d gathered enough strength, Lucy pushed herself up off the floor. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and staggered back toward the bed for a much needed nap.

  Sofía returned several hours later with a dark frown marring her features. “I told you to be ready to go. I do not have time to wait!” Walking to the edge of the bed, she intended to discipline her sister’s child, but found herself staring into a pair of bloodshot eyes. She rested her hand on Lucy’s forehead, brow creased with worry. “You have been ill.”

  Lucy swallowed hard and used the only weapon she had in her arsenal. “Sofía, I’m pregnant.” She watched Sofía go from homicidal to nearly giddy with excitement. Lucy exaggeratedly rubbed her flat belly for emphasis. “I feel awful lately. I haven’t been sleeping, I can hardly eat…I need time to rest, Sofía. I can’t be out on the road in my condition.” Lucy felt even sicker acting like she was some weakling who needed to be coddled; she was tough, despite the absolutely horrible way she was feeling right now. Still, Lucy couldn’t argue with the results. Sofía was eating it up.

  “My poor darling,” Sofía cooed. For a long moment she said nothing as she mulled over her next move. “If you cannot travel then we must stay and fight. I will rally the troops.” Sofía straightened her spine, as if gathering strength from her own decree. “This child is our blood and deserves to grow up in a safe place.”

  Lucy forced a smile. If being in the MC didn’t work out, she obviously could make a living as an actress. “What better place than here, Tía?”

  Sofía practically melted. “Of course, querida. You sit down and relax. I will have ginger ale and crackers brought to you—”

  “I’ve got them. Don’t worry.” Lucy cut her off. The only thing Lucy really needed now was time to gather her strength. Sooner or later, her family was going to come for her and she had to be ready to go when they did.

  “I will make all the arrangements. Do not worry about a thing.”

  As soon as the door was closed, Lucy locked it tight. She plopped down on the bed, drawing in deep breaths and trying to stop the stars dancing around her head. The bible sat on the opposite side of the nightstand and Lucy realized it was open. It seemed Sofía had helped herself to the book. She noticed a slight marking on the page, different from the code they used to communicate. An entire section had been highlighted…

  “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze…” The passage read.

  Lucy shuddered. An ominous feeling tugged at the pit of her stomach and it brought a new wave of nausea with it. Lucy wasn’t a praying woman on principle…but right now, she could use all the help she could get. She begged whichever deity would listen that her friends had reached their destination and she would get out of here soon. Most of all, she prayed that Gabriel would come for her soon. This baby needed its father and so did she.

  * * *

  “Let’s roll!” Archie’s voice boomed over the sea of bikers revving their engines. The entire group had spent the last few hours gathering supplies and breaking into their assigned teams. Meanwhile, the leaders hammered out the final details. Archie and the Devils would ride in first, followed by Nightriders, the Redhawks, and Los Santos would bring up the rear. First up on the agenda was meeting with the FBI handler. Then, they would ride up to the Black Jacks compound and take down anyone who tried to stop them. It wasn’t going to be easy, but time was running out.

  Archie drew his pistol and fired a single shot into the air, signaling it was time to go. The thunderous hum of motorcycles that echoed in reply shook the ground. Riders began to move in groups of ten, leaving space between each battalion. The prospects from each club drove vans with extra ammo and supplies in between each cohort. Designated leaders within the groups carried radios, radioing to each other as they headed for their destination.

  Danny rode beside Archie, his hands gripping the handlebars of his bike far tighter than was necessary. On his other side, Cecelia Santos barreled along in silence; she had insisted on coming with them and not a single man among them had the balls to tell her no. Cece’s brother, Rogelio, was stationed in the back with the rest of Los Santos. Narayan stayed in the middle of the group, leading his men with quiet dignity. Adela had already returned home to the care of her mother and the relief was palpable. Marco and Candy remained aloof with one another, keeping several riders between them the entire trip. MC members of all shapes, sizes, colors, and creeds rode together as one to take down Sofía Salma and the Black Jacks. It was a marvel to behold.

  Archie’s jaw ticked as they rode deeper into the Nevada desert. It was not so sweltering now that summer had ended, but there was still something oppressive lingering in the air. It hurt to take a breath. What was worse, the closer they got to the meeting point, the uneasier Archie became. Up ahead he could see the outline of trailers and a group of heavily armed men standing at the ready. Although Archie had no criminal record himself, he knew there were quit
e a few parolees and men with dark pasts among them. Cops tended to make people nervous and he could feel a shift in the atmosphere as they pulled down the service road to the meeting point.

  Steve stood beside Julia and Bea, chatting tersely as the massive sea of riders rumbled toward them. The dust cloud they kicked enveloped them, forcing Steve to cover his mouth with a bandana. “You should take cover,” He hollered over the noise, gazing over at the girls. Bea immediately got into the car. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest when Julia refused to budge; she tried in vain to keep her mouth covered with her hand. Steve sighed and handed over his own handkerchief without fanfare.

  Jules accepted the offering with the barest hint of a smile. There were so many men out there, so many different patches; she had never seen anything like it. It was oddly exciting. When the first group parked their bikes and dismounted, Steve stepped forward and Julia remained glued to his side. When he cast a sidelong glance at her, she met his gaze with a challenge of her own. He wasn’t going anywhere without her; the sooner he realized that, the better. Instead of arguing, Steve just shrugged and the two of them walked in sync, never breaking stride.

  Steve greeted Archie warmly but was met with nothing but stony silence. Steve didn’t take Archie’s stoicism personally; if it was his wife who was locked up, he didn’t imagine he’d be in a talkative mood either. However, it didn’t stop Steve from trying to lighten the mood. “You weren’t kidding when you said you had the manpower…”

  “I’m not taking any chances.” Archie’s voice was gruff, a combination of aggravation and exhaustion. “I’m prepared to fight with everything we have.” Reaching into the saddlebag on his bike, he pulled out the treaty Anita had drawn up. “I held up my end of the bargain.”

 

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