The smell of bacon entices me back to the kitchen. Still hungry, I help myself to a second and more substantial meal. One by one my brothers wander in and do the same. We eat almost in silence, each lost in our own misery tinged with the hope Heart will pull through. It’s like we don’t dare speak about it, as if by voicing our thoughts out loud we could jinx his recovery.
As eleven o’clock approaches, Drummer doesn’t have to summon us to church. Brothers are already walking in without the need to be reminded. And neither, for once, does the prez have to call us to order. All of us quiet and looking expectantly toward him, anxious to hear what he has to stay.
Half-heartedly he still bangs the gavel. “Shooter,” he points to the empty seat at the end of the table, “is stayin’ at the hospital as we agreed before we left. I’ve just spoken to him and there’s not been a change.”
Like others, I nod. With Heart in an induced coma he won’t awake, and any difference at this stage could only be a turn for the worse.
“The medics have allowed him into Heart’s room.”
That’s good news. We don’t want to leave him alone.
“Will one brother be enough, Drum?” Peg’s looking concerned. “If this was no accident, we don’t want any motherfucker able to get near enough to him to finish him off.”
“And that’s what we’re fuckin’ here to discuss, Peg.” Throwing a scowl at the sergeant-at-arms, the prez continues, “First off, who’s gonna be makin’ notes?”
I hadn’t thought about that. Heart, as our secretary, usually records the decisions we make. Hopefully, I look around the table. Dart’s raising his hand. Good, I don’t need to volunteer. Writing’s not my strong point.
“Okay. Everyone in favour of Dart takin’ over for Heart while he’s out of action?”
“Only until he’s back,” Dart quickly gets in, sounding confident he won’t be playing the role for long. It’s what we’ve all got to do, focus on him making a full recovery.
A chorus of ayes, Dart gets himself ready with paper and Peg slides the decision book over to him. Anything we vote on will need to be logged in there.
“Let’s get fuckin’ started then.”
Beef raises his hand. “What was it with the heat last night? D’ya reckon they think the accident was deliberate? They know something we don’t?”
“Get straight to it, why don’cha,” Drum replies with what passes for him as an attempt at a smile. “I have no fuckin’ idea. Couple of detectives new to me, don’t know what they might think. May be sniffin’ around just as Heart’s a member of our club.”
“You think they’ll share anythin’ they find?” Beef continues.
“Well, if they think someone ran them off the road, they’ll be back after what info they can get about enemies we, or Heart, might have. If they put it down to bad ridin’, I doubt we’ll hear from them again.”
“We’re doing our own investigatin’ though.” Blade scowls, and I know few of us trust the law to do a good enough job. Especially when it involves one of our brothers.
Wraith taps his fingers against the table. “What do we know?”
I wave my hand. “Heart and Crystal went down to Tombstone yesterday. Fuck knows why, but she had a hankerin’ to do something different. Wanted to see them acting out the shootout at the OK Corral. Seems she’s never been.” And ain’t that par for the course? Live near somewhere famous and never bother to visit?
Drum jerks his chin toward me. “We’ve been on lockdown until recently. They just wanted to get out and have some time on their own.” He brushes his hand down his beard. “They were on their way back. They left the road just south of Tucson on the I-10 heading north.”
No one offers anything else. It seems what we know doesn’t add up to a lot.
Blade, our enforcer, creases his eyes. “Heart have a private beef with anyone?”
“Not that I know of,” the prez responds. “Anyone know different?”
We all shake our heads. Heart’s not one to start trouble. He’ll have any of our backs in a fight, but is more peacemaker than a protagonist.
“Okay, so we know where and when, but not why or how.” His brow furrows. No one interrupts our prez’s thinking, giving him space to get it straight in his head. “He could have had a blow out, something wrong with his bike. We can’t rule out that it could have been an accident, his fault or not; another vehicle involved which didn’t fuckin’ stop. Or it could have been deliberate. An attack on Heart or the club.”
A lot of questions and a fuckload of missing answers. And to my mind, if another vehicle was involved, that driver’s a dead man whether he did it on purpose or not. They left my brother and his old lady lying dying on the side of the road. Who knows, getting treatment faster might have meant Crystal could have been saved.
“Won’t know much more until Heart wakes up.” I note Wraith didn’t add ‘if he does’. None of us want to even acknowledge the possibility.
“Blade, Slick, and I are going to the spot after this meetin’, see if there’s anythin’ to be found.”
I nod, mentally noting I’ll be looking for skid marks and possibly hoping to find evidence to show that anyone else was involved. Though, presumably, the police will already have done that. I’m hardly going to be lucky enough to find a lost license plate. I point to Drum’s cut. “You gonna see if that Hannah woman can give us some answers?”
Patting his pocket where he’d placed her card, the prez replies, “Let’s see what we can find first. Time for that when we come back.”
“What’s gonna happen to the kid?” Marvel, a relatively new member to our chapter with a love of comics is a normally a jovial chap to have around. Today like the rest of us, he’s solemn. I’d noticed him having a soft spot for the kid on more than one occasion, and am not surprised when he echoes my concern. “Didn’t much care for her gramma from what I saw.”
Drum sits forward, his expression fierce. “Heart and Crystal left her in the care of me and my ol’ lady. Sam’s lookin’ after Amy. She ain’t goin’ nowhere til we know what’s happenin’ with Heart. And even then I’m not willin’ to turn her over. Probably like you, I wanted to kick that woman up her fuckin’ ass.”
“Looked like she was usin’.” Lady drops in, and none of us make any move to suggest we disagree.
There’s a moment of silence which I use to spare a thought for the ebullient child being sent to live with such a woman. I suspect my brothers are thinking along similar lines.
“Well, she’s not takin’ charge of the child. Not if I have anythin’ to fuckin’ say about it.” Prez sounds determined.
“Did Heart and Crystal make any provision for her? Never even heard Crystal mention her mother. Didn’t even know she had family.” Dart’s frowning. He’d joined at around the same time as Heart if I recall rightly. They’d become prospects soon after I’d patched in. I’ve been here eight years, they’ve been here what…six? Yeah, that feels about right. Heart had got together with Crystal, who’d come by as a hang-around a couple of years later. It had been love at first sight.
Realising I’d lost myself there for the moment, I bring my attention back to the conversation.
“Yeah, I’ll get the club lawyer to check out her will.” I must have missed something, but I pick up the gist. Life in a one-percenter club can at times be dangerous, we all know what we’re signing up to when we join. When we’re patched in Drum sets up a meeting with the club lawyer and we draw up our wills so our affairs are in order if the worst should ever happen. And Drum’s down as executor—what’s officially called a personal representative here in Arizona—on each and every one, including those of the old ladies. He’ll be able to see if she’d given any thought about what would happen to the kid.
“While Heart’s out of action, Amy will be stayin’ with me and Sam,” Drum repeats, then adds almost slyly, “Sam could do with the practice.”
The prez just drops it in there, it takes a moment to sink in and Wraith�
��s the first off the bat. “Congrats in order, Prez?” He gives a wide grin.
As Drum returns a chin lift, for the first time this morning there’s a cheer around the table. Whether we’re congratulating him on getting his old lady pregnant, and so fucking quickly, or laughing at him for the predicament he’s in, I’m not sure. It can’t be much over three months ago that he’d met the bitch, and she’s already carrying his child? Well, fuck, when our prez puts his mind to something he doesn’t hang around. If that’s what he wants I’m happy for him. Not that having an old lady is something I’d consider. I’ll not be getting caught in that trap. Not again. Once was enough.
As my eyes stay on Drummer I see the fucker’s actually wearing a smile. Guess this is really what he wanted.
“What can I say? My swimmers know what they’re doin’.”
And then we all crack up. It releases the tension. Dart gets his cigarettes out and passes them around.
“Anything you need me to do, Prez?” Mouse’s fingers are hovering over his keyboard.
“Just check if there’s any movement with the Rock Demons. I’m pretty certain they’re not reassemblin’ around here, but put the word out? They’re the only fuckin’ one’s come to mind who might want to harm us. Oh, and check out that fuckin’ woman, the one who said she’s Crystal’s mom.”
“On it, Prez.”
Drum puts his hand to his mouth, another sign he’s thinking. “Peg, I think we should start being careful about ridin’ alone.” A collective groan goes around the table. That restriction has only just been lifted. I’m going to miss not being able to take off when I feel like it. I’d been thrilled when I was at last able to go out on my own wherever I want whenever I wanted. “Sorry, brothers.” Prez shrugs. “Until we know what we’re dealin’ with I don’t want to risk losin’ any more of ya.”
Peg’s nodding his head. “You only just got in before me, Prez.”
“And Joker, you okay to take over from Shooter? I want a brother with Heart at all times.”
“Fine with me, Prez.”
“I’ll take over from Joker,” Dollar volunteers. Which starts everyone, including me, saying we’ll do our turn.
Prez points to Dart. “You start a list, Dart, so everyone knows what they’re fuckin’ doin’. Until we know more, one brother will do. But those of you at the hospital, you don’t leave Heart for a fuckin’ moment. You want to piss, you do it in his bathroom and leave the fuckin’ door open. Anything suspicious, call for back up. You hear me?” As we all let him know that we do, he closes his eyes briefly, then opens them and starts to wrap up. “That’s all we can do for now. Keep close, and when we get any more intel we’ll reconvene.”
“We on lock-up?” Wraith asks it as a question, but it sounds more like a suggestion. While Drum’s considering, he adds, “Reckon the women will want to stay close. They’ll all want to help with Amy and give each other support.”
“Okay.” Drum reaches a decision. “We won’t make it compulsory, but just encourage everyone to stay at the compound. Anyone feels they need space to deal with this, just let me, Peg, or Wraith know. It’s one hell of a shock to all of us.” He pauses, then nods at me, and then across to the other side of the table. “Slick, you and Blade stay for a moment and then we’ll get goin’ to the accident site.”
The brothers filter out. I pop through the door for a second to collect my phone, then return and drop back into my seat. I turn it back on and check it. No messages. Good. Almost immediately the fucker starts buzzing loudly, shocking me so much it nearly drops from my hand.
Drummer pushes back his chair from the table, puts one foot up against the edge, and looks like he’s getting comfortable. He points to me. “Better answer that. In the current situation, we need to know all the shit that’s goin’ down.”
He’s right. Heart’s situation might be the start of attacks on the rest of the club. The screen’s reading No Caller Id. Hoping to fuck it’s not one of my bitches ringing up to offer me phone sex, I feel my face going red as I take out my phone, connect the call and put it to my ear. “Yeah?”
Oh shit!
“I already told ya. I ain’t talkin’ to you, bitch. Don’t fuckin’ ring me again, I don’t care what fuckin’ trouble you’re in.” Unwilling to hear her voice one second longer than I need to, I end the call and place my phone in my pocket. I swiftly turn to the prez. “We goin’ out then?” The snap in my voice causes Drummer’s eyes to narrow.
“Bitch problems?” he enquiries.
Now I’m not thinking straight, so I answer him honestly when I would have done better to keep my mouth shut. “It’s that bitch Ella. Second time she’s called.”
His foot crashes down and he leans forward. “What she want?”
I shrug. I hadn’t given her time to tell me. “Fuck if I know. Wanted my help.”
His eyes sharpen. “And you didn’t think to find out what the fuck she needs?”
I glare at him. “No I fuckin’ didn’t. You know what happened, Prez. She’s fuckin’ nothing to me. Four months ago she walked out on me with no word.”
“Girl did a solid for the club. We owe her big time, Slick.” Blade, knife in his hand, points the tip at me to emphasise his point.
Drum tunnels his hands through his hair. He sounds exasperated. “I don’t care what the fuck happened between you and her, Slick. If she needs anythin’, Satan’s Devils will have her back.”
That pulls me up. I hadn’t thought of it like that. I was only thinking of what she’d done to me, ignoring what she’d done for all my brothers. She’d enabled us to get intel, which most certainly had saved lives. Feeling a bit of an asshole, I give a slow nod. “I suppose she did do us a favour. But someone else can contact her, find out what she wants.”
Drum lifts his head. I can’t read what he’s thinking, but when he opens his mouth I wish he’d stayed silent. Piercing me with his steely gaze and using the tone that I know would accept no contrary argument, he states, “She’s your responsibility, it was you who claimed her fuckin’ ass and made her your ol’ lady. After we’ve been to the accident site you go and see her, Slick, and find out what the fuck she needs. And whatever we can do to assist, make sure we fuckin’ provide it. You got me?”
I got him. Loud and fucking clear. And no matter how hard I glare at him, he’s not going to back down. Yeah, I’d claimed the bitch, but I’ve never even fucked her, and isn’t that the fuck of all jokes? That doesn’t make her my old lady. She doesn’t mean shit to me.
Chapter 6
Ella
Present day
Sitting on my bed with my phone to my lips, I berate myself for even thinking of making that call. Why I thought there was a chance he’d answer the second more civilly this morning than he did the call last night, I don’t know, but contacting him had been out of sheer desperation. Whichever way I looked at it, and heaven help me, I’ve tried, there is no one else I can approach for help. After what I put myself through for the club, I thought they’d be willing to come to my aid. But Slick won’t even give me a chance to explain. Oh God, it’s been four months since I’d seen him. I hadn’t realised that he’d hate me so much. Tears prick in my eyes.
His anger shouldn’t bother me. I shouldn’t care what he thought about me leaving without a word. And the sound of his voice, and as enraged as it was, shouldn’t be causing me to regret the chance I never had. Throwing the phone down, I slap the palm of my hand to my forehead. Why does his rejection hurt so much? And why did his cruel words and abrupt dismissal make me want to cry? I’ve got to be stronger than this. I’d done the right thing. The only thing I could have done.
Plumping the pillows up behind me, I lean back my head. Slick. No, I don’t regret leaving him. I couldn’t have stayed. If he thinks I’m contacting him to rekindle our non-relationship he’s oh so very wrong. Four months and nothing has changed. I’m stuck in a prison of my only making, as powerless to move on as able to turn back time and never set foot in the R
ock Demons’ club.
Angrily I swipe at my eyes, knowing my tears are wasted. Contacting Slick had been a last resort but he isn’t even willing to listen, let alone help. It’s clear he wouldn’t even give me the time of day.
“You fuckin’ in there, Els?” The yelling is accompanied by a banging on my bedroom door.
Shit! Quickly dragging an oversized tee over my head and pulling up some jogging bottoms, I go and cautiously open the door to find Bart, my housemate, Tilly’s good-for-nothing layabout boyfriend. His eyes rake over me, and a smirk comes to his face mottled from excessive drinking. What she sees in him I’ll never know, but for the past month he’s been sharing our space. I can only hope that it won’t be for much longer. Surely she’ll get tired of him soon. I’ve taken to keeping to my room while he’s around.
“Whatcha want, Bart?” I ask wearily, pulling my shirt around me and folding my arms over my chest.
Accompanied by a leer that tells me he’s being deadly serious, he asks, “A blow job?” As I go to slam my door shut he throws out his hand, stopping it in its tracks. “You’re a tight-ass bitch, ain’tcha?” He shakes his head, but the flare in his eyes suggests he might not be far off forcing me.
Compelling myself to stay calm when inside I’m close to losing it, I swallow rapidly to moisten my dry mouth and make my offer again. “What do you want? And sex is not in the cards.”
“More’s the fuckin’ pity.” But at least he takes his hand away, leaving me in control of the door once again.
It’s not much of a plus, there’s no lock on my side. Where the fuck do you go, Tilly, to find these men? Is there some kind of losers’ store somewhere? It’s not the first stray she’s brought home. Though Bart’s possibly the least house-trained, and that’s saying a lot.
“Tilly’s fuckin’ out. I want breakfast.” Yes, she would be out. She’s got a job as a barista. She works to support his lazy ass. Biting my tongue to stop myself from telling him to go get it himself, I satisfy myself with rolling my eyes. Luckily, he’s chosen that moment to look away, and I’m glad that he did. Tilly’s been wearing extra makeup lately and it’s not hard to understand why. But this is the first time he’s so blatantly asked me for sex, though I’d seen it coming. She and I are going to have a serious chat when she gets in from work—when he’s taken her earnings and gone out drinking again.
Slick Running (Satan's Devils #3) (Satan's Devils MC) Page 7