Slick Running (Satan's Devils #3) (Satan's Devils MC)

by Manda Mellett

  “Can’t you just confront her?”

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” she cries. “I’ve talked calmly to her. I’ve tried to reason with her. I’ve yelled at her. But she won’t give me a thing.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I think she’s scared. She tries to act as normal, but it’s like she’s forgotten how to be a young girl.”

  “I’ll take it back to the club.” It doesn’t sound like it would be too much to ask, and as Drum reminded me, whatever wrong she did me, she did an enormous favour for the club. One that ended up getting her hurt. “I think we’ll be able to help you, but I’ve got to run it by the prez.” I offer a small smile. “Hopefully it will just be that she’s grown into a normal teenager. Sullen and sulkin’…”

  “I’ve thought about that. But the new things she has…”

  Ella probably wasn’t brought up the same way as me, so I don’t bother suggesting Jayden might have been stealing. And that’s another option we’ll have to explore, and perhaps knock her life of crime on the head before she gets caught.

  “Don’t worry, Ella. I’m sure Prez will agree to look into it.”

  “Thank you, Slick. I just didn’t know what else to do.” She lets out a sigh of heartfelt relief that at last she’s got someone on her side.

  I turn and look at her. Really look at her. The way she described her sister, well, the description fits her too. Her eyes are clouded, her face pinched, her hair neglected. Once reaching down to her ass and shining, it’s been chopped off—and clearly not by a hairdresser—and is ragged and lifeless, the stunning auburn colour now dull. She looks like she’s given up. Another crack in the wall as I gaze at my old lady. The woman I’d claimed in front of my club. The woman who left me before I even had the chance to know her. She’d been the only woman I’ve ever thought I could love, and she’d thrown it back in my face.

  I’d ridden up to her door with such a feeling of loathing, detesting the very thought of seeing her again. But seeing her this way, looking so broken, it’s difficult to maintain the animosity inside.

  Putting my hand to her chin, I raise her face, noticing she immediately pulls away. Ignoring her reaction, I continue with my question. “How you doing, Ella? How you doing, really?” I point to her ribs. “Are you all healed up?” Grasping she’s uneasy with me touching her, I drop my hand.

  She swallows before answering, and her eyes flick away, already alerting me that I’m going to hear a lie. “I’m fine, Slick. I’m just worried about Jayden.”

  Something tells me what’s bothering her is another matter entirely. Sure, she’s worried about her sister, but this decline hasn’t come in a few days. But why the fuck should I care? She’d walked out and left me. She’s not my responsibility anymore.

  I stand and grab my sunglasses and gloves from where I left them on the side by the door. “I’ll go back to the club, bring your problem to the table. I’ll let you know what they say.”

  She remains on the couch but looks up with a nod. “Thank you, Slick.”

  Then, at last, I’m able to walk out and leave her.

  Fuck! I shouldn’t want to help her, shouldn’t have this desire to put a full smile back on her face. But for some reason I do. She’d killed my feelings for her stone fucking dead. But I can see that she’s hurting, and while I don’t understand the extent to which it’s bothering me, I can’t bear to see her looking so lost.

  When I get back to the compound several of the brothers are already milling around the bar. At my approach, Marsh waves a beer in my direction and I take it with a nod. Drum breaks off his conversation and comes across, his eyes searching my face. He knows full well where I’d been and who I’d been seeing. After we’d done what we could at the accident site, I’d peeled off to ride into Tucson and left him and Blade to turn toward home.

  “How did it go?”

  I shrug. “We havin’ a meetin’?” At his nod, I continue, “I’ll tell everyone there.” Saves me going through the whole thing twice.

  “Somethin’ we need to get involved with?”

  “Prez, I’m not really sure. Maybe.”

  “She did a lot for this club. Couldn’t have taken down the Rock Demons without the info we got.”

  I nod in agreement, starting to wonder at just how much she’d sacrificed in order to help us. And whether there are still things I don’t know. A picture of a woman so clearly damaged comes into my head. Did we, I, do that to her?

  It seems Drummer had been waiting for my return, as I’ve barely emptied the bottle when he calls us all in. We take our seats, and as I wipe my hands over my face and look at my brothers it hits me what a long fucking day this has been. I’m dead on my feet, and I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone else was in the same boat.

  The prez calls us to order then starts his update. “Blade, Slick, and me, well we’ve been to the site.” I nod as he continues, picturing it in my mind. A broken crash barrier, police tape flapping in the breeze. No skid marks on the road, and the police having removed the bike, only marks in the ground showing where it had laid. Although I’m not religious I’d stood and bowed my head at the spot, hoping there might be a god out there to answer the prayer I’d sent up for my fallen brother.

  “Unless the police let us take a look at the bike, or Heart comes around and is able to talk to us, we’re still no closer to findin’ out what happened,” Drum finishes up.

  “They’re callin’ for any witnesses on the local news.” Dollar tips his bottle toward Drum. “I just seen it.”

  “I’ll ring this Hannah woman in the mornin’.” Drum jerks his head. “Though it probably would be too much to fuckin’ hope they’ll give us much information. Shooter, any change in Heart’s condition?”

  Shooter’s looking drawn. “He coded while I was there. But they got him back. He’s fightin’, Prez, but I dunno. I spoke to the doc, she’s harpin’ on about the fact Heart wasn’t wearin’ a helmet.”

  I close my eyes briefly. In Arizona, if you’re over eighteen you don’t need to wear a lid. Confident in our riding skills, most of us don’t. Could a brain bucket have saved him? Who the fuck knows? Desolation rolls over me, the thought of my brother with his life hanging on by a thread almost a physical pain. What the fuck had happened? What had made his bike go off the road? He’s not a reckless rider, and especially not with his wife riding two up. “There had to be someone else involved.”

  I didn’t realise I’d spoken my thought aloud until Drum responds, “Have to say, that’s the feel in my gut too.”

  And we spend a few minutes again trying to work out who the fuck it could have been. Getting nowhere of course.

  Drum bangs the gravel. “Slick, what did Ella want?”

  “Hey, you been to see your ol’ lady?” Beef laughs, and I scowl. Yeah, it’s a fucking joke to them that I put everything on the line and claimed her and she walked out on me not two weeks later.

  “Shut the fuck up, Beef.” Drum glares at him, and that’s all it takes. “Slick?”

  I let them in on her worries.

  Mouse grins. He always loves a new problem to solve. “Kid that age must have Facebook or Instagram. I’ll get onto her stuff and check it out.”

  “She go out often?”

  “Apparently so.”

  “Let’s get a prospect on her. See who’s she’s meetin’.” I nod at Wraith, grateful he’s offering the club’s help.

  “Can she get hold of her sister’s phone?”

  I raise my shoulders. “I don’t fuckin’ know. If there’s anythin’ on it, the girl’s hardly likely to offer it up.”

  Mouse pinches his nose. “I could try and get into her records, but that’s not gonna be easy. Havin’ the device would be the best by far.”

  “You tell me where she is and I’ll get it for ya.” Tongue’s grinning, and I remember how he survived on the streets as a boy. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve used his pick-pocketing skills. I nod, a dual-purpose gesture both to thank him and to let him kn
ow I’ll find out for him.

  “Can you bring her to the clubhouse, Slick? If I’m lookin’ at her Facebook page she might know what’s kosher and what’s not.”

  “I’ll try, Mouse.” I can’t help wondering whether she’ll ever want to set foot in the compound again. And just as importantly, whether I would want to see her in what is essentially my home.

  “Right, so we’re all on board and we’ll help Ella. And you douchebags, we all know what went down, or didn’t, between her and Slick. But we might not all be sitting here if she hadn’t had helped like she did. We got crucial information from those cameras she planted, and she got hurt for her troubles. She comes to the clubhouse you treat her with some fuckin’ respect. And that goes for you too, Slick.”

  I start as Drum focusses that steely glare on me, realising what a dick I’ve been toward her. Was it me that fucked up? Like a light bulb illuminating, it dawns on me that all the time I’ve been blaming her, lost in the embarrassment she’d caused me, the hurt to my pride the way she’d thrown my embryonic love for her back in my face, that perhaps I’d been wrong to let her go. I never actually told her my feelings for her, I just expected her to know. When she’d left I’d been so hurt and angry I’d not even followed her, let alone questioned her on why she’d gone. Had it been something I’d done, or perhaps something I’d missed? Something other than the danger of my life that she couldn’t take? Perhaps it’s past time that we had that conversation. Accepting at least some of the blame lies at my door another crack appears, this time a big one, and bricks start tumbling down.

  “Slick!” Drum growls, “You treat her with fuckin’ respect, you hear me?”

  Seeing he’s waiting for my response, I give a sharp nod. I hear him loud and clear.

  “Okay. We’re all fuckin’ talked out. Rock, you takin’ over for Dart at the hospital later?”

  “Yeah, Prez.”

  “Right, church fuckin’ over. Go get laid, sleep, drink or play with your dicks. Whatever the fuck you want and we’ll meet back tomorrow.” Drum bangs the gavel and the meeting ends.

  Chapter 8

  Ella

  The nightmares last night hadn’t surprised me. I didn’t expect to escape unscathed. Seeing Slick again had not unexpectedly brought everything back. I’d woken with the covers wrapped around me, my body covered in sweat, and had run to the bathroom and retched, straining over the bowl with nothing to bring up.

  I’d known it was wrong to contact him when I hadn’t yet begun starting to heal. Only the desperation and worry about my sister had driven me. What else could I have done? Go to the police with some vague notion someone might be hurting Jayden, when she could just be going through a rebellious stage? As her sister I see it only too well that there’s far more to it than that. But to anyone else she’d probably appear like a normal, grumpy teenage girl. I’m relieved Slick seemed to believe me, and enough to try to get his club involved.

  Seeing him again though, well, my nightmares showed me I was paying the price.

  I go through the motions of getting dressed, throwing anything on that comes to hand. I’m just making a coffee when the sound of a motorcycle coming up the street causes me to catch my breath. And when it stops outside my house, I put my hand to the wall. Is it him? I don’t want to see him. He might have brought news. And if he has, I can’t avoid talking to him. I need to hear anything he has to say for Jayden’s sake. I’ve started this now, and must follow it through.

  My heart’s in my mouth when the knock comes at the door. And yes, it’s him, Slick, who’s standing in front of me once again. I take a deep breath, about to stand aside to let him pass, and then I notice there’s something different about him. Yesterday his cheeks had been reddened, his eyes narrowed, deep creases lined his forehead, and his mouth had been fixed in a scowl.

  Today his brow is smooth as he gives a nod and his lips curl into a hesitant smile. “Gonna let me in, darlin’?”

  Bemused by the transformation, and realising I’m standing with my mouth hanging open and my body blocking the doorway, I step out of the way. He puts a helmet on the side and tucks his sunglasses into his cut. When did he start wearing a helmet? His hands come out tentatively, hovering in the air for a moment, and then land on my biceps. My automatic reaction is jump free and back out of his reach.

  His eyes narrow fast. “Can we talk, darlin’?”

  “Have you news from the club? Are they going to help me?” If so, he can tell me and leave. It hurts too much to be this close to him, unable to prevent my body’s automatic reaction, my head fighting my mixed emotions, wanting him to draw me to him and wanting him to stay far away. As I wait for his answer, I wrap my arms around my body as though giving myself comfort.

  Observing my every movement, he doesn’t keep me waiting and puts me out of my misery fast. I don’t think I knew how much I’d been counting on their assistance until he gives me his reply, a simple nod and a yes.

  “Oh, thank God!” My hand covers my mouth as I gasp with relief that I’m no longer handling this alone.

  “Mouse needs to speak with ya. Get what you know about Jayden and her habits.”

  That seems fair enough.

  He waves over toward the couch. “Sit with me, Ella. We need to talk.”

  My nightmares have unsettled me, having been forced to relive that night in my dreams I don’t want to be close to any man today, especially a biker. What he needs to know I can tell him right here. “Just ask what Mouse needs to know. Then you can go.”

  He shakes his head, still watching me carefully. “Naw, that’s between you and Mouse. He wants me to bring you to the club so he can sit down with ya. There’s somethin’ I need ya to know first.”

  While I go cold at the thought of going back to the clubhouse, he ignores the escape route I offered him, brushing past me to take a seat. Realising he intends to stay, I close the door and turn around, for the first time noticing how tired he looks.

  “Are you alright, Slick?” Now I’m concerned for him rather than me.

  He shakes his head, the corners of his mouth turning down. “No, Ella, I’m not.”

  As his hand smooths over his head, it seems to be trembling. He’s hurting. I tamp down my fears about visiting the club enough to ask, “What’s the matter, Slick?”

  He looks at me with over-bright eyes, moisture making them glisten. “Heart and Crystal were involved in an accident on Saturday. We don’t know what happened, but they came off their bike. Crystal…” His voice breaks and he clears his throat before continuing, “Crystal didn’t make it, and it’s still touch and go for Heart.”

  I gasp. Crystal was a good woman, lively and happy, and both of them adored their daughter. “Amy?” I ask, unable to think of the poor child losing her mom.

  “Amy’s fine. Well, as much as she can be. Sam, that’s Drummer’s old lady—you wouldn’t have met her—she’s lookin’ after the kid. At least until we know what’s gonna happen with Heart.”

  Drummer’s got an old lady? That must have happened fast. It’s only been a few months since I was last at the club.

  My mind starts working. In a flash, I remember what it was like at the Satan’s Devils clubhouse. Things I’d blocked out which had been overshadowed by my experience with the Rock Demons. Old ladies and Amy, men laughing and fooling around. And then there’s Slick, now sitting in front of me, tears in his eyes as he tells me of the accident. Am I lumping them all in together just because they ride bikes? My hands go to my cheeks and I rub them. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. My head starts to throb.

  “Look, I know you don’t like the life or the club very much, but Mouse needs you there. I needed to tell ya about Crystal ‘cause you’d find out if you went. Another reason for you to hate us I expect.”

  “I don’t hate the club, Slick.” My eyes widen, realising it’s true. I’m downright terrified of what they represent, but it doesn’t translate into animosity toward them. And it wouldn’t be Crystal’s
death, while sad and unexpected, that would stop me going back to the club.

  “No?” He looks at me and shakes his head. “I think you made it pretty clear that you do, darlin’.” He clasps his hands together and then looks down at them. “I can’t really blame ya. That day was fucked up. You were drugged, men killed. Fuck, we lost Adam. One fuck of a lot for a citizen like you to deal with.” He pauses then looks at me. “Guess I wasn’t thinkin’ that way at the time. Just saw you going as a kind of betrayal.”

  I had left at the very worse time. I worry at my lip as I suddenly understand how much I’d hurt him.

  “I hated you, Ella. As much as anything you’d hurt my pride. But I can’t hate you anymore. The life isn’t for you, I should never have claimed you. I got carried away. I thought I saw a strong woman, but maybe I was wrong.”

  Now it’s my eyes that fill with tears, and I can no longer look at him. There’s so much pent up emotion inside I can’t stop it from coming out. I sink down on the couch beside him, my face falls into my hands as I start crying. Huge body wracking sobs that make him take me into his arms. Immediately I start fighting, struggling to get away, but he doesn’t let me loose. Automatically my hands clutch at his cut, but as I gulp in air the smell of leather and oil invade my senses, and it’s too much. My arms start flailing as panic overtakes me.

  But he won’t let me go. As I continue struggling his arms tighten around me until I give up. As my tears flow he begins rocking me like a baby, holding me without speaking for as long as it takes. When my sobs begin to slow he starts murmuring quietly that everything’s going to be okay, when I know that it won’t. Nothing will ever be okay, ever again.

  “Hush, darlin’. You don’t need to come to the club. I’ll get Mouse to come here. Don’t worry about it. We’ll sort out whatever the fuck’s up with your sister. Hush, don’t cry sweetheart. It will be alright.”

  My fingers grip onto his leather. My mouth moves as words I never dreamed I’d utter aloud try to escape. I choke them back, not wanting to admit it, not understanding what triggers my confession, why what I’d kept buried so deep starts tumbling out. And once I say it, I know I’ll never be able to put it back in the box.