No Second Thoughts (Seven Devils MC Book 2)

by Candice Owen

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Seven Devils had several holds throughout Gold Creek and the surrounding areas. Everyone who was in on the gold-find owned their houses and businesses outright and completely. They had a few properties like the cabin where Blanche and Jason stayed and they tended to circulate residency that way. Now that Jason was back at his house, a couple of the club members were at the cabin. Despite their reluctance to accept Blanche into their folds, they did come together as an organization and were on high alert.

  They were going to best the Norte Mexicali once and for all. It was going pretty well, especially when it looked like the recently-captured El Salvador who Jason wounded was going to join forces. Unfortunately, he did not and Deputy District Attorney Tim Paisley had to release him. Since he was shot just outside the strange property line surrounding the cabin and Gold Creek didn’t actually own the land he was standing on, he wasn’t actually trespassing. So he disappeared.

  The problem was that, in addition, someone else from the town also disappeared. The sheriff of the town who was on something of a sabbatical, nursing a family member injured by the Norte Mexicali, was also missing: Dana Levington, the sheriff in charge when Blanche first came to town as an El Salvador assassin, had simply went off the radar.

  No one had heard from him in days, just about the time Jason and Blanche showed up from the cabin. Dana made no effort to disguise the fact that he just about hated Blanche. If it weren’t for her and her kind, Norte Mexicali that is, his family would not be suffering the way that it was.

  While the town bustled around trying to address the safety of one of their own, Blanche couldn’t help but feel responsible. It didn’t help that as she sat in the Café San Juan eating scrambled eggs and drinking coffee, she could feel the collective disapproval of everyone in the place. She didn’t dare ask for more coffee. If she were to get it, she wouldn’t dare drink it. This was an awful situation. Jason dropped her off to take care of a few things and told her to stay put until he got back. They had ridden into town together, so she couldn’t really just go for a ride.

  After paying her bill and over-tipping, Blanche went next door to a convenience store to indulge in a terrible habit. When she was stressed like she was, she liked to smoke. She had just eaten. She had her coffee. And now she thought at least, I want to light up.

  Most of California, in general, was uppity when it came to smoking, but in a biker town, it was pretty well accepted. That and hard drinking, like in most biker communities. But then Gold Creek, a biker town in many ways, was not ordinary. The town folk had to be physically and mentally fit and couldn’t make themselves vulnerable to bad habits, or they would risk their precious gold.

  Still, a few of the Seven Devils did smoke. Blanche unzipped the cellophane wrapper and removed the foil. She held a cigarette between her teeth and lit it up.

  It was one thing to have the idea of smoking, remembering it fondly, and quite another to take that first hit after having not smoked in a while. Blanche launched into a choking fit on the first drag. She felt really stupid as she struggled to regain her breathing. She dashed back into the Café San Juan for a glass of water, barely able to speak.

  The waitress was extraordinarily cold. “Put that cigarette out. There is no smoking in here,” she hissed. Blanche raced outside to mash out the cigarette. She returned, still hacking. The waitress scolded, “Did you just litter? This is Gold Creek, honey. Maybe that human trash you ran with is okay with making a trashcan out of the place they live, but we got standards. Go pick it up.”

  Blanche was barely able to hear what she was saying. She would have loved to go out and pick up a cigarette butt, but she was now consumed with what felt like might be an asthma attack. She could not be having one of those, because she was not asthmatic. When she heard the clink of the ice water on the bar, she grappled for it and spilled it. The waitress cursed and Blanche blacked out.

  The white unfiltered light of the California sun pierced Blanche’s eyes as she came to on the sidewalk out in front of Café San Juan. The waitress and a few others stooped over her and stared, but did not offer anything to comfort her in any way.

  The sidewalk was warm and felt good on her muscles. She really just wanted to sleep. If everyone would just leave her alone, she could sleep where she was, for just a little while, but she felt her pocket buzzing. It must be her phone. Some part of her wanted to get it, but, mostly, she wanted to sleep. She would get it later.

  The problem with having come to town on a motorcycle was that the guy who showed up to take you to the doctor’s couldn’t really give you a ride there and the EMTs were taking their sweet time about getting to her.

  Blanche was barely conscious. It felt like something more than a dream, but she believed Jason was finally there. She was awake enough to hear someone say, “Why not take her into County General so that she can be safely out of our hair?”

  “I’m not letting her out of my sight! And I am damn sure not leaving until I know which one of you did this to her!” It really was the first time that she had heard him yell like that.

  “We didn’t do anything to her,” snipped the waitress. “Good lord. You make us put up with her. Have her in our face and we are pretty polite, considering. No. She was smoking a cigarette and went into a fit. Serves her right.”

  Blanche tried to speak. She believed she was saying she wanted to go to ‘County General.’ Finally, after struggling to be clear, Jason got it. “Okay,” he said. She could tell he wasn’t happy about the decision.

  They decided to transport her without lights and sirens and took her the back way. En route, she picked up the EMTs saying they would take her to a trauma unit, a private care facility. Whoever they were talking to, it was apparently their boss, because the guy on the phone kept saying, “Okay boss. Okay.” The trauma unit. Blanche thought that made perfect sense to her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  It was awfully cool in the room as she awoke. Despite the fact that she had a room to herself, there was a curtain track from which loosely hung a green curtain. She was pretty sore. To move pained her, so she kept as still as possible. Perhaps it was the injury, for she knew she had banged her head pretty good, though, for the life of her, she could not remember when or how, but she had a strange sense of inner peace, like there was no fear or rage within. When the doctor entered the room, she was glad to see him.

  He didn't seem to return the sentiment. His face was stern and cold. "I see you're awake," he said.

  "Yes," she answered.

  "Do you remember being awake before?" he asked.

  "No I don't," she replied. Worry began to creep in.

  "And I suppose you don't remember your name still; do you?"

  "No," she said.

  "Well I am going to fill you in. You are a prisoner of the town of Gold Creek. I am Sheriff Dana Levington. You are my prisoner. Your name is Mirna Mercado."

  "Mirna Mercado?" she parroted, trembling involuntarily.

  "Yes. You banged your head trying to escape," he lied.

  "What was I arrested for?" she asked.

  "Prostitution, I am afraid," he answered. "You are in the infirmary right now."

  Blanche was struck with a question, "If you're a sheriff, where is your badge?"

  Dana reached beneath his neckline and pulled out a badge. He let Blanche inspect it. She was unable to read. The writing on the badge didn't make much sense to her.

  She just accepted it was what he said it was. "Do you think I could call my lawyer?" she asked.

  Dana crooked a brow. "Your lawyer?" he asked sarcastically. "Sure. You can talk to him. Do you even remember his name?" He was cruel, she decided. It seemed as though she did, indeed, remember having someone. She struggled to recollect the lawyer's name but she drew a blank. A big fat empty blank.

  "No?" he asked. "Nothing?"

  "Jason!" Blanche blurted out from nowhere. The alarm on Dana's face was visible.

  "Your lawyer's name is Jason?
Does he have a last name?"

  "No," said Blanche. "I don't remember." The emotion that rose within her made her head hurt. "If I can't see my lawyer, can I please see the doctor? Or a nurse? I don't feel so good."

  There was a knock on the door. The man who entered regarded Dana gravely. "Dana, she could be really hurt. She doesn't remember anything. I think this has gone on long enough."

  Dana didn't like the man's advice. His eyes flared with threat. "I'll handle this."

  The man sidestepped Dana. "You okay, Blanche?" he asked. "You need anything?"

  "Blanche?" she was confused. "I thought my name is Mirna."

  "I was for this, but I think we have done enough," said the second man. "I'm as upset about Kevin as anyone, but I am not about being cruel."

  "Well with that kind of compassion, she ought to be in good hands," Dana growled.

  "Dana, they are going to come looking for her. They found her once before and they'll find her again."

  "Wait," said Blanche. "Did I or did I not commit a crime?" The man and Dana answered simultaneously. Dana said yes but the man said no. "And are you a nurse?" she asked the man. "Because I am really hurt."

  Dana glared at the man who, Blanche could see, struggled to answer, "I was a medic in the service. It's been a while."

  "You're a dick," Dana cursed him. "She is injured and she's causing division."

  "If you give this up, whatever it is," said Blanche, "no one need ever know."

  Dana laughed. A broad smile painted his face. "Are you offering to let me off? It's the other way around, I think."

  Blanche studied him. He looked cornered. His buddy was not on his side. Dana was outnumbered, except that he had a gun. And she was in bad shape. She closed her eyes, deciding she would suffer as comfortably as she could, hoping for the best. Blanche could hear them arguing. Dana was working with the Norte Mexicali.

  She pricked up her ears as soon as she heard that term. Blanche. Norte Mexicali. Gold Creek. Jason.

  It felt like it was all coming back to her, the fragments of her life, but still not connecting well. From what she gathered, she had offended Dana so badly that he joined forces with the town enemy to destroy her. The second man kept trying to reason with him that his plan was crazy, that he would be the one who would be ostracized from town, not her. He asked Dana, "Do you really want her to be more welcomed than you?"

  Blanche determined the man was getting to Dana. Dana shouted, "Leave me alone! I know what I'm doing!"

  In Blanche’s estimation, Dana was tormented, pressured. The only thing she could do now was bide her time and hope, like the other guy had said, someone would find her. Alive. The pain at the back of her head was awful. She felt as though she had been hit by a car. As she lay still, bits and pieces were fluttering through her mind.

  She remembered that she had been in a restaurant. She could see the bar with its hunter green painted interior and a woman with loosely upswept hair. Blanche felt like she had been at the restaurant for some reason, waiting for someone and that the woman with the upswept hair worked there. When Blanche tried to force more revelation, it seemed to pain her, so she stopped.

  She listened. The discussion began again. The other man was, again, trying to convince Dana to bring her to the hospital, because, he said, she was really injured. “You don’t want this to turn into a murder rap,” he said.

  Dana answered, “She’s fine. You’ve seen her.”

  “Yes, but she has a major head injury. Things can change with that at any time. Look at Kevin.”

  Dana’s voice took on an intense tone, “Do not bring him up again. If you expect me to have the same sympathy for her as I do for him –“

  “Of course not. But you said, yourself, she wrecked your life. She wrecked his life. Your entire family’s lives. She will do it again if anything happens to her. No one is going to say this is justified, like it or not. Just think about it.”

  Blanche could hear someone get up.

  “Where are you going?” Dana demanded.

  “To check on her,” he answered.

  Their discussion gave Blanche an idea. When the other fellow entered the room, she began to complain mildly, “I don’t feel so well.”

  “I know you’re hurt,” he said. “Can you be more specific?”

  “Just weird. I can’t describe it,” she replied, making her voice faint and shrill.

  The man felt her forehead. He waved a penlight in front of her eyes. First the one, then the other. When the light hit the second, she was decided to do it. She faked a seizure. She wasn’t quite sure how it should go, but she did her best.

  The ruckus caused Dana to rush into the room. “What is going on?” he demanded.

  “I think she is seizing,” the man said. The fact that he didn’t have enough medical experience to know she was faking it sort of scared her. What if there was something wrong with her and they couldn’t tell? Her head was not good. Blanche made choking noises like she was swallowing her own tongue.

  Dana panicked. “Stop her, man! Can’t you do something?”

  “I can’t. If she is okay, she will just pass out. If she’s not –” said the man.

  “Then what?” Dana grabbed him. “What?!”

  “You gotta keep your voice down,” the man said in a hushed voice. “You are not helping her.”

  “Fine,” Dana said. “Take her in.”

  “Me? This is your deal. I just came over because you said you had a sick friend. Get the guys who dropped her off.”

  Dana was hesitant. “Those were just some guys who owed me a favor.”

  “Like what kind?” the guy demanded. Dana was shamefully quiet. “What do you mean, Dana? Did you let someone off that should be arrested?”

  “I might have. Look, I will fix it. We have to get her to the hospital. I want this bitch well so I can kill her.” Blanche could feel him thinking. “Fuck it. Put her in my car. We will drop her off at County General. I will cover my tracks if I have to.”

  Part of her was afraid of being moved in any way except by ambulance, but part of her still had that strange inner calm. She told herself she would suffer through whatever if it meant she was away from the man who hated her so much. When they brought her out into the sunlight, Blanche felt nauseous. The air was fresh and cool, but the light bothered her greatly and the combination of the sensations made her vomit. Dana was annoyed by it.

  The man defended her. “Come on. You’re the sheriff in a biker town. I know we are pretty straight as far as that goes, but it’s not like you haven’t had someone puke on you before. It’s not her fault. She is ill. Come on, Dana. She’s just a little bitty thang. Word is she is sorry. How old you figure she is? She can’t be over twenty-five.”

  In her utter agony, the man’s question jarred her memory. Blanche Herrera. She was an assassin for Norte Mexicali. And she had super sweet, innocent looks that were her weapon. They made people trust her enough to get way too close until it was way too late. That’s who she was. That’s why Dana was so mad at her. She must have hurt his cousin…Kevin or whatever his name was.

  The recollection that she was an assassin seemed to fortify her. She felt herself fill will a sense of power. Her injury didn’t seem as significant, like she could ignore it if she had to, at least for the moment. She was no longer the pliant victim at Dana’s mercy and, in fact, felt like getting even with him for his treatment of her. She may be weak, but she had the element of surprise on her side. And boy would he be surprised.

  Blanche sat in the back while Dana and the man drove and rode shotgun. The adrenalin of knowing who she was and what she was going to do made her sit up straight instead of resting her body against the seat like she would have done before her memory came back. Well partially, anyway. It was a mistake she found, because weakness rolled across her and she had to close her eyes, nearly in sleep mode. She was not really well enough to make this trip, but it wasn’t too far away. She vomited again. Dana cursed again.

&
nbsp; “Chill, man,” the guy counseled.

  “She just left DNA all over my car,” Dana freaked.

  “Yeah. People do that. It will be okay. We just had a momentary lapse; we will get through this. Just get her to the hospital.”

  “I feel like I am driving a crowning pregnant woman.” Dana retorted.

  “You’re too much, man,” the man said.

  The car pulled into the emergency room lot. There was some back and forth about cameras. Dana was still the sheriff of Gold Creek and he didn’t want to get caught dumping Blanche, so the man pulled his shirt up over his head and guided her to the curb. He made her lay down on the cement so that someone would come and get her. The car sped away. The cement was so warm. Blanche slept.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN