Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah

by Manda Mellett

  It makes Cat cry out immediately. “No, I’ll come!”

  Don’t. I’ll take anything if it keeps you safe.

  “Cat. No!” I try to scream, but it comes out more as a grunt.

  It’s too late for both of us. Meekly and stiffly, she drags herself to her feet and walks out without one look my way.

  If her intention was to save me from further punishment, it doesn’t work. As Cat is led out and I’m wondering whether I’ll ever see her in this life again, Gun stays behind. He uses his fists, the baseball bat and his knife. I’m more dead than alive, but still conscious as he intended when at last he steps back.

  “I’m going to take a little trip with your woman. When I get back, we’ll finish this.”

  “Don’t do this, Gun.” Somehow I get the strength to push out the words. “This isn’t you. You’re a SEAL.”

  He shakes his head. “You never knew me at all, did you? Don’t worry, I’m not letting you die. Yet. We’ve still got to have a conversation. And you will talk. You know as well as I do what I can use to encourage you.”

  He won’t. I can withstand any torture.

  But it’s a promise for the future. Now the baseball bat comes into play again.

  The world goes dark.

  25

  Swift…

  I sit back on the couch, one hand holding tight to Road’s while the other gently strokes App. It’s good to be home and to have my man back with me.

  He’d returned earlier than I, me only two hours ago. The time since, we have spent wrapped in each other’s arms. I’m feeling content and satisfied now.

  “Can’t you two keep your hands off each other?” Bolt barks a laugh as he walks past. If I had a free hand, I’d show him my finger. Just one, I don’t have the energy to move two right now. Yeah, my man’s fucked me good. And I fucked him right back.

  Road’s already updated me that as expected, his mission went without a hitch. It was mine that had proved more interesting.

  Taking a seat opposite, Cowboy asks, “So how was San Diego?”

  But the prez interrupts, “If everyone’s here we can move this into church. I was just waiting for Swift and Road to re-emerge. Bolt’s ready and waiting for the debrief.

  “Yeah, we had to wait until after you two fucked,” the man in question calls out.

  “Come on.” Road moves forward putting his weight on his feet. I let him pull me up, but don’t let go of his hand. I’ve missed him, and I’m going to make the most of being back.

  Homecoming never felt so welcoming before I had him on my side. I only let him go when we move to different ends of the table.

  Snatcher waits until everyone’s seated before banging the gavel. “I know Swift and Road have business to attend to—”

  “Think they’ve already done that, Prez.” Thor barks a laugh.

  Prez glares at his VP, turns back to the table and continues, “So this meeting will be quick. I’d just like to know how it went in San Diego.”

  Slipping into professional mode and sitting forward, I start, “You all know what Lost and his crew were up against, a particularly deviant pornography ring.”

  “Yeah, we did the leg work on that,” Honor, sparing a nod toward Duty, interrupts. “Work is still progressing to bring it all down. Feds are grateful if bemused about where the information is coming from.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that.” I give credit where credit’s due.

  “I was looking for more of your gut feel on how it was working with another club,” Snatcher clarifies.

  I purse my lips, trying to put my thoughts into words. “Better than I expected, to be honest. Oh, I got some shit at first due to the lack of a dick, but they overlooked that fast.”

  Bolt chuckles loudly. “I don’t think they now see that as a drawback,” he states, making me grin.

  I raise my chin toward him, “I kind of thought we’d have to swoop in and take over their problems. I know you told us to work with them, Prez, but I’ll be honest, I didn’t think they’d have what it takes.” I pause and glance around the table. “I have to say, I was wrong. I’d be happy to work with them in the future, and if the other chapters have half the calibre of men they have there, I’d not hesitate to do the same with them.”

  Bolt nods in confirmation. “San Diego has got some good brothers. I was impressed with their prez, and with Salem and Grumbler.”

  “Niran too,” I add to Bolt’s assessment.

  “So it was a success?” Snatcher’s mouth turns up. “May even help get Drummer off our backs. I know he’s pleased that we got their problems sorted.” His smile widens in satisfaction. “Speaking of our fearless leader, Drummer’s passed a suggestion from San Diego on. They’d like to take advantage of Swift’s knowledge and get her to set up a program for training enforcers in interrogation techniques.”

  Snorts go around the table, but I shrug.

  Rascal sits forward, rolling a joint between his thumbs and fingers. When he finishes concentrating on his task, he raises his eyes to me ignoring the glare from Snatcher. He’ll roll it here, but light it up later. “How do you feel about that, Swift? Sharing trade secrets?”

  I shrug. “I don’t mind. There’s probably a lot I can teach them.”

  “Two way?” Piston asks. “Will you learn from them?”

  I roll my eyes, thinking it’s highly unlikely. Salem was a good brother, and I know Blade from Tucson has a lethal reputation. Getting together could have benefits for us all. Mace, from Colorado is to me an unknown, as is Twister from Vegas. But I doubt whether I could learn anything from them.

  “Don’t be too sure,” Road remarks from his place down the table. “Ever scalped a man, Swift? Blade has.”

  “Yeah?” Leaning forward, my eyes land on my man. Now that sounds interesting and certainly isn’t in my repertoire.

  Road raises his chin. “Mouse taught him. It was quite an education.” He chuckles. “He had two strung up. It was one way of getting the other man talking fast.”

  “You watched?”

  “Sure. Turned my fuckin’ stomach.” Road doesn’t seem the least put out to admit that he’s squeamish.

  So there might be something for me to learn. Maybe I was wrong to dismiss them so completely. Not one to miss an opportunity to tease my man, I wink at him. “Such a sensitive soul.”

  You love me, he mouths back.

  “Fuck.” Piston rolls his eyes dramatically.

  “Could our cooperation get us off the hook with Drummer?” Pip asks seriously. “When he finds out Stormy’s back and we’ve been hiding him?”

  I raise my hand. “San Diego thinks we’ve got another week or so before we declare him out bad. I do think they accepted Stormy’s fled out of the country or is dead in a ditch. Having met us, they don’t think we’re hiding him.” I grimace. “I didn’t like lying to them.”

  “I’m starting to think that was a mistake,” Snatcher admits while rubbing at his temples. “From what Swift has said, we can trust them.”

  “But you didn’t know whether he was alive or dead,” Pip remarks. “Even now, we don’t know if he’ll ever regain consciousness.”

  “If he does, we can always say he just turned up,” Honor puts in.

  I’m about to say any lie would have to be well planned when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Unlike other chapters, since any of us could get a lead during church, we all keep our phones with us. I glance down at the screen and see it’s a call from the doctor treating the man we’re currently discussing.

  “Speak of the devil.” I turn to Snatcher. “It’s the hospital.”

  “Answer.”

  I do, not expecting much. As I’ve been away ‘on business’ for a few days, I’m expecting the doctor’s just checking in, or maybe telling me Stormy has lost the battle he’s fighting. I place my finger to my lips, then put the phone on speaker.

  “Doc?”

  “Karen?”

  “Yeah, you got her.”

  “I�
�ve got news. Jeremiah woke up. Only for a moment, but we’ve taken the ventilator out and he’s breathing on his own. It’s good news, and a sign that he might make it.”

  Snatcher points to the door.

  “I’ll come immediately. That’s great, Doc.”

  A few more pleasantries and I end the call.

  Pip starts to stand. “Mind company, Swift?”

  Not at all. I nod at him. Road’s the only one who I wouldn’t want by my side. Not if I’m trying to kid the doctor I’m a halfway caring wife.

  Pip and I waste no time. Leaving App with Road, I meet our ex-prez downstairs. He’s already got the keys to one of the club’s SUVs. I pass my cut into Igor’s safekeeping as I pass the reception desk.

  It’s only a short drive to get to the hospital. Pip doesn’t speak, and I don’t try to make conversation. Inside, my thoughts are whirling. Will now be the time I get to find out what happened to Stormy? Of course, the main thing is discovering whether there’s any danger heading toward the club. On a personal note, I’m hoping there’s not. I can’t wait for Road, App and myself to head back to our home. Staying at the club on lockdown as we’ve been for the past few weeks hasn’t been terrible, but everyone knows our business, and seem to take special note of when we’ve been fucking. While it doesn’t bother me them knowing, I’ve had enough of the leg pulling.

  I can’t ignore there’s the issue that the club hid his re-emergence from Drummer, and I, by omission, lied to the San Diego club. If Stormy’s betrayed us, maybe I should put him six feet under without anyone being the wiser. Outside of the club, no one would ever know what happened to him, and hopefully we’d retain our charter.

  Pip parks and we both get out. A beep sounds as he locks the doors, and we walk to the building I’ve had a rest from the last few days. I take the same weary path as I’ve done many times previously.

  The doctor appears to be waiting for me. He steps forward and opens the doors to ICU, allowing me and my companion inside. I start walking toward Stormy’s room when he stops me.

  “He hasn’t said anything more. He woke up, said a few odd words, then became unconscious again. But he’s no longer in a coma, it’s a natural sleep. Maybe you can talk to him, and he’ll wake again.”

  “What did he say?” Pip gets straight to the important stuff.

  The doctor smiles. “I presume he’s an animal lover. His words were, I made my cat purr.”

  What? I exchange a look with Pip. As far as I know, Stormy doesn’t have nor ever had any pets. A cat person? No, no way. I can’t see that. Stormy might be up for pussy, but not of the meowing kind.

  “Well, if he wakes, call a nurse, will you? He needs to be checked out.” The doctor, oblivious to our non-verbal interaction, pauses and meets my eyes. “This is a good sign, Karen. I’m more optimistic at last. Now there could still be brain damage, and don’t be surprised if he can’t remember the crash. Often people have amnesia after a head injury such as his, if only for the last few minutes before they were injured.”

  Another pause, and a quirk of his lips. “Or injured for the last time in his case. Oh, and if you need to inform the cops, I’d like to assess him before they come in.”

  I’d tell him outright there’ll be no cops involved if I could get away with it. Instead, I just smile.

  Finally, at last, I’m allowed to enter my husband’s room.

  The changes are both subtle and enormous, the biggest one being Stormy is breathing on his own now, steady breaths as indicated by the natural rise and fall of his chest. His face holds more colour, and his eyes twitch as though he’s dreaming. His expression suggests his dreams are not pleasant.

  I can’t but hope that they’re not. Stormy’s disappearance could have lost the club its charter, his reappearance still might. If he’s suffering, he deserves it.

  As I watch, he twitches again, and his eyelids flutter. I move closer to him, pulling up the chair I’ve sat on so many times before.

  “Stormy? Can you hear me?”

  Pip clears his throat and nods toward the monitor. Stormy’s heartbeat is increasing.

  “Stormy,” I hiss. “Wake the fuck up. You goddamn hear me, you motherfucker?”

  Pip snorts.

  It looks like he’s fighting. His eyeballs are moving left to right behind his closed lids. His mouth opens, then shuts. His Adam’s apple moves as though he’s tentatively trying to swallow.

  “Come on, man.” Pip goes around the other side. “You’ve been sleeping too long. Wake up.”

  Stormy’s chest starts to rise and fall more rapidly, his hand closest to me and not encased in a cast clenches. He appears to be fighting like crazy, and it seems natural to put my fingers around his.

  “Come on, arsehole, wake up.”

  Pip catches my eye and his mouth quirks. I shrug. There was never any love lost between us. Stormy left an arse and I have no reason to suspect he’s returned any different.

  So fast it catches me out, his eyes open. He blinks rapidly as though trying to focus. He looks down at our linked hands, before squinting up at my face.

  “Find Cat.”

  “Fuck the man. Trust him to wake up thinking of pussy.”

  I give a violent shake of my head toward Pip. That’s not the impression I got. “Is Cat a person?”

  “Cat…” Stormy’s trying hard to get the words out.

  “I’ll call a nurse,” Pip states, pressing the button. “His mouth is dry.”

  It obviously is, his lips are cracked, but Stormy doesn’t stop focusing on me. “Cat,” he tries again, blinking rapidly, “Catherine. Gun’s got her.”

  26

  Stormy…

  I can’t move. Did Gun catch me again? Am I tied down?

  I can’t fucking get my limbs to work. I start to panic, in my head I’m thrashing, but everything stays still. My ears are full of a beep beeping, so monotonous I wish it would stop.

  I’ve never felt so helpless in all my life. Maybe I’m dead. I feel dead.

  No. Stop. Think. Open your eyes.

  It’s almost as much effort as running a marathon or emerging to the surface after a long dive with no air in my lungs. I concentrate, putting all I have into it, until suddenly, my eyes are open. My brain seems to function okay. I’m in a hospital.

  My escape was a success. Swift and Pip are sitting by the bed. But that’s no fucking use unless I can talk. Unable to work up saliva, I can’t get words out of my too dry mouth.

  I’ve got to save Cat. Now. Before she’s been sold, before she disappears out of my life forever. Cat. Hang on. I’m here. I’m coming for you…

  But first I’ve got to get out of this bed, and I’m too weak to do even that.

  Machines go crazy as I struggle to speak. “Find Cat.” I don’t hear their response other than to realise they don’t understand me. “Cat,” I repeat. It’s such a struggle just to do that.

  A nurse rushes in. I allow him to check me over, only because he sponges my mouth, and gives me ice to suck, allowing me to work up some saliva. Enough, hopefully, that I’ll be able to convince Pip to get me out of here.

  At last the nurse seems satisfied with my vitals, and goes off, mumbling about fetching a doctor. Knowing I probably don’t have much time before someone else comes to prod and poke me, I struggle to sit up.

  I can’t even do that.

  Pip rolls his eyes. “You’re half dead, Stormy. Take your time.”

  Time’s not something I’ve got. My escape had worked, but how many hours ago was that? Cat needs help now. I rage inside, feeling so fucking weak and helpless. I swallow, swallow again, then with more determination form words and force them out of my mouth. “Cat. We’ve got to get to her. Get me my clothes and get me out of here.” I try to raise my legs off the bed. This time one jerks, the other doesn’t twitch.

  “Whoa, you’re not going anywhere.” Swift places her hand on my left shoulder.

  Now I’ve started, speech becomes easier. “You don’t underst
and. Look, do what you want with me later. But Gun’s got Cat, and he’s going to sell her. We’ve got to find where he’s taking her and stop him.”

  Pip and Swift exchange looks, and their expressions are neither what I’d like.

  “Cat’s an innocent. She’s got caught up in something she shouldn’t be part of. I don’t fucking know what it’s about. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to save her. Kill me after, if that’s what you want. I just need to find her. Gun took her earlier today…”

  “Stormy!” Swift barks, her fingers biting into my shoulder. “Whoever this Cat is and wherever she is now, she wasn’t taken today.”

  “She was!” I should fucking know. I was there.

  Pip’s face looms over me, bringing his features into view. His mouth twists when he tells me, “You’ve been in a coma for three fuckin’ weeks.”

  “No,” I refute. That can’t be. No way. I’d know it. No way. Cat’s only just been taken, there’s time to stop them. There must be. “No.”

  I focus on sending the right instructions from my brain to my limbs. I have some success as Swift pins me to the bed. Making a concerted effort, I push myself up with my left arm, and immediately sway, feeling dizzy.

  “Three weeks, Brother.” It’s the sympathy in Swift’s eyes, the honesty in her voice, that lets me know I’m being told the truth.

  My eyes leak, probably from weakness, but the roll of my gut is pure terror. “Three weeks?” I repeat.

  “Who’s Cat?” Pip asks.

  But I have no time to answer. The doctor appears. He’s a jovial man, or is now. Presumably he feels some success that his patient has woken up. After three fucking weeks, I suppose he’s entitled.

  “Welcome back, Mr Briggs. You caused us some worry. But you’re on the mend now. I just need to go over some things with you—”

  I cut him off. Any injuries I’ll deal with myself when they make themselves known to me. I don’t need him to catalogue them. “I want to discharge myself.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr Briggs. Or can I call you Jeremiah?” Without waiting for an answer to the question that makes my head spin, he continues, “As I’ve been telling your wife, even now you’re back with us, you’ll have a lot of recuperating to do before we can release you, and subsequently you’ll more than likely be going to rehab.”