Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6

by Mellett, Manda

  Connor’s mouth forms an O as he processes this new information and its implications.

  Beef gives him a moment, then says in a deceptively casual tone, “So tell me, why shouldn’t we kill you?”

  “Because I can help you get your man out,” Connor says fast.

  Beef’s jaw drops. “How the fuck do you think you can do that?”

  Christ, he’s a cocky little bastard. Or is he thinking he can swap information for Ink’s freedom? Not sure that would work. Not without dropping everyone, including Beth, in it.

  I wait for Connor to answer Beef’s question. He swallows a couple of times and rubs his neck. “Look, I’ll tell you everything. But first, man, can I have a beer? My throat is parched.”

  Pushing himself up, Beef lurches away from the bed and goes to the wall and starts banging his hand against it. The sight would be comical were it not that I share his frustration. Connor thinks he holds the key to getting Ink out but squeezing blood out of a stone would probably be easier than getting the words out of him.

  I go to Beef’s side. “Want me to kill him?” I ask, casually.

  Beef huffs a laugh and offers a heartfelt response, “Yeah.” Then his head shakes. “Get him his fuckin’ beer.”

  Taking out my phone, I shoot off a quick text, then turn to the man on the bed. “You okay to drink with the painkillers you’re on?” I don’t really care, I just don’t want him comatose and unable to talk.

  Connor gives me a sly look. “Can’t hurt if I’m already dead.”

  It’s hard to argue against that.

  It’s not more than a couple of minutes before there’s a knock on the door. On the other side is Karl with three bottles. Opening one, I pass the others to Beef and Connor. The latter takes a long drink, then sighs and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

  “Was a moment when I didn’t think I’d taste that again,” he says, looking almost adoringly at the bottle he’s holding.

  “Our brother might not,” Beef reminds him tersely.

  Connor shifts, clearly trying to get comfortable, I don’t offer to help. He takes another, smaller sip, swallows, then starts, “I’d lived with Mom and Beth all my life. Mom was always on at me to do well at school, to go to college and get a good job. Beth was held up as a shining example, but what did she do? Work for the government offices in town. Sounded boring as hell to me.”

  “There a point to this history lesson?” Beef asks.

  He nods. “Yeah. About six years ago I set out to find my dad. Wasn’t hard, Mom didn’t try to hide him from me. Dear Phil didn’t want the bother of raising a child, but a kid nearly grown into a man? Now that he could work with. He didn’t live a boring life, he had money, knew people. Well, it sucked me in. When I was eighteen, I moved in with him.”

  “And worked with him?”

  I lean back against the wall, content to listen and let Beef do the prompting.

  “For him, yeah. I’m tall, could do with muscling up a bit but he could use what I was.” He tries to laugh at himself, but bursts into a fit of coughing which obviously pains his broken ribs.

  It’s a few seconds before he summons up the strength to speak again. Although both the VP and I are anxious to move this along, it’s clear he’s going to go at his own pace.

  “At first, I was working in one of his clubs. Got a job as assistant manager, fuck knows why. Nepotism at its best. But I was too young to realise I was there in name only, the manager used to put me on the right track and clear up any mess I created. All I could see was at eighteen I’d stepped into a job I’d never have gotten back in Pueblo. I felt important to him, more so than I ever did with my mom.”

  “He was proud to have you as his son?”

  “Nah. We never had that kind of relationship. Anyway, stuck that out for a couple of years, then I tried flexing my muscles and fucked up. Lost him one of his best employees. That’s when I saw his other side, but hey, I deserved it.”

  “He hurt you?”

  “No. But I lost my job in the club and my rank in his organisation. I’d have done anything to get that and his respect back. And I did. I took on anything. That’s when he got me working his protection racket.”

  “You enjoyed that shit?”

  “Hell no. But hey, he was offering a service and expected to get paid.” His brow creases. “The women with kids were the worst. Hated taking whatever they had.” His face twists as he remembers. “But I still gave my dad a pass. He was a successful businessman, and for a while, I wanted to be just like him. Until I found out what else he was into.”

  “Drugs?”

  Connor nods at the VP. “Yeah. He was feeding people’s habits. Worse than that, getting them hooked in the first place. One of the things he’d do was send a man into a student party, passing around free shit. Made sure they knew where to come to when they wanted more. Cheap at first, then the price increased. I came across that by accident, heard a meeting where they planned getting into one of the parties. Start them young, I heard, then you’ve got customers for life.”

  “Did you confront him?” I ask, wondering if that’s why he’d gotten such a beating.

  “No. I wasn’t that brave. By then I’d learned what happened to people who crossed him. I kept my head down and started making my own plans to get out. Despite everything, he wasn’t paying me much, certainly not enough to break out on my own. I couldn’t go home to Mom with my tail between my legs, so I stuck it out. I think he wanted a son he could groom to take after him, but I wasn’t made of the same stuff. But I was useful, hey, I’m big and intimidating.”

  “So what fuckin’ happened, Connor? How did you end up like this?”

  “I got arrested. Went to collect a debt, neighbour called the cops. They got me on a felony assault charge.”

  Beef’s lips press together. “You said you hadn’t been inside. What did you do, make some kind of deal?”

  Connor looks at us as if to check how we’re going to take what next comes out of his mouth. “Yes. They offered one and I accepted, it was the escape route I’d been looking for. Drugs were flooding Denver. They suspected my father was playing a part in it, and that he was branching out to other towns. Letting a violent man remain free was apparently nothing compared to the bigger picture.”

  “Like Pueblo?”

  He nods.

  “Where does Alder come in?” Beef asks.

  “You know about Alder?” Connor’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t ask how. “Well Phil runs the drug trade on the ground. Alder’s the man at the top of the food chain. He organises the buys. Phil takes it from there, moves it on down. He runs the dealers and makes sure they’re supplied.”

  “Your Dad know about this?” Beef waves at Connor’s broken body.

  “Yeah.” Again, Connor’s mouth twists. “He was there when Alder ordered it.”

  Beef and I exchange glances. I signal I want to ask a question myself, and Beef steps back.

  “Why put the drugs in your mom’s house if you didn’t want to touch that shit?” I’m still trying to work out how everything adds up.

  Connor nods as though he’d expected one of us would get around to asking. “Thing is, I was getting desperate. My handler, Agent Caruso’s patience was only lasting so long. If I had nothing useful to offer, he’d take me back in, and I’d stand trial. I kept my ear to the ground, listened when I should have made myself scarce. Overheard a convo between Phil and Alder, and learned there was a load of drugs coming in. Just so happened I saw my chance and managed to intercept the delivery. Took the drugs myself.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rise with suspicion. “Why the fuck didn’t you turn the drugs in? Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do?” Connor would know the value of ten kilos of H. The answer is obvious. It was too much of a temptation.

  Connor glances at me and clearly interprets what I’m thinking. He laughs, but mirthlessly. “Believe me, I was fucking shitting myself holding onto it. But it was bad fucking ti
ming. Caruso’s off on his honeymoon for three weeks.”

  “What the…?” The VP looks incredulous. “He goes off and leaves you no other contact?”

  “He didn’t know anything was going to go down. I’d been looking for an opportunity for a few months, too long as I’d said. So while the timing didn’t work, I couldn’t not take the chance.”

  “So how did Beth get to be involved?” I really want to move this on. Things are starting to fall into place, but there’re pieces of the puzzle that don’t fit. “Phil and this Alder, they found out what you did?”

  A frown now covers his face, and he winces in real or remembered pain. “If Caruso could have taken the shit off my hands, he’d have gotten me straight out of Denver, put me in Wit Sec, just like you said. But as he’s not around, I had to wait it out. I couldn’t go to the cops with ten kilos of H, not without Caruso to back me up.” He pauses again.

  “Phil was dealing drugs, and Caruso wanted him sent down. At the time, I hadn’t known Alder was involved, only found out his role when I overheard about that shit, and that’s when Caruso was out of town. The feds had been trying to catch Phil for years, but nothing would ever stick—it’s clear now why, he couldn’t be linked with the major suppliers as Alder dealt with all that.”

  I look toward Beef. Beef raises his chin, then turns to Connor. “Alder was driving this train.”

  Connor nods. “Yeah. I thought I’d been careful, but I’d been hiding shit from the wrong man. Alder’s got contacts I didn’t know about. And the weeks when I had to hang around, trying to carry on as normal, well, that gave him the chance to find me out. I don’t know how, but he got wind I was responsible for taking his H. He grabbed me on Saturday wanting it back.” Another one of his sly looks. “I thought, hoped, I could come up with some story that would satisfy Alder, and still have something to give to Caruso to get out of that life. I managed to convince Alder the shipment was short, that there had only been two kilos. To buy me some time, yeah?”

  It’s Beef’s turn to shake his head. If Alder had done any kind of investigation, he would have easily found out the whole truth. Connor would have been a dead man, whatever he thought. Alder was only keeping him alive until he had the other eight kilos in his possession. And he’d obviously figured out where Connor had hidden them. Connor wouldn’t have split them up, they’d have been with the two kilos he’s handed over. And Beth and Patsy had had visitors as a result.

  I shake my head, Connor certainly is no mental genius.

  “Phil appeared at the warehouse. He was furious about the shipment that was short, so he had dealers with nothing to sell, and beyond mad that I’d taken it. I think he’d already had a verbal lashing from Alder. He was yelling and screaming about needing stock in Pueblo that night. He saw Alder had two men there and must have known the reason. But when Alder sent him away saying he was going to deal with this—with me…” Connor breaks off and takes as deep a breath as he can with his broken ribs. I guess it must be hard to know your father didn’t care how much he was hurt.

  After a moment, Connor resumes, “Phil left, and that’s when Alder took the gloves off his men.” To his credit, he doesn’t look proud of himself when he continues, “I thought if I came up with a way of getting what I’d admitted I’d taken, the two kilos, to his dealer, that he might go easy on me. I made the suggestion. At first, I offered to go myself, but Alder said he didn’t trust me, and wasn’t going to let me go anywhere until the drugs were with Phil’s dealer. He said I had to get them there, any fucking way I could. The only thing I could think of was to involve Beth. I’d worked out the plan with him. He’d leave me capable of using my mouth if I made the calls to persuade her. His man needed stock that night.” Connor’s lips thin, then he adds, “I think he quite liked the twisted idea of using my sister.”

  The bastard’s dead. Alder is going under.

  “But Alder found out later there was more?”

  Connor looks down, then up and provides me with the answer, “Guess I’m not so clever. There’s honour among thieves. He trusted the Mexican suppliers more than his son.”

  “So, you admitted it, and told them where you stored them.”

  He grows animated. “What the fuck type of idiot do you think I am? First, I might not get on with my mom, but I wouldn’t want to let loose the likes of Alder and Phil on her. And second, as soon as I told them, I’d be dead.”

  “Which they now think you are,” I remind him.

  A wan pained smile crosses his face. “I feel like I am.”

  “You are an idiot,” I tell him with no sympathy at all. “Once Alder knew Beth could get her hands on two kilos, when they knew there was more, they knew where it had to be stored. Men have already paid your sister and mother a visit.”

  Fucking asshole. The moment he used Beth, he sent those motherfuckers to her door.

  “They got the drugs?” This gets to Connor. “Oh, fuck, man. Are Beth and Mom okay?”

  “They’re fine,” Beef reassures him, his face grim. “But the drugs are gone. That mean you’ve lost your bargaining chip with Caruso?” Beef doesn’t let on they are in our possession, not his father’s.

  “Cops got two kilos,” Connor states slowly. “Perhaps that will be enough.” Then I swear a tear rolls from his eye. “I never wanted Beth to get into trouble. Thought she’d just hand it over and then walk away. How could I know she was walking into a trap? That your brother would swap places with her. Fuck, man,” his eyes find Beef’s, “I didn’t know.”

  Even I have to admit he looks contrite.

  “What was your plan if the drugs were still there? To offer them to Caruso?”

  “Getting that much heroin off the street would look good on his record. Yeah, I’d have bargained with that.”

  “When’s your handler back from his fuckin’ sex trip?”

  As Beef grins at my description of a vacation following wedding nuptials, Connor answers, “Saturday.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mace

  “So, there you have it,” Beef finishes his summary of the conversation with Connor.

  “He’s telling the truth?”

  “It’s plausible and fits with the evidence,” the VP reassures the prez.

  Hellfire looks thoughtful. “By now Phil will have been told his son is dead, but will he take his henchmen’s word for it? There’s no body, only a lame story about bringing him home to bury. So, we need to do something to convince him, and my suggestion is that a burial has to take place. For that we need Beth and her mom to believe it. They’ve got a funeral to arrange, and a body to put under ground.”

  “We’re going to let them believe their son and brother is dead?” Fuck. I might torture people when there’s a need, but unless I’ve finished the job, physical wounds heal or whatever scars left can be lived with. Letting women think they’re putting a family member six-feet-under? The pain will be there for life.

  Hellfire sits forward, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. “We’ve all heard what Connor said. Though he doesn’t yet know it, he’s still got, or rather we have, his bargaining chip. We’ve got the drugs. We can pass them to Caruso, and he gets, what, ten kilos in total off the street. But it doesn’t get him closer to Phil Foster, or this Alder. From what you say, Connor thinks he’s a foot soldier, hasn’t inherited the brains of his dad. But I reckon that’s what he’s been told all his life. Patsy probably thought she was right comparing him to Beth’s achievements, and Connor probably read it wrong. There’s a five-year age difference, of course she’d be getting ahead. Connor underestimates himself. He managed to intercept and take the drugs. Fuck knows how he did it. But he could have a lot of info in his head, info that would be of use to Caruso.”

  “Suppliers and routes for a start.” Demon nods. “But is it enough to get our brother out of jail?”

  Crease lines appear around Beef’s eyes. “Caruso knows Phil’s in this up to his neck, but the fed is looking in the wrong dir
ection. Alder’s the kingpin here. Ten kilos of H sounds a lot to us, but easy to replace. That shit’s flooding over the border, we all know that. Caruso might play ball if Connor gives him the man at the top.”

  Demon’s eyes snap to his VP. He looks thoughtful. “It could work,” he says. “Give him the chance to stop the trade rather than just putting a dent in it.”

  I frown. “So, we offer that up to get Ink back? But how do you get from there to a funeral?”

  “Phil and Alder are still walking free men, if they’ve got suspicions that Connor’s alive, they’ll never stop looking for him. They’re still out ten kilos, remember, and by taking it, Connor’s revealed just how much information he’s got in his head. If they believe he’s dead, Connor can start somewhere else without looking over his shoulder. And,” he holds up his hand before I can ask why the fuck we should care what happens to Connor, “they won’t try to use Ink’s woman to locate her brother.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. Though it will hurt them, believing Connor’s dead will protect Beth and Patsy.

  Demon hasn’t finished. “It also buys the feds time to set up Alder. If they think Connor’s silenced forever, they won’t think they’ve anything to worry about.”

  “Wit Sec,” Beef says. “I know all about that. It’s a fuckin’ hard option. I stood by Steph, remember, when she had to give up all contact with her friends and family.”

  Hell shrugs. “Seems to me Connor burned his bridges a long time ago. Do you think Patsy and Beth will ever really forgive him, or trust him again? Nah. He’s got to stay dead. And his mom and sister have to believe it.” Hell looks at me directly. “How well could they act if they know the truth?”