“His compound is guarded. We’re talking about a business worth millions.” The VP seems to be musing aloud. “Not sure how successful we’d be if we tried to attack. We couldn’t ensure Beth wouldn’t be right in the firing line, or that he’d shoot her himself.”
“Our ace is that neither she, nor he, knows she’s important to us.”
“In which case, Prez,” Wills speaks up, “he might think we’re sitting on our hands and laughing, with his cool million sitting in the bank. What’s to stop him coming for us and taking it?”
If that’s the way Phil’s thinking of playing it, Beth has no value as an exchange. The chills that assailed me earlier return with a vengeance. “We’ve got to move fast, Prez,” I plead.
“Bring the fight here, to the compound.”
Everyone looks at Bomber as though he’s gone mad.
Demon groans. “We’ve not long fixed the place up after the Mafia hit.” His head drops into his hands, then he looks up. “But fuck me, I think you’ve got the makings of a good suggestion.” His fingers rap on the table. “I don’t want the fight here, but if we’re going to meet Phil, we’ll do it on our home ground. I’ll call him, tell him we’ve got his shit and want the girl back.”
“Think he’ll bring her?” Sounds too fucking easy to me.
Prez focuses on me. “Hear me out, Ink. We’ll attack this two ways. One, the bulk of us will remain here to protect the compound. If Phil brings your ol’ lady, all to the good. If he doesn’t…”
Despite his warning, I open my mouth.
“Shut the fuck up!” Demon roars before I get a word out. Then, when he sees I’m sulking but silent, he continues, “We’ll act like we don’t give a damn about her, just didn’t want a fight we couldn’t win.” Now he has to glare at everyone else who are contradicting him. “Christ! Will you let me fuckin’ finish?” His eyes seem to grow darker. “Bringing him here draws his attention away from his compound. Ink, Pal and…” he looks around, “Cad will go to Denver. If, as Connor has suggested, he might have other plans for Beth and leaves her there, well, you’ll be in place to launch a surprise attack and get Beth out.”
My sulk disappears, and I grin. I like that plan.
“Prefer Ink here,” says Mace.
Pyro shakes his head, and points to me. “Apart from me, Ink is the best with explosives. He needs to go to Denver if I’m staying here. Phil’s bound to bring his best men with him, that’s what I’d do, but he won’t leave his base unguarded. Best way to rescue a hostage is to cause a distraction. My go-to would be an incendiary bomb at the opposite side of the building from where Beth’s being held.”
“How the fuck will we know where she is?” Christ, there’s a fuckload of holes in his plan.
Pal says flatly, as if he’s explaining to a kid, “We’ll know that from the drone.”
Oh. That part now falls into place. But something else worries me. “Hang on, what are you thinking, Prez? You’re seriously going to give him his H? I thought we wanted that shit destroyed, not sold.”
Beef taps the side of his nose. “Got a plan for that, Brother. Don’t forget, even if we give him his Horse, he’ll still want to hit us where it hurts. Taking it in the first place shows disrespect, and he won’t allow that to stand. But my guess is we’ll avoid a fight until after he got what he came for. He’ll be back to take us out.”
Hellfire’s raising and dipping his head in agreement. “He’ll have a million dollars’ worth of shit on him, he won’t risk a fight until he’s got that locked down. I’d bet once he’s got what he came for, he’ll leave town. For now.”
It sounds like the plan does give me a chance of having my old lady back in my arms. Either she’ll be brought to the compound, or I’ll rescue her myself. Then I’ll make plans how to kill Phil on my own if no one else is going to do it.
Demon raps the table. “Decision made. You’ll need daylight to get the best from the drone, so we’ll do this tomorrow. Ink, can it. I know what you’re going to say, but if we don’t do this properly, we’ll fail.”
I hate the thought that Beth will stay with her cunt of a father one more second than necessary. But Demon’s right. There’s a lot at risk, possession of the H being the least of it. We’re risking our home and our lives.
“So, Ink, Cad and Pal know what they’re doing. Now onto the rest of us.” Prez pinches his nose. “We need him to come and leave peacefully. I hear what you say, but how about we negate the risk and head off a fight?”
“How?” Rusty asks what we’re all thinking.
“He won’t expect us to simply hand it over because we’re intimidated, even he must know Satan’s Devils don’t roll that way. But if there’s something in it for us, it will allay his suspicions. We give him his H and we offer him our premises to deal in. For a sum to be agreed, of course.”
A thunderous roar goes around. Fuck noes, and nevers come from all sides. But Beef’s chuckling, and Prez is joining in. My eyes narrow suspiciously.
Pyro’s seems to have cottoned on quick as he’s staring at Beef. “What exactly is your plan, VP? I take it, it involves me?”
“Yeah.” Beef grins. “Ro, can you make up some bombs? Sacrifice some of the brown powder so if he opens them up, he won’t suspect?”
“I can do that,” says Pyro, his brow furrowing. “They’ll need to be the right size and weight and packaged the same way. Will take me some time, but I’ve got all night.”
“So, if he actually follows through, brings Beth with him, you’ll let him take his Horse and ride out of town.” Hell’s mouth is curving up.
“And then dispatch him to meet Satan in fuckin’ pieces. Once he’s out of the residential areas of course.” Bomber’s hand bangs the table in appreciation.
I like that plan. Like it a lot.
“Beef, you work on getting our snipers in position, guns readied, and traps set, in case they come in guns blazing.”
The VP jerks his chin in agreement.
“Women?” Hellfire offers. “Want Mo to have company tomorrow?”
I try to hide my grin. They need to be off the compound but doubt the ex-prez’s wife will be happy with a house full of sweet butts though she won’t mind the old ladies.
“Yeah, Hell. Thanks.”
“I can organise the whores.”
“Sure you can, Brother.” Liz winks at Judge.
Prez relaxes back into his chair. “Pal, Cad and Ink will set off first thing in the morning. We give them enough time to get into position, then I’ll give Phil a call. Tell him we’ve got his stash, and we’re offering it in exchange for Beth.”
“If I get the drone in place before you make that call, we’ll be able to see if he’s bringing her along.”
Demon nods at Pal. “We’ll keep in contact. Be useful for any info about how many men he’s bringing along so we can be prepared. Everyone know what they’re doing? Okay then, church dismissed.”
I sit for a moment while the others get up and leave. What a homecoming this has been. I’d been bored out of my head in the prison cell, worried what my future might look like, and whether I could cope behind bars.
I never dreamed anything other than Beth was safe at home. It’s been devastating to learn she’s anything but.
Have we got time? Would Phil keep her unharmed, or will she be shipped over the border tonight? If he’s no intention of handing her over, he might.
Then I’ll follow her and find her. Not letting her out of my life now. Every obstacle put between us just makes me more determined that I’m right. Beth belongs to me. Now and forever.
“You alright?”
It’s a superfluous question, I don’t even bother giving a negative reaction.
“Beth’s strong, Brother.” Mace kicks out a chair and sits beside me. “She thinks fast. Deep down she’ll know we’ll be coming for her. She’ll know Patsy will have persuaded us to help. I’m sure she will.”
“Will she?” I turn my incredulous eyes on him. “Yo
u don’t think she’s sitting there worried the fuck out of her mind as she doesn’t think anyone cares? I asked you to do one thing, Brother. I claimed Beth so you’d protect her. Instead you, what? Send untried hangarounds to babysit her. Not their fault they fucked up. No, it was your fault. You threw her to the wolves as you blamed her for putting me inside.”
“It wasn’t like that…”
“No? Tell me what it was fuckin’ like then?” I stand, pushing my chair angrily back under the table. When I turn, I raise an eyebrow at him.
Mace’s face looks shuttered, then pained as though I’ve punched him in the gut. I offer no comfort. Then he, too, stands. “You could be right. We could have done things differently. Yeah, we fucked up. But we’ll make it right, Brother. I promise you that.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Beth
“Who gave my H to the Devils?”
We’ve been at this for the past half-hour. Him firing off questions, me giving what responses I can. Inside I’m crying out for someone to save me but know that I’m on my own. I want to curl up and magically wake up at home to find this is all a bad dream, but I can’t. It’s real and I’m here.
Phil’s a strong willful man, with no empathy to appeal to. If I show weakness, I won’t have a chance. I have to act strong and stand my ground, when I’d prefer to retreat. I know my responses are annoying him, but I can’t afford to give a damn. Going head to head with him is, I’m certain, the best plan.
“Connor.”
“Connor’s fuckin’ dead.”
“I’m well aware my brother, your son is dead,” I spit back at the man who sired me. “Beaten so badly…” I choke up. “You don’t think whoever did that tortured the information out of him? That they were in league with the Devils?”
He doesn’t look upset. Which gives me the clue. “You did it, didn’t you? You hurt your son so badly he’s dead.”
“I didn’t,” he refutes.
“But you know who did.”
A sly expression comes into his face. “Yes,” he admits, as if me knowing my brother was killed with his knowledge and clearly no regret is of no consequence at all. “But I know if Alder’s men got information out of him, they’d have come to me with it.”
“Would they?” I challenge. “You told me the heroin was worth a million dollars. Wouldn’t your men like a share of that?”
The first look of distrust appears in his eyes, then he quickly recovers. “No, they would not. My men are loyal.”
“But what about Alder’s?”
“Alder and I work together.”
“So Alder’s men are your men?” He’s just admitted not only did he know about it, he was responsible for Connor’s death.
He realises it too, as the backhand across my cheek warns me. He leans in. “You’re a mouthy bitch. Problem we’ve got is that nothing coming out of your mouth is what I want to hear. You think you can catch me out? Well, I’ve got ways of making sure you tell me the truth. Ways you won’t fuckin’ like.”
“Boss? Phone call for you. Think you might want to take this.”
He nods. Then backs off. “While I’m gone, George can soften you up.” As he walks past him, he murmurs something in George’s ear.
I have absolutely no desire to find out what.
I’ve decided I’ll take the secret of the Devils’ involvement to the grave with me, not prepared to allow hurt to come to any of their members again. If I admit I used to be friends with them, he’ll know at the very least I’ll be able to describe the compound and the number of members they have, making it easier for him to take them on. I suspect no one gets away with crossing Phil Foster, and taking his drugs, in his mind, is a serious crime.
George comes over. I stand up. It forces him to look up at me, something he doesn’t appreciate doing at all.
“Sit,” he snarls.
“Make me,” I snarl back.
“Bitch.”
“Asshole.”
Okay. So we could trade insults all day.
“Oomph.” Or maybe we won’t, I can’t breathe for a second, and bend double with the pain caused by his fist to my stomach. A hand on my shoulder pushes me down, I miss the chair and land on the ground.
George’s short, but muscular body covers mine pushing me back until I lie prone. While I’m still trying to recover, he’s trapped both my hands in his and has them over my head.
I buck and kick, but he’s mad enough to lower his face to mine. His breath smells putrid.
As he tries to forcibly kiss me, I bite his lip. Hard.
“Fucking freak.” He lets go of my hands to wipe the blood, I place my thumbs in his eyes.
He grabs my wrists and pulls them out to the side, it creates enough of a gap between us that I’m able to jerk my knee up straight into his balls.
The door opens, and my father returns in time to see George groaning, curled up in a foetal position, and me with a smug smile on my face. Round one to me. I’ve surprised myself, I hadn’t known I had such fight in me. Though I may have won this one, I have no doubt there’ll be a round two. I won’t be let off that easily.
Unfortunately, my fight had reminded me of Ink, and what the difference had been. That night, while I hadn’t wanted Ink to overpower me, I hadn’t tried to seriously hurt him. With George, all bets had been off. If I’ve permanently damaged his manhood, he deserves it.
“Christ.” It seems Phil has no sympathy for his man at all. “Get to your fucking feet.” Then to me. “The Satan’s Devils want to give me my heroin back.”
I feel several emotions. Surprise, first and foremost, disgust they’ve given into his demands, then a glimmer of hope that I might soon be free. “You’re making the exchange? The drugs for me?”
He actually laughs. “I always win, Bethany, and I win big. I don’t need to use you to get my drugs back. The president of the MC has an interesting proposal for me. Money talks, my dearest daughter, money talks. You, though, mean nothing. Not to me, and not to him.”
The Devils are making a deal with my father? How could I have been so wrong about them? I don’t understand, but the brief glimpse of freedom fast disappears.
He chuckles again at the horror clearly written on my face. “Right. I’ve got some shit to collect from Pueblo. George, take her back to her room and make sure she stays there.”
“Shall I keep her amused while you’re gone?” George’s voice sounds higher than normal.
Phil’s incredulous eyes fall on his man who’s still cupping his balls. “Think you might need some time to recover,” he tells him. “No. Leave her to stew. Oh, and get her name down on the transport list, okay?”
That does not sound good.
“What transport?” I ask George as he limps up the stairs.
But the smirk he tosses at me suggests I’d rather not know.
In my room I flop onto the bed, once again fighting back tears. I’ve cried more in the last few days than I have before in my whole life, and not one tear drop has helped. Do the Devils really not care what happens to me? Are they actually going to do business with Phil? Why else would they have a proposition for him? Did the huge quantity of drugs tempt them into his line of work?
Maybe it’s a ruse.
No, I tell myself. I can’t expect knights on motorcycles to ride in to rescue me.
But what other hope have I got to hold on to?
Oh Ink, if only you were free. But even then, would he care? He told me via his lawyer our relationship was over. He hates me.
The facts are that Phil has gone to Pueblo, and sometime soon I’ll be going on some kind of transport to God knows where.
Let’s face it. No one is coming for me. I’ve only myself to rely on. Unless I can get free, I’ll have to resign myself to an uncertain and unpleasant future.
I cross to the window and look out at the freedom that’s so close, yet so unobtainable. I run my hands over the frame, it’s solid and unmoveable, and the plaster around it is firm. Looking
down I see my breakfast tray has gone, and so has the handy knife I’d forgotten to pilfer. My fingernails don’t even make a mark on the plasterwork. All I do is break them, though I try until I make them bleed.
Giving up, I stare out across the grounds and out toward the wall of the compound. If I could get out, I could cover the distance in seconds.
Something glints in the sun. I lean closer to the window to take a look, tilting my head. Is that a remote-controlled plane? Are Phil’s guards playing with a toy?
I tilt my head to one side as it starts to draw closer. What the hell…? Is it a… It’s a drone. Is Phil using tech to keep an eye on me?
I jump back from the window fast. Christ, they must think I’m resourceful if they think they need to guard me from the sky. Or, I realise as I pull myself out of sight and stand with my back to the wall, they’re creeps who hope to watch me getting undressed.
Perhaps it’s not being controlled by Phil’s men. Could it be the cops? The FBI? Sounds like something they might do. And Phil’s a man they’d likely investigate. Quickly glancing around the room, I wonder if there’s a convenient paper and pen. If it’s the cops, I could write a message that I’m a prisoner, and hope they could see it. If it’s Phil, well, he already knows.
But of course, there’s nothing I can use to write on or with.
Wondering if I could mime being held against my will and whether I could get my point across, I return to the window, but the drone, or whatever it was, has gone.
Feeling I’ve lost the only chance I might have had, I turn my back.
Boom!
Christ? What the hell was that? Automatically I’ve dropped to the floor, hunched over and put my hands protectively over my head. Was that an explosion? Before I can answer my mental question, fire alarms are going off all over the house. Footsteps run past my door but don’t stop.
“Hey!” I run to the door and try and turn the knob. It’s locked, of course.
Is it my imagination, or do I already smell smoke?
Hell, have they left me here to burn to death?
Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6 Page 73