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

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Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6 Page 83

by Mellett, Manda


  While I’m filling with disgust, she’s staring at me. Her head coming up as she seems to read what I’m thinking.

  “I’m his wife,” she insists. “He’s never divorced me, and I haven’t divorced him. I can prove who I am, and what I am to him.”

  “Prove it, then,” I challenge.

  Chapter Five

  Vanna

  I suppose I should have expected I’d not be able to walk straight into the MC’s clubhouse and demand to see my errant husband, but my hastily devised plan hadn’t involved much more than trying to find Cas’s father. At my wit’s end, I didn’t know what else to do.

  Lindy had offered to have Cas with her this evening. By now she’ll have collected him from school and probably fed him all the types of junk food he likes eating, but as a good Mom, I restrict access too. Then she’ll get him playing on her Xbox and he’ll be having fun. He likes Lindy, sometimes I think a lot more than he likes me, which left me free to drive down from Denver.

  Now that I’m here, I’m not giving up without at least getting the chance to talk to the man I’m still legally tied to, and who the law says is bound to me.

  Prove it, he’d said. The man who’s confronting me hasn’t introduced himself, and neither has the one refusing to open the gate. But I can read, and the name on his cut says Mace, and under that there’s a patch saying he’s the enforcer. I’ve no idea what that means, but deduce he probably enforces the rules. Right now, he’s protecting Lizard from me. I actually feel a warmth that Lizard has such support, but the main emotion is anger that he’s preventing me from seeing my husband, and that, in turn, is doing nothing to help Cas.

  Delving into my bag, I pull out a crumpled piece of paper and unfold it. Then, I show him the marriage certificate, unwilling to completely let it leave my hand.

  “You know him as Lizard,” I explain, “but his legal name is Norton James. And that’s proof he married me.”

  “I know what my fuckin’ brother’s citizen name is,” Mace snarls. “This could be a fake.”

  My eyes widen. “Well the original in the courthouse in San Diego will prove it’s not.”

  “We’ll be checking,” he warns me. “But for now I don’t fuckin’ believe you.”

  Enraged I turn, pull up my jacket and ease my pants down a fraction. I don’t show him all of the tattoo—well, Lizard was the last and only man, except for my doctor, who’s seen all of my ass. But it’s enough for him to read, “Lizard.”

  “That’s not a property patch,” he sneers. But I can see by the way his eyes have widened that the tattoo’s registered with him. He tries to dismiss it. “Our tats read ‘Property of’.”

  “Lizard was Lizard well before he joined your club,” I tell him, wondering why I’ve the need to justify myself. “As you’d know if you really did know him. He got his name not long after he joined the Marines and preferred it to Norton. Lizard has been Lizard to me since we met.”

  He almost flinches as I give him the explanation he must recognise. But still he hesitates, gesturing again at the paperwork and checking the date on the certificate. “You’re telling me you married just after he enlisted?”

  I nod. “I met him when he returned from his first tour.” I feel my eyes glaze as I remember those happy days. “When he came back from his second, we got married.”

  “How did he get his name?” Mace snaps.

  “He could remain still like a lizard basking, then go from being a statue to moving fast and pouncing.” It was lame, but most of them had picked up nicknames for barely any reason.

  It’s at that moment I hear the sound of a motorcycle coming up the road. Mace’s face tightens, then he says, “Well, I guess you’re going to get the chance to see your old man, if he really is that to you.”

  My gut clenches, realising the enforcer’s somehow recognised the sound of Lizard’s bike. My hands sweat and my body starts shaking. Don’t expect much, I tell myself. Or better, don’t expect anything. Nothing may have changed.

  But it’s been years since I’ve seen him, and I’m here out of desperation and hope that something has.

  The bike draws closer, then slows, then pulls over and the engine stops. I get my first look at the man who the years have treated kindly. To my eyes, he’s more handsome than ever before. His hair has grown longer, and I like that change.

  As I’m drinking him in, studying him intently, he gives me no more than a quick glance before turning to Mace.

  “What’s going on? Why is this car blocking the entrance?” At last his eyes land on me, leering as he regards me from head to toe, then with a knowing smirk he turns back to his friend. “Who’s the bitch?”

  My heart breaks all over again as I hastily take back possession of the document that proves he’s my husband and push it into my bag. When Mace’s eyes catch mine, I give a violent shake of my head and send him a pleading look with my eyes. Luckily, Lizard’s attention is on the other man and not me. Don’t confront him, I try to signal. It doesn’t work. I’ve tried before with disastrous results.

  Mace’s eyes narrow, and a thoughtful expression comes over his face. “Nothing to bother you, Lizard.” I let out the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. “She’s someone I want to talk to.” He turns to the man who’s on gate duty. “Open up, Dirt. Liz, you get on in. And you,” his intense stare comes back to me, “you drive inside and park. We’re going to have a conversation.”

  It doesn’t sound like a conversation I’m going to like. Could I make a run for it? For a moment I think about jumping into my car and getting the hell out of Dodge. But if I leave now, I’ve again given up. Cas needs guidance, and who better than his father? A father who doesn’t recognise his son’s mother, and has, for so long, refused to acknowledge his son.

  I can’t leave.

  It’s clear Mace thinks I’m lying and wants to know why I’m here, and what I expect to get from hounding a man who has so clearly shown he doesn’t recognise me at all. In fact, after one curious glance as though wondering what Mace wants with me, as soon as the gate is opened, Lizard gets back on his bike, starts it, and drives through and onto their compound.

  “You.” Mace is regarding me sternly, without an ounce of sympathy on his face. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “I’m happy to tell you everything.” My eyes go back to my man, who’s now backing his bike expertly into a parking space. “But I’ll have to get back to Denver to collect my son later. My friend’s only got him until ten. It’s his bedtime…” I stop, realising I’m rambling.

  “If you tell me what game you’re playing, I’ll make sure you leave in time to get your son.” It’s a threat and a promise. If I don’t answer to his satisfaction, they’ll, what? Keep me here against my will? Surely not. But whatever risk there is, it’s negated by me seizing this one chance to get back my man. Maybe not as a husband, but at least, as my son’s father.

  “I’ll tell you everything,” I repeat. “There’s no reason and nothing to gain from me telling you lies.”

  “Dirt. Drive her car inside.”

  I’d left the keys in the ignition, so when the prospect does what Mace demands, I’ve no option but to walk through those gates as he goes to his bike. But I wouldn’t run anyway. I’ve already decided that’s not an option for me.

  I catch up with Mace after he’s copied Lizard’s actions and manoeuvred his bike into a spot left vacant. Idly I wonder whether they have assigned parking spaces, and whether it’s because he’s the enforcer that his is closer to the main door. Not the closest, but about fourth in line. Then I realise, it really doesn’t matter whether or not that’s the case.

  “Come.” Mace stands back and indicates I should precede him inside.

  I enter what is obviously a clubroom. The air’s tinged with cigarette smoke and beer, and men are standing around with drinks in their hands. I notice it’s pleasantly painted and there are matching sofas, tables and chairs. My eyes spot Lizard and I turn away quickly,
having spied a woman he’s got his arm draped around.

  Oh no. I bang the heel of my hand against my forehead. Of course he’s moved on and has someone else. Deep down I’d acknowledged it as a possibility, but being faced with it hurts, really, really hurts. I’d stayed lost in the past while Lizard has found someone else. Why should he have waited when he couldn’t remember he had a wife? My steps falter as I reconsider my decision to come to the club. Can I deal with the pain of seeing Lizard with another woman? Gritting my teeth, I remind myself I didn’t come here for me, I came here for my son.

  That he’s with someone new shouldn’t stop him stepping up and being a father to Cas. Maybe Cas will get on with his stepmother? Maybe she would get through to him more than I can. But looking back, my eyes narrow. The woman with her arm around my husband looks more like a hooker. Is she really someone I’d want to spend time around my son?

  “Move.” The snapped instruction gets my feet moving, then I pause, wondering where I should be headed. Mace waves his arm. “This way.” Now he’s in the lead, and trailing in his footsteps, I’m led across the clubroom and down a short hallway.

  Raising his hand, Mace raps on a door.

  “Enter.”

  “Wait here,” Mace instructs, and his eyes catch those of a man behind me and some sort of silent conversation goes on.

  Swinging around, I see another biker who’s appeared at my rear and is standing with folded arms. Guess my escape route has been blocked. Though I wasn’t going to take it, the fact I haven’t one does unnerve me. But as well as fear, I feel anger. The one man here who should have my back doesn’t acknowledge me. Not for the first time, I’m reminded of a saying Lizard used to use. It describes our situation exactly, FUBAR. We are certainly fucked up beyond all recognition.

  Time ticks past, and I wait. I take out my phone to check the time, my guard growls, and I put it away. Six-thirty. I’ve a two-hour drive ahead of me and need to leave at the latest in an hour and a half, if I’m to make it back to Lindy’s.

  Christ, I wish they’d hurry up.

  Five minutes later, and at last the door opens.

  “Come in.” Mace’s voice is no less stern than it was.

  There’s a man sitting in front of the desk and another behind it whose dark unwelcoming eyes glare at me. “Heard you’re here to cause trouble for our brother.”

  “No, I’m not.” Well I am, of a sort. Cas could certainly fit the definition of trouble. I hate that they’re not introducing themselves, and there’s no name plate on the desk to give me an indication. “Sorry, you are…?”

  “Demon, President of the Satan’s Devils MC. Next to you is Beef, our VP, and you’ve already met Mace.” He sprints through the niceties. “Let’s cut to the chase, what do you want?”

  I wonder where to start, and whether I should first appeal to his better nature. “Have you got children?”

  He’s surprised by my question, but pride makes him answer. “A son, yes.”

  “How old?”

  Again, a parent’s automatic response, “Eighteen months.”

  I give a quick smile. “A nice age. Mine’s fourteen and he’s not such a bundle of fun.”

  “Enough about fuckin’ kids, what are you here for?” Mace snarls out behind me.

  “I know you’re going to question every word coming out of my mouth,” I begin, “so I’m going to ask that you hear me out without interrupting. I need to get back to my son, and this will take forever if you refute everything I’m telling you.”

  Demon stares at me for a moment, then gives a sharp nod of his head. “We’ll play it your way. For now.”

  “The reason why I’m here is that I’ve stayed faithful to my husband, Lizard. I’ve not wanted another man, well, maybe I have needs, but I’ve a son to raise, and my focus has been on him. I’ve tried to do everything right, but Cas is… difficult. My father is dead, I have no brothers, or sisters come to that. No family at all really, since my mother and I fell out. No, I’m not looking for sympathy, but my son needs help. Cas has no male figure in his life, and I think now he needs one.” I hold up my hand and turn around fast as I hear Mace’s intake of breath. “Cas is pushing boundaries. First it was mischief, what all kids do. Sneaking candy without paying for it. But it’s escalated. He’s fourteen years old and last week hotwired a car. I’m doing all I can to keep him out of jail.”

  “You do realise you’re in a one-percenter club, darlin’?” I look to my left and notice Beef, their VP, has a twinkle in his eye.

  I turn back and address the president, “I’ve been a good mom, or tried to be. Yet the choices facing my son are either juvenile detention or being taken away and put into the system unless I can get him back in line. I’m at the end of my tether. So yes,” I nod at Beef, “I know what you are. But at the very least, if you break the law, you know how to hide it.”

  “We don’t break the law,” Demon snarls, his eyes seeming to flare, and he sends a warning look to the man sitting beside me.

  “Bit late to come looking for a dad for your son if you hid him all these years,” Mace snarls. I don’t even turn to look at him. “Should have thought of what might happen when you decided to keep that shit from him.”

  He’s so far off the mark, I ignore him. Not having finished, I continue now. “I hoped Lizard might have recovered, thought time might have healed him. Thought perhaps now he’d acknowledge he had a son and would step in to help him. Cas needs a man, needs someone he can look up to.”

  “Lizard didn’t even recognise you,” Mace remarks, almost spitting the words out. “You say you’re married—”

  A knock on the door causes him to stop speaking and step away from it. When he pulls it open, yet another man steps inside, this one so pale he looks like the sun never touches his skin.

  Entering, he nods at Demon. “All checks out, Prez.”

  “How did we not know this?” Demon’s hand slams down on the desktop, so loudly, it makes me jump.

  The pale man shrugs. “Before my time, Prez. Lizard joined what, ten years back when he started prospecting? I was a bit later. Buzz did the background checks before me, and probably didn’t have access to everything I have. He would have checked his service record, but seems he didn’t dig deeper.”

  Demon’s eyes burn into me. “Why didn’t Lizard recognise you?”

  Three men’s heads turn to face me.

  I take a deep breath, having already decided Cas is more important than invading my husband’s privacy and sharing what, obviously to these men, is his secret. “Because he’s got retrograde amnesia.”

  There are four audible gasps at my answer.

  “Amnesia?” Mace scoffs, being the first to recover. “That man remembers everything. Talked to him enough. Over the years I’ve heard everything about his home life, his training in boot camp, his tours, particularly the first which is the only one he wants to talk about. Of course he can’t remember the incident that got him invalided out of the service, but that’s common enough. He’d remember if he had a wife and a kid.”

  Tears fill my eyes, and my voice weakens. “Yes, there was an incident. He was standing next to a truck when it was hit by a rocket grenade and exploded. He had a brain injury, it was severe. He was in a coma, and I… I sat with him. Cas was just two years old. I prayed and prayed he’d come round. He coded a couple of times, but they managed to revive him. For weeks I sat at his bedside, refusing to give up hope. At last, one day, he opened his eyes.” I sob, loudly and then once again continue, “His first words to me were, ‘Who the fuck are you?’”

  I’m not aware I’m crying now until I get a tissue placed into my hand. I dab my eyes, blow my nose, and then thank the VP.

  “Did he get therapy?”

  “Yes.” I pull myself together and respond to Demon’s question, asked in such a level tone it helps me to pull myself together. “But it didn’t work. He remembered, as you say, growing up, joining the Marines, even his graduation ceremony. He remember
ed his first tour, then, blank. Nothing after that until he woke up in the hospital. Me? He didn’t recall. In fact, he was suspicious of me.” A sob makes me shudder, but I try to swallow it down. “When he met Cas, he didn’t believe he was his son.”

  “You split up, then?” Beef’s shaking his head. “You gave up on him and left?”

  I give him a what do you think I am? look. “No, I did not. I spoke to his therapist who suggested once he was well enough to leave the hospital, that he come home with me. The idea being that back in his home with his familiar possessions it might help his memory. But it didn’t.” I pause, lost in the past for a moment. “He couldn’t remember the house we’d moved into, could only remember living alone on base. He’d been overseas when Cas was born, came home to see him, but we didn’t have any photographs to prove it. I just hadn’t thought to take any. Pictures of Cas and me, but most without him there. I did manage to find a couple, but he couldn’t remember. He… he used to get angry, and he accused me of photoshopping them.”

  “He violent toward you?” Beef asks.

  I shake my head. “Never raised his hand toward me. He was angrier that he couldn’t remember.” My voice drops to a whisper. “He wasn’t comfortable at home, his memory wasn’t triggered by things familiar. It made him worse, he kept berating himself. Worse, he kept denying that Cas was his.” My eyes close and I draw in a loud breath. “As well as retrograde amnesia, he had short-term memory problems. Each day was a new one for him. Each day he’d wake up unable to remember what had happened the previous one. He was stuck in the past, unable to learn new things. We tried for a year and a half, and then we had an argument. He told me I wasn’t his wife, and Cas wasn’t his son. Cas was four…” My breath hitches. “He pointed at Cas and said that kid is not mine. Cas still has nightmares about the day his dad walked out.”

  “Fuck,” Mace says from behind me.

  “I think I made it worse. I was, still am, proud of his dad, and I let Cas know that. What happened to Lizard wasn’t his fault. I didn’t want Cas to feel he’d been fathered by a bad man. So I’d tell him stories. But the memory of that day is lodged in his head. He even asked when he was older, if Lizard had been such a good man, why had he left? I think he blames me, and questions himself.”

 

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