Then his hand rises and comes down to my face, slapping me hard. As I lie stunned, he shifts and frees himself. Then he’s back, ripping apart the panties I’d worn to entice Demon on our wedding day.
“Don’t do this!” I cry.
He laughs, then sneers into my ear, a parody of sweet nothings by a lover, “I love it when a woman begs…”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Demon
I’m not at my best waiting for news. My mood, my anger and fear, deepen every hour that passes. Roberto’s been keeping in touch. The worst of it is, we have tabs on Angel now and we can’t touch him. Not being able to bring him back and have Mace torture information from him is taxing.
The capos managed to get Angel to a meeting, but after that he returned to his home, no diversions along the way. I’ve been informed he wouldn’t have Violet at his house—Roberto’s assured me it’s impossible. One of the trusted capo’s men’s women is Angel’s housekeeper, and she’s managed to discreetly search high and low and confirm there’s been no woman brought there. I hadn’t expected it would be that easy, it’s too obvious a place, but it had been good to get confirmation.
But we have a plan. Knowing where he is is good, but it’s where he’ll be going that’s most interesting. I have Ink and Pyro sitting outside his house waiting for him to make a move, but so far, he seems to have settled in for the night. Celebrating the death of his father? Grieving, perhaps? Whatever, it’s now three in the morning, and my last report was the house is cloaked in darkness. Angel, it appears, has gone to bed. Which is where most people would be.
My hands itch to drag him out and question him. But there’s a risk Roberto and Lucio were right. If Angel doesn’t return to where he’s stashed Violet, she could disappear. Too many women go missing never to be found again for me to risk it. One thing the Mafia does well is traffic people.
At least if Angel isn’t with her, she’s not being molested. For now.
The clubhouse is a mixture of activity and quiet. Some, dead on their feet, are giving in and taking the chance of a couple of hours rest. Hellfire and I, the other presidents and VPs, are all awake, surviving on nervous energy. I’m pleased to have such support around me, but it doesn’t ease the choking feeling around my throat, or the dread in my gut. Forget her. You’ll never see her again.
“Put it down, brother.” Drummer points to the tattered note I’m reading for the umpteenth time. “We’re going to find her. Soon as he makes a move, we’ll be following.”
“How’s Snatcher?” I change the subject.
“Rusty, your medic guy, is with him. Thinks it is a concussion, but he seems to be a bit brighter now he’s had a rest. Snatch is complaining about his bike being in the shop.”
A sign he is feeling better, perhaps.
“Pyro called,” I tell him.
“Anything?”
“If there was, do you think I’d still be fuckin’ sittin’ here?”
Drummer’s eyes flare and my mouth snaps shut. I’ve heard it called his death stare, and now I know the reason.
“Nah. No movement. Seems the Mafia have sent a few of their men, too,” I hurriedly start filling him in. “They went prepared with flasks of coffee, and they’re fuckin’ sharing it with my crew.”
Luckily that causes Drummer’s expression to change as his lips curve upwards. “There’s a joke in there somewhere. The MC and the Mafia sharin’ fuckin’ java.” Now his face softens. “How’s the kid doing?”
“Okay. He’s in with Mo and Hell. He’s been a bit tearful, Mo said. Don’t know if it’s because he’s missing his mom, or whether it’s a tooth coming through.” When we’d returned to the clubhouse earlier, I’d put my head around the door and watched him for a moment. He’d been squirming a little restlessly while he slept. I’d made him a silent promise that I hope to fuck I can keep: I’ll bring your mom home, Son.
“Your kid’s young enough he probably doesn’t care too much what’s going on as long as he’s kept comfortable and fed.”
Drummer’s probably right. Hell, he has two kids of his own. He’ll know much better than I do. What do I know about raising a son?
Son. My son. The boy I’ll protect with my life. Observing him sleep, I suddenly knew why it had been easy for Hellfire to step into the role of my dad. It’s not where they come from, it’s the life you can give them, that will determine the person they’ll grow into. I’m not a throwback to my sperm donor, I’m the man Hell taught and helped shape. I know for myself there’s no point waiting for signs that Theo will bear any behavioural resemblance to his sperm donor. I’d had those worries myself. When I’d learned my true heritage, I examined my beliefs, my morals, and realised there was nothing of Blackie in me. I was more like Hellfire.
I don’t think I’m a bad man, but whoever I am, I can do better. I will. To set an example to Theo.
I’ll bring your mom back, I silently promise again. I have to. Else I’ll be bringing up Theo on my own.
Three-thirty AM. If he’s not moved by now, I doubt he will. He’s bedded down until morning.
I drowse, on and off, on the couch in the clubroom, ready to leap into action the moment we get any news.
First thing in the morning I get a call on my phone, I’ve barely had time to say my name when the screen shows another’s trying to reach me.
“He’s movin’,” Pyro says. “During the night we managed to get trackers on all his vehicles. We’ll follow to make sure he doesn’t swap cars somewhere but will hang back out of sight.”
I end the call. There’s no need for me to say anything more. I’ll only hold Pyro up. I answer the other call.
“Demon.”
The don’s velvety Italian tone reaches my ears. “Lucio. He’s…”
“Movin’. I heard.”
“My men are following.” Christ. He’s going to be leading a fuckin’ circus at this rate. “I’ll be going to wherever he is.”
The best way is to do this together. “I’ll meet you there,” I tell the don.
Replacing my phone in my cut, I check my gun and take more ammunition out of my drawer. Then I go out into the clubroom. Smells of breakfast cooking are coming from the kitchen, but I couldn’t face food. We’re so close to getting to Vi now I can almost taste victory, and I anticipate the flavour of that will be far more satisfying than bacon.
I’m not surprised to find most of my men already awake and alert; news of the phone call had spread like wildfire. I whistle to get their attention. As soon as I tell them to get ready to be on the move, they are all checking guns and ammunition in preparation.
“We can’t all go, Prez.”
“Know that, VP.”
Thunder flinches. “Said that wearing my sergeant-at-arms hat,” he grumbles.
I whistle again. “Hold up.” I wait until I have everyone’s attention. “I need a prospect with a cage.” Just in case Violet’s not up to riding behind me. I frown, hating the thought she might be hurt but needing to be prepared for it. “I’ll take five other men with me. But the rest have to stay here. There’s still a chance Angel has something planned for the compound.”
Drummer and Red step forward. “We’ll come.”
“Bomber and Rusty.” They nod back when I call their names. We don’t know what we’re heading into and another sniper could come in handy. There’s also a good reason why the older red-haired biker might come in handy, though I hate to even think, other than he’s coming along as a spotter for Bomb. He also doubles as our medic.
“Mace.” The enforcer nods.
“Me, Prez?”
“No. Thunder. You stay here. And wear both your fuckin’ hats.”
I suppose I deserve the finger sent my way.
Eyeing the rest of my crew, I consider who else I’ll be taking. As far as we know Angel has two capos loyal to him. That means he could have twenty men, maybe more, their decinas sometimes don’t limit themselves to ten. The don will also have the same information. Deciding t
o pick a few more, I start calling out names. “Liz.” He’s an obvious choice given his experience, Ink, of course, will already be there with Pyro. “Sparky.” He always tops everyone’s score at target practice, and his injury yesterday wasn’t much more than a graze. “Pal and Skull,” I finish up. Time to see what the youngsters are made of.
“Prez…”
“Nah, Hell, Buzz,” I address the two men who’ve spoken simultaneously. “Need you here.”
My phone pings, giving a location. I don’t need to say a thing. All the men coming with me are already moving, Red’s moved fast and is out the door. I’m checking the coordinates as I go to the bike, picturing the location. Yeah, I know roughly where we’re heading toward, or at least, the turn we’ll need to take.
I indicate I’ll take point, and get into position, Drummer and Red settling behind me, the rest falling into place behind. Then as the sound of exhausts starts rattling the windows, the eight of us ride out through the gates Wills has already opened, followed by Dan driving the truck.
Forty minutes later and my memory of the turn-off is all that I needed. Little more than a mile up there are cars and alongside, Ink and Pyro’s bikes. It’s Pyro who’s waiting for me. “Ink’s gone up on foot. Someone’s used this place as a base to restore cars at some point. There’s a residence attached next to a shop.”
“Any sign of Violet?”
Pyro shakes his head. “Nah, but we reckon we’re in the right place.”
Lucio comes over. Without wasting time on greetings, he gets straight down to business. “We’ve been discussing this along the way. I suggest we surround the house.”
“I don’t want bullets flying.” I want Vi safe, not riddled with holes.
“Understand your concern for your wife. There’s no sign she’s here,” he confirms what Pyro says, “and no sign she’s not. But if she isn’t, Angel must be left alive to talk.”
But not for much longer. I nod.
“Your proposal?” I’m confident he has one from his manner.
“You, I, and some of my men approach the front door. I will take the lead, you will remain out of sight. I would suggest you remove your cut.”
My teeth grind. Not something I want to do but wearing it will make me an immediate target. Again, I raise and lower my head.
“I am taking the chance the men inside will be surprised to see me alive but won’t want me dead. I’m banking on Angel’s deviousness in trying to set me up. If he had his men behind him, he would simply have executed me himself.”
What he says makes sense.
“Angel must know his plan failed, immediately he sees you.”
He grimaces. “He will. So that’s who my men will be taking down. With me there, I think Capo Ferri and Capo Sanna won’t dare show their support for him. I don’t see this as anyone’s except Angel’s coup.” He looks down, then back up. “If I’m wrong, then your men and mine surrounding the building will be alerted by the shots. That will be the sign for them to make their attack.” His eyes hold mine. “I’m suggesting you come with us to search for your woman. If you want to hold back…”
“Fuck no,” I breathe out. “I’m one of the first inside.”
He gives a quick grin. “I did not expect you would leave me to go in alone.”
“We’re wasting time.” I want this over and done with. Angel is in there with my woman.
“My men are being briefed now. I suggest you do the same with your own. Five minutes for them to get into position. As soon as they are, we’ll go inside.”
I explain the plan. Drummer’s eyes narrow when he sees me remove my cut, but Lucio’s right. The men inside will be astounded seeing their don alive when they’d heard he was dead, and we’ll be taking advantage of that surprise. But if they saw my cut, they might fire first and ask questions after. With the size of the family I’m banking on that they don’t know every man under every capo, and with my colouring, I could easily pass for being Italian, especially with my deep summer tan.
With back slaps, fist bumps and demands to fucking take care, I watch my men, Drummer and Red move with the don’s men to take up their positions. I can see Mace is particularly twitchy, knowing my enforcer would prefer to have my back. After a quick word with Capo Fabbri, Rusty and Bomber set themselves up hidden by bushes in front of the house.
“Anything?”
Rusty has his high-strength binoculars trained on the building in front of us. Without taking his eyes away from his target, he shakes his head. “Fucking curtains are pulled, Prez, on the upstairs windows. Can see men inside moving around. Hard to tell how many. Half-a-dozen, probably more. But no woman.”
Then the don comes alongside. He points me to the limousine he presumably arrived in. “We drive up. It will be expected.”
Angel will have warning. A buzz of nervousness settles inside me. All this hangs on Lucio being right, and that he’ll be greeted enthusiastically and not killed on sight. For a second I appreciate how brave he is to take the chance and not send another man in his place, but then realise he’ll be losing a son today, hell, has lost him already. He doesn’t have much left.
It’s not that much different to being prez of an MC. If the positions were reversed, there’d be no doubt I’d walk inside ahead of my men. Much like Red and Drummer being here with me today, Snatcher would have come along as well, had he not taken such a bang to his head. We’d never ask our men to do anything we wouldn’t.
Six men, including myself and Lucio, get into the limousine, two up front. Another five squeeze into the second car. The atmosphere in the limo could be cut with a knife, no one speaking as we drive up. Not a muscle twitches, but no one can deny there’s a chance both cars could be riddled with bullets even before the brake is applied.
The car’s engines have summoned life. I see bodies in both front windows, and the front door opens. Angel is not in sight, but three of his men step out. They are all carrying rifles which point toward us.
Brave man that he is, with a deep breath, a handkerchief appears to wipe sweat off his brow, then Lucio tucks it back into his pocket, nods at us, opens the door, and is the first out. Split seconds later, the limousine empties, and he’s surrounded by his men. Capos Fabbri and Salvaggi are with him.
I hang back, but close enough to see jaws dropping. One man falls to the ground, his hands over his head. When he looks up, his eyes are glistening. His mouth works, but he seems incapable of speech.
“We heard you were dead,” another says.
“You did?” Lucio sounds surprised. He holds his arms out to his sides. “As you can see, I am not.” He takes a decisive step forward; as he passes, he rests his hand momentarily on the kneeling man’s head. “I am here to meet with Angelino.”
As he’s been speaking, we’ve closed the gap to the door. I let out a breath as I see rifles being slung back over shoulders. I’d rather see them disarmed, but that will have to wait. Lucio steps inside unimpeded, we crowd in behind him. Out of the corner of my eye I see Lucio’s men using the confusion to subtlety herd those that had been here with Angel together and surround them.
“Capo Ferri,” Lucio raises his chin toward the man who had first spoken. “Where is Capo Sanna?”
While I want to scream ‘Where is Angelino?’, I appreciate the don’s concern. We don’t want to be surprised by another captain and his men.
Ferri shifts awkwardly.
“I asked you a question,” Lucio insists. Then, when he gets a mumbled reply, he asks for it to be repeated.
“Angelino said he was a traitor. He’s dead.”
Beside me, Lucio stiffens. I take it that’s how Angelino deals with a man who won’t go along with his plans. “And where is my son?” the don asks.
The capo’s eyes flick to the stairs. At that moment, I hear a woman’s scream. It’s Violet.
Lucio’s arm shoots out and holds me back as the capo says nervously, with another glance upward, “I’ll go get him.”
“No
worries. I’ll find him.” Lucio looks around, nodding at Salvaggi and another man, and finally, with no emphasis, at me.
The men who’d already been here seem lost and confused as Lucio leads the way casually to the stairs. They’re awed in the presence of their don, who is miraculously alive, but must sense this isn’t the way things were supposed to play out. I can’t forget they know very well what they are doing here, that in that room above, Angel is hurting a woman who’s not here out of choice.
Or is it all in a day’s work for the Mafia? I can’t rule that out.
With my back decidedly itching, I follow Lucio up the stairs. There are only a couple of rooms here, one with the door shut, sounds of protest and a struggle the other side of it. I brace myself to kick it in.
Lucio turns the handle. It opens.
I don’t hesitate. My woman is pressed down over the couch, her dress hoisted up, her legs naked. Angel is leaning over her… I tear him away. My fist to his face, then his stomach, then, almost in the same action I turn and pull Violet’s dress down, not wanting her bared ass shown to these men. Seeing Angel’s being dealt with, I’m now the one crowding her, leaning over her, letting her feel the warmth of my body, and soothing her fast.
“It’s me, Vi. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Gently, not knowing whether she’s hurt or how badly, I put my arms around her to pull her up straight.
Instead of relaxing, she tenses up further. Christ. What has that bastard done to her? Was I too late?
“Theo…” As she stammers his name out, I reassure her. “He’s fine. He’s back at the compound…”
“Angelino’s men are going to attack. They’re going to blow it up. He’s already arranged it, D, Theo…”
Satan's Devils MC Colorado Boxset 1 Books 1 - 3 Page 66