“Judge.” Demon jerks his chin toward our companion. Having schooled him, I’m pleased when Judge folds his arms over his chest and satisfies himself with a sharp nod. Muscle isn’t expected to say anything.
“Charmer.” The man with the VP badge is next to greet me. His name would give no clue to his appearance as he’s covered in battle scars with an obviously broken nose which hasn’t been set right. Maybe his character will live up to his name, though something suggests it might not.
“Bam Bam.” Again, his cut gives me a better introduction. He’s their sergeant-at-arms. Interesting they’ve brought him.
RIP catches the eye of the bartender and holds up three fingers. They’ve already got beers on the table for themselves. Seconds later beers appear for each of us. A civilian couple wander in and make as if to sit at an adjacent table. As Bam Bam scoots back his chair noisily and stands, they change their minds quickly.
Looking from his sergeant-at-arms to us, RIP leans forward. “So, what have you got for me, Demon?”
Demon gestures to me.
I don’t miss a beat. “The woman going by Stevie Nichols. I’m claiming her.”
“Jeez.” RIP rolls back his head and stares at the ceiling. “You gonna think about that for a moment?”
“Don’t need thinkin’ time.” I shrug. “Didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. I’ve come here with Demon to smooth the way. Don’t want to find an old lady just to lose her.”
“You’re out of Tucson, aren’t ya?” Charming motions his beer toward me. Something must give him his answer, as he shakes his head. “What is it with that fuckin’ chapter that you’re all about women and kids? Give me a sweet butt every time. No commitment, and she gets the job done just how you want it.”
Manly chuckles from Bam Bam, though RIP stays quiet, glaring quickly at his VP. I take it he’s got a woman himself. Not that he admits it, but he does take over the lead in the conversation. “Ms Nichols is a problem.”
“Only for the Warped Jokers,” I say quietly, mindful of keeping my voice low. “What’s your take on them, RIP?”
He seems surprised I’ve asked him a direct question. Bam Bam stops laughing, and Charmer regards his prez seriously. RIP looks from one to the other, then at Demon, finally at me and shrugs. “They’re a pain in my ass.”
I didn’t expect him to come out and say it so openly. I sit back, putting my thumbs through my belt loops. “Here’s how I see it.” I used the personal pronoun deliberately. If RIP objects to my reasoning, he’ll see it as all mine and nothing to do with the Colorado Satan’s Devils. “Warped Jokers are everything that citizens are scared of. This latest escapade, they got caught, but not before taking out a load of innocents.” Shaking my head, I continue, “Not an MC I want to be associated with: careless, greedy and incompetent.” I don’t say committing a crime is wrong in itself, leaving them to fill in the gaps that what I object to is them getting caught. Heaven knows what the Soulz get up to, rumours are quite a lot I wouldn’t want to know about. Not that we’re angels or averse to taking a life, but only those who deserve it.
“Know your prez.” RIP points his bottle at me. “Got a lot of time for the Devils. You do walk on the government side of the line but aren’t afraid to cross it when it’s needed. Soulz might move that line a little further over, but Jokers can’t even see the road anymore, let alone the marking in the middle of it.”
Now comes the hard bit. “To citizens we’re all MCs. Especially one-percenter clubs. One does wrong, we all get pulled into it. Bad news for us all.”
“You got that fuckin’ right. Reason why we’ve got to stop your woman testifying. No conviction, no stain.” He thinks for a moment. “She’s your responsibility, if you can keep her quiet—”
“That’s not what I’m sayin’.” I feel Demon tense beside me, knowing this is where I’m getting to the hard bit. “The US Marshals have got her again. I don’t know where she is to stop her testifying.”
RIP’s face gives nothing away. If that’s not news to him, he’s not showing it. Or is he thinking she’s been easy to find once, and she will be again? Just who has these contacts with a federal agent?
“RIP, what I’m sayin’ is, maybe we should throw the Jokers to the wolves. Step back from them. Denounce them. If the Wretched Soulz withdrew their charter, then they’re adrift. Sends a message to the public and feds that we’re not all tarred with the same brush.”
“Laid a lot on me there, Brother,” he responds, casually, again, no intonation to give away his thoughts.
I know when to push, and when it’s time to step back. But I think I’ve got a chance to say one more thing before over-pressing my case. “RICO is what we’re all worried about. Step away from the Jokers, disavow their activities… It strips the feds of an excuse to go after the rest of us.”
Again, RIP’s bottle is pointed toward me. “If she testifies, your woman is dead. Mad Bull’s got friends on the inside.”
“Some of those friends are Soulz.” I raise and lower my shoulders again, and from then on, keep my mouth shut.
RIP looks down at his bottle as though the low level of beer is interesting, but I don’t miss the sideways glance he gives his VP, nor can I read any of their silent conversation. The silence draws out until it becomes almost painful. I think all of us have to suppress the urge to fill it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Demon draw in a breath, but I give a miniscule shake of my head which he interprets correctly.
Finally, RIP meets my eye. “Heard good things about you, Beef. I, personally, can see the benefits in what you’re suggesting. Not up to me, of course. Up to LA. Our chapters run independently.”
It’s rumoured the Wretched Soulz have a national prez, but no one will admit to being that man. He’d only be making himself a target. As such, the chapters are thought to run autonomously with no overall control except the same binding regs. No one outside knows how much influence one has over the other. Much like the Devils though, all chapters recognise Drummer as the National Prez, in part because he’s a clever motherfucker and they do well to seek his opinion. Also, as our chapters are smaller, it helps having someone who can rally the others around should we need their support. It’s understandable RIP can’t speak for the Los Angeles’ Soulz. He may, however, be able to influence them. I can’t ask. All I can do is hope he passes on my suggestion.
“Okay,” he puts his beer bottle down empty. “I’ll have words in ears. Can’t guarantee anything. But I’ll get your suggestion heard. Chaz up to speed?”
“With this? No. But I can ask Drummer…”
“Nah. I’ll handle it.” RIP stands. Charmer and Bam Bam are only seconds behind him. “Good to meet you, Beef. And to see you again, Demon. Judge.” He raises his chin and nods at our man who’s stayed silent, standing with his arms crossed. His eyes settle on him for a moment as though committing his features to memory. Just before he moves away from the table he leans in conspiratorially, saying quietly so only we can hear. “Best start saving. Hits can be expensive.”
It’s only when they’ve gone that Judge lets his eyes open wide. Demon waves him to the table.
“Hits?” Judge asks.
I take pity on him. “If the Jokers go inside, they’ll still be gunning for Stevie. They’ll appeal their sentence, that could go on for years. If Stevie’s not around to back up her statements, they may have a chance of success. Being inside would distance them from any murder, though that wouldn’t stop them pulling the strings and getting the job done.” I grow cold at the thought. “Only way out is to take out those with any influence, the officers and ringleaders.”
“Wretched Soulz have enough people on the inside. At the moment the Jokers can rely on the Soulz for protection. If they lose their charter, it changes the dynamics.” I don’t elaborate, suspecting the man can fill in the gaps for himself.
“Christ.” Judge wipes his hand over his face and shakes his head. Just as I start wondering whether he’s going to be a good fit for this lif
e, he grins widely. “Now a permanent solution I like.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Here, boy,” I call to Max who trots over, giving wide berth to Bitch who’s watching him with wary eyes. She stands, arches her back and hisses as he passes just a little too close for her liking, but out of range of her claws. Guess they’re never going to be best buddies.
Opening the door, I lead him outside. “Get busy,” I instruct, and he does, immediately. I reward him with a ‘good boy’, and a pat, then stand for a moment, giving him a chance to sniff the weeds growing up through the cracks in the pavement. With half an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t start tracking the trail of some small animal that’s passed by, I stare around.
The outside of the clubhouse is a dismal area. The old furnace, the huge pit where they used to melt down trains, is the most interesting feature. A few picnic tables are sprinkled around, but instead of grass, they stand on old broken concrete. It’s a good size area and could be made into something attractive if its current resemblance to a demolition site was tidied up. I make a mental note to mention it to Demon. It wouldn’t take much more than a hired digger to get rid of the trip hazards and broken surface. Then we could use a rototiller to turn over the soil and lay some turf. Much safer for Stevie when she returns and wouldn’t take much more than a weekend if we all put our backs to it.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, boy?” Max, moving remarkably well on his injured leg, has returned to my side.
Why am I thinking about sprucing up the clubhouse? I won’t be here much longer. I’ll be returning to Tucson. A smile curves my lips as I think how Stevie would love the compound in Arizona. We could build a house at the top alongside the rest going up, and there’s a good safe area and a swimming pool for those inevitably hot days of summer. Nestling in the valley between the mountain ranges it’s a beautiful place. In my mind’s eye, I’m imagining describing it all to her.
How would Max get on with Grunt? Do dogs just accept each other? I glance down at Max. Somehow I suspect he’s too well trained to get into a fight. Chuckling softly, I imagine lording it over Heart when he can’t get Grunt, his oversized mongrel to obey his commands, whereas Max will do anything asked of him.
“Yeah,” I start quietly, not even embarrassed I’m talking to a dog. At my voice he’s raised his intelligent eyes and is staring into mine. “You’d love it in Tucson. A little hot, but there’s air conditioning inside. Kids who’d adore you, women who’d spoil you. Not sure Drummer would allow you into church, but then you’ll be back working, looking after Stevie…” My voice trails off.
Yeah, he’ll be back to a working dog if I can find that woman of mine. One of my fists smashes against the palm of my other hand. I am going to find you, Stevie. But will you be dead or alive? A feeling of sheer panic goes through me. Sensing my change of mood, Max whines quietly by my side. Got to think positively. I’d go crazy if I thought I’d never see her again. Is she thinking of me?
It’s all the unanswerable questions which are driving me crazy. The only thing I don’t challenge is that I’m going to make her mine. Whatever objections she has, I’ll overcome them. I’ll draw her a picture of a life she can’t turn down. With me. In Tucson.
“You’re deep in thought.”
I jump about two feet in the air, and my hand automatically goes over my heart. “Way to scare a man half to death, Brother.”
“Never thought I’d walk up on you unawares, Beef,” Paladin replies with a smirk. “You seemed to be somewhere else.”
I had been. “Just thinking of when I go back to Tucson.”
“Yeah?” Pal looks around him. “Have to admit this place is a dump compared with what we left behind. But there is a lot going for it.”
“Like what?” I’m genuinely interested to hear how he’s settled down.
“Like Jay for a start. Wherever she is, that’s where I want to be.”
Once I might have laughed at him, but now I’ve met Stevie, it’s something I can fully understand.
“The brothers. Just as good people as those I left behind.” He pauses, and this time it’s his eyes which glaze slightly as he drags up what’s on his mind. “I’ve been able to find my place here, become a new man if you like. There’s been opportunities and I’ve grabbed them with both hands. Got a respected place around the table.”
“You had respect in Tucson.”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t the same. I was always the youngest member. Sure, I’m still the same age, but I’m not the kid anymore. Demon’s handed me and Cad the security business since he became prez. Nice to have something of my own to build up.”
“How’s that going?”
“Well. I’m actually taking some classes online to learn about new methods and stuff we could do. Oh, and the legal shit as well.”
I realise that everything’s been a blur since I arrived, I haven’t had the chance to speak with Paladin before, or not in any depth. I admire him for taking the opportunities offered by moving to a new place, settling into a new family. I’m genuinely happy for him, but can’t see myself doing that, I’m longing for the men I’ve called brothers for years, the familiar rather than the new. I’m too old to change. Unlike Pal who still has a chance to find his place in the world, I already have mine, and it’s not here in Pueblo.
Though I think he’s got something right. I suspect wherever Stevie is, I’d be happy.
Max, getting restless, wanders off once again. Pal’s eyes follow him. “Any news on your woman?”
I bite back my reply I’d not be idly standing here if I knew where to find her and try to summon up a polite reply. “Zilch. Cad’s working with Mouse who’s pulling in favours from Cara, but the marshals know how to hide their shit deep. Drummer’s still trying to trace Devil who’s gone underground.”
“And there’s been no word back from the Wretched Soulz?”
“Nah. Driving me fuckin’ crazy if you want to know.”
Pal’s eyes crease in sympathy. “When Jay disappeared, I went out of my mind and that was only for hours. It’s been a week for you now, Beef. I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling.”
“Just putting one foot in front of the other and keep breathing air into my lungs. I feel so fuckin’ helpless, that’s what’s worst.”
He makes no verbal reply, but I feel the slap of his hand against the leather of my cut. The simple gesture of sympathy and support, letting me know he’ll be there for me no matter what. Not for the first time I wonder how I could tolerate a situation such as this without knowing I had such men at my back. The knowledge I’m not alone is what keeps me moving forward.
Another church, the second since Stevie vanished. Ten days gone by and we’re no further forward. Negative reports all around. For want of something to say that doesn’t attract answers of no news, or how the fuck should I know, I bring up the ideas I’ve had while taking Max outside to do the necessary. A task I need to do so often, the state of the area has been playing on my mind.
“You know you could turn the yard into something attractive?” I start when Demon asks whether there’s any other business. Seeing I’ve got their attention, I lay out the ideas I’d thought about the other afternoon.
“Yard’s been that way since we moved into the place,” Rusty grumbles, jerking his chin toward Bomber and Hellfire, the original members.
“Rather like the rustic feel,” Pyro observes.
“Rustic? Construction site more like.” Ink sounds like he could be brought over to my side.
“Pussies from Tucson probably want a swimming pool dug out as well.”
Lizard’s eyes gleam at Mace’s complaint. “Now you’re talking!”
“Vi’s always worrying about Theo when he comes to the club. He’ll soon be crawling. I’m up for the idea.”
I raise my chin toward Prez. Two coming around to my way of thinking.
“How much is this gonna cost, Beef?” A not unexpected question from the treasurer.
I supply the answer, “Less than you’d think. If we do the labour. Just the cost of hiring equipment for a couple of days and the turf.”
“I’m game. As long as Skull’s woman bakes some of those muffins and cookies to keep us fed.” Mace grins.
“Get the prospects to do it,” Thunder growls, seeming unimpressed by the enforcer’s reference to Melissa’s cooking skills.
“We’ll all pitch in,” Demon states firmly. “Bout time we did something about tidying up the outside. Add in fencing to go around the furnace. Don’t want any dogs or kids falling inside.” His pointed look toward me states volumes. Or blind women.
It’s something I can put my back into. Sorting out what we need, getting people organised, having to draw up a rotation from the large number of volunteers who seem more like a pack of kids wanting to take their turn with the new toy, the digger when it’s delivered, keeps me occupied. It doesn’t take my mind totally off Stevie, but at least helps me get through the day. With everyone doing their bit—even the club girls getting involved with Titsy who shows she’s got green fingers and demanding we leave part un-turfed so she can start a vegetable and flower patch—the work proceeds at a good pace. By Sunday evening the yard has been transformed. The ground has been cleared and flattened, and Kentucky Bluegrass has been laid. Just as we finish there’s a rainstorm which means nature’s taken care of watering it in.
Standing inside looking out of the kitchen window, Demon slaps my back. “Will you look at that? Transformed the fuckin’ place. Let’s have a family barbeque next weekend, put it to some use.”
Like the rain drenching the newly laid grass, his words have a similar effect on my pride in the fruition of my idea. What good is a family event when you’ve no one to share it with?
“We’ll find her,” Demon states softly, but with determination. “It’s only a matter of time, Beef.”
The new grass barely has time to settle before it starts getting covered with loungers which, in turn, bear almost naked bodies of the club girls, and only slightly more decently attired old ladies. Jay, Melissa and Violet adorn themselves with bikinis, much to the ire of Demon, Pal and Skull while Mo, Jeannie and Sindy make do with more discreet swimsuits. Cad, strangely, as he’s so pale it wouldn’t be expected he’d spend much time outside, seems very taken by the new greenery, and takes it on himself to direct the prospects to move the furniture each night to avoid browning the new grass. For everyone else, the mood is cheery, and expectations of the barbeque, which is approaching fast, are high.
Satan's Devils MC Colorado Boxset 1 Books 1 - 3 Page 100