Raw: Street Demons MC

by Ada Stone

  “From what my mom described…” She took a deep breath. “I think he’s, or at least was, a Devil’s Nest member.”

  His chest tightened, but he tried not to let his expression show his surprise or his worry. If her dad really was a member of the Devil’s Nest and was still a member, there could be trouble. Not just with having to deal with the shit involving the drug runs they wanted to tear his town apart with, but if her dad found out—decided to make everything about his daughter—there’d be a harder time settling shit.

  “Okay.” He stood up from the bed and kissed her forehead. “What’s his name?”

  “Casper,” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes. He tried not to have any outward show of recognition of the name, but his insides twisted. Casper the Ghost was her father. A playful name for a dead serious man. But the enforcer of a club like the Devil’s Nest needed to be that way. No soul, that’s how most that met him would describe him.

  “What’s wrong?” She searched his eyes. He shook his head and plastered on a smile. She had already had a long day, and he needed her cooperation for the future plan.

  “Nothing. I’ll ask around, see if anyone knows him, if that’s what you want.” He released her and went over to the dresser, trying to be as casual as he could manage, given the fact that his insides were shaking with rage and worry, a mixture completely foreign to him. Having the Ghost as a father-in-law wasn’t exactly on his to-do list, and having him as an enemy while his daughter carried Michael’s baby didn’t make things any better for them, either.

  “I don’t know what I want. Mom said she told him to stay away. But, maybe he’s a different man now. Maybe he was then, but she was too scared. Maybe she saw danger and ran away.” He didn’t miss the way her voice dipped when she spoke. Those were the same worries she held when she looked at their situation. Would she tell him to stay away at some point? Would she think it was better to have him gone from their kid’s life?

  “I’ll ask. If I find him, you can decide then, okay?” He gave her a tight smile and ran his fingers through his hair. “Candy’s coming over. Why don’t you girls rent a movie or something? Just relax. I’ll be home late, and I’m sure Sniper will probably come pick her up from here. The guys are just outside. If you need something, send one of them. Got it?” His hands were back on her arms, rubbing up and down.

  “Got it.” Her smile was just as weak as he felt his own was, but he didn’t have time for a longer conversation. He was already dangerously close to not beating Devlin to the meeting point. He kissed her again, a longer, lingering kiss, then headed out.

  If her father had anything to do with tonight’s meeting, things wouldn’t go well— for anyone.

  # # #

  Belle pulled her hair into a ponytail and slipped into some leggings and a sweater. Candy was sitting downstairs, biting her nails, while Belle finished showering and getting dressed.

  “Hey, you want sausage or cheese on the pizza?” Candy called up the stairs just as Belle stepped out into the hallway.

  “Either is fine,” she answered as she made her way down the stairs.

  Candy had straightened her hair but only wore a light layer of lip glass. She looked cuter than the sex kitten she’d met at the clubhouse.

  “I’ll see what the bobsy twins want.” She laughed and poked her head out the front door to ask the guys.

  “Maybe we should let them inside,” Belle said offhandedly, walking through the living room to the kitchen.

  The front door clicked closed, and the lock slid into place. Belle thought it a little weird but didn’t comment, just went about getting the can of soda from the fridge she was after. With Michael off doing whatever he was doing, she was free to indulge in the forbidden caffeinated drink. After swinging open the fridge with a mischievous smile, sure she was about to get away with something, her heart sank and her hope died. He’d replaced all the soda with fruit drinks and caffeine free soda, the bastard.

  “When you order the pizza, can you order a two-liter of coke, too?” Belle called out to Candy and grabbed a bottle of orange juice to tide her over. No caffeine, but enough sugar to help keep her awake for a little while. “Candy? Did you hear me?” She closed the fridge and twisted the cap off the drink before walking back into the living room.

  “Belle, wait... Don’t panic; it’s okay.” Candy tried to rush to her, but a large hand gripped her hair and tugged her back.

  The orange juice almost slipped through Belle’s hand, but she managed to grip tighter and get her mind to focus just in time. “Devlin.” She would have liked her voice to be just a bit firmer, but she didn’t seem to have a choice at the moment.

  “It’s okay, Belle,” Candy said again, but her eyes didn’t have Belle convinced. They were wide and full of fear. She tried to twist in Devlin’s grasp to turn to him, but he only pulled her to his side, still holding her by her hair.

  “What are you doing here?” Belle looked toward the door she heard lock. “Are the boys still outside?” She looked to Candy for that answer. The tears welling up in her eyes expressed the truth.

  “Yeah, they’re out there.” Devlin grinned, flashing fat teeth. “Their bodies anyway.”

  Candy groaned and again tried to pull free. Devlin flicked his wrist, shoving her behind him. “Stay there.” He pointed a finger at her.

  “What do you want?” Belle took a sip of her orange juice. Her mouth had already gone dry, but more than that, she wasn’t about to show him any fear. She tried not to think about Prank and Jackson lying dead out on the front lawn.

  The sun had already gone down, and since she hadn’t heard any commotion out there, she doubted the neighbors heard or saw anything, either. Michael had been gone almost an hour, and he hadn’t told her where he was going. Was he too far way to get back in time? Her phone—she’d left it on the nightstand upstairs in the bedroom.

  “Just want to talk is all.” Devin shrugged.

  “Not sure how I can help. Michael was meeting you. Shouldn’t you be there instead of here, you know, talking to people who give a shit about what you want?” She took another sip, trying desperately to calm her stomach before she threw up on his shoes, not that she gave a fuck about his boots, but he would see it as a weakness.

  “Oh, you have everything I want, Belle. You just don’t get it yet.” His eyes narrowed, and his fat tongue ran over his bottom lip. She tried not to look as repulsed as she felt, but she wasn’t sure how successful she was.

  “I have no idea what you and Michael are up to, and I don’t care. I don’t know anything about club crap, and I don’t want to. So whatever you’re doing here, it won’t work. I can’t tell you anything, and I really don’t feel like being intimidated right now.” She wanted to sit in the chair. Her knees were getting too wobbly trying to stand up to him.

  “I don’t need any information,” he scoffed. “You think you’d know something I don’t?” He plopped down in the rocking chair and tossed one booted foot up onto the coffee table. “Sit down. Take a load off.” He pointed to the loveseat a few feet to her right.

  “Let Candy go.” Belle didn’t look at Candy but nodded in her direction.

  “So she can go ratting me out to Sniper? Or Michael? Fuck, no. The bitch stays with us. And if she so much as opens her mouth to sneeze, I’m gonna knock her out.”

  “You have a lot of hate for a girl you don’t even know.” Belle suddenly remembered them talking at the mall. He did know Candy, so why was he so pissed at her right then?

  He laughed and looked over to where Candy was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest. “You didn’t tell her? Of course not. I bet you never told Sniper either. He wouldn’t have stuck his dick in you if he’d known mine was there way before his.”

  “Fuck you, Dev.” Candy looked away from him but didn’t quite meet Belle’s eyes. “I’m not with him. I haven’t been with him for a long time.”

  “An ex.” Belle shrugged. “So what?” She aimed her question at Devlin.
“Again, what do you fucking want? I’m hungry and want my pizza.” Candy hadn’t ordered it yet, but he didn’t really know that, nor did it really matter.

  “Michael’s going to be busy with that meeting for a while, I want you to sit the fuck down, just for a few minutes. Our ride should be here soon.” He grinned again.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Belle tried to laugh but moved over to the loveseat and sat down, thankful to get off her feet.

  “We’ll see.” He nodded and reached behind his back. When his hand came forward, a pistol was cradled there. He didn’t aim it at her or Candy, he just rested it on his leg, like a security blanket. “We’ll see.”

  Belle put the bottle of juice on the end table and tried to think about what to do. If she ran out the back door, Candy would still be stuck with the lunatic. That’s if she made it out. He could very well shoot her for her trouble. The front door was out. She’d have to pass him, and it was locked, so that would take up valuable time. Besides, he most likely had at least one more guy out there.

  Devlin relaxed back in the chair, keeping his sneer focused on Belle. Candy just rested her head on her knees, breathing deep.

  Car lights flooded the room from the driveway out front. Two doors slammed shut and the deep voices of two men talking were heard through the windows as they past. Belle looked at the door when the knocks came.

  Devlin grinned wider and hopped up from his chair. “Time for a little reunion.”

  Belle’s breath caught in her chest. He couldn’t mean what she thought. No way he knew. She hadn’t even known.

  Devlin flicked the bolt out of place and pulled the door open. Two men slapped his back and walked into the house. “So, what’s the big prize? What’d you drag my ass out of the bar for?” An older man said looking at Candy on the floor. “Hey, Candy-stripe. I thought we were done with you. Heard you took up with those Street Demon assholes.”

  Candy looked up briefly, then quickly, over to Belle before ducking her head back down.

  “Ghost, not her. Fuck her. The other one.” Devlin gave the man a little shove.

  When he stepped closer, the kitchen light shone on his features, and she sucked in her breath. He was older, much older, than the pictures she’d seen, but it was him—her father, standing in the living room, squinting at her. Maybe he didn’t recognize her.

  “What the fuck?” He finally whispered and took another step closer. “Belle?” He turned quick as a flash to face Devlin. “What the fuck is going on, Dev?”

  “I thought you’d want to see her. I know your old lady bailed on you. Aren’t you happy I found her? Well, Candy girl helped. A little.”

  Belle wanted to look to Candy for answers, but she was still staring up at her father. His beard was graying, almost completely void of the dark hair she remembered from her childhood. His eyebrows were bushier, and his hair, completely gray, was short and neat. Wrinkles—worry lines from a hard life lived—covered his face but didn’t take away from his muscular build. He was in his fifties, yes, but built like a man much younger.

  His eyes softened as he looked back at her. Pain flashed there for a moment before the hard look returned, cold and heartless. “You shouldn’t be here. Why are you here?”

  “I live here. Why are you here?” she demanded with a shaky voice.

  “Here? With that fuck, Michael?” He turned back around and glared at Devlin. “What the fuck?”

  “She’s knocked up, too, Ghost. Got his bastard in her belly.” Devlin seemed to be enjoying the anger he was building up in her father’s expression.

  “I—I don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are all of you here?” She looked past her father, trying to forget for a moment a lifetime of rejection and pain, at the other two men in the room.

  “Your man wasn’t able to get the job done, so we are going to have to go another route. You see, your little club is getting in our way for a big job, and it’s just…well, annoying. So we’re going to have to take what we want.” Devlin spoke as though she knew what they were talking about. It seemed to be almost funny to him.

  The look on her father’s face darkened, and he stepped closer to her before he turned to speak to Devlin. “What are you talking about? We had this discussion, no war with the Streets was worth it. They didn’t want the deal. We’ll just skate around them.”

  “Yeah, we talked about it, but you don’t get it. Taking their route, taking that line, would blow up our profit. And we could expand right into town.”

  “There are other ways.” Her father’s fists clenched at his sides.

  “Yeah, I know.” Devin nodded and pointed at Belle. “This way. You’re gonna take your daughter there and hold on to her while I go meet up with Michael. Once I get what I want, you can let her go or whatever. But you keep her close.”

  “And if he doesn’t give in? You’re talking about a club that only deals with the marijuana shit because it’s medicinal. They have a fundraiser for the fucking high school every year for fuck’s sake, Dev. They aren’t a club that’s going to roll over and let your train of shit drive through.”

  “You see, I keep hearing how the Ghost is losing his spark, lost his taste for the life. Is that true? Am I hearing right?”

  “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

  “No, but you’re saying it like it should matter to me, like we should bow down to those fucks. Not gonna happen!” Devlin’s eyes narrowed, and he took a menacing step toward his enforcer. “Now, I’m being nice, letting you be the one to hold on to her, but if you can’t do it—”

  “I’ll take her,” Ghost said, nearly growling his answer. “Candy-stripe, too. Having Sniper and Michael twisted in knots will only help you.”

  “Fine. Take her, too. Don’t much give a shit about her. Sniper won’t think twice to toss her aside once he finds out she was balls deep in our club first.”

  Belle did look at Candy then. Tears puddled in her eyes, but her lips were pursed and her hands fisted.

  “Take the car, Tommy Boy’s coming with me.” Devlin flashed another smile at Belle. “You be a good girl for your daddy, you hear? If you misbehave, I’ll have to give you a spanking’” He laughed, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, wait. No. Shit. Sorry.” He gave a fake apologetic look, then looked over at Candy. “That’s Sniper’s thing, not Michael’s. I wonder how many times he’s had your mouthy ass over his knee.”

  “Better over his knee than anywhere with you, you asshole,” Candy snapped but remained on the floor.

  Devlin laughed. “Well, after he hears all about us and tosses your ass to the curb, we’ll see about that. And we’ll see if my belt is as sharp as his.” He winked and turned on his heel, nodding to the third man—the silent follower—and walked out of the house, taking with him only some of the tension in the room.

  Belle stood up from the loveseat, moving around her father, unsure of what to do or what to say. After twenty some years, there he was, in the flesh, standing in front of her. He had aged but was there. She could almost smell the leather on his kutte, he was so close to her.

  He watched her as she scooted backward and went to Candy, urging her to her feet. He didn’t stop her when she walked around the rocking chair Devlin had occupied but called out to her when she looked over her shoulder at the front door.

  “Don’t.” It was a devilish tone, hard and low. It made her tense and look back at him. “You both are staying with me.”

  “Ghost, he’s crazed. You know that, right?” Candy finally spoke up, pulling away from Belle. “He’s nuts. If Michael and Sniper can’t get the club to do what he wants, and they won’t, he’s going to make you kill her. You get that, right? You’re going to have to kill your own fucking daughter!” Candy pointed a hand behind her, straight at Belle.

  “You knew,” Belle whispered, keeping her focus on Candy. Too many emotions, too many thoughts floated around her mind. She needed to keep only one in the center, hang on to one detail at a time
. “You knew he was my father.”

  Candy dropped her hand and looked back at her. “You look just like him, Belle, and he talked about his kid a few times when he was drunker than hell, a girl—Belle.” Candy’s shoulders slumped.

  “You…I mean…with him?” Belle couldn’t even look at him. Now a whole new image popped in her head. It was too much.

  “No. I mean, yeah, but no. We never—”

  “Candy-stripe, I don’t think you’re helping. Go take a seat.” Her father jerked a thumb at the couch.

  “Ghost—”

  “Just sit. I think you’ve made a big enough mess, don’t you?”

  “This isn’t my fault.” Candy moved over to the couch and plopped down, looking every bit the pissed off little girl. “I didn’t tell him to go get you, he asked. He saw her, saw the resemblance and he cornered me.”