Satan’s Fury MC - Memphis

by Wilder, L.

  “No,” he interrupted. “There’s nothing new from anyone. I’m sorry, August. I promise I’m doing everything I can to find your daughter.”

  “Okay. Just please call the minute you hear anything.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up the phone and was returning it to my purse when Gunner returned. He tapped on the door as he stepped inside.

  “I got your luggage.”

  “Thank you for doing that.”

  “No problem.” He walked over and placed the bag on the floor. When he noticed that I hadn’t touched the food he’d brought, he looked over to me and asked, “You want something else?”

  “I’m good.”

  “You sure? When I went out to get your bag, I saw that the girls are making up fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Smelled good … really good.”

  “The girls?”

  “Yeah. We have a few hang-arounds that help out in the kitchen and with other things.”

  There was something about his tone that told me that there was something he wasn’t telling me. Curious, I asked, “What kind of other things?”

  “I think that’s best left for another day.” He motioned his hand forward and waited for me as he said, “Come on. Let’s grab a bite to eat.”

  “Okay.”

  I followed him down the hall, and as soon as I smelled the food cooking, my stomach started to growl. We stepped into the kitchen, and just like he’d mentioned, there were several young, scantily dressed women hovering over the stove and sink. Each of them seemed to have their own part in preparing dinner as they chatted amongst themselves. As soon as they noticed that we’d walked in, one of the women looked over and gave Gunner a flirtatious smile. “Hey there, handsome. You want me to fix you a plate?”

  “Yeah, Candace, that’d be great.” He nodded his head over in my direction as he told her, “Fix one up for August while you’re at it.”

  “Sure thing. What can I get you two to drink?”

  Gunner looked over to me and asked, “Iced tea good with you?”

  “Yes, that’s just fine.”

  “Iced tea if you’ve got it.”

  “Sure thing.”

  As we sat down at the long wooden kitchen table, I took a moment to look around. It was a big room, much bigger than my kitchen at home, with all new appliances and very few decorations—just a checkered curtain over the window and a large mural of a motorcycle on the back wall. While it was definitely masculine, it felt warm and comfortable. I was still looking around when Candace brought over our glasses of tea and placed them on the table. She gave me an odd look as she said, “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  Before I could respond, Gunner gave her a sharp look. “She’s a friend of Gus’s.”

  “Oh.” A big, fake smile crossed her face as she feigned her sweetest possible voice, “Well, a friend of Gus’s is a friend of mine. It’s great to have you here, darlin’. Let me grab those plates for ya.”

  She rushed over and grabbed two plates filled to the brim with food, then rested them on the table. “Thank you, Candace.”

  “No problem at all.” As she started back towards the others, she let her fingers trail over the back of Gunner’s neck. “You two let me know if you need anything else.”

  I’d never been one of those people who could hide how I was feeling. Mad, happy, or sad, it was always written all over my face, so I wasn’t surprised when Gunner asked, “What?”

  “Nothing,” I answered, trying to play it off.

  “Oh, no. There’s definitely something. Whatcha thinking?”

  “Nothing really. I’m just taking it all in,” I lied.

  I glanced over at Candace in her short miniskirt and halter top, and for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain, I was overcome with an urge to thump her right in the head. I was imagining doing just that when I heard Gunner say, “She isn’t all bad.”

  “Who?”

  “Candace.” He took a bite of mashed potatoes, then said, “Just like most of the girls who hang around here, she’s had some hard times. Parents are both cracked out. Don’t seem to care if she’s coming or going, so she spends a lot of time here. We do what we can to look out for her and the others.”

  He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth when a tall, brute-of-a-biker with a bald head and tattoos covering his enormous biceps walked in. I watched as one of the girls sashayed over to him, only stopping when her boobs were pressed seductively against his chest. I cringed as I watched the blonde place her hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. As I continued to watch her little display, I leaned towards Gunner and whispered, “I’m guessing these girls don’t just do the cooking and cleaning around here.”

  “Yeah. Some go above and beyond.” He chuckled as he looked over his shoulder at the girl then shrugged. “But, what can I say? They’re eager to please.”

  My words dripped with sarcasm as I replied, “From the looks of it, they are very eager to please.”

  I was taking a drink of my tea when I noticed the bald man walking in our direction. He patted Gunner on the back as he sat down next to him and said, “Missed you at the garage today.”

  “I wasn’t there long.”

  “Blaze said you got that piece-of-shit carburetor up and going.”

  “I did.” Gunner cocked his eyebrow as he asked, “What about that manifold? You manage to get that finished?”

  I totally missed his response. I was too busy watching the commotion over at the stove. The blonde from earlier had started cooking another batch of fried chicken when some of the oil spilled out, causing fire to rise up from beneath the frying pan. Without realizing what she was doing, she took her glass of water and tossed it on the flame, doing little to put it out. Frazzled, she reached for the frying pan and yelped when it singed her hand. The other girls stood there frozen, completely clueless as to what to do. Knowing the fire could quickly get out of hand, I rushed over, grabbed the flour off the counter, and quickly dumped it on the fire, snuffing the flame completely.

  The room fell silent as I moved from the stove over to the girl. I calmly reached for her hand and led her over to the sink. “We need to get some cold water on that burn before it gets any worse.”

  Sniffling, she nodded and slipped her hand under the cold water. Looking completely amazed, she turned to me and she asked, “How did you know to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Put that fire out like that.”

  “It’s something my mother taught me.” I smiled as I said, “I’ve had to use that little trick more than once myself, and I’m sorry to say, it makes a bit of a mess.”

  “It’s okay,” one of the girls called out as she grabbed some paper towels. “We’ll get it cleaned up.”

  “Thank you.”

  I was still holding her hand under the water when Gunner and the big, bald-headed guy came up behind me. “Looks like you saved the day with your quick thinking, little lady.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Well, I do,” he argued. “In a couple more minutes, this whole kitchen could’ve been up in flames.”

  “I’m sure someone would’ve gotten it out before that happened.” As I lifted the girl’s hand, I told them, “I think she’s gonna need to get something for this burn.”

  Gunner looked over to the young girl and said, “Go down and let Mack take a look at it.”

  “Okay.” I turned off the water, then wrapped her hand in a clean, wet rag. Once I was done, she reached out and hugged me. With a sweet, sincere tone, she whispered, “Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Glad I could help.”

  Once she’d turned to leave, the man turned his attention to Gunner as he asked, “You gonna introduce me to our guest?”

  “August, this is T-Bone.”

  “Hi, T-Bone. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Right back at ya.” He gave me a wink and a friendly smile. “Good to ha
ve you here.”

  “Thank you.” As I stood there looking at them both, a strange feeling of anxiousness washed over me. I had no idea why, but I needed to get out there. I turned to Gunner as I said, “If it’s okay, I think I’m just going to go back to the room.”

  “Sure, it’s okay. I’ll go with you, if you want.”

  “No. I’m fine,” I assured him. “I just need a minute.”

  “Okay. I’ll come down and check on you when I’m done.”

  I nodded with a feigned smile, then rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall. When I got to my room, I walked in and collapsed onto the bed. I stared up at the ceiling as I thought about what the detective had told me. The first forty-eight hours are critical when it comes to finding missing children. Those forty-eight hours had already come and gone for Harper. Dread washed over me as I listened to the clock ticking on the wall—a reminder of the time that was quickly slipping away from me. Just like the beating of my own heart, I couldn’t stop it or even slow it down. It just kept pounding away, and with each tick, it was another second I’d lost with my precious daughter—another second she was out there alone and in danger. The all-consuming fear and dread of what may come weighed on me like an invisible beast, looming over me as it reveled in my torment. I tried to push it back, but those dreadful thoughts kept circling around my mind until there was no room for anything else. My chest continued to tighten and my hands started to tremble, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d have a full-blown panic attack.

  I’d laid there for almost an hour, trying to pull myself together, but nothing was working. I couldn’t take it a minute longer, so I got up and headed down the hall. When I got to the bar, I was thankful that the place was completely empty. While I felt a little awkward just helping myself to their alcohol, my need for an escape was stronger. I took a shot glass from beneath the counter and a bottle of vodka from the freezer, then went over to one of the tables in the back of the room. Once I’d sat down, I poured myself a shot and quickly drank it. The cold liquor burned as it slipped down my throat, causing me to wince as I swallowed. Ignoring the sensation, I poured myself another and another. By the third shot, I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, and the tension I was carrying in my muscles started to ease. I leaned back in the chair and listened to the upbeat lyrics of the song playing on the jukebox. When the song was over, I started to pour myself another round but stopped when I noticed Gunner walking in my direction. “I went by your room and got worried when you weren’t there.”

  “Sorry.” I shrugged. “I needed to get out of there for a little while.”

  “How many of those have you had?”

  “Not many. I just needed a little liquid strength.” With his eyebrow cocked high, he looked at me like he wasn’t buying a word I said. Ignoring his look of displeasure, I motioned my hand towards the bottle of Vodka and asked, “You want one?”

  “Liquid strength?”

  “I need something to numb the ache.” I hated the weakness I heard in my own voice. It made me feel so inadequate and needy. “I’m just not strong enough to handle all of this. It’s too much.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” he argued. “You’ve gotta be one of the bravest, strongest chicks I’ve ever met.”

  “How can you say that? All I’ve done is cry for the past three days.”

  “No. You’ve done everything you could to find your daughter, more than most would ever be able to do on their own. Hell, you even came here … to a clubhouse filled with guys you don’t know—some scary guys at that.” He chuckled. “But you didn’t let that stop ya. You just kept at it, and if I had to guess, you’ll find your daughter. I’d bet my life on it.”

  “I hope you’re right.” I inhaled a deep breath as I poured myself another and drank it. “Have one with me?”

  He nodded, then got up and grabbed himself a shot glass. When he returned, I filled his glass three-fourths full and then filled mine to the brim. With a smirk, he took his shot, then watched as I picked up mine and drank the entire glass. I was about to pour us another round when he reached for the bottle. As he took it from my hand, he smiled and said, “Easy there, killer. You haven’t had much to eat. This will hit you a lot quicker than you think.”

  “Good. That’s the point. I want it to hit me. The quicker the better.” I pointed to the bottle of vodka as I ordered, “Now, do me a favor and pour me another.”

  He filled my glass as he warned, “You know, drinking like this is gonna make you sick as a dying dawg.”

  “Maybe, but it can’t be any worse than the way I’m feeling now.” I downed the shot, then leaned back in my seat with a huff. “I’m tired of worrying. Tired of not knowing where she is and if she’s okay. I just want my baby back.”

  “I know you do, but I don’t think getting sauced is going to make you feel any better.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” As I took my next shot, the fog started to hit and I found myself saying things I would normally never say. “Why do you care anyway? It’s not like you know me, and I wasn’t exactly nice to you at that gas station. And I’m sorry about that, by the way. If it was any other day, I would’ve been flattered that a guy as good-looking as you would even try to talk to me.”

  “Flattered? Why the hell would you be flattered?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I have that whole ‘mom’ vibe going on. It’s like instant repellant for guys. I’m surprised it didn’t do the same thing to you.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but there ain’t nothing about you that would ever be considered a repellant to any man, including me.” His eyes roamed over me as he said, “You are all kinds of smoking hot, and the fact that you have a kid doesn’t change that. In fact, knowing that you are actually a good mother who loves her kid only makes you that much more attractive, so get that thought out of your pretty head.”

  “Aww,” I slurred. “That was so sweet of you to say.”

  “Not trying to be sweet here, August. I’m just telling it like it is.”

  “Pfft. Okay. Whatever,” I scoffed. Feeling slightly embarrassed by his compliments, I turned away from his heated gaze and found myself looking up at all the different motorcycle parts they’d hung along the walls. When I looked closer, I realized that all the pieces were damaged in some way. The headlight was crackled, an old MC vest was ripped, a fender was crumpled, and those were just a few of the various beaten-up motorcycle pieces. Curious why they’d chosen to hang them in their bar, I asked, “What’s with all the busted motorcycle parts?”

  “That was Gus’s idea. He has a thing for broken stuff.” I looked up at the ripped vest as he continued, “He says they help remind us of lessons learned, lives lost, or second chances. He’s right. Every time I look at that busted headlight, I remember the night I got on my bike after one too many beers and almost lost my life because of it.”

  “I like that idea. Maybe I should start my own wall of broken things. I have plenty I could add to it.”

  “We all do, but that’s what makes life so interesting.”

  Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol or maybe the stress I was under, but Gunner, the hot biker with an adorable smile and sexy dimples, was starting to grow on me.

  CHAPTER 5

  Gunner

  I just didn’t get how a woman as gorgeous as August James could ever doubt for one second that she was smoking hot. Hell, I’d never seen a more beautiful woman, and she was quick on her feet, too. She’d put that fire out without breaking a sweat and tended to the burn on Halley’s hand like it was second nature to her. If I had to guess, I’d say there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do. I don’t know why she doubted herself like she did, but I sure didn’t. Damn. I was completely captivated by her. It took every ounce of my willpower to resist leaning in towards her just so I could get a little closer, especially with the way she was looking at me. I knew it was just the alcohol getting to her, but damn, it was hard not to let myself wonder if she was really in to m
e or if it was just my fucking imagination. Not that it mattered anyway. It wasn’t like I could do a fucking thing about it. I had a job to do, and I wasn’t going to let Gus down. It was time to redirect our conversation before things got out of hand. “So, what do you do for a living?”

  “I was working in politics … helped run my ex-husband’s campaign, then started working for Senator Adams, but I quit. I just couldn’t take it anymore.” She reached for the bottle of vodka and poured herself another shot. “Right now, I’m working as a pharmaceuticals rep at a place where my mother used to work. The money’s good, and I can work my own hours. What about you?”

  “I do a little of this and that, but mainly work in the club’s garage. We renovate classic cars.” Following her lead, I poured myself another shot. “You like living in Nashville?”

  “Yeah, for the most part.” She shrugged as she lifted her drink. I watched as she brought the shot glass up to her full lips, letting the cool liquid slip into her mouth. Damn. I knew I was struggling, but I didn’t know how much until I found myself feeling jealous of a fucking shot glass. Totally unaware of what was going on in my head, she lowered the glass to the table and said, “I’d always felt safe there, but now … not so much.”

  Her words were starting to slur, and her eyelids were getting heavy. If I didn’t do something soon, she was going to end up totally wasted. “Hey, you want to go outside and get some fresh air?”

  “Yeah, that’s probly a good idea,” she mumbled as she poured herself a shot. Once she drank it, she stood up with a stumble and said, “I’m fahh-lowing you.”

  I stood up and took a hold of her elbow as I led her away from the vodka bottle and out the back door. She was a little wobbly, so I guided her over to one of the picnic tables. We both sat on top of it with our feet resting on the bench seat below. I was relieved that it was a nice night out. Tennessee was known for its humidity in the summer, and lately it had been damn near unbearable, but tonight it wasn’t so bad. The sky was clear, and there was actually a nice cool breeze. I glanced over at August, and she was looking up at the stars as I asked, “You come from a big family?”