Satan’s Fury MC - Memphis

by Wilder, L.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.” There was something about the look in his eyes that didn’t set well with me, so I told him, “I tell you what, for today, you just listen to me. I’ll tell you what to do and when to do it.”

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  “Shouldn’t take long,” I tried to assure him. “Ten to fifteen minutes at the most, and then we’ll be headed back home.”

  “How long of a drive we got ahead of us?”

  “It’s about two hours, depending on traffic.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I got it.”

  We were riding in the truck with Riggs and T-Bone, and neither of them had much to say on the way to Little Rock, which made the drive seem longer than usual. Our buyer was an older Hispanic guy named Zerafin Guardian. He’d been working with the club for over twenty years, and we’d never had a single issue during our deliveries. They’d always gone off without a hitch, and we assumed that today would be no different. When we pulled up to the old abandoned gas station, Guardian’s refrigerator truck was parked around back, and he and two of his guys were standing by, waiting to help us unload. Murphy and Riggs pulled up next to them, and once they were both parked, I leaned over to Clay and said, “Wait for my signal.”

  Clay nodded, then watched as Murphy got out of his SUV and went over to Guardian. They spoke for a few moments, then Murphy motioned for us to get out and start unloading. I nudged Clay and said, “Let’s go.”

  We both followed the others over to the back end of the trailer. I unlocked the back door, and once I’d unloaded both horses, T-Bone walked inside and unbolted the secret compartments. As soon as he was finished, the guys started to remove the crates one by one and load them into the backend of Guardian’s truck. While it was a smaller load, the crates were fucking heavy as hell, and it took some time to get them moved from one truck to the other. T-Bone and I had just loaded the last crate into the back of his truck when I heard Clay growl, “Son of a bitch!”

  Curious, I turned to see what had him pissed and found him reaching into his back holster for his weapon. Before I could make sense of what was happening, he had bolted towards the rear of the building. Stunned, I shouted, “What the fuck?”

  “I got no fucking idea, brother,” T-Bone replied, shaking his head. “But I guess we best be finding out.”

  We were just about to start going after him when we heard Murphy shout, “We’ve got company!”

  Just as soon as the words came out of his mouth, gunfire exploded around us, forcing me and T-Bone to duck low as we charged towards the rear of the horse trailer. Bullets whipped over our heads as we withdrew our weapons and surveyed our surroundings, trying to quickly locate our assailants. When I spotted something on one of the rooftops, I turned to T-Bone and said, “On your left. Up on the roof!”

  “Got it!” He motioned his hand over to the right as he said, “Another one’s over there behind the Mercedes.”

  “I see him.”

  Just as we both started shooting, Guardian and his boys jumped into his truck and raced out of the parking lot, leaving us to fight off our attackers alone. T-Bone was still firing away when he grumbled, “What a bunch of fucking pussies!”

  “They got their shit,” I grumbled. “Nothing keeping them here.”

  “If he had any fucking self-respect, he would’ve stayed for us.”

  T-Bone fired another shot, killing the man cowering behind the Mercedes while I took out the guy on the roof. Random shots were still being fired behind us, but I’d noticed that they were becoming less and less frequent. When T-Bone and I turned and started back towards the others, Murphy asked, “Hey, you two okay?”

  “Yeah, we’re good,” T-Bone answered. “Any idea who these guys were?”

  Murphy shook his head. “Got no clue.”

  “We gotta figure out what the fuck just happened here,” Riggs barked.

  “Got no way of knowing,” Gunner complained. “We don’t know if these guys were already hiding out here or if they could’ve fucking followed us.”

  T-Bone ran his hand over his bald head as he grumbled, “Hell, for that matter, we don’t even know if they were here for us or for fucking Guardian.”

  “And with no video surveillance, it’s going to be hard to find any answers,” Riggs complained.

  Just when we were thinking all hope was lost, Clay walked up behind us with some thug who looked like he was all kinds of trouble. He was twenty-two or so, and he was wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and white tennis shoes. He was tatted up all the way to his throat, and he had on one of those thick gold chains and oversized diamond earrings in both ears. His face was all busted up, and his hands were bound behind his back. Clay had worked him over good and seemed quite proud of himself as he said, “I got one of those motherfuckers.”

  “Hell, yeah. That’s what I’m talking about,” T-Bone hailed. “Where’d you get him?”

  “Spotted him sneaking around back just before the shooting started,” Clay explained. “Pretty sure I’ve seen him nosing around the clubhouse a couple of times before. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s the one who brought his buddies here today.”

  “Wait a fucking minute!” The punk just stood there glaring at us with nothing but pure disgust as I barked, “You’re telling me, you knew this kid was nosing around the club and you didn’t say nothing?”

  Clay shrugged. “I was going to this morning, but I figured I should wait until after the run. Didn’t figure he’d have the balls to cause any trouble…not with fucking Fury.”

  Furious, I had to take in a deep breath to keep myself from punching him in the fucking throat. “Clearly, you were fucking wrong!”

  “Easy, brother.” Murphy placed his hand on my shoulder. “No way he could’ve known this shit was gonna go down.”

  “And he might’ve actually helped us out here.” Riggs reached for the collar of the kid’s shirt, lowering just enough to expose the ink on his chest, and said, “Looks like our boy is an Inner Disciple.”

  “What the fuck!” T-Bone roared.

  Murphy took a step towards the kid and placed his hand around his throat, gripping tightly as he asked, “Why did you and your boys follow us here today?”

  When he didn’t answer, Murphy tightened his grip and growled, “Did KeShawn send you here to take us out?”

  Still nothing.

  Frustrated, Murphy released his grip on the kid’s throat and slammed his fist into his gut, causing him to gasp for breath. “I asked you a fucking question!”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” the kid spat. “I ain’t gonna tell you motherfuckers shit.”

  “Is that right?” Murphy chuckled. “Wait until we get you back to the clubhouse and you meet Shadow. You’ll tell us everything we want to know.”

  The kid’s eyes widened as he asked, “Who the fuck is Shadow?”

  “You’ll see.”

  With that, Murphy grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him towards the SUV. We got the horses loaded up and were on the road headed back to Memphis. Every now and then, Clay would glance over in my direction, but I kept my focus trained straight ahead, paying him absolutely no attention. I knew that he was stewing in his thoughts, worried that he’d fucked up beyond repair. He was hoping that I’d give him some sort of sign that things were going to be okay, but I couldn’t do that. Yeah, he’d come through for us by getting his hands on the kid, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d fucked up. His mistake could’ve cost one of us our lives, and that wasn’t something I took lightly. Hell, none of us did. We were family, through and through, and the thought of losing any one of them because of some kind of oversight was difficult to stomach. It made me realize that Clay still had a great deal to learn. He’d yet to understand the true value of brotherhood. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something that I could teach him. Clay would have to experience it for himself. He’d have to see what it felt like to know that someone always had his back, that the brothers were always loyal to one another
and to the club, and would take a bullet if it meant keeping a member safe. I hoped for his sake that he figured it all out because there was no greater feeling on the planet.

  CHAPTER 8

  Darcy

  “So, where have you guys been?”

  Caleb was at his station, looking all kinds of hot in his tight-fitting, long-sleeve black t-shirt and faded jeans as he worked on a carburetor. He didn’t even look up as he answered, “Had club business to tend to.”

  I’d already asked one of the other guys several days before, and his reaction had made me slightly curious, so I thought I’d see if Caleb would tell me what they’d actually been doing for the past few days. “Oh, really? What kind of club business?”

  I was wrong. He didn’t say a thing. Instead, all I got was dead air.

  “So, it going to be like that, huh?”

  “What?”

  “You’re just gonna up and disappear for three days and not even tell me what was going on?”

  “I already told you.” Caleb kept his focus on the grimy carburetor in his hand as he shook his head and replied, “We had club business to tend to.”

  “That doesn’t tell me anything.” I don’t know why it aggravated me that he wouldn’t answer me. Maybe it was the fact that I’d been busting my ass at the garage while they were all off doing God knows what. I rolled my eyes and grumbled under my breath, “What’s up with you guys and your secrets about ‘club business’ anyway? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to hide something.”

  He gave me a warning look, and I almost laughed. That look alone was enough to keep me pushing, so I crossed my arms and scowled as I leaned against the side of the Chevy pickup. “So, this thing that no one wants to talk about…is it dangerous?”

  “Darcy.”

  “What?” I asked innocently. “I’m not asking you to tell me what you guys were actually doing. I was just asking if it was dangerous.”

  “Well, don’t.” His tone grew firm as he said, “In fact, when it comes to club business, don’t ask any questions at all.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “For one, you’re an outsider. Club business is never discussed with anyone except members. Period,” he answered gruffly. “And then there’s the fact that you’re a woman.”

  “A woman? What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “If you were an ol’ lady or even dating a brother, then I might explain it to you.” He glanced up at me with a blank expression as he said, “Since you’re not, this conversation is over.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yeah. Just like that.”

  “Fine.” I stood there staring at him for several seconds, then remembered all the projects I’d been working on and still needed to complete. “So, what am I supposed to do about the ticket for the Honda?”

  “Just put it on Blaze’s desk.” He turned his attention back to his work as he continued, “He’ll get to it when he can.”

  I tried to rein in my bitchy tone as I asked, “Any idea when he needs the ’58 Duo done?”

  “He didn’t say, but I’ll be sure and ask him if he calls to check in.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  I turned to leave, but stopped when Caleb called out to me, “Darcy?”

  “Yeah?”

  When I spun around to face him, I could tell by his expression that something was weighing on his mind. After several moments, he finally said, “You need to know that things can get pretty intense around here. There’ll be times when we don’t come into the garage for days, weeks even. Sometimes the guys will seem like they’re walking on top of the world, while at others they’ll seem like they’re ready to blow. Like it or not, you’re never going to have any idea why things are the way they are around here.”

  I thought about what he’d said for a moment, then replied, “I get it.”

  “I hope you do,” his dark eyes grew intense as he continued, “because the guys hired you because they thought you could handle it.”

  I took a moment to think about what he’d said, and I suddenly felt guilty for being such an asshole. Caleb didn’t owe me any answers. Hell, none of them did. I was simply an employee—nothing more, and I needed to remember that the next time I got my panties in a twist over something stupid. I let out a sigh and said, “You’re right, and I can handle it. You’ll see.”

  Before he could say anything more, I went back to my paint room and got to work on the 1958 Harley Duo Glide I’d started on that morning. It was Harley’s first model with a rear suspension, and their coil-over shocks were a big hit with riders, making this particular motorcycle an instant classic. It was a ride made for comfort with more chrome than parts that actually needed painting, but once I’d painted it all black and added the intricate flame design on the tank, it would be something to behold. I spent the entire day doing my best to focus on it, and nothing else.

  Once I was done, I said a quick goodbye to the guys and headed home. When I got to the trailer, I noticed that two new motion-activated lights had been installed on each corner of the house. I might’ve stopped and asked Frances or Alice about them, but I already knew who was responsible. As soon as I got inside, I took out my phone and messaged Caleb.

  Me: Security lights too?

  Caleb: Just helping out Thelma and Louise.

  Me: I didn’t ask you to do that.

  Caleb: No, you didn’t. You didn’t ask for cameras, but those will be installed next.

  Me: I already told you. I don’t need all this stuff.

  Caleb: Good night, Darcy.

  Me: Caleb!

  When he didn’t respond, I laid my phone down on the bedside table and got ready for bed. The following day, I tried to keep my focus strictly on my work, but there were those moments where I’d find myself looking over to Caleb’s station to see what he was up to. I told myself that it didn’t mean anything, that it was just my curiosity getting the best of me, but as each day passed, I was beginning to have my doubts. I feared that the pull I felt towards him was growing stronger, but I wouldn’t let myself think about that. Instead, I pushed it to the back of my mind, refusing to let it keep me from getting my work done. There had still been no sign of Blaze, so I had no idea when things were expected to be done. It was hard not to let myself get frustrated or overwhelmed. I didn’t want to disappoint the guys or my customers by not having something done on time, so I’d been busting my ass to finish one project after the next.

  It was almost six on a Friday night, and I’d been at it since daylight. I hadn’t even stopped to eat lunch. I was just starting to wind things down when Caleb tapped on the paint room door. As he stepped inside, he asked, “Hey, you hungry?”

  “Starving. Why?”

  “T-Bone and I are about to go grab a burger at the 8-Ball.” He was out of his work overalls and back in his t-shirt and jeans, along with his Satan’s Fury cut, and he was looking all kinds of good with his day-old scruff. “Thought I’d see if you wanted to join us.”

  We hadn’t spoken much in the past couple of days, so his offer took me by surprise. If I hadn’t been so hungry, I might’ve considered telling him no. “Can you give me a minute to wrap this up?”

  “Yeah. We’ll meet you out back when you’re done.”

  “Okay. Sounds good.”

  I rushed to finish the front fender, then once I’d put away all my equipment, I pulled off my painter’s suit and gloves. I went over to the sink and did my best to wash up. After I was done, I grabbed my keys and went out to meet T-Bone and Caleb. They were already sitting on their bikes, and a big smile crossed T-Bone’s face as soon as he saw me walking in their direction. “Come on, woman. I’m withering away over here.”

  “I’m coming. I’m coming!”

  A big goofy smile crossed T-Bone’s face as he snickered. “Yeah, that’s what she said.”

  I shook my head as I got on my bike. “How old are you? Twelve?”

  “I’ll show you twe
lve.” He grabbed his crotch as he taunted, “Twelve hard inches.”

  “T-Bone,” Caleb fussed.

  “What?” T-Bone’s brows furrowed with dejection as he motioned his hand in my direction. “She said she wanted to be treated like one of the guys.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine, Caleb,” I interrupted. “I can handle it, besides…I know as well as you do, the only thing T-Bone has that’s twelve inches is that seat he’s sitting on.”

  “Damn, woman. That’s fucking cold.”

  I giggled as I told him, “Only because it’s true.”

  “What are you two waiting for? Let’s go eat.”

  With that, the guys started their engines, and I followed them over to the 8-Ball. Just like the night when Caleb and I had gone there for a beer, the place wasn’t very busy, and we had no problem getting a table. I was feeling a little skeptical as I placed my order for a cheeseburger and fries, but T-Bone leaned over and whispered, “Best fucking burger in town. Swear it.”

  “I’m so hungry right now I’d eat the heel off my boot as long as it wouldn’t make me pay for it later.”

  “I’m not promising that this burger won’t hang with you for a couple of hours, but trust me. It’ll be worth it,” he assured me.

  A pretty young waitress with long blonde hair, large breasts, and long legs brought over our drinks. Her eyes roamed over Caleb as she placed his beer in front of him, making it clear that she found him attractive. “Hey, y’all. I’m Crystal. I’ll be your waitress tonight.”

  Biting back the unexpected twinge of jealousy, I gave her a slight smile. “Hey, Crystal.”

  With her focus still trained on Caleb, Crystal placed her hand on her hip and smiled. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No.” Seeming unfazed by her advances, he replied, “This should do it.”

  “All right, then. I’ll be back as soon as your order is up.”

  When she turned to leave, T-Bone leaned to the side for a better view of her ass as she walked back to the bar. “Damn, brother. That chick is smoking.”