Satan’s Fury MC - Memphis

by Wilder, L.

“Don’t see what you’re getting at, brother,” he poked. “You knew what you were signing up for when you started prospecting. If you expected a medal or something for the shit, you might as well give it up.”

  “Not expecting a fucking medal, dickhead.” Dane sat back in his seat as he grumbled, “Just a simple acknowledgement of the fact.”

  “You’ll get your acknowledgment when you get your fucking patch,” Rip answered with little emotion.

  If I didn’t know better, I might’ve thought that Rip was actually jealous of the fact that Dane had been the one who’d gotten shot and not him. I didn’t necessarily blame him. As prospects, there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to show the brothers that our loyalty lies with them and the club, even if that meant putting our lives on the line by taking a bullet for them. While I hadn’t been shot, I was in that line of fire as well, not long after Dane had been hit. We’d gone to the gang leader’s house to get Kenadee back, and as luck would have it, I came up on Rider and KeShawn when they were in the middle of a standoff. Knowing his life was in danger, I approached KeShawn from behind and placed my gun against his head, giving Blaze the opportunity he needed to take a shot. At the time, I didn’t think much of what I’d done, but that very move caught the attention of the brothers, and it’s one of the reason why Gus offered me a chance to prospect. When I accepted, I knew what I was getting into—the good and the bad. None of it mattered. I wanted to be a member and was willing to do whatever was needed to make it happen.

  When we got to the Eight Ball, Rip turned to me and asked, “You following us back to the clubhouse?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right behind ya.”

  He nodded, then he and Dane got out of the truck and headed over to Gauge and T-Bone’s bikes. I waited while they threw on their helmets and started up the bikes, then I followed behind as they eased out of the parking lot. As soon as we got back, I tracked down T-Bone and Gauge and gave them back their keys. Once I was done checking in with them, I started down the hall towards my room. It was still relatively early, but I was beat and looking forward to calling it a night.

  The clubhouse was an old train depot that the brothers had renovated. Like the rest of the building, the halls were old and rustic with old lanterns lining the walls. They wanted the option of staying at the clubhouse whenever they saw fit, so they added twenty or so bedrooms that were perpendicular to each other. Inside, they were all basically the same. A bed with a TV mounted on the wall, a desk, and a dresser with an attached bathroom. Each of the brothers made the rooms their own by decorating them with various pictures or biker memorabilia that meant something to them. I hadn’t had a chance to do anything with mine, so it looked pretty much the same as it did when I first arrived. Just as I stepped inside my room and was about to fallout on the bed, my cell phone started to ring.

  I groaned, thinking it was one of the brothers with another odd job for me to complete, but when I looked down at the screen, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was my uncle Viper calling. “Hey, Unc. How’s it going?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “It’s going all right. Been busy as hell,” I scoffed, “but I’m making it.”

  “Busy is good. Busy means you’re keeping yourself out of trouble.”

  I knew he meant well, but I didn’t need a reminder of the dumb shit I’d done. Worst of all? I wasn’t there for my mother and sister when they needed me the most. I’d never forgive myself for hurting them like I did, but I’d turned a corner. I hoped, in time, Viper would see that I wasn’t the same guy that I was when I left Nashville. “No trouble here. Just working in the garage and doing whatever I’m told.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “You thought any more about getting your own place?”

  “Yeah, I want to find something, but between work and all the running around I do, I haven’t had time.” A couple of the guys stayed at the club most every night, but a majority had a place of their own. I didn’t mind staying at the club, though. For the most part, I actually liked it, but there was something to be said about having one’s own space. “But I have a couple of places I’m gonna try to check out this week.”

  “Let me know if you find anything, and I’ll bring your mother and sister down to help you get settled in.”

  “That’s not gonna be necessary, Viper. I can get some of the guys to help me.”

  “I’m sure you can, but Janice would like to see you. You know that,” he argued. “Like it or not, she’s missing her son.”

  I knew he was right. I’d been trying to do better about calling and checking in, but things had been hectic lately and I’d put it off. Hoping he’d understand, I replied, “I know, but you know how prospecting can be. Hell, I barely have time to take a piss, much less get a decent night’s sleep.”

  “I understand better than you know, but your mother doesn’t.” His tone suddenly grew harsh. “She’s already lost your father. Ain’t right that she’s gotta lose her boy too.”

  “You’re right.” I let out a deep breath. “I’ll work out something to see her soon.”

  “Make sure that you do,” he ordered. “Go get some rest. Sounds like you need it.”

  “Planning on it. Thanks, Viper.”

  As soon as I hung up, I tossed my phone on the bedside table and lay down on the bed. I was just planning on resting my eyes for a minute, but the next thing I knew, I was waking up to the sun blaring through my small corner window. I glanced over at the clock and sprang out of bed, seeing that I only had forty-five minutes before I needed to be at the garage. I rushed into the bathroom for a quick shower, then threw on some clean clothes. Without stopping for coffee or breakfast, I went straight out to the parking lot and got on my bike. It had been days since I’d actually been able to ride my Harley, so I was looking forward to getting a little wind therapy, especially since we were still in a warm spell. The temps were supposed to drop dramatically over the next week, so I was happy to take advantage of the warm, sunny morning.

  I’d just put on my helmet when T-Bone and Gauge came barreling out of the clubhouse. By looking at them, you would’ve never known that either of them were shit-faced the night before. T-Bone gave me a nod, then asked, “You going to the garage?”

  “Yep, headed that way now.”

  “Good deal. We’ll follow you in.”

  Moments later, the roar of Harleys cranking up filled the parking lot, and we were driving through the gate. I’d actually gotten a decent night’s sleep, and was feeling damn good, riding towards the garage with two of the brothers by my side. The wind was just right, just cool enough to get the blood pumping, and even though the traffic was starting to pick up, it wasn’t enough to slow us down. We all made it to the garage with plenty of time to spare. Once inside, I grabbed myself a cup of coffee and got busy working on a 1950 Chevy 3100 we were breaking down to restore. The owner requested a full remodel with all new interior, bedliner, and exhaust. To top it off, he wanted it painted black with bright red flames blending in from the hood to the side panels. Knowing the kind of paintwork Darcy did, I had no doubt that it’d look badass when it was done.

  As soon as we’d pulled the engine, I started getting her prepped for painting. I spent the entire day sanding and working out imperfections and, without any major interruptions from the brothers, was making some real progress. I was both relieved and surprised when the following few days held much of the same. I’d work all day on the Chevy, follow the brothers back to the clubhouse, and after a quick bite of dinner, I’d hit the sack, praying that I wouldn’t get a call in the middle of the night. I didn’t. While I enjoyed the breather, I knew it wouldn’t last, so I used the time I had to get the Chevy done. I was just a few hours from finishing up when Blaze came over to my station and said, “Hey … There’s someone on the phone asking for you.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Didn’t say.”

  I nodded, then walked over to
Blaze’s desk and picked up the receiver. “This is Clay.”

  “Hey, this is Dr. Tanner from the animal clinic. You told me to give you a call if there was a problem with Duchess.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, there’s a problem.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Landry

  I’d always prided myself on being a good judge of character. I’d learned that it wasn’t about what a person said, or even what others had said about them. It was a person’s actions that truly defined them. Anyone could say the right thing, tell someone exactly what they wanted to hear, but if they actually lived up to the promises they made, especially when no one was watching, it showed that they had a good, decent personality. As far as Aniya Strayhorn was concerned, I wanted to believe all the things that she’d told me during my visit to their home. It was clear that things hadn’t been easy for her or her husband. They’d both lost their jobs due to downsizing and had struggled to find work elsewhere. Aniya had been working odd jobs like cleaning houses and filling in at the nursing home, but with so many mouths to feed, it simply wasn’t enough. It would’ve been great if her husband had stepped up to the plate and helped out where he could, but their financial struggles became too much for him and he left.

  It was difficult to hear how hard things had been for them, but it gave me some insight as to why the calls had been made about the kids. She didn’t have anyone to watch them when she went to work, which explained why they had been left alone so often. I hated for her to lose her children when she was actually trying to do right by them. In hopes of helping her keep her kids, I’d been working diligently to find her a more stable job, some options for childcare, and even though she didn’t like the idea of taking handouts, I’d gotten her the paperwork to sign up for food stamps. Once I had everything together, I went back over to their house to discuss everything with Aniya. The second she opened the door and invited me inside, I could tell it hadn’t been a good day for her. Unlike the time before, the house was in disarray, and with the dark circles under her eyes and disheveled hair, she looked somewhat out of sorts. “Is everything okay?”

  “No,” she admitted. “We’ve had a long night.”

  “You want to talk about it?” She glanced over at me, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she studied me for a moment. Even though I hadn’t given her any reason not to, I could tell she was still trying to decide if she could trust me. Hoping to get her to open up, I reminded her, “I’m here to help, Aniya. I can’t do that unless I know what’s going on.”

  “Fiona’s cough had gotten worse yesterday, and I had to take her to the emergency room. The doctor was so angry with me.” Tears filled her eyes as she explained, “I knew it was bad, but I couldn’t afford a doctor’s visit right now. Hell, I can barely afford to buy groceries and keep the damn lights on. I tried explaining that to the doctor, but he didn’t care about anything I said. He was too busy judging me, assuming that I was some piece-of-shit parent who didn’t give a damn about my kids. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know what I’m going through, but he sat up there on his high horse looking down on me for not taking better care of my kid.”

  “I’m sure that was difficult for you, Aniya.”

  “How would you know? I bet you’ve never had to decide between buying a bottle of cough syrup or a jug of milk for your kids!” she spat.

  “No, I can’t say that I have, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t understand.” I took a step closer as I tried to reason with her. “I’ve worked with many families that have had to deal with the same things you’re struggling with right now, and I really think I have some options for you that might help … if you’re willing to hear me out.”

  Her rigid shoulders grew lax as she let out a deep breath. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “Good.” I smiled as I motioned her over to the sofa. Once we were both seated, I turned to her and asked, “First, how’s Fiona?”

  “Much better. The doctor gave her a shot and a breathing treatment, and she actually slept through the night.”

  “That’s really good news.”

  I opened my satchel and pulled out the paperwork I’d brought for her to look over. First, I showed her the list of job openings I’d found in her area, a couple were better than others, but each of them would provide her with a steady paycheck and enable her to be home at night. When she voiced her concern about leaving the kids unattended, I explained how I’d found a church that offered free after-school childcare until six every evening. While she was receptive to that idea, it took a little more convincing to get her to sign up for food stamps. Her brows furrowed as she looked at the forms and said, “I already told you how I feel about this.”

  “I know and I understand your reasons why, but with these, you won’t have to decide between buying the cough syrup or that jug of milk.”

  “Yeah, but what kind of person would I be if I took something for nothing?”

  “The kind of person who’d do whatever it took to provide for her kids.”

  I watched as my words sunk in, and I knew I’d finally gotten through to her. We continued to talk for several more minutes, and once we were done, I asked if I could go check in on Fiona. As soon as she gave the okay, I went upstairs and eased the door open. I was pleased to see that she was awake and sitting up on the bed. Her color was much better than it had been the last time I’d seen her, and she looked less drained. “Hey there. How ya feeling?”

  “Bret-ter.”

  “I’m really glad to hear that.” I walked over to the edge of her bed and smiled as I said, “I was worried about you.”

  “I o-kay. Momma took me to da hos-pit-tle.”

  “She told me. I’m glad that the doctor was able to make you feel so much better.”

  Her lips pursed into a pout. “He not nice to Momma.”

  “I heard about that. I’m sure it’s just because he was worried about you. Not that it’s any reason for him to be rude to your mother.” When I saw that she was holding the same little gray elephant that she’d shown me the last time I was there, I asked, “How’s Bella doing?”

  She glanced down at the stuffed toy and smiled, “She’s ti-erd.”

  “Well, I’ll let you two get some rest.” As I started towards the door, I told her, “I’ll be back in a few days to see how you are doing.”

  “Bye, Ms. Lan-dree.”

  “Bye, sweetie.”

  I left the Strayhorn house feeling pretty good about things. While there was still a lot of work that needed to be done, I felt like I’d made some real progress. I hoped I would have similar luck when I went to see Mr. Coburn. He’d been dodging my calls all week, but after l left a message threatening to get the police involved, he finally answered. He agreed to meet with me to discuss the accusations that had been about him, but he made it crystal clear that he wasn’t happy about it. Even went as far as to say that he’d prove whoever had filed the report was lying, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d seen the dejected look in Katie’s eye when she told me how her father behaved when he drank. I tried to remind myself that I needed to keep an open mind as I drove towards his house. I pulled up in his driveway and spotted a man sitting on the front porch. When I opened my car door and got out, he stood and started walking towards me.

  Reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, a fake smile crossed his face as he extended his hand and said, “Hello, you must be Ms. Dawson.”

  “I am.” I studied his face as I shook his hand. He looked a little different than he had in his driver’s license picture, older and heavier, and there was a large snake tattoo on his forearm, but I could tell from his short curly hair and beady brown eyes that it was, indeed, Mr. Coburn. “And you must be Mr. Coburn.”

  “You can call me Chris.” He motioned his hand towards the house as he said, “Would you like to come inside?”

  “It’s such a beautiful day.” I wasn’t feeling too keen on the idea of being alone with him, especially after he’d been drinking, so I
suggested, “Would you mind if we just talk on the porch?”

  “Sure, that would be fine.”

  As I followed him up to the house, I noticed there was a motorcycle parked in his garage and an assortment of tools scattered around the ground. Remembering that Clay had a similar motorcycle in the back of his truck on the night we met, I considered asking Mr. Coburn about it, but decided against it when I spotted a bottle of bourbon tucked behind a dead potted plant. There was no doubt that I had, in fact, smelled alcohol on his breath, and I wasn’t interested in making small talk with a man who’d been drinking at such an early hour, especially under these particular circumstances. Once we were both seated, I took my journal and a pen out of my satchel and jotted down the date and time. “As we discussed on the phone, I’m here to talk to you about an allegation that came into our office early this week.”

  “Yeah, I remember … but like I told you on the phone, that shit wasn’t true. I’ve never had my daughter blow into my breathalyzer for me, and I don’t drink and drive anymore. I learned my lesson about that shit.”

  “Do you have any idea why someone would make a report like that?”

  “I got no fucking idea. If I had to guess, I’d say it was my daughter who made that shit up,” he snapped.

  “And why would she do that?”

  “Cause she got pissed at me and decided to make up some bogus story to get back at me.”

  “Okay.” I did my best to keep my tone nonthreatening as I asked, “Why was she angry?”

  “Well … she … uh …” he stammered, “she was late coming home from school, so I grounded her.”

  I took a moment to write down what he’d said, then asked, “How late was she?”

  “An hour or so.” He cleared his throat before saying, “She had me pretty worried.”

  “I’m sure. Did she mention why she was late?”

  “I don’t know. Something about missing the bus.”

  I knew he was lying. I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes, so I kept pushing. “If she missed the bus, how did she get home?”