“Mommy,” Amy yells excitedly, as though she hadn’t just seen her only minutes before. I smile down into her hair, remembering the first time she’d called Marc that. My reaction hadn’t been good, I’d sent Marc away, accused her of appropriating a title that belonged to another. Yeah, we might have gone through hell to get where we are today, but it had only made us stronger.
Once I had my head on straight, I knew how lucky I was that Amy took to Marc at first sight. Marc’s done her best to keep Crystal alive for her, but I know my daughter’s memories of her real mom are fading. In my heart I know that it’s right. I’m grateful Marc stepped into that role for her, blown away by the size of my woman’s heart that anyone seeing us would know she loves Amy, as much as the babies she birthed herself.
Amy wriggles, now wanting to get down. After I let her slide down my body, it’s natural for me to reach out and take the nearest bundle, which happens to be Jacob, from Marc. In a similar unrehearsed movement, Marc’s free hand is there for Amy to now hang onto, while she simultaneously makes sure Isabel is firmly balanced on her hip.
“You ever worry it might come again?” I lean down and whisper into Marc’s ear, my head jerking to the burned scrub around us. Amy’s concerns and the nightmare from last night, bringing my worries to the fore.
Her eyes narrow. “Maudlin thoughts today, lover?”
Moving my body slightly in front of her, I make her halt.
“I don’t, can’t, won’t lose any of you.”
Her eyes narrow. She gives a pointed look down at the little girl holding onto her hand, thumb in mouth looking up at us, her parents. A quick side to side movement of her head, lets me know this conversation isn’t for now.
“Amy.”
At the sound of the VP’s three-year-old daughter’s excited voice, Amy leaves us without a second look and runs to Olivia. Eli, Prez’s son, only a month or so younger, not far from her side as always.
Sam and Sophie have got shit for the children organised already. Marc happily leaves the twins with them, they’re eager to get down and start playing with their toys. All the paraphernalia around making the MC clubhouse look more like a nursery during the day. It’s good for Amy to grow up here, cousins to play with and keep her amused. That’s why we elected to build our house at the top of the compound. Already she’s on her tummy trying to interest the younger kids in some game.
I’m free to follow my woman into the kitchen.
“Heart?”
Or would have been, had my prez not waved me over.
“Later, babe,” I murmur into Marc’s ear, then in the other direction, “Yeah, Prez, what’s up?”
Chapter Two
“You gonna be free later on tonight, Heart?”
Drummer, the president of the Satan’s Devils MC, Tucson Chapter, takes his seat behind the large desk. On the wall to his rear is the huge flag we hang in all our chapters’ clubhouses, displaying the Satan’s Devils’ insignia. The same one as we wear on our cuts. Taking the seat indicated, I nod toward our sergeant-at-arms, Peg, then raise my chin toward Blade, our enforcer.
“I can be free,” I answer the prez. “What’s up?”
Prez nods at Blade, who kicks it off. “Might have an issue at Angels.” He pauses, then barks a laugh. “Fuck that, it’s not might, we have.”
The Satan’s Angels is the strip club we run in Tucson. I frown. If there’s any issue there, I would have thought I would be the last person to be asked to get involved. I haven’t been back there for almost three years, since I was lost in my madness caused by grief. Acted out of character, put my hands on a woman who wasn’t willing. Of course, it was all show. My cock had been dead since the moment I’d learned my wife had died. Wouldn’t have been able to get it up if I’d wanted to. But no one else had known that.
When Crystal had gone, my brothers had rallied around me. Never left me alone, not for one fucking minute. They were smothering me, their sympathy and concern overwhelming. They wanted to help me through my pain, I’d wanted to give into it, to follow my wife to her grave. I had to do something bad enough that they wouldn’t be able to forgive me, and which would either get me killed or kicked out of the club. At the time I hadn’t a particular preference between either option. Poor Tiff was the one I had used. As the memories assail me, I close my eyes, full of shame for the man I’d been then.
“Snap out of it, Brother. Know where your fuckin’ mind just went. That wasn’t you that night. Everyone knows it.”
Drummer’s grey eyes are decidedly steely. “You gonna spend the rest of your life avoiding the place because you fucked up when you were crazy with grief?”
I shrug. “Haven’t been back since, Prez. Yeah, I fucked up. Fucked up bad.”
“Time you faced it, then, Heart,” Peg’s gruff voice is loud. “Need someone to go down there, check shit out. Can’t spare anyone else.”
“Fuckin’ wish we didn’t have to,” Blade grumbles aloud.
Drawing air into my lungs, I sit up straighter. Sounds like there is a problem, I’ll be expected to step up and play my part to sort it out. Can’t continue expecting my brothers to make allowances for me. It has been three years since my wife died. About time I faced up to shit. If that means heading back to the place where I hit my lowest, so be it.
“Okay. Tell me what you got.”
“What we’ve got is a drug problem.”
Blade’s pronouncement makes me sit up straight. The Satan’s Angels has a good reputation. We treat, or had until I fucked things up, our girls well. We get and keep the best dancers as they come under our protection. In return, they give us all they’ve got. That doesn’t include dancing when they’re doped up with drugs. I run through the girls and what I remember of them. I come up with no-one I would suspect. From our discussions at church, I know there’s not been anyone new brought on board.
My brow knits. “Who’s using?”
“Not using, dealing,” snarls Peg.
Fuck. That’s even worse. As my eyes catch Drummer’s he doesn’t have to tell me that will start attracting the wrong clientele, and not those there to watch the dancers. We’ve got to nip that in the bud, before trouble knocks at the door. Get a bad rep for the wrong reasons will turn all the bonafide customers away. Probably bring us unwanted attention from the cops too.
“Who?”
Blade stares straight at me as he prepares to respond to my question as though he expects me to challenge his answer. He even pauses to take a breath, before saying the name, “Vida.”
I might not have gone to the strip club for more than a couple of years, but Vida’s one of our best dancers. I know, used to know, her well. Nah. Something’s wrong. It has to be. She’s solid. Isn’t she?
“What evidence have you got?”
“Philby’s been watching out. He’d had some suspicions, so kept a closer eye on things. Noticed last night, and before you ask, nah, he’s got no doubts.” Drummer’s tone shows he’s far from happy as he imparts what the bouncer has obviously said. “Can’t afford to lose our reputation. But,” he pauses, “she’s been with us a long time, Heart.”
Peg exchanges a look with the prez, then glances at me. “You up for talking to her?”
Pinching the brow of my nose, I suppose I’ll have to if I’m apparently the one they want to have words. Though why me, I’ve no idea. If someone’s needed to put the fear of God into her, I’m really not the right man, but there’ll be a reason they’ve asked me. Blade or Peg would normally be the ones to step up.
“I’ll sort it. You’re leaving it with me?”
The nods and chin lifts I get back show they expect me to deal with whatever I find in the way I think best. Drugs. Looks like I might be giving someone their marching orders tonight.
Satan’s Angels is a lucrative business for us. If our take goes down, it affects the pocket of every member.
Later that day, as I ride my bike down into Tucson, I admit t
o not feeling particularly charitable toward the dancer whose bad choices in life might fall back on us. I’ve planned to arrive at the strip club just before eight when it opens its doors to the public. Vida is a popular dancer, more than that, she’s taken it on herself to be a mother hen to the other girls. If she’s fallen over the edge, my worry would be the others might follow.
There’s room out front for me to back up and park against the kerb. I switch off my engine, but pause before swinging my leg over the seat. Looking at the unimpressive building in front of me, posters and outlines of girls presented by way of neon lights show exactly what patrons will find when they enter. It had been proposed that I would take over management of the Angels when Dart had transferred to San Diego, but I blew that, and in spectacular fashion. For a period of time after the loss of my wife, I’d have done anything to have left this life to join her. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tiffany still hated me for what I’d done. At least she’d been persuaded to stay as one of our dancers.
I don’t want to go inside, being here is bringing everything back. Now, happy with Marc and my new family, it’s hard to remember what had driven the man I’d been then, nor how desperate I’d felt. Or how upset when, instead of killing me as I’d deserved, my brothers had sent me away. Banned from the club for six months, space to get my head on straight. Despite all the odds, it had worked. Water under the bridge now, but when I’d returned to my senses, my feeling of shame had also come back. I’ve avoided anything to do with the Angels ever since. I wouldn’t be here out of choice, were it not for the instruction from my prez.
Taking a big lung full of air, I get off my Harley, pull back my shoulders and walk around to the rear entrance as the front doors will remain shut for a little while longer. I pause momentarily at the scene of my crime, now unable to believe the monster I’d become. Then, at last, step inside.
“Heart.”
Wouldn’t you fucking know it? The first person I meet is Tiffany. She’s one of our best dancers, and I had risked us losing her by my actions. Three years later an apology still seems inadequate. I need to say something, but don’t know where to start.
“Hey, how are the babies. Twins isn’t it?” Tiff gently puts her fist to my arm. “I bet they’re a handful. Boy and girl?”
Her friendly approach has got me back footed.
“Yeah,” I confirm she’s got everything right. “Jacob and Isabel. Fifteen months old now and starting to get into all manner of shit.” My lips curve briefly in the way of a proud father then, as rapidly, turn down as I frown. “Tiff, I…”
She waves her hand quickly. “Nah, Heart. Don’t go there. No need, okay?” She steps closer, her hand touches my arm again, this time in a barely there caress. “You weren’t you then, Heart. You were a man so burdened by grief he didn’t know how to live with it.” Her understanding is overwhelming. Her forgiveness, welcome, but unexpected. I’m still reeling when she continues, “Now, you don’t normally honour us with a visit. Anything I can help you with, Heart?”
Still struggling to put the past back in the box where it belongs, her enquiry pulls me back to the present, reminding me what I’m here for.
“Yeah. Is Vida around?”
The smile slips off her face, her reaction reaffirming the reason for my presence.
“She was in the dressing room last time I saw her. Want me to find her for you?”
“Please. Send her to the office?”
A nod, a curious look, then she walks off.
I’m glad that confrontation is over with, and that it had gone far better than I’d expected or deserved. I’ve a lightness in my step when I make my way to the office, nodding at Philby, bouncer-come-doorman, who’s just getting ready to open up. He’s not stupid, and by his grim expression, he knows exactly why I’m here.
I’m not left waiting long. In fact, I’ve barely time to get my ass in the chair when the door bangs open. It’s been almost three years since I’ve seen Vida. Of course, people age all the time, but the bags under her eyes barely concealed with makeup, and the extra lines on her face are more pronounced than I’d expected. Up on the stage though, it’s not her face the audience will focus on. I might have a woman, but I’ve haven’t totally handed my balls over, and I can appreciate her fit body well enough.
As I’ve taken a moment to study her, standing, with her back to the door, she’s been watching me. Suddenly her mouth twists, and her words are snarled out.
“Well, look what the cat’s dragged in. Didn’t think you’d have the fucking nerve to show your face here again. Thought after three years you’d got the message to never come back.”
Taken aback by her vehemence, I don’t answer. My silence appears to be taken as encouragement.
“Should have had your fucking balls for what you did. What did your club do? Didn’t punish you, just sent you on a fucking vacation instead.”
Not bothering to point out it was no vacation, that’s something you’d normally enjoy, I point to the chair opposite.
“Sit, Vida.”
She considers my request as though wanting to refuse, but the Satan’s Devils own the strip club, and therefore any member is technically her boss. With a loud huff, she at last obeys, sinking her barely clad body into the seat, and folding her arms across her ample chest. There’s challenge in her gaze as she looks at me, but when my eyes meet hers, she’s the one who looks away first.
Deciding the direct approach is best, I get straight to the point.
“Why, Vida? Why are you dealin’ in the club? Why risk everything you’ve worked for?”
Her mouth opens. I get ready to refute the denial that surely is going to come. Instead, her lips snap together again. Guess she thinks it’s best to stay dumb.
Sitting forward, I place my elbows on the desk, clasp my hands together to make a cradle for my chin.
“Five, six years, isn’t it Vida you’ve been working for us? You’re an asset to this club. Yeah, I’ve been sent to give you your marching orders. Yeah, I was an asshole the last time I was here, you’re right about that. My vacation you mentioned? Nah, wouldn’t describe it as that. A trip, time away to do some thinking. Not just to get my head straight, but to come back different than when I left. Different to before. I was given a chance, Vida. I took it.”
She leaps at my words.
“Does that mean you’re going to give me one too? You’re not going to sack me?”
“In my case, there was a prospect of restitution. In your case, I can see none.”
Her teeth worry her lip, her brow is creasing.
“I could stop.”
An answer, an offered solution. Too little, too late. She’d started, that was the crime. One that couldn’t go unheeded. I can tell by her expression her heart’s not in that response. I know enough of the world to know it’s probably not that simple.
I’d been wondering why Drummer had sent me of all people to do this task. Yeah, I’m called Heart, the name Crystal had given to me as in her eyes, I’d got a big heart, but I couldn’t be mistaken for a softie. I’m in an outlaw MC for fucks sake, but maybe, just maybe, my experiences had shown me that desperation could lead a man to do things he wouldn’t normally do. Maybe the same could be said for a woman. Maybe another brother would have told her to get her things and leave. Perhaps they wouldn’t have thought of asking the next question that leaves my lips.
“Why?”
Her arms unfold. Her hands fall to her lap, the fingers of one picking at the nails of the other. After seconds have passed, she looks up.
“Why do you think?”
She not only looks like she’s aged, she looks weary. As though life’s been beating her down. I’ve been examining her closely, noticing she also doesn’t look like she’s feeding a personal habit.
“You’re acting out of character,” I observe. “So, I ask again, why?”
“Money,” she finally replies. “Isn’t that what’s at the bot
tom of everything?”
“You needed money? You could have come to us.” A good employee like her? In a bind, the club might well have helped her out. “Talk to me, Vida.”
She sighs, then glances my way. I don’t remove my gaze from her, but I allow my features to soften. Maybe it’s because she knows I’ve lived through, and survived my own hell, that she at last, opens up.
“It’s my brother. He’s got in with the wrong crowd. Got hooked himself. Used what he should have been selling. I couldn’t come to the club. You’d never have paid his debt to a dealer.”
That I neither confirm or deny. Just wave my hand to get her to continue talking.
“He’s got to shift a hell of a lot more to make up what he owes, else they’ll, they’ll…” I fill in that blank for myself. “He asked me to help him out. Said this was the ideal place, and that it was only for a short while and I could be clever and wouldn’t get caught. I love him, Heart, he’s my brother, for all his faults. He’s the only family I’ve got.” She sinks into the chair a little further, remorse written all over her face. “I wasn’t going to sell on the streets, it’s dangerous out there. I didn’t want to bring trouble to the Angels, but…”
“But you thought you could get away with it.”
“It was only going to be until he shifted enough to pay back his debt.”
Breathing in deeply, I let out the exhaled air as a sigh.
“You know you would never sell that much, don’t you? I’d make a bet the amount to get them off your brother’s back kept increasing.” These kind of people never let you off the hook once they’ve got their claws into you. Satan’s Devils had got out of the drug business when Drummer had taken over the club, but we still know enough about what goes on. As Vida nods, I lean back, linking my fingers behind my head.
As the silence stretches out, Vida seems to slump. All the fight leaves her. She’d come in guns blazing, now she looks defeated. Ready to accept the inevitable. I allow thoughts to run through my head. If Vida leaves the Angels, we’re one fucking good dancer short. She’s popular with the punters and helpful with the other girls. Without the Angels, she’d probably have little option than to do what she, quite rightly, didn’t want to, sell those drugs, and possibly even her body on the street. Her brother? Well, odds are she’ll lose him anyway. His dealer might make an example of him, or he’ll die by accidental overdose or shit that’s cut badly.
Escaping The Shadows Anthology: Shenanigans'19 @ The West Midlands Book Signing. Page 5