Sniffing the air, I get a tang of some kind of perfume covering the odours of beer and sex. I smile and nod; she’s being friendly enough.
Again, she looks down at her cup. “I know what Viper gets up to. I also know he’s faithful to me in his own way.” She huffs a mirthless laugh. “Probably was a shock seeing your father for the first time in a compromising position. Hardly a good introduction.”
First off, I think it’s strange she’s started with that, but then it’s got some of the awkwardness out of the way right from the start. I would have been wondering if she knew. It seems it’s going to be full disclosure.
“I didn’t come here to cause any trouble, Sandy.” Rubbing my hand over my face, I understand I need to make an apology. “I wasn’t thinking about the effect it would have on his life. I thought it would be simple, come here and introduce myself. If he didn’t want anything to do with me, I’d have been gone.” I lean slightly toward her. “And I would have been if I hadn’t had trouble with my bike.”
Her lips curl up. “God works in mysterious ways.”
“He does that,” I agree.
Now she’s looking at me again; her eyes are grey, a similar colour to my mother’s. “Viper and I couldn’t have children.”
“He told me.” I can’t meet her gaze, knowing how much they both wanted them.
“Your mom must have been a brave woman, going it alone like she did.”
“She didn’t have much choice.” For something to do, I pick up the beer and drink. The memory of my mom is still too raw.
A hand comes out and covers mine. “I’m sorry you lost her, Sam.”
I manage to choke out a thank you, a practised response for any sympathy shown.
“You look like him.” She’s noticed, like Drum did.
“I’m sorry.”
“But it makes it easier, you know?”
I don’t, so my brow furrows as I look at her.
“I love him. He wants to get to know you, and I’d like that too. I know you won’t want a new mother, but perhaps we could be friends.”
It’s a gracious offer. I’d been thinking I’d remind her of everything she couldn’t have, and here she is reaching out to me. That must have been the trigger, as all of a sudden, I have tears rolling down my eyes. Sandy gets up out of her chair and is wrapping her arms around me. Then she starts crying too, letting me know that while she might not be my mom, she’s not going to stop me from getting to know my father. If she can overlook his extracurricular activities, then perhaps so can I.
I start to learn how this place works. Suddenly we’re surrounded by the other women, a bottle of vodka appears, is opened, and poured into shot glasses, and two are pushed toward us. The women sit down and also take a glass, with the exception of Sophie.
When Wraith’s woman sees me looking at her quizzically, she winks, then gives a little shake of her head. Ahh.
Chapter Sixteen
Drummer…
“Seems like we joined in time for the action.” Our new brother, Joker, takes a chair at the end of the table. “It always this hot down here?”
I doubt he’s talking about the Arizona climate. “Before we had trouble with the Rock Demons, we’d had it quiet for years.” But he’s right. We’ve certainly had more than our fair share of trouble lately.
Lady’s clicking his fingers. “Looking forward to having some excitement.”
Rock tugs his ear. “I’d rather it kept fuckin’ quiet.”
My brothers have said nothing with which I can’t wholeheartedly agree.
“Drum, you’ve got one fine woman there. She did fuckin’ okay, yeah?” Dart’s looking impressed, I wonder whether I should voice my objection to the ‘your woman’ part. Sure, I’m interested in fucking her again, though certainly not thinking about making anything permanent, but Viper’s glaring at me, and after what went down last night, I decide it would be smart to let it ride. For now.
Instead, I rap my fingers on the table. “She rode like a fuckin’ pro. Understood every hand gesture.” I shake my head at the memory. “None of you fuckers could have done much better.”
“She done anything like that before?” Peg leans forward and cocks his eyebrow.
“I don’t know. But she’s obviously got some experience of riding in a pack.”
“Not sure I like a bitch on a bike.”
Dart throws a balled-up piece of paper at Tongue. “Get over it, man.”
“Hey, Dart, throw a smoke over.”
“When the fuck you going to start buying your own?” While complaining, Dart gets out his pack and rolls it over to Blade.
Blade smirks. “I’ve given up.”
“No, you fuckin’ haven’t!” Dart throws him an incredulous look.
Well, he has in a way. He’s given up buying them. But I can’t let them get into that shit right now. I’ve got to bring it back to business. “Right, we’ve got to work out who the fuck came after us and damn near killed me and Sam.” My voice is loud, drawing their focus.
Rock looks thoughtful. “You sure it was you, Prez?”
“That seems the most likely.” Though obviously, I don’t know for sure, but who the fuck would be after Sam? That doesn’t make sense.
“She’s used to riding at least two up, maybe she’s been in with a club before?”
Now it’s Viper who answers Bullet. “She doesn’t know much about club life, so I doubt it. And she doesn’t seem to be the type of girl who’d attract that kind of attention. I agree with the prez, they were after him.”
“Rock Demons?”
I notice Wraith’s bouncing in his seat, just the thought agitating him. It was the now defunct Rock Demons who’d taken up a contract to try and take Sophie from us. He certainly has no love for them.
I tap the table as I think aloud. “We saw, what, two, three get out when we destroyed their clubhouse? None of them were one of their officers. We took that club down good and fuckin’ proper.”
“Up,” Slick corrects, shooting his hands in the air. “We blew it to fuckin’ pieces.” But even he’s not smiling; we killed a lot of men that day. That’s why, in the end, we’d let the ones who escaped the inferno go. Was that a mistake that’s coming back to bite me?
“I’ve not gotten any intel they’re gathering again. Mouse?”
“Heard nothing, Prez. The other chapters disowned them. If they’re planning something, they’re doing it rogue.”
Hmm. “So if we don’t think it’s the Rock Demons, who else is fuckin’ gunning for us?”
Head shakes and shrugs come from all around.
“You kept your dick where it should be, Prez?” Everyone except Viper laughs, and I treat the comment with the disdain it deserves, especially in light of the events of last night.
While all the brothers have to leave their phones outside church, as president I’m the exception and have mine with me. When I feel it vibrate in my pocket, I’m tempted to ignore it, but as the talk is going around in circles, I decide to at least have a look at the number that’s calling. I don’t recognise it.
Leaving them discussing who we could have picked up as an enemy, I discreetly glance at the number displayed, but it’s reading ‘No caller ID’. Intrigued, I decide to answer.
I bang the gavel and wave the phone. “I’m gonna take this.” I wave my free hand and they lower their tones. Wraith’s looking at me with interest, Peg’s arms are folded as though he wants to get on with the debate. Hoping it’s not someone trying to sell me life insurance, I answer.
“Speak to me.”
“Drummer?” It’s a low, gravelly voice that I don’t recognise.
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
“Jason Deville.” He pauses while the information sinks in.
“I’m sorta in the middle of something right now.” I’d rather take this phone call in my office and have the chance to consider whatever job he’s going to offer us before bringing it to the table, but what he says next makes me reco
nsider that option fast.
“I expect you are… You’re discussing who came after you this morning.”
My eyes widen, and I gesture at the others for complete quiet. Putting my phone on speaker, I set it down on the table. I glance around at them, and nod at the phone. “Grade A’s Jason Deville here knows someone was after me this morning.” As various expressions of surprise come to their faces, I address myself to the man on the line. “Just what might you fuckin’ know about that?”
“I’m close to your compound. It’s probably best if we speak in person and not over the phone. I could be there in twenty minutes if you’ve got some time for me?”
Tilting my head, I look at Peg. He’s shaking his head. Not here, he mouths.
I think quickly. “We own a restaurant in town, The Wheel Inn—”
“I can find it.”
“We can meet you there in an hour if you want to talk.”
“Works for me.”
I end the call and sit forward, my hands steepled in front of me. I nod toward Mouse. “You know what you’ve gotta do?”
“On it, Prez.” He gets up and leaves.
“Peg, Wraith, you’re with me.”
“You want me there, Prez?”
I think for a moment. “Rather have you here, Blade, watching the compound. We’ve no fuckin’ idea what’s going on or what this fucker from Grade A wants with us. I don’t want to leave us light here.”
“Could Grade A be behind what happened this morning?”
It seems unlikely, but… “We can’t rule anything out right now, Wraith.” I bang the gavel. “Church fuckin’ dismissed. Peg, Wraith, let’s get going. I want to be there well before this fucker, Deville.”
We reach the Wheel Inn and park in line outside. Entering, Marsha, the civilian assistant manager who works under Sandy, greets us and shows us to a table in the corner. It’s that period between the lunchtime and evening rush, so the place is relatively empty. Enough tables filled to make us money, I’m pleased to note, but there’s an area around us that Marsha’s been able to keep clear. Wraith and I position ourselves with our backs to the wall. Peg, after having completed a round of the restaurant, joins us, sitting slightly off to one side.
“Anything?”
He’s been looking for someone looking out of place. “Nah, and Marsha says no one’s come in, in any particular hurry.” We’re wary that police or agents might have been planted inside, but Deville hadn’t been left with much time to arrange anything.
“Mouse?” Coming up to the table, Mouse gives a negative shake of his head. “Clean.” He’s been sweeping for bugs. “Want me to stay, Prez?”
“Nah, you can get back to the compound.” As he leaves, I discretely check the gun in my holster. I’ve one in my waistband as well, and one strapped to my ankle. Never hurts to be prepared.
“What d’ya reckon all this is about, Prez?”
Just as I’m about to say the obvious, that I have no fucking clue, a man walks through the door, my attention drawn immediately to the scar that crosses his face, pulling down on the corner of his eye, skirting the side of his mouth and ending just under his chin. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and looks nothing like how I’d expect a partner of Grade A to look. That he’s the man we’ve come to meet seems to be the case, when he scans the room. Checking the occupants, he notes us, then nods, then completes his assessment of the whole area. Apparently satisfied, he crosses to us.
His eyes read the patches on our cuts, and then he jerks his chin toward me. “Drummer.” It’s not a question, his powers of observation have shown who I am.
“Mr Deville.” I nod in response. I don’t offer my hand; I don’t know why he’s here. Even if he knows something about the attempt to kill me today, that doesn’t immediately make him a friend of mine.
“Devil. Folks call me Devil,” he states as he pulls out a chair to sit down. Instead of leaving it in position opposite me, he angles it to one side so with just a small turn of his head he can see most of his surroundings—a man used to watching his back.
“This place safe?”
“My man, Mouse, checked it before we got here.” It had been for our benefit, but he seems to need the assurance for his.
Peg sits forward. “You wearing a wire?”
Obviously not an unexpected enquiry, Devil pulls up his shirt and shows us he’s clean. His attitude, his concern that we won’t be overheard and his obvious vigilance glancing across to the doorway every few seconds starts me believing he’s kosher. But I’m still going to be careful with what I say.
“So, what’s this all about, Devil? What exactly do you know about the incident this morning?”
Marsha’s on her way over, so even though I asked a question, I hold up my hand to stay the reply and allow her to ask us if we want more drinks. When we’re all fixed up, I cock my eyebrow.
He takes the hint. “First, I’ll explain who I am. I am part owner of Grade A Security.” He waits for me to nod my confirmation that I’m already well aware of that fact. “Ben Carter and Jon Tharpe run the business on a day-to-day basis. I’m, er, more of a sleeping partner in that side. The kind of work I do is off the radar.”
I sit forward; it doesn’t hurt to ask directly. “You working for the feds?” I’m watching carefully for any reaction.
“Sometimes,” he admits. “And sometimes I do the groundwork before involving them. Things they wouldn’t take on.” He sneers. “Sometimes it’s too much like hard work for them, or they plead a lack of manpower. That’s where I come in, joining up the dots, picking up the pieces and putting them together. Then they come in for the kill and take all the glory.”
I sit back, folding my arms. “What have we got to do with this?” Is he looking to take down the club?
“Doing what I do, I keep my head down and out of sight. As I said, I don’t work for the FBI, but occasionally I do their work for them. Same as I do in other countries as well with their intelligence services. I don’t often work in the states; most of my time I spend in Europe.”
Peg clears his throat. “We’re interested in what happened today and what you know about it, not your fuckin’ life story.”
Devil gives a twisted smile; he doesn’t seem offended. “And so you should be. But to understand that, I need to take you back a little.” He pauses while the three of us gesture he should continue. “I’ve been working with various authorities, going undercover to try and break human trafficking rings—it’s the world’s third largest crime, as you probably know.”
“I didn’t know it was so big a problem.” Wraith is staring at him.
Devil nods. “Unfortunately, it is. It was when I was in France when I first picked something up that brought me to you… A girl.”
Peg smirks. “You had to go to Europe for that?”
I wave at him to be quiet.
Devil continues, “She was hurt, pretty badly beaten up. It was just luck I came across her in a Parisian alleyway. She begged me for help and I couldn’t refuse, especially when I heard her story.” He breaks off, and his gaze encompasses all of us. “She was American, trafficked as a slave. A very particular and expensive slave, chosen for the way she looked and that she’d been a virgin.”
So had Sam. Before last night. I shake my head, trying to get my mind back to the story Devil’s spinning. I thought I already knew as much about the skin trade as I wanted to know, and that wasn’t much. “I thought most trafficked people were girls picked off the street.” I’m having problems trying to understand what this has to do with us.
“Often they are. That’s why this ring’s different. Anyway, I helped get this girl settled. She needed a new identity before she could return to the states, as she was afraid for her life, or of being picked up again. I got her into witness protection. Then I started to look into the information she’d given me about how she’d gotten to Europe.” He picks up his beer, taking a gulp. “That’s what I was saying before. The intel she had was sketchy,
unbelievable. The person she’d been sold to untouchable. The FBI’s Human Trafficking Task Force tried to investigate, but the ring was always one step ahead of them. That’s where I came in.”
I’m starting to get interested, even if I have no clue where this is going or why it would have anything to do with us. Satan’s Devils would never be involved with trafficking. But a quick glance at Peg and Wraith show he’s caught their interest too. Could he be suggesting there was a mole at the FBI?
“Who’s paying you, Devil?” I want to know what’s behind this. No one works for nothing.
He shrugs. “I’m contracted to the feds. But Drummer, you’re going to have to suspend your suspicions and leave them aside for now, okay?”
I consider it and then give him the chin jerk he’s waiting for.
He returns my gesture and continues, “I’ve been working underground. Found this particular group who kidnap women on demand. They have a bloody shopping list of what they’re on the lookout for… Take their time fitting their precise requirements. The buyers pay top dollar when they get the right girl. Once they’ve collected who they want, they ship them out to their various customers using a variety of routes. They might use the same one twice, but not very often.” He pauses. “Sometimes they collect extra, and these go up for auction. Very exclusive auctions.”
As he raises his glass again, I find I’m disgusted but intrigued. I know such things go on. Fuck, some of the MCs I’m aware of have a hand in such practices, but never the Satan’s Devils. The very thought of taking a woman from her home and shipping her off to be used and abused fills me with utter horror. From the faces of my VP and sergeant-at-arms, it’s clear they share my view.
“I’ve managed to find out the next route they’re using is by way of Mexico, and they’ll be coming down through Tucson.”
Now I begin to get the drift of what he’s saying, but I start hoping I’m wrong. “And you’ve told the feds?”
“They’re aware, yes. But look, Drummer, I’ll be straight with you. I’ve been speaking to Ben, and he remembered you were in these parts and your club might be called on to help me intercept the transport, to stop them getting the girls to the border. I think when you hear the rest, you’ll agree to give your support.”
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