Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1

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Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1 Page 145

by Manda Mellett


  Peg chooses the music, of course, and we’re treated to a night of Bob Seger. Whenever anyone attempts to put something different on, Peg chases them off. Fuck, I don’t care. I’ll miss the fucker and his strange eclectic taste of tunes.

  I do the rounds, saying my goodbyes to Wraith, who takes a moment to enlighten me on the ups and downs of being VP, and then move to Dollar, who tells me he’s always on the end of the phone to give help. Blade gifts me one of his knives, then stands waiting, expectedly, so I get my smokes out with a grin. I’m going to miss that tight-fisted asshole.

  Ella kisses my cheek, while Slick scowls and grunts. Tongue flashes his stud as he wishes me luck. Viper and Bullet shake my hand then pull me in for a hug. Rock nods his farewell, and Beef clenches his jaw and says I’ll be missed. Shooter and Paladin pause their game of pool to say they hope it all goes well. Lady and Joker tip their beers toward me, and Marvel spends a few minutes giving me the lowdown on his brothers who remain. As we speak, I watch and listen carefully, but there’s nothing to suggest he was a supporter of Snake, and Drummer’s already reassured me he’d come to that conclusion himself.

  Being kidnapped together helps form a special bond. When I approach Mouse, we exchange chin lifts, then both move at once, hugs and back slaps exchanged. He promises to be at my beck and call for anything Token can’t handle.

  When I come to the prospects who have their work cut out keeping drinks flowing, I toss them a glare, then grin, and say I hope everything works out for them. After all the dedication he’s shown to the club, I’ve got a sneaky feeling that Road might be patched in before his twelve months.

  Then I come to Drum, who gives me a penetrating stare. “This is what you want, Dart? I know we’ve got the paperwork sorted, but that’s all it is. Change your mind and I’ll tear it up in a minute. Gonna miss you, Brother.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot Alex, laughing with the girls. She’s holding the hand of the boy I’m going to adopt. “My ol’ lady’s my home, now, Prez. And it’s best for Tyler to move where he can get specialist help. The brothers in San Diego are a good bunch, and Lost is doing well as the prez.”

  “Got your work cut out there, though.”

  I nod, knowing that only too well, and inadvertently straighten my shoulders as I reply, “Seems I like a challenge.”

  “Always knew you had it in you, VP.” He surprises me by honouring me with my San Diego rank. “Only way an officer spot would open up here is if we lose a man, and I fuckin’ hope that’s not gonna happen, or is a long way off. But I want you to know, if it did, it would be your name I’d be putting forward.”

  I’ve always known Wraith, Peg, Blade, and Bullet had their roles for life. But I hadn’t known my name was next in line. That Drummer’s told me, chokes me up.

  Blinking my eyes rapidly, I try my mouth. “What about the secretary?”

  “Beef will carry on with it until Heart comes back, and then we’ll see.”

  I’m glad Drum’s not ousting Heart in his absence. That causes us to discuss my now Ronin brother for a second, and to wonder how he’s getting along. Then the prez is grasping my hand, and with his other arm comes around me. “You take care, Brother. Any advice or help you need, don’t hesitate to call, okay? I’m relying on you and Lost to knock that chapter into shape. And if things don’t work out, well, you’ve always got a chair around this table.”

  We hold each other for a few seconds, and I’m all but overwhelmed with emotion. This is the man who first gave me a home, who’d welcomed me to the brotherhood the day I got my prospect patch. When I pull away my eyes are wet, and his own look unnaturally bright.

  Then one side of his mouth turns up. “Best go and enjoy your party.”

  I start to look for Alex, my intention to join her, but then I remember one last thing I want to say. “Prez. If you’re ever on the lookout for a new prospect, that bouncer at Angels, Fergus, well he’s a good man.”

  Drummer raises his chin. “Appreciate that, Dart. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  I pause for a moment, swallowing down the rush of emotion that this is the last time I’ll be a brother in this chapter. Then I look to my future, standing with the other old ladies and a smile comes to my lips, and any regrets about transferring fade.

  Leaving the Tucson compound the next morning again gives me a moment of regret. The San Diego clubhouse isn’t situated in anything like such a nice spot as this one, and apart from the location, saying goodbye to the brothers who I spent the last six years with is difficult to do. But as I pull out of the gates following Alex’s car, I realise that from now on, wherever she is, that’s where I’m going to be. And when Tyler turns around and waves out of the back window, I raise my left hand and wave back. My son. There may be benefits for me in the transfer, but even more so for Tyler. There can be no doubt I’m doing the right thing.

  We pass through the checkpoint and soon afterward stop at a rest area to give Alex and the boy a chance to stretch their legs, then soon we’re off on the final part of our journey. And fuck me, when we arrive, it’s to find they’ve cobbled together a banner saying in big letters, “Welcome Home VP.” Fuck me, I’ve only been gone a few days, but of course now I’m here as a permanent fixture. I may have left one set of brothers behind, but I’m greeted here by another. And fuck it if knowing that VP handle is mine for keeps doesn’t give me a warm glow inside.

  The one upside to having lost a few members is that there’s more room here now, and I’m astounded to find they’ve already prepared two adjacent rooms, one just for Tyler. And that’s been decorated especially for him, the bed covering having a motorcycle pattern, and pictures of Harleys put up on the walls. Well, Drum had suggested he might want to become a prospect, and I reckon this lot here are already leading him in that direction.

  Holding on to my old lady, I bend down and laugh into her hair. “Hope you don’t mind our son growing up a biker, babe.”

  But she doesn’t laugh, just clutches my hand, and as Tyler excitedly explores his room she says, “I just want him to have the chance to grow up.”

  Her statement sobers me, and I vow to do all I can to ensure we address his health problems. Together.

  Then the next thing she says surprises me. “Who do you think did all this?” I’ve got a sneaking suspicion, but I’d rather not say. But then she goes on and answers her own question. “I reckon it was Eva, and if it was, I’m gonna thank her.”

  Now that had been bothering me, whether the women would get on or whether I’d need to step in and break up trouble, but after the last few nights in my bed, Alex seems to have grown in confidence and accepted she’s got no competition. As VP that’s going to make my life easier.

  “You’re a great ol’ lady.”

  She turns in my arms and looks up. “I’ll try, Dart. I’m new at this, remember.”

  She is, and she’s the first old lady at this chapter, or at least in recent years. I’ll give her all the support and guidance I can.

  “Hey, VP. Party downstairs to celebrate you officially taking the second spot. The three of you coming down?”

  Lost is standing at the end of the corridor, so I shout back, “Yeah, we’ll be there in a few.”

  “Party? Again?”

  “Seems that way, doll. You ready to meet all the crew?”

  She laughs. “Don’t think I’ve got a choice. Come on, Tyler, let’s go meet new friends.”

  I swear if anyone else puts their hand to my back I’ll have bruises, as I’m greeted the same way my Tucson brothers said their goodbyes. Pennywise is first, and when he leans in to give Alex a kiss, my growl makes him step back. He good naturedly laughs, and I introduce my woman to Salem and Bones. Then to Kink, Smoker, Snips and Blaze. Grumbler puts a welcome drink in my hands, and Token asks about Mouse, seeming grateful he’s got an offer of help if he needs it. Dusty and Scribe seem more settled now, and Brakes slaps me with oil-covered hands, then, noticing what he’s done, apologises and walks of
f hopefully to clean up.

  Niran’s behind the bar, and he raises his hand, grinning when he sees Alex and Tyler. Then the newest patched member, Al, now having, for a reason that escapes me, picked up the handle Deuce, appears and gives me his hand, thanking me for giving my vote that meant he got patched in. Apparently, they decided to wait awhile on Lloyd, but his time will come.

  And fuck me, that’s the lot. Oh, except for the said Lloyd and Dave, who are hovering and anxiously seeing to everyone’s needs.

  Alex leans into my side. “Happy?” I ask.

  “Happy,” she confirms.

  She’s happier still the next morning, when Celine rings her to say a letter has arrived for her. She tells her sister to open it and nearly drops the phone when she finds she’s going to get half-a-million dollars from Thompson’s life insurance policy. She ends the call unable to talk any longer, completely lost for words, and then jumps up and puts her arms around my neck. As my hands go to support her ass, she wraps her legs around my waist, with the predictable result that I’m immediately hard.

  “Dart, this means…”

  “I don’t know if it’s enough, babe. But it’s a good start. And the money the Tucson crowd will bring in from the poker run will boost it a bit more.”

  But will it be sufficient?

  As well as settling into the new chapter, Alex gets on with sorting things out. We get an early appointment, and only have to wait a few days before we’re spending most of a day at the hospital, with Tyler patiently going through all manner of tests that he must have had done before as the procedures seem familiar to the kid. Such a brave little boy, just turning his head when they stick yet another needle in his arm. After everything’s done, it’s the moment of reckoning, and while Tyler’s sorted with his iPad and happily playing a game at the nurses’ station, I stay with Alex as the consultant goes through our options.

  Dr Crowther is African American himself, and Alex has already told me he’s dedicated his life to dealing with the sickle cell condition, as he’d lost a member of his family to it. His compassion and understanding are clear by the expression on his face as we take seats across the desk from him. He’s got an open folder in front of him and more notes on the screen to his side.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Tyler.”

  Alex nods. “I had to go away.”

  “Yes, your physician in Tucson has been in contact with me.” He takes off his glasses and takes out a polishing cloth. “I don’t like the increase in Tyler’s episodes,” he says, almost conversationally as he cleans the lenses. When he replaces the glasses on the bridge of his nose, he directs his gaze to the woman at my side. “It’s time to do something, Mrs Thompson. We can’t put it off any longer. You know what might happen if those sickle cells cause a blockage in his heart. The other matter that I was going to discuss with you are the results of the transcranial ultrasound we carried out. Unfortunately, it showed Tyler is at a higher risk of having a stroke.”

  Alex grasps my hand and squeezes it.

  “If he were older, we could start medication, but there are contraindications if it’s given to someone of his age. I suggest we look at blood transfusions.”

  “Dr Crowther.” Alex’s voice sounds hesitant, “we’ve saved my daughter’s stem cells for this very reason, and you tested she was a match at the time. I want to look into doing a stem cell transplant.”

  He doesn’t immediately answer, just consults his notes, and then shakes his head. “Unfortunately, that path should have been explored some time ago. Stem cells are only considered viable for five years, and it was over six years ago that we harvested them.”

  “From what I’ve read, Doctor, new research suggests they could be viable a lot longer, even up to fifteen years.”

  I expect him to refuse to even consider it, but he taps a pen against his teeth.

  Alex continues, “It’s not that long past five years.”

  He tilts back his head and is silent. Then he looks at her again. “I’ll talk to the technicians. If they consider they’re still viable, then, yes, we can consider that route. Mrs Thompson, if you’ve looked into it, you must know that there’s a five to ten percent chance of Tyler not making it through the procedure. He’s going to need intense chemotherapy, which will destroy his own bone marrow first.”

  I start. I didn’t appreciate exactly how grim this was going to be. Turning to the woman at my side, I’m surprised she still looks set on this path. In fact, as her fingers slip away from mine, she leans forward and puts her clasped hands on the desk. “A stem cell transplant is the only cure for sickle cell disease. Medication and blood transfusions are only temporary help. He’ll have to continue with those for the rest of his life. And the chances are, with the problems that are already showing, his life span won’t be long.”

  “Yes, Tyler is symptomatic, which causes me concern. And which is why I’m even considering this path. When did his episodes start? Let me see.” He looks through the notes again. “He was only a few months old.”

  “He could suffer organ failure at any time. That’s what you told me when you first started seeing him. Something because of the hemoglobin levels in his blood.”

  The doctor nods. “It does concern me he was showing signs of being very anaemic today. I expect you’ve noticed him getting easily fatigued. As you know, some sickle cell sufferers don’t show symptoms of their condition, but Tyler does, and he is getting worse. Now we come to the hard part. If we go ahead with the transplant, you know how serious it is. He’ll have to come in before, and he’ll be hospitalised for between one and two months afterwards. Possibly up to three if he has complications and it's expensive. Will your health insurance cover it?”

  Alex shakes her head. “No, and I’m not even certain about what happens with the policy now, or whether Tyler’s still insured. My husband has just died.” She explains why the policy may have lapsed. “But they previously said they’d pay for treatment, but not the transplant.” As she explains, her mouth twists. I’m incensed yet again that a man in a suit distanced from reality made that decision based on cost.

  The doctor looks sympathetic, but I know the next words out of his mouth will have to do with the money. But Alex forestalls him. “The good news is, I’ve got half-a-million dollars in life insurance to come, and,” she glances at me and smiles, “a bit more on top of that.”

  She’s referring to the poker run. But there’s something else we need to look into. Why it hadn’t occurred to me before I don’t know, but suddenly I remember Thompson owned the house that his girlfriend is living in. That must belong to Alex now, as he died intestate.

  “We’ll find whatever’s necessary,” I inform him in my most confident voice.

  He looks at me, as if to check my sincerity, and what he sees must satisfy him. He nods. “If that’s the route you wish to explore, I believe you already understand, we can’t perform a blood transfusion or do anything else to help him right now. I suggest you go away and think long and hard about the matter. You’ve a lovely boy, but he is at the risk of organ failure or stroke, and if we don’t take this option, he will need regular blood transfusions and medication when he’s older. All of which will mean constant medical monitoring and, I’m afraid, expense. I have gone through with you before all the other health issues he could be looking at in his future.”

  Alex nods, she must already know.

  “While you’re thinking, I will do my own research on the likely viability of your daughter’s cells, and we’ll meet once again when I have determined the position.” He stops and looks at me. “I’m glad you’ve got a friend to support you. In all the time you’ve been coming here, you came on your own.”

  I reach for her hand again. “Alex and Ron were separated for a long time before his death. We will be getting married, and Tyler will be my son. I care for him too and want to be fully involved.”

  Alex turns sharply; I give her an apologetic smile. Well, I suppose it was a bit
audacious of me to assume anything, and I should have asked her before announcing it to her doctor like that. But she’s agreed to be my old lady, and I take that even more seriously than a ring on her finger.

  “Married? Hmm. And will you be considering more children?”

  “Yes,” Alex says firmly.

  “No doubt you know, Mr…?”

  “Lowe,” I tell him. “Colin Lowe.”

  “Well, Mr Lowe. You’ll need testing to see if you carry the sickle cell gene.”

  I’m surprised. “But I’m white, Caucasian.”

  “I might need to clean my glasses every so often, but I can see that quite clearly.” The doctor chuckles at his own joke. “It’s a fallacy only certain races have the trait. Blacks, Asians, and Hispanics are more likely to be affected, but I assure you, Whites can be carriers too. After all, thousands of years ago we probably all came from the same ancestors. And in the circumstances, I’m sure Mrs Thompson will want to take every precaution now that she knows what she’s dealing with.”

  “I’ll get tested today.”

  He smiles. “It will take a bit longer than that, but I’ll make a note to get the appointment set up as soon as I can. I know how important this will be to you both. My office will be in touch to set up an appropriate time when we can meet again. In the meantime, Mrs Thompson, any issues which worry you about Tyler, bring him straight in.”

  “What about his anaemia?”

  “Just keep him quiet and feed him a well-balanced diet. His type of anaemia often rights itself on its own.”

  I take Alex’s hand as we leave the office. Once outside, she pulls on my fingers. “You want to marry me?”

  I give her a sly glance. “Yeah. You gonna say yes?”

  She considers it for a moment, but I reckon she’s just kidding. “Only if you go down on one knee and give me a ring.”

  “Yeah?” Impudent minx. “Any particular ring you prefer?”

  “Nope.”

  Hmm. Seems like I need to find one myself.

 

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