Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1

by Manda Mellett

  Slick takes out his smokes, and Blade snatches the pack, making me grin and remember another enforcer in another club. He offers one to me, but I shake my head. I’d only started smoking at the beginning of my journey, and with a couple of weeks off the poison, feel no need to go back. I notice Drummer looking at me approvingly.

  The respect of my brothers was something I’d lost. It overwhelms me that I’m starting to regain it. But there’s still a long way to go. I’ve caught them watching me carefully at times, as if wondering if anything is going to set me off. And I’ve rightly gained the reputation of being an impatient patient. Something I’m consciously trying to control.

  Blade lights up and inhales. As he blows out smoke his eyes fix on me and narrow. “What’s the story with the cop?”

  I knew it was coming. I’d broken club rules by speaking to Marc one-on-one, and on more than one occasion. What punishment are they going to give me?

  “What I want to know,” Blade breaks off to take a drag then continues, “is in any of your cosy little chats, did you talk about club business?”

  I can answer that easily. “No.”

  Blade looks over at Peg, then at the VP and Prez. He inclines his head, passing the floor to Drummer.

  “We’ll take your word for that, Brother.” Drummer’s eyes scan the room. “I’m comfortable from talking to both Heart and the cop that their conversations were kept on the personal side and out of our business to the greater extent. They didn’t discuss the club, except for the puzzle about who threw explosives into her house.” His stare is still making sure we’re all paying attention. “I think I’ve convinced her we’re well clear of that.”

  Blade nods at him, then takes over again. “Whatever it was between you ends now, Heart. No more communication. She’s a fuckin’ cop and we’re bikers. Not taking a chance on any more friendly conversations.”

  I knew that was coming. “Already had this out with Drum, Blade. Crystal’s the only woman that I ever wanted to be mine, and that ain’t changing just because she’s no longer around. Marc helped me get through a bad situation, but that’s all there is to it.” I’m telling them what I’ve always known, but the image of a blond woman in my hospital room, her eyes full of concern that comes to my mind so easily, remind me I’ll miss her, even though she was just a friend.

  Part of me feels guilty. She’s as lost as I am. As good as she was for me, I reckon I’d started paying it back in kind. I’m sure there’s more I could have done for her. I try to make them understand the solid she did me. “Marc saved my life. If it wasn’t for her, I might not be here. She pulled me back from the brink.” I’ll never forget that day in Death Valley. While I’d been laid up, I’d checked it out and found there can indeed be odd pockets of reception dotted around the desert, but what a coincidence that I happened to be in one when I received that call. Someone must have been guiding me, there’s no other explanation for it. And the coyotes. She saved me. I shiver, thinking how closely I’d skirted the edge between this world and the next, and how I’d nearly come to being pulled over. It’s then I notice Mouse looking at me, as if he can read my mind.

  Tongue shifts guiltily in his chair. “We should have been there for you, Brother.”

  “Don’t go there, Tongue. You had no choice. You’d have been within your rights to send me out in bad standing, or fuck it, take my patch and my life. I disrespected the club and would have deserved any punishment. You went easy on me.” As others still look uneasy, I sit as far forward as I can. “Look at me. I’m back. I might not be the Heart you remember, but I’m the man who’s undertaken a journey, a man who’s learned about himself on the way. You did the best that you could. I’m not accusing any brother of doing wrong or not doing enough to help me. All I’m saying is that when I needed it, Marc was there to pull me back up.” Sometimes I wonder whether Crystal had a hand in that, somehow, from somewhere, making sure support was at hand.

  “And for that, Brother, we’re helping her,” Prez announces, and my eyes shoot to him. “But there are strings attached. You’re to have no contact with her, or if in the unlikely circumstance that you have to, it will be with the lawyer or another brother tagging along.”

  That’s fine by me. There was nothing between us that anyone else shouldn’t hear.

  “You didn’t want it anymore, and its security’s the best. I’ve seen her and talked to her. The outcome is, she’ll be staying in what was your house. It’s in her name now. We’ll help her out by letting her off half of the rent. And, for now, I’m keeping a prospect on her.”

  My eyes widen then my brow furrows. “You checking up on her?”

  Prez smooths his hand over his beard. “No. Though it might be useful to know what she does. But no, Heart. I don’t like that someone tried to kill her and failed. Chances are they might try again.”

  Blade doesn’t look convinced. He frowns. “Don’t like spending club resources on protecting a cop.”

  Drum pauses his hand and his eyes narrow. “Hear what you’re saying, Blade, but leaving aside what she does as a job, playing her part in bringing our brother home is a fuckin’ good favour she’s done for the club. Now I’m prepared to vote on this if there’s any dissention.”

  “I’d vote we do what we can.” Wraith rests his forefinger against his nose. “She brought our brother home.”

  Slick lifts his chin. “I like her, Prez, if we ignore what she is. The way she rode that bike and caught up with us.”

  “Damn good-for-nothing Suzuki rat.”

  “Left you for dust, Peg.”

  Peg snarls.

  Yup. Fucking good to be back. I can’t hide my grin. “I’m sorry I missed that.” That earns me a glare from the sergeant-at-arms. “You know my thoughts, I personally owe her. If she doesn’t get club backing, I’ll find some way to help her myself. Keeping well in the background,” I add quickly, seeing the look on Drummer’s face.

  “I owe her my thanks, Prez,” Slick continues as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Got me my last Demon. Felt fuckin’ fantastic to go home to Ella and tell her all those fuckers were dead.”

  In my opinion, no one was more deserving of a painful demise than that sadistic Scratch. I can’t resist, having heard all the stories. “You cut off his dick, Slick?”

  As Slick stays dumb and simply winks, Mouse starts to speak. “I’m happy for us to help, Prez. Slick and I thought about going over there to discuss security. She’ll be getting a new laptop, and I’ll be checking to see whether any tracking software is on it,” he grins, “and giving her some lessons about staying safe while she’s browsing.”

  Drummer looks thoughtful. “Can’t have her drawing more attention to herself.” He looks at me. “I tried to dissuade her, but she seems intent she can’t let this drop. Yeah, Mouse, you make sure she can hide her tracks.”

  That’s something that worries me. “Prez, I don’t think she’ll be able to help herself. She wants to put criminals away. If she thinks her partner and her sergeant are dirty, she won’t stop until she’s proved what’s going on.”

  “She got a death wish or something?” Peg growls.

  I think deep down she might have, and I understand the reason for that very well. I close my eyes briefly, then reopen them.

  Prez is tapping the desk with his fingers. “What’s worrying me is that link back to the other killings the night Archer met Satan. Flipside of the coin of helping her is that we can keep an eye on what she’s doing.”

  “If she gets too close, we could take her out.” Blade speaks while using his knife to clean his nails.

  If I could get to my feet, I would. I can only bang my injured hands down as hard as I can onto the table. “We ain’t fuckin’ doing that!”

  “You gonna find some other way of stopping her, Heart? If what she finds can hurt the club?” Prez pulls me up short. Glancing at his raised brow, I just return his stare. Whatever he’s thinking, he must know I’m never going to agree to having her killed. Afte
r a moment he tunnels his hands through his hair. “She ain’t got a reporting line that she knows will support her. If we’re right and her sergeant’s dirty, he won’t want to know who questioned Archer, as it might get out exactly what he’d been doing there.” To rape young kids he means. “They won’t want to question the club.”

  “A couple of cops can’t take out the Devils.” Joker laughs.

  Peg glances down the table. “No, but if they’re in league with the Herreras…”

  Now I’d been in a coma when the club came face-to-face with Tucson’s crime family. From what I heard, it was a cordial arrangement. But I’m not so stupid as to think that couldn’t change at any time.

  Drummer’s frowning, his brow tight. “Heart’s Marc has brought some things to our attention. Without her curiosity we’d have remained in the dark. We can’t afford not to take them seriously. Firstly, she mentioned Jayden, and that Archer reported her missing.” I glance at Slick, but he’s obviously already been prewarned. “That might be an issue that died with the man.”

  “Not taking any chances, Prez. I’ve got eyes on her all the time.”

  “No fuckin’ change there, Paladin. She’s barely ever out of your sight.” Dollar grins, sparking chuckling and lewd comments around the table. Since I’ve been back I’ve seen them together, many times, always in some game of pool or whatever. But I’d been out of it and then away when everything had gone down and still don’t know the extent of the relationship between Paladin and the young teenager.

  “Still got three fuckin’ years,” Prez points at Paladin. I promise myself I’ll ask a few questions and find out what they’re talking about.

  Slick glares and the chatter dies down. Then he coughs and takes charge of the situation. “As Paladin said, we’ve got her covered. Don’t know if it’s a worry or not now Archer’s dead, but not taking any fuckin’ chances with Ella’s sister.”

  Road, who’d apparently been patched in a few months back, waves his hand. “Any extra help you need, I’m there.”

  Slick thanks him.

  Drum raps his hand again. “Then there’s the problem of the two dirty cops, or at least, two that we know of. Who’s keeping them in their pocket, and why? Think you can look into that, Mouse?”

  Mouse looks at him confidently. “I’ll have a fuckin’ good try.” He glances at me. “Your woman might be right, Heart. There might be something if she keeps going through the records, linking cases which haven’t been tied up. I’m gonna set up some software so she can keep digging without leaving her footprint behind.”

  I start to open my mouth to refute that the implication that she’s mine, but don’t get the chance.

  “Sounds like a plan.” Prez looks pleased for a moment, then frowns. “Need to know who’s paying them, and to do what. Mouse, happy if you stay close and keep her onside. Encourage her to share what she finds with us.”

  “I’ve got ways, Prez. This time I’ll be the one doing the tracking.”

  I clench my jaw. It should be me that’s close to her, not my brother, but they’re keeping her well out of my way. As I’ve already agreed, I can’t protest now.

  Blade spins his knife, then looks up. “As long as we’re not the target, should we care what she’s doing?”

  Prez nods. “Yeah, Blade. I get your point, but for now, we can’t rule out that we’re not. And Heart, I hear what you said. But she’s a cop, and if she gets a hint of something we’re involved in, do you really think your relationship with her is gonna make her stop?”

  I stay quiet, unable to reassure him.

  “They’re trying to link the explosion on Marc’s house to the explosion at Lucas’s, where Archer was killed.” Slick is also looking concerned. And he would. He made the bomb that incinerated Lucas’s house. “I don’t much like the thought of fingers being pointed at me.”

  Marvel tosses me a look of apology. “If this detective of Heart’s has already connected Slick to the bombing, isn’t it more of a risk keeping her breathing?”

  Again, I wish I could fuckin’ stand. But I can do nothing, and a growl emanates out of my mouth. If I could use my legs, Marvel would feel my fists.

  “Marvel’s got a point.” And now Shooter’s joining in. “Got to think of the club, Prez.”

  Now Viper’s opening his mouth, but Drummer bangs the gavel. “Shut the fuck up.” All mouths snap closed.

  He stares around the table. “Firstly, she doesn’t know that Slick built the first bomb. She’s only going through the list of possible suspects, and of course, we’d be near to the top.” He pauses to let that sink in. “Secondly, the bitch came with us to LA. She witnessed what went down at the Demon Sons’ club. Fuck it, she took one of them out herself. We couldn’t have found Heart without her coming to us, and might not have gotten to him in time had she not helped us out. Bitch put her job on the line… for the fuckin’ club.” He pauses to let that sink in. When he’s satisfied we’ve taken on board his meaning, he continues with a glance toward me. “I trust her. From LA alone, she’s got evidence to pull this club under, but she hasn’t used it.”

  “Yet,” Viper grumbles.

  “She wants to put the bad guys away.” I remember what she told me.

  “And we’re not the fuckin’ bad guys?” Rock’s eyes widen.

  “No. Not in her eyes.”

  “Fuck, Prez. We must be doing something wrong.” Now everyone laughs.

  Drummer’s looking at me strangely, as if something I’d said had struck a chord. Then he focuses his steely eyes on the rest of my brothers. “Then let’s help her put the bad guys away, cops or whoever they are.” After a short pause he continues, “I hear what you all say, brothers. Club vote needed to continue to keep Detective Marcia Hannah out of harm’s way. Peg?”

  The sergeant-at-arms gives a thoughtful aye. It’s not a quick vote, and one of two look like they’re wavering, but in the end it’s all ayes, and Beef records it.

  Leaving my personal investment aside, I must admit it’s a strange day when the club votes to extend their protection to a cop.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marc…

  “Detective Hannah. Are you giving me your full attention?”

  Guiltily, I bring my eyes back to Sergeant Reynolds. I haven’t really been listening to all the excuses as to why after another two months’ recuperation he still doesn’t consider me fit enough to return to my job, despite a doctor’s letter declaring me fit. Yeah, I still get the occasional headache which can be debilitating when they hit, but little more than anyone who suffers from migraines. Most days I visit the gym and am probably the most in shape that I’ve ever been.

  “What about putting me on light duties if I can’t do my full job?” Though, with Mouse’s help, I’ve got a lot to occupy me. I am getting bored staring at the same four walls and having little to no interaction with other human beings.

  “I want you to see another doctor—an occupational therapist.”

  Why doesn’t he take the word of my own?

  “It’s only out of concern for you, Hannah. Please understand that. I don’t want you back until you’re ready.”

  What can I say? My hands are tied, so all I can do is agree to meet with the professionals he’s suggested who, I suspect, will say what he wants to hear. It’s obvious there’s something other than concern in his desire to keep me away from active duty.

  Strangely enough, I’ve had no support at all from the department, either investigating the incident that almost killed me or during the time I’ve been recuperating. It’s only due to outlaw bikers that I can feel safe in my own home, and, having received instruction from Mouse, can safely delve into the police files without leaving a sign of what I’ve been doing. I was amused to discover the software he installed was developed by a sheikh’s wife who’s apparently an expert hacker.

  What I’m working on could get me fired, but as my eyes fall on the seedy countenance of my sergeant who, I’ve become more and more convinced is
as dirty as they come, I feel no remorse. As I’ve been rapidly learning, sometimes justice can’t be served by playing by the rules.

  “I’m sorry, Sergeant.” I put my hand to my head.

  As expected, he takes my gesture to mean I’m in pain, and a justification for the news he’s given me today.

  I’m dismissed shortly after with insincere wishes for my continued recovery, and as I pause outside his closed office door, I wonder whether he was behind the attempt to kill me. It seems unbelievable, but I can’t think why he’s still blocking my report about Archer. And as for my erstwhile ex-partner, while I’ve been on sick leave, the remains of Archer were buried with full honours. Now that was a ceremony that would have been interesting to attend, just to see who turned up.

  I leave the building, go to the parking lot and get on my bike, picking up my shadow soon after. I know Drummer arranged for me to be followed for my protection, but damn it, it restricts what I can and can’t do. Wherever I go, Drummer will get wind of it.

  But he’s forgotten what my rat bike is capable of.

  A Harley’s got good speed on the straight, but even so mine beats it hands down. As for the cornering? I can almost lay mine down. I take the prospect, Hyde, on a ride to remember, hoping he’ll give up rather than come off his bike. Soon he’s far back in my rear view, and only seconds later, nowhere in sight.

  Now riding more carefully, constantly checking behind me, I drive down town to the business district, pulling up outside an eight-storey building which looks like any other office complex. But this isn’t anything so innocuous, this is where the Herreras’ legitimate side of their business is conducted. Tucson’s major crime family with strong connections with Los Zetas, the cartel. Perhaps I’m being stupid coming here on my own, as Archer was related to the Herrera family, but Leonardo Herrera has a reputation for being, even in his decidedly crooked sidelines, a straight arrow.

  Backing my bike into the kerb, I switch off the engine, pausing for a second to again question the wisdom of my choice coming here alone without the benefit of a trusted partner. But I’ve gotten frustrated, having gone as far as I can with my investigation. Now I need answers from the horse’s mouth. Setting my features into a look of determination, I enter the innocuous looking reception area.