Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1

by Manda Mellett

  As the president continues to stare at Heart in challenge, at last Heart’s arms loosen around me. Stepping forward, I immediately miss the warmth at my back.

  “Leave…” Drummer seems at a loss for words as he jerks his chin toward the bundle I’m still holding.

  “Grunt.”

  “Well fuck me.” The first grin comes to his face but slides away just as quickly. “Leave Grunt here.”

  Heart takes the pup from me, his nod and the way he’s rubbing behind the pup’s ears tells me I can trust him with my new dog. As Drummer turns and Wraith steps up to his side, I follow them into the president’s office.

  Drummer shuts the door behind him and takes his seat behind the large desk. My eyes look behind him to the large Satan’s Devils’ logo hanging on the wall, ensuring I can’t forget where I am. A shiver runs down my spine. As far as they’re concerned, I’m a cop, in the office of the president of an OMG.

  Those piercing grey eyes seem to see right through me. “What do you know about our club?” His tone is chilling, no comfort there.

  I raise my shoulders then lower them, understanding what he’s asking. “Not a lot.” I pause, but it will come as no news to them. “The police think you should be disbanded, but otherwise I haven’t learned anything at all. Apart from slurs on your characters, and a general warning to look out for you, there’s no particular interest in the Satan’s Devils.”

  I haven’t told them anything they don’t know already. Exchanging glances with Wraith, Drummer’s attention turns back to me. “Okay, time for a bit of a history lesson. Club was started in the early seventies by my old man and a few of his friends after they came back from the Vietnam War. They were young, disillusioned, had seen war at its worst and the kickback against it here. They didn’t return to recognition as heroes, and had no support for the PTSD that they suffered, as was usually the case back in those days.”

  It’s a common story. I nod. Even the fallen weren’t honoured until the end of the decade.

  “Society didn’t want them, so they settled into living outside of your citizen ways.” Drummer’s mouth twists as he remembers. “I was born into the club. Prospected along with my brothers, earned my place as a member. A few didn’t make the grade. Things were more violent then. We earned money different ways. Whatever you learned of OMGs,” Drum spits the term law enforcement uses, “in your training applied more to the sort of club my father, as president, ran. Drugs, guns, and prostitution. Something needed to change, no doubt about that. The original members began to die off, some from old age, some from bullets.

  “I and a few of my brothers wanted change from within. The new generation started to build slowly. We were making good progress until a new member arrived.”

  I start to get a feeling I’m not going to like what he says. There’s a reason he’s going over old ground.

  “The sting operation was a long one. Smart, his name was. He’d shown from the start he had some intelligence, college degree and all.” Drummer taps his fingers against his mouth. “I was beginning to think once he patched in that I’d get him on the side of the reformers.”

  Now he stands up, as though the memories are too hard to talk about sitting down and relaxed. I say nothing to interrupt him.

  “Once the fucker got his patch, we brought him to the table. Let him in on every fuckin’ thing we were doing.”

  “He was a plant.” It’s obvious.

  “Yeah. He was a fuckin’ snitch.” His eyes meet mine, and not in a good way. “We got word something was going down at the strip club, the one we owned before Angels. Me and some of the boys, Beef, Digger, Peg, Dollar, Viper, and Tongue, who was still a prospect then, had gone to see what was going on. Fuckin’ cops were all over it, pulling it apart. Pulling us apart once we arrived. But we’d all had clean records and permits to carry concealed. Apart from our affiliation with the club, there was nothing to hold us on, but we spent a few nights in your jail while they tried their hardest to pin something on us.”

  Wraith also stands, as if to give his president support.

  “When we got out, well, we found a few changes. They’d raided the compound. Fuck knows what really went on. Three brothers arrested, eight others dead, including Bastard.” He pauses and looks straight at me. “Bastard, my father.” There is another second of silence. “The clubhouse was burned to the ground.”

  Oh my God. My hand covers my mouth. No wonder they don’t like the police. It’s surprising they even let me on to the compound. “When was this, Drummer? Have you still got members in prison?”

  I swear his eyes glisten as he turns to me. “It was fourteen years ago, now. And no, they were got to and murdered. All the old-timers are gone, except for those of us who went to sort out the strip club.” He stops speaking and rubs his eyes. “Some of the sweet butts were caught in the crossfire. When we had brothers still alive, I visited them in prison, heard the story. My mother had tried to protect her ol’ man.”

  Christ. It was a massacre. “You just carried on?”

  His fist hits the table. “We didn’t just fuckin’ carry on. We had nothing. No home, zilch. All we had was each other. We’d all lost family, by blood or by brotherhood. Took us a while to reassemble again. Couple of us bunked down at the strip club, and gradually the others came back, and that became our temporary home. Then, at last, this place came up. Dollar and Viper had a construction business, and it came in handy doing this up. Rebuilt the chapter piece by fuckin’ piece. Cleaned up the club, wrote new bylaws. Got the other chapters on board. No one wanted another raid like that one.”

  “And all because they had a rat in the club.” Wraith spells it out to me, in case I’d missed the point.

  There we have it. Last time, they didn’t know they had brought an undercover cop into the compound. No wonder they’re suspicious about me.

  “I’m sorry about your parents, Drummer. And the other men who were lost. But I’m not a cop any longer, and I’m not here to spy on what you do.” I think about the situation for a moment. “If the cops wanted to infiltrate you, don’t you think they’d send in a man? I know you don’t divulge your business to the women in the club.”

  Again his hand raps down on the table. “If you stay in the club, you’ll hear things that you shouldn’t. Yeah, we protect our women from the worst of it, but stuff does get out. I run a clean club, Detective Hannah, but the way we go about it is different than in your world. Anyone, any-fuckin’-one crosses us, then we put them in the ground.”

  It’s a dire warning. The cop part of me wants to arrest them, but there’s a piece of me attracted to the idea of swift retribution and not letting the bad guys walk. Like the truck driver who took my family from me. I’d dreamed about taking him out, but as a law-abiding citizen, that was beyond me.

  “I’m not a detective. I don’t carry a badge anymore. I mean no harm to the club.” But I would say that, wouldn’t I? How the hell can I convince them.

  Drummer takes his seat. He must have been young to take on the president’s role, no wonder he’s tough. Having lost so many brothers in his past explains how intense he is now. He stares at me, his gaze unwavering. “Smart thought that no one had suspected him. That he’d gotten away clean. But then I met Mouse, and he found him.”

  Mouse, their computer expert. I nod, realising how this story is going to end. “You took him out for what he’d done to your brothers and family.”

  He doesn’t admit it, but his silence tells me a lot. If I’d been a man brought up in a violent way of life, that truck driver wouldn’t still be breathing.

  “So tell me, Marcia Hannah, how come you say you’re unemployed? If you’re going to be staying on the compound—and at the moment, I tell you, that’s the last risk I want to take—you’re gonna have to give me something so I can trust you.” His tone is guarded.

  I swallow, going back over everything I know about outlaw motorcycle gangs. Of course they’re afraid of being infiltrated by the enemy. What b
etter cover than to come back as an old lady, pregnant with a brother’s child? If I was in his position, I would be skeptical too, particularly given what the club had experienced. Whatever Heart feels about me, however friendly I had become with the women, I’m sitting in front of the man who holds my life in his hands. And now it’s not just me.

  “Why did you allow me to stay before?”

  His head tilts to one side. “We had you locked down with Heart. It was only temporary. While you were here, we made sure to keep our hands clean. But from the look on my brother’s face, he wants this to be permanent. And that’s far more dangerous.” He sits up straight. “Not planning on breaking the law, but who knows what’s around the corner? We protect our own with everything we’ve got.”

  And I’m not one of theirs. My hand rubs my stomach with the little miracles inside. How can I convince him? I could try telling the truth. “You want to know why I’ve lost my job?”

  He leans back and folds his arms. “I’m listening.”

  “You’ve heard of the case of the missing children in Tucson?”

  He gives a slight jerk of his chin to show that he has.

  “That’s the case I’ve been working on.” I swallow again as a bad taste comes into my mouth. Heart had turned up before I’d had time to process everything that happened to me this morning, and I still barely understand it myself. “I was partnered with Garza and, well, he set me up. Made it look like I leaked information, when he’d told me himself I should give it to the press. He denied it, of course. Sergeant Reynolds had been looking for a chance to get rid of me, and he took it.”

  “Seems a bit weak. One mistake and you’re out?” His eyes blaze into me, full of mistrust.

  I nod in agreement. “Garza’s apparently been providing reports about how bad I am at my job. All trumped up. I am, was, a good detective.”

  “Sounds like you could fight it. If you’re telling the truth.”

  I raise and lower my head. “I could. I could get the union involved. I do good work, Drummer. That’s how I got my promotion to detective. But you’re already aware both Garza and Reynolds have had it in for me, and my suspicions that they’re not straight. However I try to justify myself, they’ll cook something up to make me look bad. Best I could expect is to be demoted, and I don’t want that. I worked hard to get where I am.” I close my eyes briefly then open them again. “And of course, there are the attempts on my life.” I sigh and wipe my hand over my face. “They wanted me out of the way, which would confirm I’ve been looking in places they don’t want me to go.”

  “You think Reynolds and Garza are the ones trying to kill you?”

  That I can’t be certain of. “Probably not directly, they wouldn’t get their hands dirty. But I think they’re feeding information to the people who are.”

  Now his VP enters the conversation with a direct question. “So where have you been looking? What have you found that they don’t like?”

  I should be keeping my mouth shut, not telling them anything. I look from one to the other before coming to a decision. I won’t be dropping this case, even though I’m now unemployed. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a way to get the outlaws on my side. With a sigh I start talking. “As I said, I’m looking into the cases of the missing children, trying to find a pattern, looking for something which they weren’t spotting. Oh, watching the TV, you’d think the police are doing everything they can. But they’re not.”

  “According to you.”

  “According to me,” I agree.

  “You think they’re covering for someone?” Drummer’s sharp eyes get straight to it. “You think they’re getting paid? And kids are going missing and they’re doing fuck all to stop it?”

  At my nod, Drummer pushes back his chair and rests his foot against the table. His eyes go to Wraith’s, and after a second they come back to me. “Okay, if I buy the story that you’ve been dismissed under false circumstances, where do you go from here? You gonna be trying to get back your job?”

  I haven’t thought that far yet. Too much else has happened today. “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “But whether I’m working or not, whether what happened was unfair, dismissal doesn’t hide the fact there are kids out there hurting. That’s what I want to stop, Drummer.”

  My impassioned plea seems to get to him. His eyes gentle, his hand waves to my stomach. “And, what’s all this about?”

  My hands seem to move of their own accord, covering the place where babies are supposed to be. “Another shock,” I admit. Tears come to my eyes as Drummer’s eyes sharpen. “I was told after my accident that I’d never conceive.” I try to put the events of the afternoon into words. “It sounds so stupid, but I’ve been tired, nauseous in the mornings. I put it down to the stress of my job.”

  “When did you tell Heart you were pregnant?”

  A laugh escapes my lips. “I didn’t. Hyde must have noticed something. He didn’t speak about it to me, but must have said something to Heart. First thing I knew about it was Heart throwing pregnancy tests at me.” Tears come to my eyes as I remember the awful things that he’d said. “If Hyde hadn’t blurted it out, Heart had agreed we wouldn’t have said anything. If I really am pregnant, I don’t know…”

  “If?”

  I take the photo out of my purse. “That bean there, that’s shows I’m supposed to be.” I trace the shape then slide the picture over the desk. Drummer looks at it carefully before sliding it back. Reverently, I place it back in my purse. I haven’t admitted to an educated eye, it shows twins, still convinced I’ll lose one or both of them. “Drummer, it wasn’t my idea to come back to the compound. That I’m apparently pregnant and that Heart is the father wasn’t planned. And…” I pause, wondering how to say this. “The whole thing’s ridiculous. Heart’s not the man for me.”

  “He seems to think that he is.”

  Shaking my head, wondering how the man who’s got a Jekyll and Hyde personality toward me could ever be a permanent fixture in my life, I refute it. “It’s what I’m supposed to be carrying he wants, not me.”

  “You don’t know much about Heart, do ya, darlin’?” I think I know all that I need to, but before I can answer he continues. “Heart changed when he lost Crystal. Did things I’d never have expected.”

  I can see, understand that. I’d been a part of his life for almost a year.

  “Thing is, darlin’, I’ve not seen the man that I knew before his accident reappear until tonight. That man, his arms around you and that fuckin’ mutt? That’s the real Heart right there.” He breaks off and again studies me. “Something’s happened, like a switch being thrown. It’s been more than a year now since he lost his wife. A man can’t grieve forever. He offered to choose you over the club—that means one fuck of a lot in our world. But I don’t think you’ve seen too much of the man that he was. Glimpses, perhaps, but not the whole package. If I allow you stay on the compound, I think you should give him a chance.”

  That’s not what I expected him to say, and I’m not sure it’s what I want to do. “It’s better, Drummer, after everything you’ve told me, if I don’t stay. Easier for you and for me.” I swallow a couple of times, knowing they owe me nothing. “I won’t take Heart away from the club, but I’m scared. Especially now.” I glance down at my stomach then back up. “I’m asking you to consider continuing to provide protection.”

  Another glance at his VP. Wraith hasn’t said anything, but has been following the conversation carefully. He raises his chin at Drummer, as if answering an unspoken question. Drummer nods back and changes the direction of the conversation without saying whether he’s going to help me or not.

  “Thing is, Marcia, we’ve got things in common. This case of the missing children ain’t settling well with me either.” He replaces his foot on the floor and pulls his chair forward. “Your cop friends ain’t helping ya, or letting you follow your head. You got thoughts on what’s going on… Well, I want to hear them.”

  That again,
is not what I expect him to say.

  With a heartfelt sigh, Drummer places his steely gaze on me again. “Far as I can see it, there are two choices. Either we take a risk and let you stay on the compound, working with us to put this fuckin’ case to bed and find those kids, or if nothing else, find out what’s happened to them to give their fuckin’ parents some closure. Or, we cut ties, send you out, and you fend for yourself.”

  That’s no choice. If they’re going to be looking for the children, I want to be there alongside them. But there are problems with staying here. “Heart?”

  Drummer shrugs. “He’s claimed ya. You’re his ol’ lady whether you like it or not. On the compound or off by the sound of it.”

  That’s a rather misogynistic approach, and it makes me bristle. I take a moment to think. He is the father of my babies, and together or not, we will need to sort through how this will work. I’d never stop a man from seeing his children.

  Drummer sees my indecision and adds more to persuade me. “If we let you stay, you’ll be protected. Safe to assume you’ve got folks still after ya, ‘specially if you keep working the case.”

  Another shiver runs down my spine, my thoughts repeating themselves. It’s not just me anymore.

  Wraith looks at me, his expression almost as chilling as his president’s. “I’m leaning toward believing what you’re saying, but the club learned from what happened with Smart. We don’t trust easily.”

  “Darlin’?” The word might be an endearment, the tone it’s delivered in means it’s not. “Staying here carries its own risk. Cross us, and they won’t find your body.”

  I don’t intend to cross them. Not knowingly anyway. My hands rub my stomach, my head still not quite believing, but what started as a fuck-up of a day is ending in ways I could never have predicted. It’s those missing children that I want to help, knowing Drummer’s concerned too—and seemingly more than the cops—and in the end I know what option I prefer.