Being Lost: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #1

by Manda Mellett

  “I did. I changed my mind.” He shoves some food in his mouth, chews and swallows it while I look on wondering how come the man can even eat sexily. “And it’s not early, it’s almost eleven o’clock.”

  What? I glance at the clock on the oven and see that he’s right. Now my attire makes me feel worse than ever. I rarely oversleep. I’m just about to offer an apology when he speaks again.

  “I needed to have a talk with you about what you do next.”

  I open my mouth to ask what he’d discovered when he’d spoken to the man who had been following me, but my son doesn’t give me a chance.

  “I move,” Dan says tersely, sending me a remorseful look. “This is my problem, not Mom’s. She should be able to go back to her old life, and I’ll get relocated again. Lost, it’s great Demon asked you to watch out for us, but no one should have ever known that Connor Foster was alive, let alone where Dan Forster went. So I’ll talk to the marshals, get them to change my name again, and then, well…”

  Then he’ll disappear from my life and won’t be able to come back. I put down my fork having lost my appetite.

  Lost narrows his eyes. “One choice you’ve got, obviously. Dan talks to the marshals and get either both of you or just him moved.”

  “Our only choice,” Dan informs him.

  “Not true.” Lost shakes his head. Unlike me, he’s still hungry and takes a moment to chew on a piece of bacon, as Dan and I sit impatiently waiting to hear what in hell other option we’ve got. I can’t think of anything. “What you can do,” Lost finally enlightens us, “is stay, face it head-on, and get Alder out of the picture for good.”

  “Are you talking about taking him out?”

  My eyes open wide and go toward my son who’d spoken. Phil had certainly been a bad influence on him as that hadn’t been the first thing that had come into my head.

  Lost’s eyes are stern. “Commit murder? Plan it in cold blood?” I start shaking my head, ready to say of course Dan hadn’t meant that, but stop when he grins. “You’re growing on me, kid.”

  Find Alder and kill him? My eyes flick to one then the other as I realise, they are right. We’ll never be free of him while he’s still breathing.

  Chapter Ten

  Lost

  After I’d spent time talking to that asshole yesterday, I’d done what I normally do. I had retreated to my room to think. I’m not a man who leaps into action, not without considering all the options first.

  I tend to look at a problem from one side and then the other, considering solutions then dismissing them, then formulating more. It hadn’t taken long to come to the conclusion that Dan and Patsy had had their fair share of running and needed the requirement for them to keep hidden over and done.

  That I’d come up with the correct way to play things was confirmed when I’d placed an early morning call to my counterpart in Colorado. Demon had told me something in confidence that moved the goal posts considerably. It seems though the couple wasn’t officially announcing it as it was early days, Ink had admitted to his prez that Beth and he had something cooking, something that was going to arrive in seven more months.

  If all goes well, Patsy was to become a grandma, and it seemed beyond cruel to keep that from her. Crueller still, perhaps, to let her know about it because she’d be more torn than she is already, wrenched between wanting to be there for Beth, and needing to stay with Dan.

  She’s a loyal family woman but asking her to live as though she hasn’t got a daughter is tearing her apart. I can already see how much she’s hurting, and as yet, she doesn’t know exactly how much she’s going to miss.

  So the idea I’d come up with became fixed in my head. It was the right path forward for Patsy and Dan, but that led me to different considerations. It’s one thing to offer our protection to them, quite another to put ourselves on the front line.

  My problem is, am I right to ask my brothers to take on this fight, now we know who it’s likely we’ll be going up against?

  I’ll be putting the club in this Alder’s headlights. A man so shady we know little about him, but one powerful enough to evade the reach of the feds. This isn’t some two-bit criminal we’re dealing with. This is a man who can command an army of druggies at the very least to search for the woman he wanted to locate. One drugged-up man can be overcome easily, but a whole group of men who have brown sugar dangled in front of them can be unpredictable and dangerous, without morals when they’re seeking their next fix.

  Who else has he got working for him? Even if not partaking in what they’re selling themselves, there will be men relying on Alder to supply them with product for sale. Without their brains being fucked, these might be more of a risk if he can get them organised.

  If I bring this to the table, I’ll be pitting my club against the strength of an unknown army. One thing’s for certain—if Alder discovers we’re giving sanctuary to Patsy and Dan, he’ll be coming for us head-on. I may not understand the reason, may not know how Alder is in possession of the knowledge Connor Foster is still alive, but I do know if Alder’s going to the extent of dredging the streets of San Diego for information, he knows and wants him found.

  What else can I do but offer them the protection of my club? The idea of leaving them to figure it out themselves doesn’t sit right with me.

  They could get help from the marshals and relocate once again.

  They could. But Alder would still be out there, waiting for just one slip. Patsy deserves to have her life back, and Dan his fresh start. I’m certain that end is the one toward which we should be working.

  Or am I? Doubts run through my mind, second-guessing myself, then eventually asking myself the question, am I proposing this for the right reasons? Do I want to keep Patsy close, not because of their relationship to the club, but because my motive is personal?

  I’ve not been interested in a woman for a very long time, but Patsy intrigues me. There’s just something about her that calls to me, and I don’t know why. I’ve seen many women around the club, and even in town, when they either see my cut and run, or come onto me, probably because of my president patch. Patsy’s different. Something tells me she sees the man, not the motorcycle and title.

  Maybe I should let her go and forget all about her. But what if I do and I can’t? Since I lost my wife, I’ve never found another woman who’s captured my interest, and especially not one with whom I sense a connection I want to explore.

  But is there room for a woman in my life? If we explored that connection and found something there, could I commit to her? Experience has shown me women consume a large part of your life, and I’ve got the club to consider. Since I moved to the top seat, I’ve given my all to the Satan’s Devils MC, brought men back together and done my best to make sure our businesses run right so everyone stays happy and fed.

  Isn’t it time to take something for yourself?

  I’m not sure that voice is mine, or whether it’s Snake offering temptation my way. A woman could make me take my eye off the ball. It would be safer for me, and for her, if she and Dan just disappeared.

  But what if she went and Alder tracked them anyway? What if she ended up dead? No. That possibility exists, and that’s unacceptable to me. I acknowledge I have selfish reasons both for wanting to keep her close and for seeing her drive away.

  Thoughts, ideas, a way forward decided then more backtracking. I spend far too many hours worrying which way I should jump.

  Eventually I circled back to the decision I’d made first, coupled with the acceptance that should Patsy demonstrate a reciprocal interest in me, I wouldn’t push her away. Not all women are like my ex-wife.

  So here I am, at Patsy and Dan’s house. I ended up cooking breakfast while waiting for her to awaken, and subsequently to the current conversation.

  “It’s up to you, Dan.” I look at him, having to drag my eyes away from his mom who looks delectable having clearly just rolled out of bed. My cock twitches as I wonder whether she’d look even
more disheveled had it been my bed she’d rolled out of. I force myself to concentrate on the man I’m addressing, trying to rid the inappropriate thoughts of his mother from my head. This is not me. I can’t remember a woman having such an effect on me in years. I feel more like a horny teenager than a middle-aged battle-scarred MC prez. “You can rely on the authorities, and the marshals will probably get you settled somewhere else.” I shrug again. “You’ll have to downplay the part your mom played in your discovery otherwise they might see her as a risk. You’ll probably be safe enough starting afresh if you keep your head down, and if both of you can resist connecting with your old life, family and friends.” I determinedly don’t look at Patsy as I’ve cruelly inferred she’s a risk. But I can’t sugarcoat it. She fucked up. Though knowing that doesn’t mean I don’t feel sympathetic as hell.

  He regards me carefully, clearly deep in thought. I give him the moment he needs before he starts speaking, admiring he’s not just leaping in. I like a man who can think.

  “Or get Alder off our backs for good? We’d need help.” Dan’s lips press together when he finally comments. He pushes aside his empty plate and leans his elbows on the table. “I lived with my dad, Phil Foster. I…” he glances at his mom apologetically. “For a spell, I was one of his debt collectors. Not proud of what I’ve done, but I don’t back down from a fight and I’m not afraid of facing things head-on. If there’s a chance we can take out Alder or get him sent down, I’d like to take it.” He glances sideways. “Mom, if we can get him off our backs, life can go back to normal—at least for you.”

  “Dan, I’m scared. While I agree, I wouldn’t have a clue where to start, and you could be putting yourself in danger.” Patsy’s in agreement with the solution in principle, but I can understand her unease with how it could be achieved.

  “Not expecting you to confront Alder.” I include both of them in my gaze. “You’ve got the Satan’s Devils on your side.”

  “No.” Patsy’s voice is firmer. “We’ve only just met, Lost. You owe us nothing. I’m thankful that you and your men helped me yesterday, but going after Alder, we can’t ask you to do that. He’s dangerous.” Her brow furrows deeply.

  Dan though, well he looks hopeful for the first time this morning. “How?”

  “Not got that answer yet, Dan.” I reply with an honest answer. “But knowing the destination means we can start mapping out how we get there. At the moment, there are questions but no answers, and it’s those we need to be finding.” Patsy doesn’t look convinced. I direct my next comment to her. “I know you’re not asking, but I’m telling you we can help.”

  Whether there will ever be anything between us, whether she’ll even consider getting to know a man like myself, I want her to be happy. I know that she won’t be when she’s separated from one of her children. I prefer the option that leaves Alder dead and permanently out of the picture. But in her eyes, while she might have the experience of the Satan’s Devils in Colorado, I’m little more than a stranger who’s walked in off the street and offered something she’s no idea I’ve got the ability to deliver.

  She needs time. “This isn’t a decision that should be taken lightly. You both need space to think. What you decide will affect the rest of your lives. In the meantime though, I’m not happy with you staying in this house. I want you both to pack a bag and come to the compound.” I grimace. “It’s not like staying at the Ritz, but we can protect you better there.” At least with Beth being with Ink, Patsy knows something about bikers and clubs.

  “I’ve no problem coming to your clubhouse.” She confirms my thoughts, but doubt crosses her face. “I’m worried about getting you involved. I think Dan ought to speak to the marshals as soon as he can.”

  “I don’t,” her son says tersely. “Mom, think. You want to be able to at least talk to Beth. To go home—”

  “I don’t have a home,” Patsy all but wails. “I knew what I was stepping into, Dan. There’s no going back.” I grimace, thinking she’d thought leaving would be easy. In the end, though, she’d found it unbearable not to have contact with her daughter. If she leaves, she may never know that her family is getting larger, and soon she’ll be a grandmother.

  “Ink and Beth bought my house,” she continues. “They’ll have changed it—as they should—to make it a home for themselves. I’ve cut ties, Dan. If it means you’re safe, I’ll do anything. Even if that means…” her voice breaks, “even if it means I never hear Beth’s voice again.”

  “Mom.” Dan’s voice is full of emotion.

  She looks at him sadly, then turns to me. “Can you give me that assurance, Lost? Can you promise you’ll keep us safe? Or will I be burying my son for real if we stay here and face Alder?”

  You’re going to fuck it up. You always do. I push Snake’s voice out of my head. “I can’t promise.” I give her the truth. “But at least, come to the clubhouse and take the chance to think this through. It will be safer than your staying here. If after we’ve discussed everything and decide it’s better for you to leave, you’ve lost nothing but gained a couple of day’s breathing space.”

  “Can’t be fairer than that, Mom.” Dan implores her with his eyes. “You’ve no idea how much I want to take back my own name, start a new life, not under this new identity, but as the person I am. Your son and Beth’s brother.”

  Patsy pushes her own plate away. I notice she’s only eaten half of it but suspect that’s down to the topic of conversation rather than my cooking skills. That’s one area where I’ve never been criticised. She stands, her eyes landing first on me, then on her son. She sighs in resignation. “Okay. If that’s what you want, Dan. We’ll go to the clubhouse and take a moment to decide what to do.”

  As she goes to get dressed and pack, and Dan disappears to gather his stuff for their at least temporary move to the compound, I sit, deep in thought.

  I think Patsy has been holding her tongue, biting back words she wants to say. That she doesn’t voice them makes her go up in my estimation. She must be scared, not just for her son, but for herself too.

  It dawns on me that she hadn’t taken any persuasion to realise Alder was a clear and present danger to her son. A niggling idea takes hold at the back of my mind, wondering what she knows. Sure, he was responsible for leaving her son beaten close to death, but I’m starting to wonder if she knows more than she’s told. She’d known Alder before. It was twenty years or so back, but leopards do not change their spots. I decide I need to have a chat with Patsy, get her somewhere alone... My cock jerks. Jeez. What am I, a kid? Just the thought of one-on-one time with her and my body goes into overdrive.

  I’m just looking for an excuse. What more could Patsy offer other than Alder’s a nasty piece of work? It’s Dan’s head that holds the answers to my questions. There must be something he knows that hasn’t already been said, and which is why Alder won’t stop until he knows for certain Connor Foster is dead.

  As I’ve been lost in my thoughts, Dusty, who’d made himself scarce while we’d been talking, returns and shows he’s got a domestic side I hadn’t appreciated as he scrapes off the plates and stacks them in the dishwasher, then turns it on.

  “What?” He catches me watching him, then shrugs. “You cooked, I clean. Isn’t this how it works?”

  I laugh, then grow serious again. “No sign of anyone last night?”

  “Nothing,” he informs me. “Curtis said all was quiet when he was doing the rounds. He didn’t see anyone out of place or anything suspicious. You get anything from the dude yesterday to worry you?”

  That’s the problem. I did. I cast my eye down the hallway where the woman and her son had disappeared. “We’ll discuss it later in church.”

  Catching on to what I’m not saying, Dusty nods. “Sure, Prez.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Dan appears with a rucksack which looks half empty, followed a quarter of an hour later by Patsy with a case that’s bulging at the seams. I grin. All a man needs are a few pairs of underwear and a co
uple of t-shirts. Women? Well, who knows what they regard as the necessities for a couple of days away.

  “I think I’ve got all I need.” Patsy bites her lip as she looks down at her case.

  “I’ll send a prospect back if there’s anything you’ve forgotten,” I tell them. “Ready to go?” I take out my keys and toss them in my hands, now anxious to get moving.

  To accommodate Dan’s longer legs, he sits shotgun, while Patsy climbs into the rear of the club’s truck that I’d brought along. Dusty and Curtis follow in the vehicle they’d brought last night.

  In silence, we drive through San Diego. The residential and business areas fall behind as we drive into open country. Soon I make the turn into the gates of the compound and proceed along the roadway alongside the now pitted asphalt which used to be a runway. It’s the first hangar that had been converted to a clubhouse. There’s not much in the way of luxuries out here, but we’ve got amazing views out over the sprawling city below. On a clear day, there’s a good view of the Coronado Bridge and nearby Navy base.

  Three years ago, we were pushed for space until the loss of nine members meant we had a few empty rooms in the main clubhouse. Even with the new prospects we’ve taken on, we can easily accommodate our two guests.

  Dart’s been working on plans to add further accommodations to the rear of the second hangar. Optimistic for sure, but hey, the club won’t turn away the right kind of new members.

  “This is nice.” Patsy looks around, saying the right words but from the expression on her face, she was hoping for more.

  I sigh, thinking she’d be far happier somewhere like the compound the Tucson chapter has. Years back, they’d bought and restored a burned-out vacation resort complete with a swimming pool. We’ve got the climate that could do with a luxury like that, but Dart’s the only person with an old lady, and comfort takes a back seat for most of us. Often, I think the place needs more of a feminine touch. Of course we’ve got the whores, but they’re in no position to push for the finer things in life.