Suddenly I remember I’m wearing these decidedly unsexy and childish pjs.
“Pal, I…”
“You go get dressed babe. Breakfast’s probably ready downstairs. I’ll get some more shut-eye.”
Sitting up, I try to inject some normality into the situation, asking him about when the lockdown will end. I’m probably putting the wrong pressure on his stomach or something, but I feel his hips move again. He groans, I don’t think he’s even aware of it.
I better get up. Wishing again I was wearing something sexy, I slide off him, grab some clothes, and as nonchalantly as I can, as though getting out of a man’s bed isn’t something strange, I take my clothing into the bathroom.
Once inside, I shut the door and slide down the wall, sitting on the floor with my back against it. My fingers go to my lips, caressing where our mouths had touched. Right now I’m feeling like a giddy teenager who’s just had her first kiss. Which is exactly what I am. Oh, sure, my abusers had forced their mouths on me, but I’d hated both it and their wandering hands. Paladin, though, kissing him had blown memories of that away. It was… what words can I use to describe it? Incredible.
My fingers cover my mouth as I realise, my breath must smell, I hadn’t brushed my teeth. But I hadn’t minded his, nor his taste. I think it could become addictive.
He needs his sleep. I don’t know what time he came to bed, but it must have been only a few hours ago, as I’d been told he was going to be out all night. Even though I’d like to wake him for more, it wouldn’t be fair.
Lockdown’s not finishing any time soon. Until then, he and I will be together. Time enough to explore. The notion no longer scares me, but instead is exciting.
When I emerge from the bathroom, I’m disappointed he’s lightly snoring and is fast asleep. But I don’t mind going down into the clubroom on my own, I’ve lived among bikers long enough. The men I’ve met seem nice, and the women will all be there.
The smell, and people walking out with loaded plates leads me to the kitchen. Both Jeannie and Mo are at the stove. As I’m walking across to them, Mace gets in front of me, and puts his hand on Mo’s shoulder.
“So, I was expecting to see Hell without his beard this morning.” He glances at her, and I don’t miss his wink.
Moira’s cheeks flame and as I look curiously on, notice she appears mortified as she replies, “He chickened out and decided he’d just make do with a trim.”
“Sure he did,” Mace smirks.
“You going all ol’ lady on him, Mo? Hell wouldn’t be Prez without that thick beard of his.” Pyro calls out.
Mace chortles. “I don’t think it was himself Hell wanted the shaving foam for. He seemed a bit too excited for that.” As Mace doesn’t give up, I see Moira redden even more.
What else could Hell have been shaving? Oh. I put my hand to my mouth and turn away choking back the giggle that’s about to escape. He wouldn’t, would he? Aren’t they too old to get up to stuff like that?
Titsy leans over and helpfully switches a burner off. “Bacon’s burning, Mo.” Then, oh no, she continues, “Prez does like his women bare.”
“You’ve no idea what he likes,” Moira snaps. “Stop lying, you slut.”
Jeannie puts herself in between them, giving Titsy such a look, the club girl makes herself scarce pretty quickly. Then Bomber’s ol’ lady catches my eye. “Jay, want some breakfast?”
I’m not sure I do anymore, but I nod, grab the plate she hands over, and disappear into the clubroom. The choice is sit by myself or at the table with a couple of club girls. I choose my own company. After a while, a slightly calmer Moira comes to join me, relaxing after she scans the room to find Titsy’s not there.
“So,” she sits down beside me, “how did you sleep?”
“Very well,” I reply honestly. Thinking it’s best not to add how I awoke.
“I’m sorry, Jay. Lockdown must seem very restrictive to you.”
“Not at all, Mo. I’ve been on lockdown before. In fact,” I nibble my lip as I think, “I’ve probably been cooped up on a compound longer than I’ve not.” When she throws me a look of sympathy. I shrug it off. “I’ve lived this life for years. Of course it’s different here, it’s not such a family club, but the vibe’s pretty similar. I know the biker types.”
Now she’s shaking her head. “You don’t know about this club.”
Reaching out I pick up a slice of toast. “Bikers are bikers, aren’t they?”
“This club is not the same as what you’re used to. Oh, not so much nowadays, but back then, when we first came to the club, it was very different.” Jeannie settles a tray of coffee on the table in front of us and sits down. “There are only a few old-timers left.”
“Let me guess. Hell, of course, Bomber and Rusty.”
“Correct.”
“What happened?” Toast consumed, I lean forward to pick up a coffee.
“Ancient history,” Mo tries to dismiss it.
Jeannie hip bumps her. “Less of the ancient, Mo. Makes me feel old.” She turns to me. “Furnace was the VP, when the old Prez, Blackie died, he took over. Eventually made Hellfire his VP, then when Furnace crashed and burned, Hell became Prez. Lost brothers over the years because of the shit we were into. Brothers were a different breed then, harder, they had to be, they lived life on the edge. Wasn’t unusual when they returned from a run without everyone with them. Hell wanted to take the club in a new direction, and when he took over, he seized his chance. He’d met up with Drummer, who’d become Prez of the Tucson chapter when his dad, Bastard had died. They both had ideas about starting a clean MC, so Hellfire brought this club into the Satan’s Devils.”
“Oh?” I had wondered how the two clubs had joined up.
“Best thing Hell ever did,” Mo agrees with a shudder. “Hated those days. Lockdowns were the norm for us then. Brothers getting killed or arrested. Those were dark times.”
“Thank fuck Bomber and Hell survived.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Mo raises her coffee cup. She looks around. “Is it getting hot in here, or is it me?”
“Must be you, I’m cold.” I’m with Jeannie. I’m not that warm myself. “It’s because you’re going through the change, dear,” Jeannie pats her friend’s arm as she continues, then adds with a wink. “Either that, or something got you all heated last night.”
Again Moira goes red. A short time later, Hellfire puts in an appearance. Surprising me when he crosses to the couch, leans over, places his hands either side of Moira’s head, and gives her a kiss worthy of a romance novel. I’ve not seen her stunned into silence before.
“Wow,” Jeannie says when he walks off, watching him enviously. “I could have me some of that.”
Moira slaps at her, and growls, “He’s mine, hands off.” Her evil stare has me giggling.
We talk about this and that. I help them with lunch, then we’re sitting back down. I’m a bit bored. In Tucson, the kids would have kept me busy. At last, out of the corner of my eye I see Pal walking by, but as Moira’s talking to me, I can’t be rude and leave her to go to him. A little while later, he’s walking past me again, this time, acknowledging me, but clearly indicating, he’s off to yet another meeting.
Chapter 29
Hellfire
“My list was quite short in comparison.” Demon stretches out his legs and sits with his arms folded. There’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
“Twenty? In the last six months?” Unlike me, who married young and who’s remained faithful to his old lady, my son is still very much single at thirty-five. Still sowing his wild oats too. I’m beginning to doubt there’s a woman out there for him.
An unrepentant shrug. “What can I say? I like variety. Those are only the ones where I asked their names.”
“Are you ever going to settle down?” The corners of my mouth turn down. He doesn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to. Instead, I ask what worries me most. “Was it anything we did, Demon? Me and Moira?”
“I knew Mo was for me, the first time I saw her,” I admit.
“That’s what I’m looking for too,” he says, seriously. “I’m always hoping I’m going to find her. Not got anything against committing to the right woman, just running out of hope I’ll ever come across anyone who’ll make me feel what you did.”
I pull a very long list toward me. “In the meantime…”
“In the meantime I’m getting the practice in.” He chuckles. “Can’t deny I’m enjoyin’ it too.”
Looking at the list which seems to go on forever, it’s my turn to shake my head. “Why the fuck do we keep club girls when brothers go elsewhere? I didn’t know there were this many single women in Pueblo.”
“There’s not,” Demon leans forward, tapping on the paper. “Lot of the names there are duplicates. Once a bitch gets a taste of biker cock, she goes back for more. Least a couple seem to have gone through all the brothers.” He sits back again. “Bit of a surprise Bomber’s name’s there. Thought him and Jeannie were solid.”
He’s my VP. Anything happens to me, it’s likely he’ll take over. Wouldn’t tell this to anyone else, but he’s got the right to know. “Shocked me too, Brother. But he’s not being unfaithful to Jeannie, or not in the way you’re thinkin’. They’re swingers.”
A loud snort is startled from Demon’s mouth. Both his hands sweep back his hair, then he shakes his head. “Well I’ll be fucked.”
“Accordin’ to this list, you have been,” I can’t resist putting in, drily.
“Very funny. But Bomber and Jeannie? Would never have believed it.”
Surprisingly I would. It’s hard to keep spice in a marriage that you’ve been in for thirty plus years. They’re just coping with it in a different way.
“Mom know?”
“No,” I reply fast. “And she mustn’t. Um, Bomber, well, he made an offer…”
He catches on quickly. “A foursome with you and Mom? Fuck, Dad. If you ever take them up on it, that’s one thing I don’t want to know.” He looks horrified, then chuckles incredulously again. “Yeah, Dad. Best to keep that from Mom.”
“You’ve got no worries there, Son.” I try not to show how hearing him call me Dad again has affected me.
“So.” The pursing of his lips, the lines on his brow are indications he’s returned to the matter in hand. “Cad had any luck with the list?”
“Cutting out duplicates we’re down to about a hundred and thirty. Mostly girls picked up in clubs, banged around the back, then let go. Many have no names to go on. Brothers insist they made no promises.”
“Let’s talk this through. A dead body left where it would likely bring us to the attention of the cops. Want my suggestion on that?” The jerk of my chin conveys I do, indeed, want to know his thoughts. “A homeless person found dead isn’t unusual. Could have been opportune rather than premeditated. Someone stumbles across him, someone who already wants to do us harm. Plants him to cause mischief.”
That makes more sense than killing a random guy or combing the streets looking for someone who’s recently died. Another chin raise shows my agreement.
“Then we’ve got the theft at the auto-shop,” Demon resumes. “Now that, I think, could have been targeted. They were after something in particular.”
“You think?” I frown, because following that train of thought has implications.
My VP leans forward, placing his hands on my desk. “We both know the problems with that. If they wanted those particular parts, they needed to have inside knowledge they’d just been delivered.”
There’s the rub. That points to either a member of the club having a loose mouth, or one of our employees. “Pyro’s questioned everyone. Short of trying to torture the truth out of them, no one’s fessed up.”
“They wouldn’t. But I’d be tempted to keep my eye on everyone who had knowledge. Which brothers knew, Prez?”
We’re definitely in focused-work mode when we both use our titles. “Pyro, Sparky and Mace. They’re the other two who put time in at the shop.”
Demon’s brow furrows. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Those three are brothers I put one hundred percent trust in.”
“Look at it the other way around. Which wouldn’t you?”
“The prospects. They’re the only ones who haven’t proven themselves yet.”
“Any contact with the shop?”
“Runt was there when the delivery was made.”
So fingers would point in his direction, but, “Runt was the one who got shot.”
“Leave that for a moment,” Demon suggests. “Let’s talk about the drive-by. One car, one gun. Okay, a semi, but one pass wasn’t going to do much harm unless we were all congregated out front.”
“Lucky we were at the barbeque.”
“Indeed it was.” He rubs at his temples. “Either someone knew and wanted to cause fear, not fatalities, or they were unlucky not to take down more.”
I hadn’t looked at it that way. “Runt…?”
“Could have set himself up.”
It’s my turn to frown. “Hell of a risk, VP. An automatic fired from a car? Those bullets could have hit anywhere. Runt could have been killed.”
“Or he shot himself.”
Is that any more fanciful than anything else we discussed? I’m not going to dismiss it out of hand. “Did anyone check his wound? See what calibre bullet caused it?”
Demon’s head moves left and right. “I’ll ask Rusty, but I doubt he’d have looked. He just wanted to close it up to stop the bleeding.”
“The bullet. Can we search outside? See if we can find it. It went straight through.”
His mouth twitches, “If Runt was involved. If he did shoot himself, he’ll have picked up the evidence.”
I stand and start to pace. “Fuck, I don’t like this VP. We all know it’s why we make men prospect. So we can see what they’re made of. Sniff out a plant. Runt’s been here, what, nine, ten months? He’s close to getting his patch. Surely something would have shown up in the time he’s been with us. I’ve never had suspicions about him before.”
“Me neither. But the brothers? We’ve not had anyone patch in recently. Ink was the last, and that was two years ago. Smithy didn’t make the grade.”
As he refers to a prospect we parted company with, my head tilts. “Smithy?” His name has come up before. “Cad check him out? Are we sure he didn’t leave sour?”
Demon scoffs, “I’m certain, Prez. He was more relieved than upset. Thought he was going to ride his bike all the time and not turn his hands to work. When he realised he’d have to actually work for his cut, he didn’t think what we did was so glamourous. Anyway, yeah, Cad’s confirmed he’s gone.”
“And?”
Demon chuckles. “Headed off to LA last I heard. Think he was going to try to get in with the Wretched Soulz. A club, as he put it, with more guts.”
Well, if he failed with us, he’s unlikely to make it with the dominant club in California, and most of the Southwest come to that. It’s not the first time someone’s been enticed into the brotherhood after watching too much Sons of Anarchy.
“Fuckin’ hell.” I shake my head, then Demon and I exchange glances. Smithy fucks up with the Wretched Soulz he won’t be leaving with a polite handshake. Still, seems my VP’s right. Smithy has to be ruled out.
Demon jerks his chin. “Which makes everything come back to Runt. What do you want to do about him?”
That’s a very good question. Man’s worked hard. He’s determined to get his patch. But then, he would if he’s got an ulterior motive and wants to infiltrate
the club. But some things don’t add up. “If Runt was a plant by the cops, he wouldn’t be so stupid as to fuck with us in the ways we’ve been fucked. It’s almost childish retaliation.”
“Childish? Shooting up the club?”
I wave my hand. “You know what I mean. Runt could be a plant for personal revenge. This is what this feels like.” I’m the prez. I need to make decisions, sometimes ones I don’t like. “Get Cad looking into his background. Yeah, I know he’ll already have done a check, but see if he can dig deeper. Ask Rusty about the wound, could it have been caused by a handgun?”
“We pull him off duty?”
“Leave him for now. Watch him. Once we get more from Cad and Rusty, then we’ll question him.” If the man’s innocent, he’ll have nothing to tell. But I’m not naïve. To make sure he’s telling the truth, we’ll probably have to hurt him. Only when a man’s at his limits will we believe him. If he’s not against the club already, our treatment could turn him.
My VP knows the implications. “We could lose a good man, Prez.”
“Or we could find out the truth and be able to get the club off lockdown. My gut feel, VP, is that we haven’t seen the last of this. Whoever is behind it, isn’t going to stop. I want just you, me, Thunder and Mace in on this. Keep our suspicions about the prospect to officers only for now. Give us a chance to get to the bottom of what Runt has to offer before everyone knows which direction we’re looking in.” I grimace. “Brothers would be unable to hide their distrust.”
Leaning forward, Demon places his clasped hands between his knees. “Which might be completely unwarranted. Yeah. Don’t want to rush this, Prez. Keep Cad going through the list of names. And let’s just watch Runt for a while.”
“Time we wait we could have something else heading for us.”
“So, we keep Runt locked down. He’s injured. We can excuse him from duties. Make sure one of us is always close to him. Get Cad to monitor his phone calls.”
“Whoever it is isn’t working alone,” I remind him. “Much as we can keep an eye on Runt, can’t rule out something else is already set in motion.”
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