Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6

by Manda Mellett

  Fuck it. I hope we’re making the right decision and that sweet girl will soon be back where she belongs and out of the clutches of men like Major forever.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lizard

  I’m Lizard, otherwise known as Norton James. I ride with the Satan’s Devils MC and have done for the past ten years. I’m… thirty-eight years old, and my birthday is the tenth of January. I’m a tattoo artist and I run Devil’s Ink on behalf of my brothers. I’ve no ties, no family and that’s the way I intend to stay.

  Before I open my eyes, I hear the tapping of rain against my window. Guess I’m not going to moan at having a busy day ahead in the tattoo parlour, whereas some Saturdays, I do end up envying my brothers with a day off instead. From the sound of it, today’s not going to be great for riding.

  I sit up straight as I remember what else should be happening later. If Demon contacted Esme’s parents and they were as loving as we hoped, I doubt they’ll waste any time coming to collect her. I’m only assuming he made the call last night. When I’d left the meeting, Bella had been available, and I’d made good use of her for a couple of hours. Then one of my blinding headaches had come on suddenly, and I’d dismissed her, turned off the light and slid into bed.

  Sleep gradually gave a release while the pain still assailed me. Luckily, this morning, it’s gone.

  I throw off the covers, eager to discover whether Demon’s call was successfully made. I feel invested in the outcome, though God knows why. I haven’t had a lot to do with Esme since she came to the compound, apart from stuffing dollars in that overfilled jar. But I was the first to know of Shayla and the young girl’s problems and was happy my brothers stepped up and gave them refuge.

  That I’d stayed clear since then hadn’t been surprising. I’ve never been interested in having kids of my own, did everything I could to prevent it. Always used my own condoms and not one a girl conveniently had in her purse. It’s rare I ever go with anyone other than the club girls who were all on some kind of contraceptive to ensure no slipups were ever made. A couple of times I’d been with hangarounds, but not often. Young dizzy girls are not my style.

  I shower, dress, slide into my cut and attach my wallet to the chain on my belt, then descend the metal staircase. The first person I see is Mace. He’s pacing by the door. During the time I’ve walked from the top step to the last, he’s taken out his phone and checked it twice.

  I cross the room to him. “The family coming?”

  “Yeah, Vanna and Cas are on their way. I’m expecting them any moment now.”

  I thought he’d been getting on well with Shayla this week. I hadn’t missed how patient he was being with her and far from his normal enforcer self. I’d actually thought he was getting close to her, and fuck knows, that girl needs someone on her side. Now I find he’s waiting on the other bitch and her son? What’s the fucking man want? Both women? He’s greedy as fuck. I roll my eyes. “I was actually asking about Esme.”

  “What? Oh, yeah. Her parents are on their way now. Shayla’s already said her goodbyes to Esme, not that the kid understood. Now she’s gone with Pyro, who’s dropping her off at Mo’s, to keep out of the way until the kid’s gone, or, not as the case may be.” I nod, knowing there’s no way we’re going to let just anybody take her. “I’m waiting on Cas. Then I’ll be taking him to the auto-shop.”

  “What about Vanna?”

  “Oh, she’s arranged to do some baking with Mel. Seems they’re getting on like a house on fire.”

  As if he’s summoned them by magic, the front door opens and the woman and her son come in, both of them already dripping after just the walk from the car to the clubhouse. The boy looks like a dog as he shakes the rain off him.

  Vanna wipes her face with her hand and pushes back her damp hair. To give her credit, she looks amused rather than worried about the damage to her style. As her hand draws my attention to it, I notice her hair looks different. Just as long but seems to hang better. Fuck, if I was in the market for a civilian woman, I’d be happy to give her a try. She’s an attractive bitch for one in her thirties. No wonder Mace is sniffing around.

  He shouldn’t be.

  Shaking my head, wondering where the hell that thought came from, I start to turn around, my intention to get some breakfast before going to work.

  “Cas, you okay to head straight out? Pyro needs me at the shop now.”

  “Sure,” I hear the kid answer excitedly.

  “Hey, Liz. You got something you’ve been keeping to yourself?” Judge calls out, then walks closer, looking between me and the boy standing next to Vanna. “You and the kid look like two peas in a pod. He’s got your nose.”

  He looks nothing like me. Red hair and green eyes, whereas I’m a dark blond and mine are hazel. “I ain’t got a monopoly on my nose, Brother,” I bark dismissively. “You trying to stir shit?”

  Judge is now close enough to bump my arm. “Just saying, there’s a resemblance.”

  “There’s no fuckin’ resemblance, and no fuckin’ chance.” With a leer, I give Vanna the once over, and scoff. “Haven’t ever been there, nor have any inclination.” Realising too late how that might sound, I throw the woman a look of apology. “Don’t mean anything by it, darlin’, but you’re not my type.”

  Her face gives nothing away, not even a twitch. Cas though, well the kid goes white. Makes me wonder if he knows who his father is, and if not, whether he’d be worried if he was a biker. Have to admit, his mom seems pretty comfortable in this environment. Well, whoever fathered him, it certainly wasn’t me.

  I do notice Cas had bounced in. Now with what’s probably a teenage mood swing, he looks sullen and his smile’s been replaced by a frown. That right there, I remind myself, is why I never wanted a kid.

  “I’ve got your helmet here.” Mace gets between me and the boy, reaching over to a table and picking it up from where it’s been hidden on a chair. “We’ve got to get moving, Pyro wants me there yesterday. Best put that on inside.” As he hands the kid the lid, Mace’s face morphs into a grin. “It’s raining out.”

  “We’re not going in a car?” Cas asks, his voice dripping with scorn.

  “Nah. Little bit of wet never hurt anyone. Hey, Karl! You got some wet-weather clothing Cas can borrow?”

  The prospect yells back that he has and is soon approaching with a waterproof jacket.

  Cas looks at it but doesn’t take it. “I don’t want to go, Mace. It’s bucketing down out there.”

  His sulky tone gets to me. Mace is doing him a favour taking him to the shop, and the kid doesn’t want to go because it’s fucking raining? As my eyes open incredulously, I swing around. What do they make kids of nowadays? “You won’t fuckin’ melt, kid, now go and get on Mace’s bike,” I snarl.

  Surprised I’ve entered their conversation, Cas’s angry eyes snap to mine, something in his expression making me take a step back.

  Christ. Pain slams into me as though I’ve been hit around the back of the head. I stagger slightly, then straighten again.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

  Trying to deal with the pain, my mouth opens and shuts and I’m at a loss for words.

  “Cas,” Vanna says loudly. “Where are your manners? If you don’t want to go on the bike, I’ll drive you…”

  Now I’m glaring at her. “Kid does what he’s told, or he’s not going.”

  Why the hell do I care?

  “You okay, Liz?” Mace asks me, his face appearing to shimmer through my unfocused eyes.

  “Bad head,” I rasp out. “Don’t let the kid get away with it, Brother.” Then I turn and walk away toward the kitchen, letting them sort it out themselves. Perhaps having some food might ease the pain. The thought flits through my head that maybe the kid hasn’t anything to do with me, but he’s got the same mile-wide stubborn streak.

  Shortly after, when I’m tucking into some pancakes, eggs, and bacon, with a cup of coffee next to my hand, Van
na walks in on her own. She seems agitated.

  “What did the kid decide to do in the end?” I ask, my headache having receded a little.

  She looks down, before meeting my eyes. “He went with Mace. I’m sorry, Lizard. He’s not always that way. It’s coming here...” I notice as her words trail away.

  “Coming here… What?”

  She looks away. “He finds it hard is all.”

  Hard? Thought the boy enjoyed being on the compound. But maybe he doesn’t like being told what to do. She probably lets him get away with shit that wouldn’t fly with us. But if he doesn’t want to behave, there’s a simple answer for that. “Well don’t bring him, then.”

  As she inhales sharply, Mel shoots me a look and crosses to her. “Kids, eh? Guess this is what I’ve got to look forward to.” Her hand smooths over her rounded belly.

  “Fuckin’ kids,” I say to no one in particular and pick up my fork again.

  “P-p-pay u-u-up,” a little voice sounds. It’s one I’ve not heard before.

  Despite everything, I break out a smile. “Well, of course, Esme, sweetheart. Here, take five. I’m sure to f- slip up again.”

  She grins, takes the bill, and skips off out of the kitchen, returning a few seconds later. I shake my head and chuckle to myself. I hope she does get collected, else I’m going to be broke. Still, it was good to see for myself that she’s starting to recover her voice. Even if she only uses it to demand money for her fucking swear jar.

  Suddenly, I hear a commotion from the clubroom. I push my plate away and stand, checking my gun is in my cut and at hand if I need it.

  “Where is she?” comes a shrill voice. “Where’s my baby? Where is she?”

  Esme, I notice, has gone still as stone. Her head tilting as though she’s computing something.

  “Esme! Essie?”

  I go out through the door to find Demon facing two people down. Suddenly, I’m pushed forward as someone bumps into me, physically clearing me from the doorway.

  If Demon had had any expectations of how this reunion was to be handled, his plans are having to undergo an unforeseen and very swift change. Esme doesn’t falter, just tears across the room and throws herself into the arms of the woman who’s clearly her mother, she even looks like her. Her father’s arms swiftly surround them both, and all three are crying.

  “That went well,” I say to no one in particular.

  The man is the first to straighten, leaving his wife and child sobbing and hugging, then he, wiping his own eyes, steps toward Demon. Due to the frown on his face, I also move closer.

  “I’m Dave Black, otherwise known as Demon.” Prez holds out his hand.

  “The man I spoke to on the phone,” Esme’s father states. Joy at the reunion being replaced by concern.

  Demon nods, though there’s no need to confirm it.

  “You said you wanted to fill me in, in person.” There’s an imperceptible straightening of his shoulders as if in preparation for a weight he’ll be asked to bear. Any hope that there’s an innocent explanation for the four months his daughter’s been missing, is not there.

  Demon raises his chin. “There are things you should know that are better discussed face-to-face. Would you come to my office?”

  “I, er, Maisie?” he calls out to Esme’s mom.

  Demon puts a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you let Esme and her mom have some time together.” His eyes flash, signalling something which the girl’s dad picks up on, and his face becomes grimmer.

  “Here, D. I’ll get them some refreshments.” Vi, who I hadn’t noticed, steps up, holding onto Theo’s hand.

  Looking at her fondly, Demon says to her, “Thanks Vi,” then to the man, “This is my wife, Violet, and our son, Theo.”

  “I’m Brett. Brett Waterman.”

  As he introduces himself to Violet, I notice his eyes linger on Theo, then they rise to nod at Demon. Seems something about her having a young child has reassured him.

  Prez notices. “Well come this way, Brett. Vi will make sure your wife and daughter are looked after, while I catch you up on what you need to know.”

  Vi, with Theo toddling along beside her, approaches his wife, Maisie, tapping on her arm to get her attention. Then she gesticulates in our direction, then toward Demon’s office, clearly telling her where we’re taking her man, reassuring her he won’t go far.

  Brett relaxes slightly, but his face becomes tight as Demon raises his chin toward me. “Join us, Liz?”

  Why me? Because I’m the one who started this. If I’d simply refused to cover a ‘Property of’ patch, we’d never have found Esme.

  I sigh and taking out my phone, send off a short text warning Jonah I probably won’t make it to the shop today, then follow Demon and Esme’s dad.

  As soon as we’re behind the closed door, Brett asks even before sitting down, “Where’s she been? How did she come to be with you?” His eyes narrow. “Did you take her? Did you have anything to do with her disappearance?”

  “I told you on the phone, we discovered her only a few days back. Kept her safe while trying to find out who she was.”

  Brett’s eyes focus on Demon’s, then after a moment, he gives a slow nod. “Sometimes words settle better when you can see the man who’s uttering them.” He pulls out the chair, and at last, sits. “Esme means the world to me, Mr Black. I…” he pauses to wipe moisture that’s again leaked from his eyes with no embarrassment. “I still can’t believe she’s out there with Maisie. I…”

  Demon pushes the jug of water toward him, along with a glass. “If I could spare you this, I would, Brett.”

  “Give it to me, Mr Black. Tell me what I’m dealing with.”

  Prez gives him a moment to wet his throat. When Brett replaces the glass on the desk, Demon waves in my direction. “This is Lizard. He runs our tattoo parlour. Best we start from the beginning and tell you how Esme came to be with us.”

  Then, with a deep sigh, Prez starts talking. As he does so, he identifies the part I played as the man who first raised suspicions about a woman with a ‘Property of’ tattoo.

  I’ve seen Mace use torture before to break men, but I’ve never seen a man so hurt and destroyed by mental pain. When Demon mentions Esme’s tattoo and the significance, he’s openly crying, weeping into his hands. Demon and I give him some time to get his grief under control. Brett goes up in my estimation as slowly he fights for that inner strength inside him.

  When at last he stops sobbing, Demon emphasises, “She wasn’t molested, Brett. The woman who helped her escape got her out in time, but she will need therapy. She’s not even talking. How much she knows of what might have happened, no one can tell.”

  “Oh, she’s said a couple of words,” I correct, trying to lighten things up and give him some hope. “She tells people to pay up.” Or at least, she has me and Mace.

  “Pay up?” Brett’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

  Demon chuckles. “We’ve been trying not to swear around her. If we do—and we fuck up a lot—we give her a dollar. There are two fuckin’ swear jars out on the bar, probably close to overflowing by now.”

  Which he now owes two dollars to, but I hold my tongue, thinking it’s probably best not to point that out.

  Brett tries to process this information. “You’re saying you’ve been trying to make her more comfortable around you? Fuck, she must hate men now. I don’t know what to do, Mr Black. She’s already damaged. I don’t know where to start getting the help that she needs. What do I do?” It’s a rhetorical question which he doesn’t expect us to answer, I can already see wheels turning.

  “Why’s she the way she is? Has she got some kind of condition?” I ask.

  Now Esme’s father’s eyes harden. “She wasn’t born this way. We had been given the gift of a beautiful, healthy baby girl, and we wanted to bring her up and help her thrive the best we could. She was normal, if you want to term it that. Trouble was, there’s a history of congenital immune system problems in her mom’s fam
ily. We were advised that Esme shouldn’t be vaccinated because of that history, that there was a risk if we did, that she’d have health problems. We wanted to do the best for our girl, so took the doctor’s advice. He said the incidence of her catching something was low to non-existent, as the US was mostly clear of mumps and measles.”

  “She caught something?” Demon’s face has gone dark.

  “Seemed a couple of the parents at her playgroup were anti-vaxxers. Of course, we didn’t know, and it still shouldn’t have been a problem, but one of the kids brought something back from a visit to see Mickey Mouse, and it wasn’t a toy. It was a virus which was passed onto Esme. She was three years old when she caught measles.” His brow creases in remembered pain. “Measles. Such a simple word, yet no one understands just how devastating the complications can be. Esme’s brain swelled. We were warned we could lose her. As it was, we had to watch while she was having convulsion after convulsion. I wouldn’t wish that on any parent. She lived, and I thank God for that every day. But it left her disabled intellectually.” His eyes rise to Demon’s. “You’ve got kids, for heaven’s sake vaccinate them. For the sake of kids like Esme, if not for themselves. Esme was fine before she got ill. After…” he waves his hands as though there are no words to describe it.

  Jeez. Never having had kids, I hadn’t come down on one side or the other of the vaccination argument, but hearing Brett? Must admit, I didn’t realise how what I thought was a simple childhood disease could have such disastrous consequences.

  My eyes rise to Demon’s who confirms, “Theo has been vaccinated and any other babies we have will also be.”

  “What happened didn’t change how we felt about her. She’s everything to me,” Brett says sincerely, challenging us to say Esme’s worth any less than anyone else. “Damn near broke both of us when she went missing. It’s only hope that she was out there somewhere and would be home one day that kept us putting one foot in front of the other. We never gave up searching, even when the police stopped actively looking. We haven’t any other children, not because we’d be taking the same risk, but because we made a conscious decision to ensure she was the centre of our universe. She’s special in so many ways. Happy, chatty…” he stops when he realises she’s not talking now.