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

by Manda Mellett

  “She’s fuckin’ talented. My brother’s currently having one of her drawings painted on his gas tank,” I tell him.

  “She can draw,” Brett agrees. He looks from me to Demon. “Art is the way she expresses herself. Is the woman who rescued her here? I’d like to thank her. I owe her so much.”

  Prez shakes his head. “No. She wanted to keep moving, she’s worried about Major tracking her down and taking her back with him. She left Esme in our care. We’ve several old ladies here who’ve been caring for her. My wife, for one, as you saw just now.”

  “Is Esme in danger from this Major?”

  “Not going to lie to you, Brett. Short answer is, I don’t know. Long answer? You got a gun?” When Brett nods, Demon continues, “I’d keep it on you and don’t let Esme out of your sight. Oh, go to the press, get them to print a story about how she’s back. Also, go to the cops. I don’t know what the law is in Arizona, but in Colorado, it’s illegal to tattoo anyone like Esme. That, for a start, with no other evidence, is enough to have them searching for Major. May make him go to ground, or at least make it too hot for him to try and get his hands on her again.”

  My fear is that he’ll want his property back. But all we can do is impress on Brett the need to take precautions, and hopefully they’ll be enough. We can’t keep Esme away from her parents, she needs more than we can give her.

  Brett’s head is dipping up and down slowly. “I’ll talk to the cops. See about getting her some protection. As you say, making a noise about her return may keep this Major at a distance. I doubt any prosecution will stick, though. Esme, well she’s not a credible witness.”

  “We’re not giving up searching for Major.” Something passes between Brett and Demon, acknowledged only by lifts of their chins.

  “What about this fucking tattoo on her back?” Brett looks toward me. “Can I get it removed?”

  I give him my advice. “It would have to be done professionally. Not by some quack. Will take ten or twelve sessions in my estimation, or she could cover it up. Vi can show you the design she did for Shayla. I know Esme liked that.”

  Brett’s head falls into his hands. “I don’t know what’s best to do, but I know I hate it and I’ve not even seen it.” He thinks for a moment. “If I go to the cops, will it cause trouble for your club?”

  Demon shakes his head. “They’re welcome to talk to us. We run a legit tattoo parlour; we’ve got nothing to hide. We didn’t touch her tattoo ourselves, so we’re in the clear. But there’s not a lot we can tell them. Our tech guy traced you through public records and the noise you made about Esme on social media.”

  “But you didn’t go straight to them to tell them you’d found an underage girl who’s been abused. Fucked up badly enough she refuses to talk.”

  Demon leans forward, his hands clasped on the desk in front of him and his eyes flare. “Didn’t know who her parents were, Brett. Could have been some sorry fuckers who sold their own kid. Cops could have passed her back to her family who’d simply give her to the likes of Major, again. No, we couldn’t risk that. Not until we’d checked her home situation out.”

  Brett stares at Demon, then huffs, and proves he’s not stupid at all. “The visit from the journalist on a motorcycle? I thought it odd the press was resurrecting the story, but at this point we’d clutch at any straw offered so we talked to him.”

  “She’s got a lovely room, I’m told.” Demon smirks.

  Esme’s dad is quiet as everything sinks in. “Thank you,” Brett says suddenly, his eyes filling with tears once again. “You did your best, I can see that. Others might just have wanted shot of a disabled girl, but you, you helped her. Thank you on behalf of all the Esme’s out there. I’d like to thank the woman who helped her as well. Between her and you, she’s had some angels watching out for her.”

  Not angels, I mentally correct him, or maybe the one. But it’s Devils who been looking over her this past week.

  “Just sorry we weren’t there earlier,” replies Demon.

  Brett wipes his eyes once more and noisily blows his nose. “This is going to kill Maisie. How the hell do I tell her?”

  “She’s got her daughter back,” Demon says confidently. “It’s devastating, I know. But the what-ifs are worse.” He means she had so narrowly escaped being raped and ending up dead or never being found. Not much but he’s right, Brett needs to be grateful for small mercies. “What you’ve both got to do is help Esme get through this. Focus on her. One thing I will say is, she seems resilient.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Vanna

  “What’s going on?” I ask Mel, when there’s shouting coming from the clubroom.

  I’d noticed a young and strangely quiet girl, but assumed she was the daughter or relative of one of the members. But the way she’d left the kitchen with such a look of disbelief and hope on her face made me think it was something more.

  When Mel fills me in on her story, I have to find a chair. Mel said no one knew for certain, but they thought she was fourteen or fifteen, and I agree, she didn’t look much older. She’s the same age as Cas.

  Boys could be pimped out the same way as girls, I know that of course, but I’d never dreamed I’d have to fear him being taken. Just the thought is unbearable, and Mel has to put a tissue into my hand as I consider it. Cas has been sneaking out at all hours, when he’s staying around his friends, and I’m never quite certain what he gets up to there. What if one day he just never returned? I don’t think I’d be able to bear it.

  “They haven’t seen her for more than four months?” When Mel nods, I think what a happy reunion they’ll be having, but then realise that will be tinged with grief. From what I’ve been told, Esme has retained her virginity thank God, but must have lost her innocence and bore witness to the depravity of men. How does a parent cope with that knowledge?

  Vi appears in the doorway, one hand on the doorjamb. “Demon’s talking to Esme’s dad, I’m keeping Maisie, her mom, company. Can we have some coffee and some of your muffins if they’re ready, Mel?”

  “Yes, I’ll bring them out. I’ve got those cupcakes Esme likes too.”

  “Thanks, oh, and Demon’s explaining everything to Esme’s dad. I think he should be the one to update Maisie. She’s just happy that Esme’s safe and well.” Vi gives a sad smile. “Well, I think she’s happy, she’s not been able to stop crying yet.”

  At least she’s got her partner to lean on, I think, perhaps a little waspishly. Then want to slap myself around the head. What that poor woman’s going through, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, and she doesn’t even know the worst as yet.

  Not wanting to crowd her, Mel and I stay in the kitchen and continue baking. Mel explains that she loves cooking here as the equipment’s much larger than what she and Pyro have in their house.

  The men who aren’t working today pop in from time to time and that tub of muffins Mel baked start to disappear. I help her prepare another batch. The simple chores of working alongside her help me come to terms with the words Liz had thrown at me earlier—his justification why Cas could in no way be a son of his. It had hurt. Guess I had my answer about whether he and I had a chance of getting back together. None.

  Obeying her instruction, I take Mel’s next batch of muffins out of the oven, acting on autopilot, while thoughts race around my head. There are worse things than being a single mom with a wayward son, as Esme had proved. What if Cas was taken from me? I don’t think I could survive it.

  I should be thankful of what I’ve got and accept miracles don’t happen.

  So deep in my thoughts, I’m not sure how long it’s been before Esme comes into the kitchen, dragging her mom and dad along.

  “Er, we’re going now. Esme wanted to say thank you and goodbye to everyone.”

  Mel brushes flour off of her hands. “You got a hug for me, Esme?”

  Apparently, she has. And one for me as well, though we’ve not met. Max and Bagel who’ve snuck in and are lying under the tabl
e hopefully waiting for crumbs to drop also get hugs and kisses, and Esme gets her face licked by two lolling tongues in return.

  “Bitch?”

  When Esme asks, Mel covers her mouth. “You spoke,” she comments delightedly.

  Esme’s mom’s face has tightened. “Not sure that’s a good first word,” she remarks.

  Mel enlightens her. “Inappropriate for certain, but that’s the name of our cat. You want to go find her, sweetie? I think I saw her going up the stairs.

  “She’s here, Mel,” Vi calls out, coming in with a wriggling bundle of fur in her arms. The cat seems to settle when Esme reaches out and takes her, and when she nuzzles her face in its fur, it purrs.

  Still sniffling and wiping away another tear, Maisie gives a weak grin. “I won’t ask how she got her name.”

  Mel rolls her eyes. “That’s easy. She hates men and scratches them when they go near her. Women she tolerates, kids, for some reason, she loves. Oh, and not dogs…”

  Esme’s put the cat down. Bitch gives a loud hiss and arches her back. Immediately Max and Bagel slink away and disappear into the clubroom.

  “Well, we’ll be off now. Thank you. Thank you for finding her.” Maisie shrugs as if those are insufficient words. When Esme follows them, Maisie backs out of the kitchen keeping her daughter well in sight.

  As she’s still thanking anyone and anybody, Lizard walks over to the bar.

  “Nails? Beaver? Amalgamate her fuckin’ money will you? Put it all in one jar.” He then turns to her dad. “Reckon she’s got the makings of a college fund here.”

  My eyes widen when I see how many dollars are in the jars. They really do swear a lot.

  “Er, what do you want to do with the IOUs, Liz? Half the brothers aren’t here.”

  Lizard sighs as he replies to Beaver, “Tally them up and I’ll make good on them. Brothers will owe me instead. I’ll make sure they fuckin’ pay.” His eyes close. With a sigh, he shakes his head, takes out his wallet, and another couple of dollars joins the growing pile.

  In the end, the prospects have to use a garbage sack, which Beaver hands to Esme’s dad. When he takes it, I notice the man’s movements are jerky. I take it he’s unsure what to make of the bikers and their generosity.

  Then, Esme and her family are gone, and the clubroom falls silent. From the little I’ve heard, that family will have a long way to go before they get back anywhere near normal. Still, Esme going home with them must be a good start. A blind man would have been able to tell how much she is loved.

  “I’m going to start making pies to go into the freezer, Vanna. Want to come keep me company?”

  “Yeah, Mel…”

  The clubhouse door opens, banging back on the hinges loudly. The sound makes me spin around, and there’s my son, followed by Mace whose face looks as black as thunder.

  What the hell has he done now?

  Cas comes stomping over to me with that sullen expression on his face I know only too well.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he gets in first.

  “He put his hands on a brother’s bike without asking permission,” Mace snarls as he reaches his side. “Started the fuckin’ engine.”

  “I wanted to know what it sounded like.” Cas has a strange look on his face, defiant and challenging.

  “Mace told you not to touch the bikes.” I remember him telling him the rules that day in my kitchen.

  I know exactly what Cas has done. He’s pushed over the line to see what he can get away with. It’s something he’s done with me time after time. I sigh heavily, uncertain as always how to deal with him. Ground him? Take his Xbox away? I know only too well that only increases his resentment and worsens his behaviour. I thought he’d been making progress this week but being back on the compound has set him off, and I suspect it was the earlier altercation between him and Liz.

  For the moment, I ignore him. “Mace, I’m so sorry…”

  “Who’s fuckin’ bike was it?” a low voice growls. The voice that still has the power to send shivers through me.

  Mace looks over my shoulder at the man standing behind me. He stiffens slightly before he replies, “Yours, Liz.”

  “I left it there to have that fuckin’ rattle looked at, not to have grubby hands all over it. He fuckin’ started it?” Liz now directs himself to Cas. “You dared to touch my ride?”

  It’s worse now I know it’s Lizard’s bike. In an instant, I realise Cas isn’t so comfortable with the fact his father doesn’t acknowledge him as he’d implied. It was his dad’s bike he dared touch, and in another life, he’d probably have been encouraged and not denied. But there’s no relationship except unbeknownst to Lizard, they share the same blood.

  I can see Cas vibrating with rage and perhaps something else. Disappointment, as though he’s realised however he tries, Lizard won’t give him any special treatment because he doesn’t know of any reason he should. I let my eyes flash a signal to Cas, Keep your mouth shut. I’m crossing my fingers he doesn’t blurt out the truth.

  Lizard looks tired and drawn, but then he had just sat through what was probably a very difficult meeting with Esme’s dad. No wonder he looks pale. It’s a similar look to how he’d often returned from a tour, exhausted and drained. Of course, back then, I’d pandered to him, ran him a bath, given him a massage, my hands easing his pain and tension away until he started to relax. Then tension of a different sort would arise, one that was easily dealt with when we fell into bed, or, as many times, Lizard’s need for me had become so urgent, he’d taken me up against the bathroom counter, the bed proving too far.

  Now I’ve no right to touch him. I’m unable to show my vested interest in easing his pain, but he’s in no state to have the truth thrown at him.

  Freckles are darkening as Cas’s face reddens. He’s going to blow.

  “Come on, Cas. Our bags are still in the car.” It had been raining so hard, I’d told him we’d get them later, and so far, I haven’t had a chance to bring them inside. Stepping forward, I take his arm. “We’ll go home.” I turn toward Mace. “I’m sorry.” Once again, I’m apologising for my son’s behaviour. It’s something I do time after time.

  “Yeah, get out of here. You’re not welcome here, kid.”

  Cas pulls out of my hold and swings around. “Who do you think you fucking are?” he shouts at Lizard.

  Oh God, no! I throw a pleading look toward Mace.

  Stepping between Lizard and my son, Mace’s voice belts out, “Go with your mom, now.”

  For the first time, I hear him use the voice he must bring into play when being the enforcer and keeping everyone in line. It’s a half bark, half snarl. A command that must be obeyed. Luckily, it pulls Cas up, shocking him. His attention now turns to the enforcer, and he stands with his mouth gaping.

  Like a light going on, I think it dawns on him what a spectacle he’s making, and how he’s taken things too far. His lip starts to tremble as he glances at me, then looks at Mace.

  “Can… can we come back?” he asks.

  “No, you fuckin’ can’t.” After that pronouncement, Lizard storms off.

  “I’ll walk you out.” Mace’s voice has dropped to a more reasonable tone.

  Now it’s stopped raining, the sun has come out and the pavement is steaming. Really this weather should be the other way around, black clouds would better match my current mood.

  Mace sees us into my car then stands with the driver’s door open, bending down to talk to us inside.

  “I’m sorry, Vanna, Cas, but this isn’t working. Hear me out, Cas.” Mace hardens his voice as my son starts to voice an objection. “Lizard isn’t ever going to recognise you. You can see the place he’s in now. He’s happy with his life, and anything you tell him wouldn’t be appreciated.” He pauses, and sighs. “I know my brother. If Liz knew his responsibilities, say you took a DNA test and proved it to him—and believe me, that’s what it would take—and you removed any doubts he could have in his head, you’d fuck him up more. He�
��d step up, give you money. But hell, Vanna,” his eyes go to Cas’s and he gives it to him straight, “right now he doesn’t even like Cas.”

  “He’s my dad,” Cas says quietly, a sob in his voice. So alien from my boy who tries so hard to pretend he’s a grown man.

  Without looking in that direction, Mace waves his hand behind him. “Every man here chose this family. Blood counts for nothing. Told you, you had to work for his respect, Cas. Well, you’ve lost it now.”

  Cas wipes a tear from his eyes, then looks at the wetness on the back of his hand as though he can’t believe what it is. I can’t remember the last time he cried.

  “Look,” Mace continues, “I hope it works out for you. If Cas needs a lawyer, Mel’s dad is an attorney who lives in Denver. He can perhaps find one to help you out.” I go to tell him I’m all set for that, but in the end I don’t bother. The offer is a nice gesture and I shouldn’t be throwing it back in his face. But I can’t take any help from the club, especially when he continues, “It’s best that you don’t come back. Best for Lizard and best for you.” He glances at Cas, then focuses on my face. “It’s not doing you or Cas any good, Vanna.”

  I can’t tell him that’s a lie.

  He closes the door, a jerk of his chin replacing the word goodbye. Then he nods at Karl who opens the gate, and I start the engine and drive out.

  Cas leans around, watching the compound fade in the distance behind us. We’re a few miles away before he speaks.

  “I fucked up good this time, didn’t I, Mom?”

  Fighting back my own tears, I don’t reply. Not even to admonish him for swearing. Mace was right, it’s best we keep away from the compound. Lizard had said it himself; he doesn’t want Cas anywhere near him, and as for me? He couldn’t have put it any better. I’m not his type.