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

by Manda Mellett

  No. No. No, no, no, no, no. I was twenty-six when I went on tour. My boy was two.

  I’ve got no kids. No. No way.

  I was twenty-four on my last tour.

  Cas is not related to me.

  And Vanna? She’s not my type…

  Vanna. She’s not my type. Not my type. Not my type…

  I hear a keening sound that seems to be coming from me. My head explodes with pain, agony so great I can barely see. I stagger back into my room, grab my cut and take out the bottle of Advil. It’s fucking empty.

  I launch myself toward the door, weaving like a drunk, slamming into the wood as though my limbs don’t belong to me.

  Mace. Mace will get me something for my head. He’s in the next room. All I’ve got to do is open the door, take a few steps, and he’ll get me some relief.

  Fuck, but this is the worst one yet.

  I open the door, take the first step, then crash into the wall, dropping to my knees, my hands cradling my head.

  “Help,” I cry weakly.

  “Who the fuck’s crashing around this time on a… Liz?”

  For Christ’s sake stop! Someone is banging on a door, each thump slamming into my head.

  “Liz? For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong, Lizard?”

  “Cas…”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mace

  Who the fuck is crashing around this time of the morning?

  I smile as I hear Judge’s voice. It’s not just me they’ve woken up. Judge will sort it. I turn over, plump my pillow, and close my eyes. I’m going back to sleep.

  But apparently, I’m not as a loud banging on my door sounds. “What the fuck now?” I grumble to myself, knowing the enforcer side of me is going to come out if I’m being disturbed just because someone’s had too much to drink.

  I open my door and immediately spy my brother on his knees.

  “Liz? For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong, Lizard?”

  “Cas…”

  Then he’s flat on the floor.

  “Liz? Come on, Brother. Wake up. You lay one on last night?”

  “He went to bed early, Mace.” Sparky, also disturbed it seems, informs me as he comes up hastily buttoning his pants. “He could have had a bottle in his room, but I didn’t see him drink.”

  Leaning down I smell his breath, I get the odour of body sweat, but no alcohol.

  “Liz?” I give his shoulder a gentle shake. “Liz, Bro, you’re worrying me. Wake the fuck up.” Then I shout to no one in particular, “Get Rusty.”

  Only minutes later when Liz still hasn’t stirred, Rusty appears, his fingers scratching at the ginger hairs covering his bare chest. “What’s up with him?” he says through a wide yawn.

  “Don’t know. Just found him like this.”

  “Drunk?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  As Rusty folds to his knees, creaking sounds coming as he does so, I watch as he checks Lizard’s pulse, then gently raises his eyelids.

  “I don’t like this, Mace,” he admits, his worried eyes rising to meet mine. “Think we need to call a bus.”

  “Can we take him?”

  Rusty shakes his head. “The faster the paramedics are here the better. Hell, if he’s not passed out drunk, fuck knows what could have happened. His pulse is erratic, could be a heart attack or a stroke for all I can tell.”

  Sparky is already on his phone calling nine-one-one. He’s relating what Rusty has just said.

  “Brother, hang in there,” I’m crouched down again. I take Lizard’s hand, it seems cold. It’s only then I remember what he had said. Cas. Or had he? Had he been trying to say something else? Perhaps he’d been trying to tell me he can’t breathe or something. Maybe I just imagined he’d said his son’s name. Wishful thinking perhaps.

  Or had he remembered, and the shock had been so severe as to have such drastic results? Fuck, I hope not. It would have been my fault allowing Vanna to bring Cas here.

  The sound of sirens is a welcome relief, especially when the sound is cut off as it means help is here.

  Beaver ushers the paramedics up the stairs.

  “Stand back,” one speaks authoritatively.

  Looking around, I spy all of the brothers who live here are now out of their rooms and gathered around. Getting up, I enforce the medic’s instructions. “Give them some fuckin’ space.”

  “Has he been drinking?”

  “We don’t think so,” I answer the medic. “Could have, but I’d say no.”

  “He was on his knees, then just collapsed,” says Judge.

  “Pulse is weak and erratic,” Rusty observes.

  The medics check everything for themselves. It’s no surprise when they decide to take him in. I remember just as they’re putting Liz onto a stretcher.

  “He’s been getting severe headaches. They’ve increased in frequency lately. Oh, and he was invalided out of the Marines as he suffered a severe brain injury from being too close to an explosion. He lost parts of his memory which have never returned.”

  They’re clearly wasting no time. Neither am I. As they take Lizard away, I’m back in my room pulling on a shirt and my cut then my boots and picking up keys, using my fingers to comb down my hair. I’m not the only one to have gotten hastily dressed and headed down the stairs and out through the main door. There’s a lot of company with me as I run for my bike.

  Lizard, you old fucker. You’re going to be alright. He’s got to be. He’s still young, got a good life ahead of him. All he’s got to do now is wake up and live it.

  The waiting area becomes more and more crowded, and in the end the hospital personnel moves us all to a room where we can wait in private. Before an hour’s gone by, even the brothers and old ladies who live off-compound have turned up.

  Demon’s pacing left to right. Frustrated that he’s a man down and he doesn’t know why. He comes to a halt in front of me, a fist slamming into his palm.

  “If someone had taken a shot at him, I’d be after that fucker now. Feel so damn helpless, Mace. His body has turned against him.”

  Beef comes over to join us. “Should Vanna be here?” He glances around presumably to check no one overheard his quietly spoken words.

  “No,” Demon answers him. “We’ve not been told anything. He might have already woken up and be chasing the nurses by now. Bring her here and we’d have to explain their relationship.”

  “Family of Norton James?” A male nurse has appeared by the door. When everyone stands, he scans all our faces. “The doctor would like to talk to someone about the headaches Mr James has been getting.”

  “I will.” I step forward, liking to think I know my brother more than most.

  “Is there any news?” Demon physically moves me to one side.

  “I’m sorry, no. Mr James is still unconscious.”

  So much for chasing the nurses. I give Demon a nod, then slide around him and follow the nurse.

  I’m shown into the emergency bay where they’re treating Lizard. He’s hooked up to machines and looks so damn pale. For a moment, I just stand staring, suppressing the impulse to shake the doctor and tell him to fucking wake him up. To do anything to get his eyes to open and his mouth to start working. But Lizard stays asleep, and the only sound is that fucking machine beeping.

  “Thank you for coming back here Mr…”

  “Grey,” I supply. “Fox Grey. But I’m known as Mace.”

  “Mace you prefer, I take it?”

  I don’t care what he fucking calls me as long as he tells me Liz is going to be okay.

  “Someone, you perhaps, told the paramedics that Mr James has been getting headaches. Were these unusual for him?”

  “Yes. Oh, he’d occasionally lay one on and get a hangover like we all do, but then he started complaining of headaches at odd times during the day. They’ve been getting worse and increasing in frequency. He got his eyes tested as he’s a tattoo artist and uses them a lot, but his sight is okay.”

  “When di
d the headaches start?”

  I think back. “Five, six months ago? I can’t really pinpoint it. Maybe before that, but I didn’t notice. Oh, and he had a traumatic brain injury about twelve years back. When he served.”

  “Yes, I’ve got his medical and TBI records. Had anything happened to start the headaches off? Did he come off his bike? Knock his head at all? Get into a fight and receive a blow?”

  “No.” I don’t even have to think about it. “He hasn’t come off his bike, and he’s not been fighting.” If our gym had been up and running there could have been a chance, but as it is, we’ve nowhere to spar. “He might have had a friendly slap around the head, but nothing serious. Oh, but that injury he had. He lost his memory.”

  “That was also noted in his records. His short-term memory improved I see, but there’s a big gap in his life. Has that started to come back at all?”

  I’m unsure whether it’s worthwhile mentioning, but I do anyway. Anything must be a help. So, I tell him about Vanna and Cas, and that for the past two weekends, they’ve visited the clubhouse. But as the doctor says, his headaches started long before that, and in his view, those are the symptoms he should be worrying about.

  “MRI’s free now, Doctor Hollister.”

  “Let’s take him down. Can you find your way back to the waiting room?”

  I say I can.

  “Oh,” he stops me as they’re transferring the portable monitoring equipment to his gurney. “If this woman is his wife, perhaps she should be here?”

  “They’ve lived apart for more than ten years, Doc. No divorce, but only a couple of my brothers know what she is to him. When Liz comes around, he’ll think it’s an invasion of his privacy if she was informed and his past that he can’t remember comes out. It was his therapist’s advice that they live separately.”

  His eyes widen at that. “His official next of kin is listed as one David Black.”

  I nod. It would be. “That’s our Prez.”

  “He’s here?”

  Again, I nod, then step aside so they can take Lizard away. As I watch him being wheeled down the corridor, I wish I believed in some sort of deity so I could offer up a prayer. I don’t. I just hope his time to meet Satan hasn’t yet arrived.

  “He’s gone for an MRI.” I update everyone as soon as I enter the room they’re in. “Hopefully we’ll know more after that.”

  “Why wasn’t that the first thing they did?” Cad snaps.

  I shrug. I don’t know. But maybe he had to wait his turn or be stabilised or some such shit.

  “Man, this is bad. Never thought anything could stop that man.”

  I nod at Wills. Lizard has always been active and healthy, his ability to shake off a cold is renowned. To see someone like him brought low affects us all. But now I know about the blow to the head and the severity of it, I’m wondering if my brother was a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode.

  Did any of us cause it? I’d told the doctor the truth about him not having any serious bangs to the head, though I’d cuffed him on the ear myself a couple of times. But hell, some of the things he comes out with, he deserves it. Could a jesting blow have caused him to collapse? Christ, I fucking hope not.

  I swear the clock on the wall is ticking far too slowly. I seem to be counting off minutes which feel like hours. Some of the brothers go on a coffee run, and Mel, Vi and Beth go to raid the vending machines for candy.

  When Beef stands to stretch his legs, I grab one of the few chairs, and sit with my legs splayed and my hands clasped between them, my head bowed. Lizard. You have got to be okay. You can’t fuckin’ die now. Who am I going to share women with? Ink’s got Beth, he’s no fun anymore. You’ve got to recover with your cock in working order, and we’ll share some pussy together.

  Not Shayla though. If I ever get near her with my cock, ain’t gonna be sharing her. No, she’s all mine—for the night anyway.

  She’s the only one of the women not here now. The prospects will have to keep her company. Karl, Beaver, Dirt and Nails are holding down the fort back home.

  The door opens, but it’s only those who went for coffee coming in and passing cups around. Next time, it’s the girls returning and giving out sugary bars.

  Finally, when the garbage bin is filled to overflowing with disposable cups, the door opens and at last it’s the doctor.

  “David Black.”

  “That’s me,” says Demon. “But we’re all his family and want to know how he is, and what you’ve found.”

  “He’s still the same as when he came in, but we’ve done an MRI scan. Mr James has got a meningioma, a tumour in his brain. It’s fairly large, and I suspect it’s been growing for some time having heard about these headaches he’s been having.”

  “A tumour? Is… is it cancer?” Demon cautiously asks.

  That dreaded fucking C word. I hold my breath waiting for the doctor’s reply.

  “We can’t tell at the moment whether it’s malignant or benign. I also can’t tell you right now about the treatment, whether we’ll be able to shrink it, or whether it needs surgery to be removed, but it can’t be left as it is, as it’s clearly interfering with his functions, hence the coma he is in. We’ve got the on-call neurologist coming to assess him.”

  “Will he recover?” Demon asks. Again, I hold my breath.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that either. Hopefully, we’ll know more when the neurologist has been able to examine him. He’ll be transferred to the neurology ward shortly.”

  “Is he likely to wake up?” Ink asks.

  My hands fist as I wait to hear the doctor say I don’t know one more time. I’m not to be disappointed.

  “I’m very sorry, but it’s impossible to tell. It is possible, but I would say unlikely unless we can ease the pressure being caused by the meningioma.”

  I pipe up with a question of my own. “Is this likely to have been caused by his original brain injury?”

  I wait for the answer I’m sure I’ll hear once again, but this time the doctor surprises me. “The VA might disagree, or at least that would be their go-to response, but yes, I think that’s quite possible. A lot of work has been done which links subsequent meningiomas with previous traumatic damage to the brain. Of course, as these take years to form, cause and effect are hard to prove, but research would suggest there are a disproportionate number of these tumours appearing in vets who’ve suffered a TBI.”

  Knowing doesn’t help Lizard, but it helps me. If true, it would mean it wasn’t down to me forcing Vanna and Cas onto him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mace

  “What’s the news, Prez?”

  Demon and I have barely entered the clubroom when questions start to fly. With the unlikely prognosis that Lizard wouldn’t be waking any time soon on his own, a few hours ago, men had started to return to the clubhouse. I’d stayed on with Demon and am now right behind him.

  “The neurologist has seen him.” He begins his update to the hushed room. “His view is that the tumour needs to be removed.”

  “Will they do a biopsy first? To find out whether it’s cancer or not?” Sparky walks closer.

  “No point as it needs to come out anyway. Apparently, it’s causing intracranial pressure which is responsible for putting him into a coma. They’re worried there may be a bleed that the tumour is masking.”

  “What are his chances?” Judge asks, his jaw clenched.

  Demon shakes his head. “At the moment, they are being cautious and aren’t prepared to say. Removing the tumour may bring him back to us, or it could go the other way.”

  I hear gasps from the couches where the women are sitting. Jayden’s hand is covering her mouth, and Vi’s dabbing tears from her eyes. Beth has her arm around Mel, and Steph has her face buried in Max’s fur. Jeannie and Sindy looked equally shocked. As are we all, this has happened so fast.

  Ever since we’d spoken to the experts, I’ve been trying to come to terms with what I heard. The though
t of my brother having an operation on his fucking brain is shattering. The idea I might never laugh, joke, drink, or share women with him again is, well, I haven’t words to describe what that would mean to me.

  We’re bikers and we know our lives could be cut short at any time. We could come off our bikes or be shot by members of a rival MC. That this life is full of danger is part of the attraction. Who wants to live a nine-to-five in a safe suburban house? Not me, that’s for fucking certain. I just never suspected Liz could be betrayed by his own body.

  “When?” Beef asks.

  “Tomorrow, Monday. They want to make sure he’s stabilised first.”

  “Could the tumour do more damage in that time?” Wills looks concerned.

  I contribute to the discussion. “It’s a slow growing one. Lizard must have been living with this for literally years. They’re convinced they’ve got time.”

  Prez looks around, noting everyone seems to be here, then catches my eye and raises his chin. “Church in an hour,” he announces.

  I nod. Convinced he’s doing the right thing as we’d discussed while sitting vigil, hoping Lizard would come around. We’ve got some decisions to make which is why Prez is calling everyone together.

  Knowing I could do with a shower, having missed out on mine earlier this morning, I cross the room to the stairs and start to make my way up. On the top step sits Shayla. As she looks up at me, I see her eyes glistening.

  “I heard,” she admits in a whisper.

  Christ. Of all the men here, she’s most at her ease with me and Lizard, us being the ones she’d first told her sorry tale to. Of course she’s going to feel sad for the man whose prognosis is uncertain.

  “You could have come down. Liz’s condition isn’t a secret,” I tell her.

  “I didn’t want to intrude,” she replies. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  It’s been a long ass day, starting even before dawn had lightened the sky when Lizard collapsed outside my room. He’d been trying to get to me, I’m certain. He just didn’t make it in time. I lean my head against the wall before I answer her. Then I just say, “It’s bad, babe.”