Peg's Stand (Satan's Devils MC #6)

by Manda Mellett

  I shake my head. Put like that, I don’t know. What if Peg gets caught? What I couldn’t live with is knowing he was locked away because of what Pete had done to me. One more thing that bastard would have taken away.

  Rolling his head back on his shoulders, Peg pauses, his eyes on the ceiling for a moment, then he looks down and steps toward me. Gesturing with his hands, I translate he wants me to move over and give him some space to sit down. When he does, he bends his good leg and rests his knee on the couch, turning to face me.

  “I’m going to tell you club business, because I think you need to know. It’s makin’ you crazy not knowin’ if anything’s being done. Assure you, babe. We’re not sitting on our asses.” He gives me an intense look. “Anything I say stays here in this room.”

  As he regards me intently, I nod, curiosity piquing.

  “If Pete goes to prison, he won’t be comin’ out.”

  “Huh. He could get a light sentence…”

  “Listen to me. He won’t be comin’ out.” The forceful stare he gives me allows me to interpret his meaning.

  “Oh.” I purse my lips. “Even if he is arrested, if he gets the same judge, and uses that clever lawyer, he might not even go inside.”

  Peg sighs and doesn’t seem comfortable. “We’ve got a plan. Mouse’s diggin’ turned some stuff up. Mercer Senior has the judge and a senior cop in his pocket. And that’s who we’re going after.”

  “The judge?”

  A mirthless laugh. “No, Mercer, Pete’s father.” A pause, as though he’s struggling with telling me stuff usually not shared outside of the brothers. A quick nod, as though he’s sealing his resolve, then he starts with the serious stuff. “Okay, here it is. Mercer cons people into signing loan agreements with a hidden clause that can be invoked any time. Allows him to charge interest at well over a thousand percent.”

  Wow. “That’s a huge amount.”

  “He also flags them up as a credit risk, and they can’t get a loan anywhere else. That’s what happened to Cherry Orchard, the witness who came forward for Pete. Her father had taken out a loan with him, and Mercer threatened to raise the rates. Mouse has done his magic and got the flags removed, and Cherry’s father got a new loan and will be able to pay off the one with Mercer’s bank. When he does so, Cherry is willin’ to change her story.”

  “And tell the police all about them?” That would get rid of both Mercers.

  Peg sighs. “Maybe. But there’s nothing in writing. A verbal suggestion from Pete Mercer to Cherry.” Peg’s eyes stare off into the distance for a moment. “Orchard was furious when he found out, but has agreed not to approach Mercer Senior for now, to give us time to dig up more dirt. And at least he can breathe easy knowin’ there’s no longer a threat being held over his, or his daughter’s head.”

  Suddenly my hand goes over my mouth. “Pete will be furious. He might hurt Cherry…”

  Peg’s attention is firmly on me again. “Don’t you think we’ve thought of that? That’s why we’re holding back on Cherry changin’ her story. If we wrap this up ourselves, she won’t get into trouble for lyin’ to the police. For now, Pete doesn’t know anything about it.”

  Now I’m curious. “How are you going to wrap this up?”

  “We’ve taken out a loan.”

  “You?” I can’t for the life of me see how that’s going to help.

  “Yeah, well, the club. It was too easy. We think Mercer might have use of some of what he thinks are services the club offers. In fact, it’s moving faster than we hoped. Prez has been invited to the golf club he goes to. It was phrased as some new customer welcome bullshit, but I figure Drummer’s going to be given a choice. Pay extortionate interest or do the work Mercer wants.”

  “But you’ve only just taken out the loan. You could simply repay it.”

  “Mouse has fixed it so it looks like we’ve already spent the money.”

  “But isn’t it risky? If Drummer goes to meet him and is threatened, it’s only his word against his, surely?”

  “Drummer’s going in with a wire. Everything Mercer says will be recorded. And that’s the info we can take to the police. Anyone awarded a loan from Mercer’s bank will be suspect. Cherry will testify, and Pete will be up in front of an independent judge. There’ll be no chance for him then.”

  Suddenly something hits me. “Pete… He mentioned I’d mucked up his plans, that I never took him to meet my family. Is that anything to do with this?” Perhaps if I can find some explanation for his behaviour, it would all make sense. I could never understand why Pete had targeted me in the first place.

  “Your dad owns a pharmaceutical company, doesn’t he?”

  I give a half-hearted smile. “Mouse checked me out.”

  Peg doesn’t bother to confirm or deny it. “An in with that sort of business might open up opportunities for Mercer.”

  “You mean drugs.” Vehemently I shake my head. “My father would never agree to anything like that.”

  “With ruination hanging over his head? Or is he so straight he’d prefer to lose his company? His livelihood? His house? No one knows what they’d do until they were tested.”

  Who am I to say? I might have lived with him for the first eighteen years of my life, but I don’t know my father at all. Or my mother, come to that.

  “Do you really think your plan will work and solve everything?” I stand and walk over to the balcony door, seeing, but not taking in the fabulous view.

  “It will solve it in that Pete’s not walkin’ around anymore and won’t be able to hurt you.” I hear footsteps behind, then Peg’s slowly turning me around to face him. “What I can’t guarantee it will settle, is how you’re feelin’ in there.” His thumb gently soothes across my forehead.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I admit.

  Again, his grey eyes regard me intently. “I want you to go to counsellin’.”

  Make me go through my ordeal again? Explain it to another person? Bring my weakness out into the open? “Talking to someone wouldn’t do any good.”

  He bobs his head up and down. “Yes, it will. Look, Slick’s spoken to Jayden and Ella, and they’re both happy to talk to you. If you can get Jayden on her own without Paladin that is.”

  “Why Ella and Jayden?”

  “Ella was gang raped, and Jayden was groomed and forced to provide sexual services to men.”

  Once again, my hand covers my mouth. “But Jayden’s so young!” She’s such a sweet girl, I can’t bear the thought anything like that happened to her.

  “At the time she was only fourteen.” Peg’s lips purse.

  I can’t believe it. Ella’s always happy and smiling, and Jayden’s just like any teenage girl. “But they’re so strong. You wouldn’t know anything had happened to them.”

  “They went to counsellin’, babe. And Slick says it helped. Let’s give it a try for you, okay?”

  I think for a moment. If counselling helped them, should I try it? Rather than talking about it, I’d much rather forget. Yeah, and you’re doing a fantastic job on that. Nightmares every night reliving what Pete did.

  Peg waits patiently while I have my internal battle. I make a decision after a few moments. “Okay,” I say softly.

  “Okay? I’ll set it up? Find out who Ella recommends?”

  “On one condition.” When he raises that quizzical brow I continue, “That you take me, Peg. Hyde did what he could to make me feel safe, but I’ll be happier if you’re there.” I tug on the edges of his cut. “My very own sergeant-at-arms to protect me. You wouldn’t let Pete get anywhere close.”

  “Too fuckin’ right.”

  Chapter 38

  Peg

  Drum’s invitation is for two people.

  “You need your sergeant-at-arms by your side,” I state, fixing my eyes on him.

  “Uh oh, VP.” Wraith points at himself.

  “Treasurer. You’ll be talkin’ money after all.”

  The prez wipes his hand over his beard and
shakes his head towards Blade, who was clearly going to offer to attend as enforcer. “Peg,” He says decisively, pointing straight at me. As a wave of protests begin, Drummer bangs the gavel. “Shut up and let me speak.” His glare encompasses us all. “It’s Peg’s old lady that Mercer’s son’s been targetin’, Peg’s got a right to meet the man face to face. And I’ve got a right to have protection with me.”

  As I sit back, feeling relieved, Drum allows some time for his thoughts to settle in.

  “Peg’s too close. He might lose his temper.”

  “Wraith, I’m just going to be sittin’ back lettin’ Mercer drop himself in it.” I point my finger at the VP. “Ain’t gonna be sayin’ a word out of place.” Though it will be hard not to reach over the table and throttle him with my bare hands.

  “How d’you intend to play it, Prez?”

  “We’ll play it by ear. Figure I can bluff my way if I have to.” Drum changes the subject. “How’s Ma settlin’ in?”

  That makes me smile. “She’s doing great. Viper and Bullet’s crew have worked hard, set up a hoist over her bed so Sarah can get her in and out of the wheelchair. Adapted the bathroom as well, got ramps everywhere and handrails.” I laugh. “She told them ‘it’ll do’, which I translate that she’s overjoyed with it.”

  “Fuckin’ good food we’ve been gettin’.”

  Wraith’s certainly not wrong there. I don’t know how the old lady does it but telling the women to use an herb here or a spice there has made a fuckload of difference.

  Dollar frowns. “She told me I shouldn’t need to use a calculator. That in her day everyone did sums in their heads.”

  Yup. She always has a caustic comment for everyone. But I can’t forget that favour she did me, going to the press and giving us some mark of respectability.

  Two days later, Drummer and I park our bikes beside Jags and Ferraris and walk into the golf club’s restaurant. Our only nod at their fancy dress code is to wear clean jeans and button-down shirts under our cuts. Mercer must have prepared them to expect us, as apart from curious looks the members can’t hide, the staff don’t bat an eyelid at our approach, and simply take us directly to a private room.

  Mercer’s already waiting, and I take a moment to scrutinise the man who, by concocting the plan with his son, is indirectly responsible for causing my woman so much suffering. I already know he’s sixty, and he looks every year of his age. His cheeks reddened not by the sun, but by broken veins, suggesting an overindulgence in food and drink. A rounded face, and the way his jacket stretches around the button that he’s fastened as he stands, shrieks evidence of gluttony.

  In the same way I’m inspecting him, he’s observing me, and while his smile is supposed to be welcoming, there’s a calculating sharpness he can’t hide in the depth of his eyes. He reminds me of a shark I once saw in an aquarium.

  “Drummer. Glad you could make it.” He comes over and shakes Prez’s hand, then holds his out to me. “And you are?”

  “Peg.”

  “Peg.” He glances at my cut and sees my position. “Ah, sergeant-at-arms.” If my role bothers him, he gives no sign. “Well, now, both of you, please come and take a seat. I’ve ordered a taster menu for us, I hope that’s alright?”

  Dubiously eyeing up the amount of cutlery sitting either side of the plates, I’m wondering whether I’ll disgrace myself, though couldn’t really give a fuck either way. I’ve not come for food, as the tape tugging a little uncomfortably at my chest hair and pulling as I bend to take my seat reminds me.

  When we’re both sitting, servers appear, silently placing a plate with a tiny portion of something in front of me. I pick it up and finish it in one bite. If this is gourmet food, it isn’t for me. Such a small amount, I barely tasted it.

  “Drummer,” Mercer starts, licking his lips and fingers, showing how much he appreciated the delicate offering. “I hear you’ve signed the construction contract to build the new mall. Congratulations. This really puts you in the big league.”

  Hmm. Mouse has done his work well. He’s been laying a fake trail for Mercer to follow.

  Drummer doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, it’s the biggest building contract we’ve taken on. And we’ve already committed to buying the extra machinery that we’ll need.”

  “Payment in advance?”

  Prez nods. “Cash up front, yeah. We haven’t exactly got the best credit rating. Had no need for banks before.”

  A small smile plays at Mercer’s lips, but it’s only fleeting, and had I not been fully focused on him, I might have missed it. Another course is delivered, this one a tiny bowl of green soup. Only a couple of spoonful’s, and I’m starting to wonder whether Mercer got this meal cheap.

  Having loaded a soup spoon that’s already emptied half of the contents, Drummer has just put the revolting coloured liquid into his mouth, and I’m watching his reaction before sampling mine, when Mercer starts speaking.

  “Yes, your credit rating. My board has looked at your loan once again. And I’m afraid we’ve got to raise your interest rate.”

  Drummer’s got his napkin to his mouth in time to catch the soup that’s spluttered out of his mouth. Mercer might think it’s because of his words, but I know it’s because the banker’s approached it so soon. Prez’s eyes narrow, but then his features relax. “We signed a contract. Agreed on an interest rate. Put both our signatures on it. You can’t raise it now.”

  “Oh, but I can, Drummer. Oh look, you’ll like this one.” He waits for the servers to swap soup plates for something that at least looks like meat, the tiniest bird you could ever imagine, surrounded by a couple of leaves. “Thank you, the consommé was delicious,” he compliments them politely. “Yes, Drummer, there’s a clause in the contract that allows us to increase the percentage we’re charging.” He looks up and his nose twitches, though I don’t think it’s the aromatic food he’s smelling, but what he thinks is fear in Drummer’s eyes.

  If this was a normal situation, a businessman having worked out his bottom line based on calculations of a contract he thought he’d bought into, that man would be quickly running through estimates in his head of precisely what level of inflated rate he could afford.

  “I had my lawyers look over it.” At last prez speaks. “It’s watertight as far as they could see.” With knife and fork he starts picking away at the small bird, showing he’s confident he’s got nothing to worry about.

  I do likewise, wishing I could pick the darn thing up and tear what little flesh there is off with my teeth. I quickly give up. Mercer’s got that smile back on his face as the servers come back. I tense imperceptibly as I notice behind them, three men have come in, and position themselves around the room. Here it comes.

  Picking up a briefcase, Mercer reaches inside, pulling out what I expect will be the contract we signed. “This is the contract we made?” He shows Drummer the page at the end, and flicks through the rest where every page is initialled.

  “It seems to be.”

  Mercer takes out a pen and highlights some words, then passes the contract to the prez.

  Drummer should get an Oscar. His eyes open wide, he stands up, the plate and the next course goes flying. Hardly a loss, or much for the servers to clear up. “What the fuck is this?” He leans over the table, getting right in Mercer’s face. A hand lands on his shoulder, which he tries to shrug off, but the gun cocked in his ear has him quickly retaking his seat.

  Mercer grins. “Your new interest rate. One-thousand-and-two-hundred percent, give or take.”

  “I didn’t sign that.”

  “Yes, you did. Must admit I made a slight amendment to the contract the courier brought to your club.”

  “You motherfucker,” Drum spits out.

  Mercer shrugs. “Doesn’t matter what you call me or think of me. The fact is, I’ve got your signature on a legal document, and you’ve agreed to the terms. I repeat, we’ve increased the rate to the highest amount written there. You might not be a businessman, Drummer, a
nd I’m happy for you to consult your lawyer again. But you’ll just be wasting time. Every day, what you owe to my bank increases.”

  “We’ll pay the loan back,” Drummer throws out.

  “You’ve just told me it’s already tied up in plant, machinery you’ve already purchased.”

  Tapping his fingers on the table, glancing up at the man who’s now pointing the gun to the back of his head, Drummer shakes his head. “We’ve not got that kind of money.”

  The banker doesn’t seem bothered. “You could sell the compound.”

  Prez looks up sharply. “Is that what you want? All this to get the Satan’s Devils out of Tucson?”

  Barking a laugh, Mercer shakes his head. Then it’s his turn to lean forward, pushing aside the plate of food he now seems to have no interest in. “I like you right where you are. And, as of now, the Satan’s Devils are working for me.”

  “What the fuck do you mean?” Again, Drummer tries to stand, and once more he’s pushed down.

  Not seeming upset in any way, Mercer continues, “I’ll reduce your interest rate, maybe even to zero. As long as you do whatever I say when I ask it.”

  “And what might be the kind of things you’d ask us to do?” Oh, Drummer deserves an Oscar at least, as he manages to look like a man grasping at straws.

  Another shrug from Mercer. “Oh, things you’d be quite expert in. Putting pressure on people by roughing them up. Hell, I don’t know all your skills. Setting fires, blowing stuff up. The point is, Drummer, you’ll do whatever I want you to do, or I’ll ruin your club.”

  “This little game work for you?”

  “My game? A game you call it?” Mercer sits back. “Well, yes, I suppose it could be called that. And you’ve no idea how many people just gloss over a contract which they’ve already signed. I knew I could get it past ignorant bikers.” He folds his arms over his chest. “You’re in my pocket now, Drummer. Or I’ll destroy you.”

  “We could go to the cops.”

  Now he laughs aloud. “A biker club? And with what? A legally signed contract? You think they’d believe your word over mine?”