Demons

by J. L. Drake

  My breath was caught in my throat and my hands were white, unsure of how he was going to end his ride.

  It was graceful beauty the way he showed respect to the sea, and the sea to him. His hand reached out and skimmed the water as if to say thanks before he jerked and tumbled beneath the surface.

  Wow. I stood motionless as the dark water swallowed him up and he disappeared. Their moment was over.

  I laughed at how wrapped up I was in it all. Growing up without the coast, you never really understood the draw, but now I did.

  My phone rang, and I saw there was a missed call from a Vegas area code.

  Hmm.

  I tapped the play button and heard my doctor’s tired voice telling me I need to come back in, but since she knew I wouldn’t, as I’d avoided all her other calls, she would like me to call the office tomorrow for a phone consultation.

  Well, shit, that can’t be good.

  “I hope you can swim.”

  I turned to find the surfer behind me with his board in hand. He was aged and weathered, but the smile in his eyes left no doubt how young his soul was.

  “Well enough.”

  His eyes crinkled as he came a little closer. “You’d be dealing with a strong current and one hell of an undertow.”

  “Good thing I didn’t fall in, then.”

  “Yeah, Trigger would open Pandora’s box.”

  I carefully eased off the railing and tugged my shirt back down in place.

  “You know Trigger?”

  He motioned for me to follow him back down the pier.

  “Everyone knows Trigger and his club. They’re good people, despite their rep.” He flung his wet hair out of his face. “Known him for about ten years now. He’s my best client.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and he eyed me strangely.

  “Can’t see Trigger on a surfboard.”

  “Ha! Like cats and water, they don’t mix.” He joined in my laughter. “No, I have a tattoo parlor in the back of my surf shop. I’ve probably done eighty-five percent of Trigger’s tats.”

  “Really?” I raised an eyebrow, curious what he knew about Trigger.

  “Yup.” He lifted his huge board into the back of his topless Jeep. “You need a lift back?”

  I shook my head. “Honestly, I’m not ready to go back yet.”

  “You can’t stay here.”

  “Why?” I shrugged. “It’s peaceful.”

  He opened the passenger side door and rested his arm over the top. “Storm is coming in, and this is neutral territory—which really means fair game.”

  “Serpents are gone,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, but the Stripe Backs aren’t. Besides, Trigger would have my head on a stick if he knew I saw you and didn’t take you back.”

  “I appreciate it, but I’m good.”

  He rubbed the water from his face and smirked.

  “He certainly didn’t sugarcoat your stubbornness.” I rolled my eyes. “I could use the company at my shop. You can hang out there until you feel like going back.”

  I hesitated. Just because he said he knew Trigger didn’t mean he did. He must have noticed my mood change, as he pointed to his forearm.

  “Under his right arm, he has the words Forever Damned written in script. I promise you, I’m the least of your worries.”

  He came around to his side and started the Jeep. I looked over my shoulder before I hopped inside and closed the door. Trigger wasn’t one for letting people get close, and he did have that tattoo, so I felt a little more relaxed.

  He held out his freezing hand. “Name’s Mud.”

  “Tess.”

  “I know.” He smiled and backed up and headed down the street.

  Mud’s shop, housed in his garage, was the ultimate man cave. Pin-up models lined the ceiling and walls, a flat screen hung on a back wall with a chair strategically placed in front of it, and I saw a no doubt fully stocked Coca Cola fridge. Fans shot cool air from all angles. Pot hung in the air, and a heavy metal band could be heard throughout the room. It was oddly comforting.

  “You have any clients coming tonight?” I asked as I admired his bonsai tree and the sand swirled around it.

  “Nah, my buddy got caught up with his old lady. I was supposed to fix his train wreck of a tattoo he got in Reno.” He lit a joint about as thick as a hotdog.

  I took in the needles, ink, and blue gloves.

  “Come here.” He nodded and stared at me strangely. He turned my arm over and examined Trigger’s Sharpie work. “You want that done professionally?”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged, but the more I thought about it, I knew I did. “Yeah, I do.”

  “First tat?”

  I nodded.

  “Good way to hide the scar.”

  My other hand slapped over it as I turned to stare at the photos. I felt naked without something to conceal the evidence of my past.

  “Sit here.” He pointed to the chair. “Let me outline it before the marker wears off.”

  “I don’t have much money right now.”

  “Don’t recall asking for any.”

  I didn’t like it, but he seemed determined to outline it, so I sank into the plush chair and gave him my arm.

  “Here,” he handed me his joint, “it will help.”

  “I think I’m okay.”

  “I like that you’re tough, Tess, but this shit will hurt.”

  Fine.

  I sucked back a few long puffs and soon felt as if I were flying out of my body and around the room. I jolted at the needle, but there was no pain. I felt free.

  “Your hotdog of a joint is fantastic. My arm feels independent from me.” I giggled.

  He smirked. “Who drew this?”

  “Trigger.” I moved my arm to the left and felt like I was across the room looking at us.

  “Why?”

  I laughed and then cringed at the sound of the needle. “That’s a good question, Mud. He drew it while we were in bed. I think it’s his way to speak without having to.”

  “That key,” he pointed, “you know what it’s to?”

  I rolled my head to look at him. “That would require him to use more than three words at a time.”

  He laughed and took the joint from me. His hand was incredibly steady, which made me calm.

  “Do you know the DR well?”

  He nodded and tapped the joint to drop the ash at his feet. “Been doing their tattoos for years.”

  “You do anyone else besides Trigger?”

  “Morgan, Brick, and Rail.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded in agreement.

  “I find it interesting that you’ve done Trigger’s.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re the only person I know who can touch him.”

  “Besides you,” he corrected.

  “True.” I shifted my weight to my other hip. “Wait.” I tried to catch up with my thoughts. “Do you know what this key unlocks?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, I’ll let you figure it out.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “Oh, trust me, Tess. There’s a lot of it.”

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the ride of the high. Clearly, Mud wasn’t going to spill the truth. I asked a few questions here and there and loved that he would go off on a long story and let me picture it. He mostly shared stories of him and his waves and how a great board makes all the difference.

  “You want me to stop?”

  My eyes opened, and I saw he had outlined everything. It was dark and gray and fit me so well. Mud expressed what the scar meant to me without even knowing my story. I cleared my emotions from my throat and smiled at him.

  “No, keep going, please.”

  “You want color?”

  “Honestly, you do what you think would look the best.”

  “My favorite kind of client.”

  ***

  Trigger

  I
t didn’t take long for the smell of blood to fill the room. Tammy was pretty much drained before her naked ass was dragged out to the shed. We’d dispose of her later when there weren’t as many eyes on the club. Rich was on his fourth bucket of cleaner before Jace slipped and fell in her juices with a disgusted moan.

  Gus was with Vib and Denton in the back. Fin was still glued to my side.

  My men’s deaths weighed on me, but not Tammy’s. She’d brought hers on herself, but Maze was loyal, and Moe had been around for a while. They were good men and shouldn’t have gone out that way. They were family, and family didn’t come easy.

  “Rail,” I called out, and he hurried over. “Where’s Brick?”

  “It’s okay. Last I saw, he was with Tess.” He rubbed his face. “You think this was—” He glanced down at Fin, who still appeared to be in shock. I stepped away, and he mirrored me like he was a third leg.

  I shook my head, unsure what to do with Fin.

  “You think it was the Stripe Backs?”

  “No, this was an order from above.” I looked around again. “Where the fuck are Brick and Tess?” I looked at Rail. “You know anything about this?”

  “Why would I know any more than you?”

  He looked genuinely shocked at my question. I didn’t think Rail would be stupid enough to cross me.

  “You want to ask me somethin’?”

  I cracked my neck. What the hell was happening to my club?

  “You and Cooper have been hanging out at the Flying Arrow.”

  “Yeah, we have.”

  “Making friends with the Stripe Backs?”

  Rail crossed his arms and held my gaze. “Been by your side for a long-ass time now, worked my way up your ladder, and you stand here accusing me of something?”

  “Just asking.”

  He licked his lips and dropped his arms heavily at his sides. “Not sure who is puttin’ shit in your head, Trigger, or if you’re just trippin’ over Tess, but don’t ever question my loyalty to the club. I say that to your face, knowing the consequences of my words right now.”

  “Careful,” I warned but was pleased he had the balls to speak his mind.

  His brows pinched together, and he let out a frustrated sigh. I needed to find Tess. My guess was this hit may have included her too.

  “Fin, come!” Vib barked from the doorway. She looked like shit. No doubt she’d done a line out back. Such a fucking mess. “I said come here.”

  Fin didn’t move. He just stood there, eyes locked on the floor. When his mother got closer, his hand latched on to mine. I flinched at the sudden contact, but forced myself not to shake him off.

  “When I call, you come!” She reached for him, but I pulled him behind me and raised my free hand to stop her.

  “Go lay down for a bit, Vib.”

  Her face twisted. “Give me my son.”

  “You think he wants to be with you when you’re strung out? The boy’s just seen some pretty bad shit go down. He doesn’t need your shit right now.”

  “My shit?” she yelled when Gus appeared.

  “Vib!” he hissed. “Get the hell out of here.”

  She turned to me and stuck a finger in my face. “He’s not yours to make that decision for.”

  “Maybe he should be.”

  “Whatever!” She grabbed her jacket, kicked a chair, and marched out the door.

  Gus glanced at me then dropped his head, tired of Vib and her crap. I felt for the old man. He helped raise me when I was at my worst, and now he had two little ones and a strung-out junkie wife who’d fuck any pair of legs around.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I reached for it, hoping it was Tess.

  “Yeah?”

  “Just heard. Everyone all right?”

  “Lost Maze and Moe.”

  There was a small pause before he spoke again. “Sorry, man. What happened?” Mike sounded like he was in a helicopter, judging by the constant roar in the background.

  “Stripe Backs came to shut up a snitch. My men got in the crossfire.”

  I reached for the drink Morgan handed me and tried not to trip over Fin. I covered the mic on the phone. “Find Tess.”

  Morgan nodded and rushed out back, and I grabbed my keys.

  “Is Tess okay?”

  “Yeah, she had left just before it happened.”

  “Good. Look, man, I need to meet with you next week. You got some time?”

  I downed the glass and pointed for another when Morgan returned with a shake of the head.

  “Yeah, when and where?”

  “Friday, Courtside Pub. Bring Tess.”

  “I don’t want her involved in anything.”

  “Should have thought of that before you fell in love, buddy.” He laughed while I dismissed his comment. “Be there at nine p.m.”

  “Yeah.” I hung up.

  I looked around at the mess that still littered the floor and wanted to kill someone.

  “Morgan,” I muttered, “find her. Fin,” I turned to my nephew, “go to my office where it’s quiet.” He didn’t say anything as he slowly turned and did what I asked.

  “Yeah, boss.” Morgan whistled at Jace, who was cleaning the glass. “Let’s go.”

  I hurried outside, needing to clear my head before I fucked with any of my own men. Just when I got on my bike, Minnie showed up.

  “Where the fuck are Tess and Brick?” I called out as I pulled my helmet back off.

  “Brick is with me. He’s parking out back. I haven’t seen Tess since the shooting.”

  “Brick told me she’s okay. Said she’s with Mud,” Big Joe called out from his post. “Brick texted her, and she said she was okay.”

  “You think you can hold me here?” I heard Loose bark at Ryder. “I could break your face like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  I tossed my helmet and rushed through the back door and plowed Loose football style into the side of my pickup truck.

  I didn’t have the time for this.

  “Ahh!” he shouted as he held his broken ribs. “What the fuck?”

  I was so tired of his shit.

  I swung and smoked his jaw so hard it tossed him around in a circle.

  “You disrespected me.” I elbowed him in the nose, and he stepped back a few feet, but I closed the gap. Blood dripped everywhere, and his expression changed to fight mode. “You disrespected my men and the club.” I sent a knee to his balls. “You hit on my girl.” I stopped walking when I had him where I wanted.

  “She doesn’t know the real you,” he huffed in an attempt to look tough. “If she did, she’d see what I do. A monster.”

  “Too bad for you.”

  For a split second, he was confused, and when it finally hit him that I wasn’t about to let him live, I punched him in the throat and he flew backward into the pool.

  I bent down, grabbed his hair, and shoved him back under. With a throat punch, your body naturally drew in deep breaths, so I held him down while he slowly killed himself. His struggle satisfied my years of hate for the man. Loose was a weasel, and with the way my club was these days, I needed every last piece of shit gone.

  I waited an extra minute before I let go. His body drifted away, the reaper’s face smiling back at me from his club shirt.

  “Morgan,” I barked into the phone. “Pool.”

  “Copy that.”

  I went back to my bike and turned over my engine and tore off down the street. The air had a nip to it and felt good over my churning head.

  How the hell did she get tangled up with Mud?

  Why am I not told anything?

  Mud was outside when I arrived. He pulled down on the garage door and gave me a wave as I parked.

  “Tess here?” I tried not to sound annoyed.

  “Yeah, man, inside.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled behind his joint as he locked the door with a padlock. “You think I’d touch something of yours?”

  “Mud.” The demons started to tempt me for a
good fight.

  “I called you twice.”

  I pulled out my phone and saw he did. How did I miss that?

  “Why is she here?”

  He waved over his head for me to follow. Once inside, I found her asleep on his long leather couch. My body relaxed, and the noise settled inside. I moved closer and checked her over.

  “She okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did she end up here?”

  “I was out catching the storm, and I noticed a woman watching me from the pier. As I got closer, I saw it was your girl. She seemed off, so I told her I’d bring her back to you, but she wasn’t ready. Couldn’t leave her there, man. It would only be a matter of time before the Stripes found her.”

  “Appreciate that.”

  I bent down and rubbed her shoulder, but she didn’t open her eyes.

  “Tess,” I whispered harshly.

  “Might be a bit hard to wake her.”

  “What’d she take?”

  “She had a few puffs off my Dragon Butter.”

  I couldn’t help but smile; she must have felt pretty damn good.

  Mud handed me the bottle of whiskey I kept under his work bench. “She’ll wake in a few hours. Sounds like you could use a breather. I heard about your men, and I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  I sat at her feet and listened to Mud tell me about his day. His stories were short and to the point. I liked that he skipped the mindless details.

  By three a.m., the shop was cleaned, and we had finished off more than half the bottle.

  “She’s good people.” Mud nodded at Tess.

  “Yeah.”

  “Brave too.”

  I chuckled at the sleeping tiger next to me and thought about how much she pushed me and how much I’d let her get away with. I was still trying to understand that one.

  “She is.”

  Tess stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. When she saw me sitting next to her, she moved to sit upright.

  “Ohh,” she moaned and held her arms out to steady herself. “When did you get here?”

  “Few hours.”

  She licked her lips, no doubt suffering from cotton mouth.

  “Here.” I handed her a beer. She took a little and closed her eyes, trying to wake up. She tugged on the sleeves of her jacket.

  “Where is my phone?” Mud leaned over the table and handed it to her. “Thanks.” She glanced at a missed call and went to the voicemail but hesitated when she caught me watching.