Devil on Your Back

by Max Henry

  She nods. “Sounds good. I’ll just get changed first, if you could show me to the spare room.”

  Jane leads her into the house, and as I watch her go I thank the fact I spent the extra money when I didn’t really have it and bought a waterproof backpack all those years ago.

  “C’mon,” Alice says with a sweep of his hand. “Get your sorry ass inside and I’ll warm you up with a whiskey before Jane overloads you on coffee.”

  Comfortable on the sofa in Alice and Jane’s living room, I stretch my neck, and groan as the kinks pop out. Jane places a plate of homemade toffee slice on the coffee table, and takes up a position in the armchair beside Alice. He wriggles his hips to let her slide in beside him.

  Seeing the way they always need to be close to each other is nice. Now knowing Alice spent the better part of his late teenage years alone, what he has now is probably reward for that and then some. I’m not too man to admit it kind of makes me jealous as well, watching them, and then seeing Sonya perched politely on the far end of the sofa.

  “I need to ask a favor,” I say, breaking the silence.

  “You just got here,” Alice teases.

  I roll my eyes, and continue. “The club VP is on his way down here tomorrow, and he has company.” Sonya whips her head to look at me, and I offer her my best placating smile. “King called while you were in the bathroom at the rest stop. They think Sawyer is headed home,” I explain. “He’s sending Ramona and Mack down to get them out of the area. Callum is riding behind, making sure her drive here is safe.”

  “They’re more than welcome to stay here,” Jane offers.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it’s short notice, but I only just found out myself.”

  “Mack is Ramona’s four-year-old son,” Sonya fills them in.

  Jane’s eyes light up, and she turns to smile at Alice. I’m guessing the fact she doesn’t have kids yet isn’t by choice.

  “How long?” Alice asks.

  Jane smacks him on the arm, and he scowls at her.

  “Not that I mind,” he adds forcefully.

  I shrug. “I’m not sure. As long as it takes for us to corner Sawyer, I guess? I really can’t put a number on it.”

  “What’s the story there?” Alice asks, leaning forward to nab a slice of the baking. “You said there was something you didn’t tell me last visit.”

  “I’ll get to that,” I say, glaring at him. “Right now, we need to talk about how we’re going to figure out exactly what Carlos’s bunch know, where Sawyer is, and what we’re going to do to wrap this mess up. Until we’re clear on all the details, everyone stays here.”

  “You want us to hide,” he scoffs.

  Jane shifts beside him, and gives his arm a squeeze. “That would harm their reputation if they just hid from all of this, wouldn’t it?” she asks of me.

  “So would being dead,” I retort.

  “I’m not hiding,” Alice bites back. “What kind of chicken shit would that make us look like?”

  “You don’t have a choice,” I say. “You want to have any fuckin’ chance at living a normal life after this, then you lay low for now.”

  “Fuck off,” he snaps. “What the hell do you think Ty and Bronx will do? You expect them to bury their heads, just because you tell them to?”

  I glare at the stubborn asshole. “I don’t give a flying fuck what they choose to do—they don’t have a woman to protect, and a life outside of what you guys do.”

  “I can’t abandon them,” he argues. “We’ve always been a team, done everything together.”

  “Yeah, and how many of that team are left?” I’m hitting way below the belt, I know, but fuck, whatever it takes to get him to realize that if you fuck up and lose your life, there’s no coming back from that. He’s not playing a child’s game anymore; this is real life with real consequences, and unfortunately, his decisions are starting to catch up with him.

  Alice goes quiet, staring off to the side, his jaw set firm.

  I look to Jane, hoping she can put the pressure on. “You won’t be alone; Sonya will be staying here with you. I’m not having her involved, either.”

  “Um, what?” Sonya pipes up from beside me. “What’s the point in bringing me then? When were you going to talk to me about this?”

  I meet her stare. “I wasn’t.” If I had so much as given this little spitfire a whiff of what I had planned, she would have been talking me out of it with a bulleted slide-show presentation to boot. I don’t care how seasoned she is, who she knows, or what she’s endured in the past. The woman’s mine now, and what is mine is protected, whatever it takes.

  “Fuck me,” she mutters under her breath. “Boss of everything today, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah,” I snap. “I fuckin’ am, and you know why? Because I’m surrounded by a bunch of stubborn fuckers who seem to think that a life is something to be played with. Be thankful you wake up breathing every day. Just suck up your God damn pride, and think of yourselves first.”

  “I am,” Alice replies. “And I’m thinking that I would like to be given the chance to decide if I want to avenge what happened to Tigger or not.”

  “What are you going to do, huh?” I shake my head at him. “You think you three can go in there, guns blazing, and sort this out?”

  “Maybe not as simply as that, but I’m sure we can ‘negotiate’ with Carlos.”

  “Negotiate what? How many days he decides to torture you for?”

  Jane’s eyes grow wide, and Alice scowls from his position beside her. Sonya places a hand on my thigh, probably trying to calm me down, but I’m over being nice. I’m so past caring about how Alice feels anymore that it’s not even remotely funny. Lost years be damned—I’m not sucking up to Alice and giving him what he wants on this. I’m taking charge. With age comes wisdom, and it’s about time this fuckin’ kid realized that.

  “You do understand that’s what he’ll do,” I say. “He’s not just going to pop a bullet in your brain and have the hired help clean your blood off the tiles. He’ll play with you, torture you, and make you pay for what happened.”

  Alice cocks his head to the side, and narrows his gaze. “What do you mean ‘what happened’? He fucked us over, killed Tigger. What the fuck has he got to be mad about?”

  I sigh, and drop my head between my shoulders, elbows braced on my knees. “Why is it you think he killed Tigger?” I ask quietly.

  Alice shifts so he’s leaning forward in the seat. “Tigger owed him money for green, and Carlos came to collect. Or do you know something else, old man?”

  “You have any idea what Tigger did in his spare time?”

  “Hootered up? Played Xbox all day? Fucked if I know.”

  I turn my head, and hold his line of sight. “He did side jobs for Carlos, and a couple of other bosses. He worked on his own.”

  Alice shoots out of the chair, Jane falling into the space he vacates. “Bullshit!”

  “Afraid so,” I tell him. “He was given a contract by Carlos, but for whatever reason he never completed it. Fucked things up for Carlos big time.”

  Alice paces behind the armchair, hands on his hips. “He would have told us this.”

  “He lost Carlos an entire distribution arm,” I finish.

  “I just . . . I never . . .”

  “Jane,” Sonya interjects. “How about we go see if the stuff outside is dry?”

  The girls exchange a look, and Jane nods. “Good thinking.” She rises from the chair, and gives Alice a rub on the back as she passes.

  Alone with him, I relax into the sofa and wait on him to process the new information. His face twists and strains while he restlessly moves from one spot to another. After several minutes of indecision, he flops into the armchair again and sighs. “I guess it was possible, really.”

  “More than possible, Alice. It happened, and now this is the situation we’re left in.”

  “I still don’t get why you’re involved, though. Other than me . . .”


  “Tigger wasn’t taken out by Carlos or his fuckin’ flying monkeys,” I explain.

  He slaps his hands over his face and groans. “Fuck me, it just keeps gettin’ better.”

  “Sawyer found out about the orders on you lot. With the daddy issues that kid has, he thought it might be a great way to impress his old man if he took you lot out first.”

  “Let me get this straight,” he says, revealing his stormy eyes. “From what I’ve heard, Sawyer is Carlos’s oldest son—the same one who joined your outfit to fuck his old man off. You’re telling me Sawyer is the guy I saw kill Tigger?”

  I nod.

  “You mean to tell me, it was one of your fuckin’ men that killed my friend?” he says through strained tones. Alice stands, shoulders set, and fists clenched.

  I rise to my feet and dwarf him in height. “You better sit your fuckin’ ass down, boy.”

  “Or what?” he asks, bumping chests with me.

  My lips twitch at the corner. “Or we find out what would have happened nineteen years ago if I’d put my foot down with you like I should have.”

  Alice holds his ground, jostling against me, trying to force me to step down. I’m not going anywhere.

  “Reel it in, Alice.”

  His pupils explode with shades of grey before he whips his head back and strikes me one right on the lip. My hand snaps to the back of his neck, and I hold his head firm with my forefinger and thumb tucked beneath each side of his jaw.

  Blood seeps between my lips, and I lick the coppery taste away. “You ever fuckin’ pull a stunt like that again, and fuck it all, I’ll deliver you to Carlos myself.”

  “This has to be the most passionate about something I’ve ever seen you,” Alice sneers. The muscles in his neck pop and flex beneath my grip.

  I let him go, flinging him back so he tumbles into the seat. “Sit the fuck down, and do as you’re told for once.”

  He chuckles, low and taunting. “Now you’re the father you should have been back then.”

  Bracing my hands on the arms of the chair, I lean into his space. “Better late than never.”

  JANE AND I stand just inside the room, watching with horror as our men growl at each other like two hungry bears. I make a move to intervene and her hand finds mine, tugging me back into the hallway.

  She leads me down to the spare room I’ll be sharing with Vince, and gently shuts the door.

  “I should get him to back off,” I explain, gesturing toward the living room.

  She shakes her head. “No, trust me, he needs this.”

  I pull back and raise an eyebrow.

  “He’s so convinced that he has to fix everything,” Jane says. “I’ve tried telling him to let it go, that he can get out of this life if he looks hard enough for the right door.”

  “Does he want to, though?” I ask, settling on the side of the bed.

  She nods. “He does. He’s just too stubborn to do anything about it.”

  “Sounds familiar,” I muse.

  “Trust me,” she reiterates, “Malice needs this.” Jane takes up position beside me on the edge of the bed, leaning on the heels of her hands.

  I sigh, and tuck my legs up on the bed. “I want to say this will end well, but I worry, Jane.”

  “I do too.”

  We sit in silence for a while, each staring blankly at the opposite wall. I turn my head and look her over. She’s such a genuinely sweet young thing, and it cuts me up to see her in this kind of a mess.

  “It’s not an easy life to lead, living on the wrong side of the law,” I tell her. “Are you sure it’s for you?”

  She nods, and smiles. “I love him, and I wouldn’t walk away from that because of something that’ll pass.”

  “It’s the harm that the passing storm causes,” I say. “When the adrenalin wears off, you have to ask yourself what exactly it is you’ll be left thinking when there’s only silence and your overworked brain trying to make sense of it all. Will you regret what you’ve done, or accept that you had no other choice?” I twist my body towards her, and go to reach out. She stiffens, so I decide to keep my hands in my lap. “People will get hurt doing this, Jane.”

  “I know,” she says devoid of emotion. “And people will more than likely die.”

  A cool chill runs the length of my back. She’s so . . . indifferent to the idea.

  “Can you live with that?” I ask.

  She turns to look at me, and I pale under her calm demeanor. “Can you?”

  What the hell happened to this woman?

  “It looks to me,” she says, “that you’re the one who’s worried about this the most.”

  I look to my hands, and pick at a rough patch of skin on the side of my index finger. “I lost someone pretty important to me once. I don’t think I’d endure it again.”

  She sighs and gently stops my self-mutilation, taking my hand in hers. “Sonya, I’ve only just met you so I can’t tell you what you’ll be able to handle if things do go badly . . . if. But take it from me, when you find something good just take it as it comes. The alternative isn’t something you want to settle for.”

  I nod, and pull her into a hug. She startles at first, but ends up clinching just as tight. “You’ll be okay,” she offers.

  I pull free and duck my chin, surprised that this woman, twenty years my junior, has the answers. There goes the theory on gaining knowledge with age. Jane is walking, breathing, living proof that experience can be the maker of a person. If only I knew what her experience was . . .

  “Should we go check on them?” she asks. “Maybe get them to quit arguing long enough to go to bed?” She beams an amused smile, so contradictory to her earlier detachment.

  I smirk, and nod. “Sure thing.”

  • • • • •

  AN HOUR or so later, Jane and I have the boys at a ceasefire for the night, and I’m wrapped up in Vince in the spare bed. I run my fingers over the lines of his chest and listen to him breathe. He dozed off within seconds, more than likely exhausted still from the lack of sleep he had at the start of the week.

  I’m content though, happily thinking our position over as I watch him slumber. He twitches, and I hesitate, watching his face carefully as his lips move, and his eyes flick from side to side under his lids. Within a minute he’s back to gently snoring, and I return to tracing the lines of his muscles.

  I phoned Ramona after I spoke with Jane, but got no answer. To be doubly sure, I rang King, and he confirmed she’s probably not answering as she’d left early with Callum, keen to do most of the driving while Mack sleeps. I sent her a text asking her to message me when they stop for a break, just so I know she’s okay.

  The girl’s had enough trouble from that psychotic asshole, Sawyer, to last a lifetime. She deserves nothing more than an easy ride from here on in. But does anyone ever get it easy? I frown, frustrated that there’s still so much shit yet to go down, and angered that we’re here fighting this battle all because of one fuck-up by Alice’s friend. But who should I really be angry at: Tigger for reneging on the job, Carlos for being such a cold-blooded killer and hunting the rest of them, Alice for being involved in such a stupid lifestyle, or Sawyer for getting involved in something that’s none of his business? Perhaps Vince for leaving his boy to go it alone and live this life to begin with?

  Where does the trouble even start? How far back do I need to go? Most importantly, though, where does it end?

  Unable to sleep, I slip out of bed and tug a sweatshirt on over my sleepwear. The house is quiet as I pad down the hallway to the living room, and through to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I stand at the counter and sip the drink, recounting my last conversation with Bruiser. How did I not see the desperation in his words? How could I miss that?

  Urgent barking startles me from my thoughts. With the glass poised mid-way to my mouth, I listen. Maybe the dog’s simply barking at a toad? Found a cat that’s wandered too far through the neighborhood?

  The barking picks up p
ace right as Jane comes down the hallway. Obviously her dog isn’t one to make noise at nothing, given the look of concern on her face.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, crossing the living room to where she’s tugging boots on in the doorway of the mudroom.

  “Rocco’s probably barking at his own shadow.” She laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “I’ll go check anyway.”

  She disappears out the back door and I stand for a moment, watching her moonlit form descend the stairs and head left. The chill from the air blast that came in when she exited wraps itself around me, and I rub at my arms, contemplating going back to bed for another attempt at sleep.

  The barking stops and I sigh, relieved that it must have been nothing after all—an easy fix.

  No sooner than I turn my back to head for bed, the barking restarts, loud and anxious. My heart-rate triples, and my skin prickles. It’s been years since I’ve had a dog, but that kind of urgent bark never leaves your memory.

  “Jane?” Alice calls sleepily from down the hall.

  My feet are in motion, and the night air smacks me squarely when I pull the back door wide. The barking is so much louder the minute I step outside, and my panic only sets in harder as I leap off the porch, bypassing all four steps.

  The wet grass squelches under my feet as I land. I head for the noise, legs pushing hard against the spongy ground to get any speed I can.

  “Let go!” I hear Jane yell.

  A tall form has his hands on her waist, trying to haul her backward as she reaches for Rocco, tied to the fence by a rope. Jane’s kicking as I slip and slide to a stop behind the attacker, my feet digging trenches in the muddy ground.

  “Hey!” I cry out, trying to capture his attention.

  He spins, a hood pulled over his head obscuring part of his face, but I’d know that menacing smile anywhere.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Sawyer?”

  “Hey, Sonya. I could ask the same,” he replies calmly.

  “This is the fucking maniac?” Jane cries, fumbling with the crude knot restricting Rocco.

  “Unfortunately,” I reply.

  My head whips back, and I reel at the impact of his hand. Bastard. Jane cries out, leaving Rocco and going for Sawyer as I shake my head clear. The skin sears where the back of his hand struck me, but I use the pain to fuel my spite. I reach out for his face, ready to thumb his eye and force him off Jane when I hear the cavalry arrive.