Colt: Demons of Destruction

by Jacqueline M. Sinclair

  Maci wasn’t going to let Jess get her down. She looked and felt like a brand new person. Feisty. Capable. No more mulling around. It was time she went out and claimed what the world owed her.

  *****

  Jess may be a bitch, but the girl had style. By the time they headed back to Vanessa’s house, she had quite a few edgy, interchangeable outfits, a few pair of shoes, and a pair of black, fashionable boots.

  Just a few miles from the house, Jess’ phone rang. Maci prepared herself to have to endure another call from Colt. Apparently, it was Vanessa.

  Driving past the driveway, Jess headed for the clubhouse. “Vanessa’s out here. It’s Reba’s birthday so they’re having an impromptu cookout or something.”

  Maci gave a short nod and turned back toward the window. They’d dropped Julie off at the salon after shopping. It seemed sort of backward to be changing her identity and then show up at the clubhouse for everyone to see her new image. What choice do you have?

  She’d taken a few hundred dollars but had left the rest in her book bag at Vanessa’s. Julie refused to accept anything for the ‘experiment’ on her hair, and had been gracious enough about it that Maci didn’t feel like she’d taken advantage of her. Much.

  With no other choice, Maci followed Jess into the clubhouse. The atmosphere was subdued, all eyes turning to her and Jess when they walked in. For the first time, Maci considered that the low-rise, acid washed jeans, and barely-there tank-top, were a bit over the top. Looking around, she decided she was covered more than some of the other women.

  Maci made a beeline straight for the security of Vanessa’s table. Jess, for all her dedication to Colt, latched on to a tall, skinny member that was at the bar talking to Storm.

  “Don’t you look like Jess’ worst nightmare?” The huge smile on Vanessa’s face was infectious, and a round of compliments followed her greeting.

  Maci found a cold beer in her hand and took a seat, surrounded by women she already considered friends, thanks to Vanessa, no doubt. Kelly, sitting next to her, leaned in. “I’m going to need a name.”

  Thinking it over, Maci turned her head slightly, putting her lips closer to Kelly’s ear, whispering the new identity. Kelly pulled away, her eyebrow slightly cocked so that Maci couldn’t tell if she was surprised or amused. The woman shrugged, not inclined to argue, but Maci was sure she saw the hint of a smile as she turned back to the group.

  She was just about to wish Reba a happy birthday when a commotion at the bar drew the attention of the whole table. One of the Demons had his arms around Jess waist, swinging her around, while the group surrounding them cheered, whooped, and hollered.

  “What is it?” Maci asked, to no one in particular. She was lost.

  Reba gave a small shrug as the woman behind the bar threw her arms up, yelling, “Touchdown.” Whatever they were celebrating appeared to involve Colt. Maci turned cold when the chaos settled down, and the words congratulations, and baby, reached the small table.

  “No fucking way,” Vanessa sighed.

  Maci didn’t know who the words had come from, she didn’t care. She needed to get out of there. Before she could stand and maneuver through the chairs, Jess was headed their way, a tight frown on her face and a soda in her hand.

  “Douche move, Jess.”

  Maci was pretty sure it was Vanessa that’d spoke up, but she was too busy trying to distract herself by concentrating on her beer. “Don’t fucking start with me,” Jess whined. “Storm congratulated me. Kelly. They were trying to give me alcohol. What was I supposed to do?”

  Kelly sat back, shaking her head.

  “Tell Colt before you announced it to the world,” Vanessa snapped.

  Jess sank into her seat and the entire table grew quiet. “How long before your guy can get that ID?” Maci tried to keep her voice low as she asked Kelly, wishing she could just grab it and run right now.

  A look of understanding softened the woman’s face. “Day after tomorrow, at the earliest.”

  With nowhere to go, and no way, to go anywhere, Maci sat back, nursing her beer. Only a couple of women at the table seemed thrilled by Jess’ news and not one of them were wearing a property patch.

  A thin smirk tugged at her lips, and Maci wondered if she wasn’t watching some gritty version of Pretty Woman play out. A whore is a whore. Jess deserved everything she had coming to her. If it wouldn’t break her heart to watch Colt come back to this, she wouldn’t mind watching him rip her apart. He wouldn’t be happy about being the last to know.

  Two days later, they still hadn’t seen any sign of Cain. At least with the truck, the Demons had somewhere semi-comfortable to sit and wait, but Colt was getting edgy, his patience wearing thin.

  The sister had packed the girls up and left last night, according to Tex. There hadn’t been any sign of movement since. Might be time to cut our losses. It was looking more and more like Cain was in the wind, and they were running out of time. The Rebels would make good on their window and find Cain themselves, before he brought more trouble to them than they could handle.

  Colt laid his head on the headrest, keeping his eyes peeled to the house, and resumed what had become his favorite activity. Thinking about Maci.

  Talking to his mom had started a change in his view of her. He couldn’t deny she’d gotten under his skin in a week. He wanted to talk to her, but damn if he was calling Jess’ phone again. It may have been a dick move, calling one chick to talk to another, but that bitch had gone insane, telling him she missed him when he’d asked if Maci was with her.

  He'd get that shit straight as soon as he got back. Right after he told Maci he wanted her, wanted to see where things went with them.

  His imagination was fueled by idle time, and visions of another week or so at the cabin. An uncomfortable situation when his living arrangements consisted of sharing a room with two other men. So, he used his time in the truck to put it all together in his mind.

  Colt just about had her naked when a late-model Chevy, with a pizza delivery sign on top, pulled into the house’s driveway.

  He sat up in the seat, waiting while the driver got out with a box, and knocked on the door. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it swung open, a perfect description of Cain pushing open the outside door to pass some cash to the driver. It was seconds, but Colt knew their guy was in there.

  Snatching the phone from the console, he punched up Hank’s number.

  “You got him?”

  “Just had food delivered. It’s him.”

  “Any sign of the sister or the kids?”

  Instinctively, Colt scanned the area. They were likely out of town for the weekend. “Nothing.”

  There was some scuffing against the phone before Hank said anything else. “It’ll be dark in an hour. Keep your eyes on that house till you hear from me and then go to the alley. Park as close as you can. Me and Tex will go in, get him, and meet you out back.”

  Colt started to argue, and Hank cut him off. “Not risking it. We need this clean. You’ll get your chance.” Then he was gone.

  Tossing the phone in the passenger seat, Colt rolled his eyes back to the structure. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire, hyper-sensitive to the sounds of the city around him, and they ramped up more with every passing second.

  By the time Hank called back, Colt felt like the strength of Superman was coursing through him. The images of his father’s body flashed in his mind. The mutilation to his face, the haunting evidence picture with his missing patch, and the familiar rage was back, magnified.

  Seeing Cain made Maci’s attack come alive in his head. What had been a story became real, tangled up with what he’d learned of her. He’d held her while her body trembled and shook, crying at the cabin, felt her heart beat wildly in her chest against his own. It was easy to imagine those responses amplified with terror.

  The thought of that sonofabitch throwing Maci to the ground, ripping her clothes, had his knuckles white around the steering wh
eel. What would have happened if his father hadn’t shown up?

  Colt turned down the narrow road, taking in his surroundings. There was one shop with a bare light at the back door, a few cars scattered along the way, parked tight up against the buildings, and then the singular structures on each side of the alley started breaking off into individual shops, and then a couple of houses that had survived the development of the area.

  Pulling up to the last one, Colt didn’t have time to put the truck in park before he saw three shadows spill from the door. Seconds later, the back door of the truck was slung open, and a moaning figure tossed in, a flannel shirt tied over his face. Tex jumped in after him.

  Hank leaped into the passenger seat. “Go.”

  He ground out his order as he slammed the door. Colt could only roll forward a few yards before he had to turn out on the main street. “Which way?”

  “Right.” Tex barked his answer from the backseat, just before the sound of skin striking skin echoed in the cab, followed by the sound of what was probably Cain’s head bouncing off the window. “Take another right at the second light and head toward the interstate.”

  Colt adjusted his rearview mirror to see Cain’s limp body slumped over in the seat. “He’s breathing,” Tex muttered.

  Assured he’d have his time with Cain, Colt directed his attention toward traffic, and getting where they needed to be. The last thing they needed was to get pulled over for something stupid with who would be a dead man in the backseat.

  “North or South?”

  “South.”

  Following Tex’s instructions, Colt drove on. Hank sat calmly beside him and never said a word. He stopped the truck forty-five minutes later, on a dead-end path off a dirt road, just past an abandoned farm. Leaving the truck running, Colt jumped out, pulled his cut from its spot over the seat, and slipped it on. This fucker would know who he was dealing with.

  Tex and Hank did the same. Hank reached inside, grabbed Cain by his belt, and pulled him to the ground, snatching the shirt off his head.

  Colt wasn’t surprised to see that Hank and Tex had already worked him over. His lip was busted, his cheek was split and there was a gash over his left eye. Burying his heavy boot in Cain’s ribs, Colt watched him curl up and roll over in the dirt. “On your feet, fucker.”

  Cain was winded from the blow, but he tucked his knees under him and planted his palms on the ground, trying to stand. The three Demons surrounded him, feet apart, fists clenched. Unsteady, Cain stood, stumbling toward Tex, who stepped aside and let him fall flat in the dirt.

  Hank grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him back into the glare of the truck lights. “The man said, stand.” With little effort, Hank had him upright, his hand gripping Cain’s arm behind his back, holding him steady.

  His head wobbled, falling back before jerking forward, his eyes blinking over and over, like he wasn’t sure who he was seeing. His face grew white, his head shaking side to side.

  Colt knew with his hair grown out, he was the spitting image of his father, in his younger years. The man who murdered him saw the resemblance, too, and fear seeped from every pore of the bastard’s body. He stepped back, but all it took was a simple push from Tex to stop him.

  A sadistic smile grew on Colt’s face. “Yeah,” he spat. “You know exactly who I am.”

  “Jess will pick you up at six in the morning and take you to the bus station. You can go anywhere you want to from there.” Maci took the plain manila envelope Kelly was holding out to her. “Everything you’ll need is in there.”

  Kelly hadn’t been overtly friendly, but Maci reached out, pulling the petite woman into a hug. “Thank you.”

  “You just take care of yourself, K?”

  Maci pulled away, smiling. “Deal. Let me buy you a drink?”

  “I think we could all use one.”

  After making a trip to the bar, the two women walked away with enough drinks to hand out to the others at Vanessa’s table. The mood was subdued, with a classic rock station playing in the background. All thoughts seemed to be on Colt, Tex, and Hank, and their mission.

  Maci wasn’t surprised that even the women seemed to absorb the tension. A tension that escalated tenfold when a brunette she hadn’t seen before walked into the clubhouse.

  “Shit,” Vanessa muttered. All chatter stopped and she watched as the entire clubhouse went silent, most of the men rising to their feet.

  “Who is it?” Maci whispered.

  Vanessa turned her head just a fraction, her eyes never leaving the new arrival. “Anna.”

  The woman honed in on their table and slowly made her way across the clubhouse floor. Vanessa stood. The rest of the table followed, and not knowing what else to do, so did Maci, who had attracted the woman’s attention. She stopped a few feet away, her tired, pale features contradicting her confident stance. Her hand fluttered to her parted lips for a breath, then she cradled them against her body. “It was you.”

  Maci stepped forward. She was pretty sure who Anna was, but right then she didn’t know if she was in the lion’s den, or among friends. Either way, there was no avoiding the confrontation. What do you say? How do you say I’m sorry when you have your whole life left, and her husbands had ended?

  Feeling like every eye in the clubhouse was on her, Maci felt ashamed. Ashamed for being there. Ashamed that it had been Pops and not her. They were his family, and she was the reason he was taken away. “I’m so sorry.”

  It was all she could manage before her shoulders began to shake and the tears came. Maci closed her eyes, wishing the ground could just open up and suck her into a peace place. Peace. That’s what she needed. Craved.

  She jumped at the feel of thin arms snaking around her, squeezing so tight Maci couldn’t breathe. She caved to the feeling, the forgiveness, flinging her arms around Pops’ wife, and holding on for dear life.

  “I have never,” she choked out, “been more proud of my husband,” her tiny voice cracked with emotion, sending a new sense of loyalty through Maci, “than when I heard what he’d done for you.”

  Maci squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth, trying to keep the emotion from overwhelming her right there in front of everyone. Images of Pops’ mutilated body flashed in her memory. She thought of Colt’s anguish when he’d spoken of the funeral, his parents, and growing up.

  She was a mess of tears, snot, and sobs when she pulled away, Anna’s icy hands moving to hug her face. Would her life ever amount to being worth it?

  “Don’t cry, baby. I would have beaten his ass if he hadn’t done it.”

  Given the sheer size of the man in the bathroom, Maci doubted it, but didn’t argue. Knowing what Colt had said about his mom, it was easy to imagine her going toe to toe with an older version of her son. A small laugh broke through the misery at the image, bringing an earnest smile to Anna’s pale face. “I could have taken him.”

  Anna wrapped her arm around Maci’s. “Have a drink with me.”

  The two made their way back to the table and the other ladies scattered throughout the clubhouse. Minutes later, the woman behind the bar dropped off two bottles and disappeared back to her post.

  It amazed Maci how intuitive everyone seemed to be. Or maybe it was just good training. Either way, Anna clicked her bottle against hers and turned it up, adding, “I haven’t been here in so long I’m surprised they let me in.”

  Maci knew she was teasing. What little she’d learned about the Demons had her believing that Anna would be one of theirs until she chose not to be.

  The two of them sat and talked. Maci made a point of avoiding the subject of Colt, but Anna was more than happy to talk about him and Pops. Her love of both men was obvious, and Maci felt more confident about her future as she listened to the woman talk, as if her reminiscing of the past gave Maci strength for what lay ahead.

  Little by little, the others migrated back to the table and the tone of the conversation turned toward happier memories. It was several hours later when An
na finished her last beer and stood. “I needed this, ladies.” She looked pointedly at Maci. “I hope to see you again.”

  Maci forced a smile, knowing she’d be on a bus in a few hours, but the thought was nice.

  Over in the corner, another girl Jess had been buddied up to elbowed her in the side, stirring up some tension between the two of them. Jess apparently didn’t like the conversation. The music in the background faded out just long enough for, “Tell her,” to be heard loud and clear.

  Anna froze, a friendly smile plastered to her face. “Tell me what?”

  Jess squirmed, looking everywhere but at Colt’s mom. It seemed silly she was afraid to tell Anna she was going to be a grandmother when everyone else in the clubhouse already knew it. Still, Jess stammered, finally getting out a barely audible, “I’m pregnant.”

  Anna’s face lit up, her smile growing wider, until she noticed that Jess refused to meet her gaze, or even acknowledge her congratulations. The woman’s face fell, her eyes sweeping over the others at the table, as if waiting for an explanation. And then she no longer needed one. “Tell me it’s not Colt’s.”

  Maci was stunned. It was perfectly OK for Jess to be having a baby, but Anna wasn’t impressed that it was Colt’s, and it wasn’t just the shitty announcement she didn’t like. Jess said nothing.

  Anna’s response confirmed it. “Good luck with that.”

  Cain sneered in Colt’s direction, his stance accepting that he wasn’t getting out of there without a fight. If the Demons had their way, he wasn’t leaving there at all. “Yeah, I know who you are.” He spat a mouthful of blood dangerously close to Hank’s boot. “Don’t look much like the man I left in the bathroom.”

  Colt lunged, the full weight of his frame behind the powerful fist that landed on Cain’s jaw. The man stumbled. Hank stuck out his foot and sent him sprawling to the ground.

  Shaking off the blow, Cain clawed the ground, getting his hands under him and pushing himself up to his knees. He swayed, his head falling backward, his chest heaving.