Colt: Demons of Destruction

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Colt: Demons of Destruction Page 14

by Jacqueline M. Sinclair


  Giving him time to catch his breath, Colt took a moment to glance at Tex and Hank, their hard expressions firmly centered on Cain. Neither seemed inclined to step in or take over, and that suited Colt just fine.

  “That bitch his, too?”

  In the second it took Colt to realize Cain was talking about Maci, Tex’s foot kicked back, and the toe of his boot cracked against the side of Cain’s face, sending his body flying sideways.

  There was no way in hell Maci was involved with his dad. Tex wasn’t about to let Cain forget that Pops had a wife. With his knee in his back, Tex ground his face into the rocks and dirt, before landing a solid punch to the back of his head. “You wish you had what that man did,” Tex gritted, drawing back and hitting him again.

  Shoving off him, Tex stepped away, regrouping. Cain was barely moving, but wisps of dirt flew up with each puff of air he struggled to expel. Hank stepped forward, grabbed him by the hair, and dragged him to his feet. Hank put his hand on his back, and in a friendly tone asked, “You good?”

  Cain bent forward, drawing in long breaths while steadying himself with his hands on his knees. Colt could see he wasn’t. Both eyes were almost completely shut they were swollen so badly. The cut on his cheek had opened to a huge gash that was full of dirt, and he couldn’t quite close his mouth. Colt was sure his jaw was busted.

  Taking a few more breaths, Cain nodded with a grunt, unable to speak. “Good.” Hank punctuated his response with an upper cut that sent Cain flat on his back. He stepped over him, straddling his body. “Did you see the patches, boy? You should have kept your ass in Virginia, and left our people alone.” Hank backhanded him one last time and stepped to the side. “Let’s finish the piece of shit.”

  Twenty minutes later, the three of them were using a bottle of water to clean the blood off their hands. Cain would be unrecognizable when, and if, his body was found. What the Demon’s hadn’t done, the animals would do.

  “I don’t know about you boys, but I’m ready to take my ass home.” Tex and Colt grinned and nodded, agreeing with Hank.

  “I have some unfinished business,” Colt said. More than ever, he wanted to get back to Maci, to explain, to set things right. Hank had been right. This was Cain’s fault, and with that situation in hand, there was nothing stopping the two of them.

  Hank slapped him on the back. “I knew you had some good sense.”

  The three of them climbed back in the truck, Tex at the wheel this time. “Let’s get Tucker and get the fuck out of here.”

  They drove back in silence, each of them lost in their own world. Colt figured sooner or later it would hit him, that he’d just killed a man. He shrugged it off, for now, knowing that Maci, and who knew how many other women, were safe from him.

  “Tucker will have our shit ready to go when we get there.” Hank closed the old flip phone and stuffed it in his cut. It would be destroyed, just like the others, once they got home.

  “We driving straight through?” Tex asked.

  Hank ran a hand over his scruff. As bad as Colt wanted to get home, he hoped not. It was already late, and he didn’t know about Tex and Hank, but he hadn’t slept that day. To be painfully honest, his sleep had been plagued with flashes of what his imagination conjured up, of how things had gone down that fateful night. Getting Maci back in his bed would fix that.

  “We’ll clear Georgia and stop till morning. We’ll send Tucker ahead to get us some rooms across the state line.”

  Content with that, the men picked Tucker up at the boarding house, collected their bikes, and got on the road. Colt could already feel the weariness setting in. The adrenaline was gone and restlessness was coursing through him. He didn’t think he’d get much sleep again, but he knew there was no way in hell he’d make the drive back tonight.

  By the time they fell into the hotel room, all of them were near exhaustion. Tucker, the only one who hadn’t participated, had the good sense not to ask questions, but even he seemed weighed down by what they’d done, his normal chatter, and outgoing personality, tamped down by the situation.

  It was pushing four in the morning by the time they got showered and situated. Lying in the dark, Colt laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the darkness. If seeing Cain had brought Maci’s story to life, hearing him and interacting with him, even in violence, took him over the edge.

  He could hear, in his mind, every breath that fucker panted over Maci, and the fact that Cain was dead didn’t stifle that rage. Oddly enough, he felt like he was coming to terms with his dad’s murder. The man was a goddamn hero in his eyes, and he’d take issue with anyone who said otherwise.

  Colt closed his eyes, stretching his body between the cool sheets, thoughts of Maci flooding his tired mind. He felt like he’d just gone to sleep when Tucker shook the bed. “Get up, sleepy head.”

  Without looking, Colt snatched the pillow from beneath his head and swung it at Tucker. Fucker.

  “Hank said he’ll be ready in thirty minutes,” Tucker pushed.

  Groaning, Colt rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed. He still felt exhausted, drained, but there was also a sense of urgency to get back to Maci. Having had a shower a few hours ago, he dressed and collected the few items he’d taken out of his saddle bags.

  Tucker was back in full form. He didn’t stop talking until the sound of the engines blocked out his rambling, and he climbed into the truck. They stopped once, for gas, and pushed on to the clubhouse.

  Stretching out his long legs, Colt made his way inside. It was early afternoon, but plenty of brothers were already hanging out, waiting on word about the mission. Storm was the first to approach Colt, slapping his hand and pulling him into a brotherly hug. “Good to have you back.”

  Before Colt could answer, a prospect approached and stuck out his hand. “Welcome back, Dad.”

  Storm’s smile faded as confusion wrinkled Colt’s features. “Dad?” Colt questioned.

  The prospect stammered.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Colt groaned.

  “Jess hasn’t told you?” Storm grunted.

  Colt felt himself growing hot. “Told me what?”

  Storm shook his head, giving the prospect a look that warned him to walk away. He did, and Storm put his arm around Colt and led him to the bar. “I can’t believe that bitch hadn’t told you.”

  “Told me what?” Colt pressed, his patience wearing thin. All he wanted to do was find Maci and set shit right with her.

  Shaking his head, Storm leaned his trim body against a barstool. “Jess is pregnant.”

  The newly invented Elizabeth Parker climbed onto the bus, securing her one bag between her feet. It would take four bus transfers, but she’d be in Tucson, and off to a brand new life, in two days. All for the economy fare of $189 and a one-way ticket on Greyhound.

  “How far are you going?” Maci smiled at the blue-haired lady in the seat next to her.

  “Arizona.” Feeling the need to make nice, Maci asked her, “You going on vacation?”

  The old lady smiled wide. “I’m going to visit my husband.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” Maci settled back in her seat, getting comfortable as the bus pulled away from the station. They only had about an hour and a half before she’d switch buses in Fayetteville, but she’d gotten up early and was feeling like a nap.

  “Oh honey, he’s been dead and buried in the New Hope Cemetery seven years now.”

  Maci couldn’t stop the look of surprise before the old woman snickered. “The kids think I’m crazy too,” she said. “My Charles and I went out to California for our honeymoon. In my mind, it’s where he is, where I feel him most.” Her tone turned sad, and Maci found herself envying that kind of love, the kind that transcends time, even the grave.

  “I don’t think you’re crazy at all.” Instead of a nap, Maci found herself spending the trip getting acquainted with Marsha, and her stories of life, and her marriage to Charles. They spent the thirty
-five minutes it took them to switch buses discussing grandchildren and Marsha’s recent diagnosis.

  She was insistent that this would be the last year she made the journey, and Maci was awed that she appeared perfectly at peace with that. She’d declined treatment, much to the dismay of her children, but she didn’t dwell on the cancer ravaging her insides. Instead, she focused on her trip, and the past.

  By the time they pulled out again, Marsha was curious about Maci and her story. “What about you? Why are you travelling all the way out here, alone?”

  Maci shrugged, her reasons not being half as interesting as Marsha’s. Still, she found herself unloading the past few years, leaving out the attack and Pop’s murder, but finishing off with Colt and how Jess was pregnant. “She hadn’t even told him before she announced it to his friends. He wasn’t even in town.”

  “Sounds like she needs a switch taken to her.”

  Nodding, Maci said, “She needs more than a switch.”

  Marsha was quiet, studying Maci. “Does he love her?”

  Maci didn’t think so. They’d spent one glorious week together, and not once had Colt mentioned her name, and he certainly didn’t seem bothered by guilt after they’d had sex.

  “You didn’t ask him?”

  Maci looked away. Marsha’s statement was fact, and given to her so bluntly, she was embarrassed that she hadn’t given Colt the chance to explain. She couldn’t imagine what had been on his mind the day he’d left for the meeting. God, that seemed so long ago now, it hardly seemed to matter that he’d been distracted, too preoccupied to acknowledge her.

  His mind had to have been on the meeting, surviving it, and finding the man responsible for bringing all this on them.

  “I guess in our own way, we’re both running,” Marsha said, firmly. “I don’t want to face my family any more than you want to face him. I just want to enjoy what I have left, and then die in peace.”

  Marsha twisted her small frame in the seat, facing Maci. “Honey, my heart may be stuck in 1950, but my mind isn’t. If that man is what you want, how can you not give him the chance? People have babies all the time and don’t get married.

  “That man could still have room in his life for you, but you’re not going to know that all the way out in Tucson.” She patted Maci’s arm. “Don’t you think he should make that decision?” She gave her a motherly smile, and turned back toward the window.

  Maci tried to digest that while balancing the creative insult Marsha had dished out to her. Had she been running when she’d left her hometown behind? She’d left under the guise of starting over, but had it been a clever mind trick to avoid dealing with the pain surrounding her?

  And no matter how mushy Colt made her insides, he’d never promised her anything. In fact, she’d told him she’d be happy with their time at the cabin, if she had to walk away. She hadn’t expected to come to feel so strongly about him.

  So why hadn’t she given him the chance to decide for himself? Because you’re afraid you’ll lose.

  The passing scenery became a blur as Maci considered her options. At worse, she’d have to deal with Jess being Colt’s baby’s mama. She knew Colt well enough to know that he wouldn’t tolerate any drama out of her, not concerning his child, or otherwise.

  And she’d never felt more empowered than when she’d been with him, as a man, as a Demon, and as a lover. But could she live life as an old lady, with all the secrecy and anguish that came with it? She’d always be on the outside of a huge part of his life.

  She thought of Vanessa, her sheer confidence, and the small, immaculate home she shared with Hank. It seemed so…normal, so balanced.

  Pulling into Columbia, South Carolina, three and a half hours later, Maci grabbed her bag, intent on moving and stretching. She’d become restless, haunted by her choices, and Marsha’s wisdom.

  Truth be told, she’d found strength in weakness, taking the easy road, and avoiding confrontation. She’d avoided telling Colt about her involvement in his father’s murder. Yes, it was under Hank’s orders, but she’d sought refuge there, allowing things to progress with Colt, knowing the secret hanging over them.

  She’d just walked away, leaving him to Jess, without even knowing if she was what he wanted. By her own judgement, she lacked Vanessa’s strength, but standing at the terminal, waving to a very satisfied Marsha, Maci knew she wouldn’t find peace until she confronted them, and faced the truth.

  Colt figured hearing that Jess was pregnant pushed Maci over the edge. Hell, he felt like he was ready to go off the deep-end any second, and he’d set shit straight with Maci, but first things first.

  Hank and Tex hadn’t even made it in the clubhouse when Colt busted out the door, headed back to his bike.

  “What the fuck?” Hank roared, the door barely missing him as it swung wide.

  Grumbling an apology, Colt swung his leg over his bike, and raced out of the parking lot. Fifteen minutes later he was banging on Jess’ front door.

  Her rumpled clothes and messy hair were a good indication to Colt she was hung over, especially this time of day, and he was in no mood to play. “Get your shoes on.”

  Confused, but too terrified to argue, Jess pulled on her boots with shaking hands. “Where we going?”

  “We’re going to solve this shit today.”

  “But where-” Colt had her by the elbow, leading her outside.

  “Get on.” Colt climbed back on his bike, daring Jess to refuse. She stood firm, crossing her arms over her chest. Colt started his bike and gave her a pointed look.

  Throwing her hands up, she climbed on with a huff, blowing her whiskey scented breath in Colt’s face. He gripped the handle bars a little tighter. Is this bitch that stupid?

  Colt drove her straight to the closest urgent care, pulling her close as they approached the door. “You make a scene in here and you’ll regret it.” He left his threat at that, pulled the door open, and plastered a big smile on his face. “We’d like a pregnancy test, please.”

  Beside him, Jess whimpered, confirming what he already knew, but he wasn’t letting her off the hook. This shit was unacceptable. Christ, he’d barely gotten a chance to breathe after Cain, and now dealing with this shit. She had gone and gotten his brothers involved in her lies? No. He was walking out of there with proof.

  Pulling Jess to a seat next to him, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited impatiently the few minutes it took for the nurse to peek through the door, calling Jess’ name.

  Colt stood, ready to go with her, but the nurse held up her hand. “This won’t take but a minute, we just need her.”

  Digging deep, Colt turned up his charm. “She don’t mind, do you, babe?” He put his arm around her, and pulled her shivering body closer to his, a little firmer than was necessary.

  “It’s fine,” she stammered.

  The nurse looked from Colt back to Jess before shrugging. She led them down a short hallway to a small treatment room. “You can wait here,” she told Colt, then turned to Jess. “We need a urine sample for the test.”

  Unperturbed, Colt followed Jess to the bathroom, but stopped short of going inside. He waited, his back against the wall, the ages it took for Jess to come back out with the sample. She left it on the platter where the nurse had indicated, and shuffled back to the room.

  Jess wouldn’t even look at him. She sat on the treatment table, arms folded against her, her chin quivering. “Can we talk about this?”

  “Nope.”

  “Colt, please.”

  “When have we ever had unprotected sex?” He was unmoved by her whine, and Jess recoiled at his words, her shoulders folding over her chest.

  The short silence was broken by the nurse, who came in waving a pink piece of paper. “Better luck next time, kids.” Colt stood, snatched the results from her hand, and walked out.

  Leaving Jess at the doctor’s office brought a small, childish sense of victory to Colt. She wasn’t stranded. She lived close enough she could walk home,
but that bitch would never again sit her ass on his bike.

  Back at the clubhouse, Colt went straight for Hank’s office. He knocked, waited for the obligatory, “Come in,” and turned the knob.

  “Hi, Colt,” Vanessa smiled, standing from Hank’s lap. Colt nodded a greeting. “I’m glad you’re both here. Is it cool if I go visit Maci at your house?”

  Hank sat up, spinning his chair toward Colt. “What’s this shit with Jess, Colt?”

  Colt slapped the paper down on Hank’s desk. “She’s a lying whore.”

  Keeping his eyes on Colt, Hank fingered the paper. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying she lied. She’s not pregnant. I just left the doctor.”

  “We partying in here?” Storm asked, coming through the door. He stopped when he saw the pissed off look everyone is sporting. “What the hell?”

  Hank threw up a finger, telling him to wait, as his eyes scanned the results. His expression turned sour as he tossed the paper back on his desk. “Fucking drama. She’s got the whole goddamn club involved.”

  Colt nodded.

  “She’s outta here,” Hank spat, shaking his head.

  Colt didn’t feel the relief he thought he would. His mind was still on Maci. “I need to get shit straight with her.”

  “There’s a problem with that, boys.”

  They all turned to Vanessa. “What?” Hank asked.

  “She’s gone. Jess took her to the bus station this morning.”

  Colt’s vision clouded with rage. Had he been close enough to a wall, he could have put his fist through it.

  “Get Tucker and Chad.” Colt was vaguely aware of Vanessa leaving the room. By the time she returned a few minutes later, he was able to focus on his brother, and the prospect that’d dropped the bomb about Jess earlier.

  “You two need to go to the bus station and see what you can find out about Maci, where she went. Don’t come back here with nothing.”

  “There’s a problem with that,” Vanessa repeated, her attention directed to Hank. “She’s not Maci Newman, anymore.”

 

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