Targeting Dart (Satan's Devils MC #4)

by Manda Mellett

  Mouse takes Slick’s place in front of Fang. He grabs his hair and twists up his face. “Give me a name, man, and I’ll get Slick to finish you quick. The name of the other Demon who escaped.”

  “Scratch,” Fang gasps out.

  “Not his fuckin’ road name. His real name, you asshole.”

  Fang shakes his head and looks like he’s going to deny he knows it, but Mouse tugs back on his hair and his fist smashes into his face. Blood now streaming from his nose, Fang starts to sob. “Clint something. Martin I think. Something like that. Please, I’ve told you what I know. Please. Don’t let him…” his eyes go wildly to Dart as though sussing he’s in charge. “Please don’t let him hurt me.”

  Mouse stands up. “He’s all yours, Brother.”

  Slick eyes up the Demon. “You raped my wife. You think I’m gonna have mercy on ya?”

  “I didn’t know! No one knew who she was! She was just another bitch…”

  Dart puts in mildly, “Should a' not treated any bitch that way. Finish him, Slick.”

  The knife Slick’s holding flashes again, and is buried right up to the hilt just below his groin before Slick pulls it away. He must have hit an artery from the amount of blood spurting out. Fang lets out a piercing scream, then starts wailing and tries to fold over, but his movement’s restricted by the man at his back.

  Mouse comes to me, puts his hand around my head and presses my face into his chest. “Not something you should have seen, sweetheart. But I assure you, he deserved everything he got.”

  The dead man who just doesn’t know it yet continues to cry, but his cries are getting weaker.

  “Slick. Watch him, will ya?” I hear footsteps and then, “And you. You’re awake. You can stop pretending now.” I hear something I interpret as Dart’s boot hitting the man behind Fang. “Yer what, Buster’s brother?”

  “Yeah. That’s who I am. And you lot killed him.” Gator spits on the ground.

  I turn my head in time to see Dart sink down on his heels, staring intently into his San Diego brother’s face. “He was a rapist. He deserved to be put down.” Then he pauses to wipe the second globule of spit from his face.

  “You bunch of motherfuckers! He did nothin’ wrong!”

  “Nothin’ fuckin’ wrong? He had his hands on our VP’s woman.” Dart stands up. His hair’s come loose from his bun, and automatically he takes out the band and ties it back up. “Tell you what, Gator. We might let you live if you give us some info.”

  Snake growls and Dart rounds on him. “One fuckin’ word and you go the same way as Fang.” Slick puts the bloody knife to the San Diego prez’s neck, then turns back to Gator. “You want to save yourself a world of hurt? Start fuckin’ talkin’.”

  Gator looks wary. “What do you want to know?”

  Dart indicates the blood pooling on the floor. “You were working with Fang. Obviously neither of you had little love for the Tucson chapter. You’ve started a war by takin’ us. That Snake’s here suggests the rot runs deep. What was it? Club decision?”

  As Gator shrugs, Dart kicks him again. I hear the cracking of bones and reckon he’s broken at least one rib. That gets him talking. “Nah, we didn’t take a vote. Just Snake and a few of the trusted brothers.”

  “Suggest you give us the names, Brother.”

  Snake makes another noise. Slick’s arm tightens around his neck. Gator’s eyes look around shiftily. “I’ll give you a couple of names just to show I’m willin’, but I’ve nothin’ to bargain with if I tell you them all.”

  Dart shrugs nonchalantly. “Ain’t no way you’re getting’ out of this, Brother. You can go fast or slow. Slick here, he’s got a likin’ for cuttin’ off dicks.” Slick barks a startled laugh, Dart winks at him, then continues, “You want I should let him castrate you? Want to get an up-close look at your dick before you go? Perhaps I’ll shove it down your throat. Hey, deep throatin’ yerself. Could be a new kink.”

  Throughout Dart’s verbal deliberations, Gater’s going paler and paler. I’m feeling ill myself.

  His Adam’s apple works in his throat, and then he screams out, “Poke and Shark, DJ, Crow…” He pauses as if counting them off in his mind. As Dart lifts his leg again he spits out, “Rattler, Tinder, and Bastard. That’s all!”

  “That’s fuckin’ all?” Dart swings towards Snake. “Your fuckin’ sergeant-at-arms was on board with this?”

  “It’s near on half the fuckin’ club, man.”

  “Yeah, Mouse. I got that.” Dart thinks for a moment. “And how was it gonna go down?”

  Gator shakes his head. “I’m just a foot soldier, Brother. I don’t know the deets. Only know we were gonna take our chance and take the three of yous out. Then pick the club off one by one as they came lookin’ for ya.”

  Chapter 20

  Dart

  So that was their fucking plan. Yeah, we go missing, and what would Drum have done? Snake would have had him all worried and concerned, and the Tucson prez would have rounded up the troops and sent brothers to help the San D crew search. Then when they disappeared, Drummer would have sent more. Fuck, the club would have been decimated without a clue who their real enemy was. He’d have probably sent Wraith and Peg first, who’d have walked straight into a trap.

  “Finish him, Mouse.” He’s got no more to tell me, and I’m sick of looking at his face. As the gun shot sounds behind me, I focus my attention on Snake, knowing he’s living up to his name, a snake in the fucking grass. “Why?” I ask, as I approach him. “For the love of fuckin’ God, why?”

  Snake shrugs, but keeps his mouth shut.

  “Gotta warn, Drum, Brother.”

  Yeah, we sure have. “Bring him.” I turn toward Alex, worried sick she’s had to be here and watch this shit going down. “You okay, doll?”

  Her arms are wrapped over her chest, and she looks drained. I need to get her somewhere safe, and fuckin’ fast. And find out what the hell’s happened to her son. As Slick leads Snake out through the warehouse, I go to help Alex, but she shrugs off my hand. Mouse nods at me, then sweeps her up into his strong arms. He must have noticed, like I had, she’s dead on her feet and clearly hurting. As well as in shock, a woman like her isn’t used to violence and blood.

  Emerging into the brilliant sunlight, I see the truck we were brought in, and Snake’s bike. Crossing over to it I open his panniers. Hell yeah. I find some zip ties. They’ll do. Slick realises my intention and pulls Snake’s arms together. While I’m making sure they’re tight, I thank fuck Fang and Gator had been such amateurs as to use rope on us. These ties are nigh on impossible to get out of.

  Putting my hand into his cut, I pull out a phone then push Snake into the back of the truck. Without being told, Slick sits in the front passenger seat, his body turned toward the back, and the gun still trained on Snake as a threat to make him behave.

  “You want to drive and have me bring Alex on the bike?” Mouse asks.

  The only one riding up front with Alex behind is going to be me. I shake my head, then wave the phone. “Can’t put this off. I’m gonna ring Drum.”

  As Mouse nods in understanding, I place the call.

  “Dart. We got a problem.”

  “What the fuck, Prez? How…?”

  “Jesus Christ! Shit. Really?”

  “What’s your ETA?”

  “One thing you need to know, Prez. Snake…”

  “What the fuck you mean you know already?”

  “Christ!”

  “Mouse, com’ere. You can work this shit. Can you give Prez the co-ordinates of where we are?” As I pass over the phone, Mouse takes charge and is soon handing it back. “Texted him the info.”

  “What’s happenin’, Dart?”

  I’m still shaking my head in disbelief. Keeping a careful eye on the unwilling passenger in the back, Slick slides out of the truck. I walk towards him, and Mouse follows. “Alex, come ‘ere, doll. You’ll want to hear this.”

  “Tyler?” There’s a look half of hope, half of
despair in her eyes.

  “Prez is on his way here. As well as a fuck load of brothers.”

  Slick looks suspicious. “Snake give him a call?”

  “Nope. Not Snake.”

  Mouse and Slick exchange mystified looks, so I put them out of their misery. I put my arm around Alex and hug her to me, this time not allowing her to pull away. “Tyler. Fuckin’ Tyler. Kid somehow sussed there was somethin’ wrong. Hid himself and somehow got hold of a phone. Called his aunt, who somehow got him through to Drummer. They’ve been rollin’ for the past few hours. They should be here soon.”

  “Tyler’s okay?”

  Now comes the hard part. “He was okay when Drummer spoke to him. Drum told him to stay hidden. He’s a smart kid, Alex. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “I want to go to him.”

  “Just hang on for a bit until the others get here. Prez will have some kind of a plan.”

  With her arms supporting her sore chest, she pulls away from me and stomps around to the driver’s side of the truck.

  “Hey!” Mouse has got to her before I can, gently turning her away before she can get inside. “Hang on a minute, babe. Prez will be here shortly, and we’ll go get your boy back.

  The tears rolling down her face feel like a punch in the gut. I take a few steps that close the distance between us. As I lift my hand to her face, she pulls away. Grasping hold of her chin, I pull her back around, forcing her to look at me. “Listen to me. Alex, I can’t tell you how fuckin’ impressed I am with your boy. Somehow, fuck knows how, but he got a message to the prez, who’s on his way here right this very moment. You heard what Gator said—as well as Snake—there’s at least seven other brothers involved in whatever the fuck this is. Mutiny, takeover. Fuck, I don’t even know what to call it. We storm into the club and might get taken out before we can even reach him. Just give us a minute to regroup, yeah? Hear what Drum has to say. He’s the prez of the mother chapter for a reason, and you can bet your fuckin’ life he’s spent every one of those four hundred miles he’s been ridin’ thinkin’ on how to play this.”

  “I’m scared.” Her voice sounds small, lost. The phone call had given her some hope, my delay seeming to take it away again.

  I can do nothing but pull her into my chest gently, so as to not cause her pain, and smooth my hands up and down her back. “I promise you, Alex, gettin’ Tyler back safe is the top fuckin’ priority.”

  The roar of pipes coming up the road echoes like thunder around the deserted buildings. Fuck me, Drum must have been pushing it, he’s made the six-hour drive in just under five. I feel a wave of relief that no one’s looking to me any longer, more than happy to take my place back the middle of the pack, glad to be shrugging off the officer role. I’m still holding Alex as they drive up, only letting her go when Drum kicks down his stand.

  I walk over to him slowly as he dismounts and puts his shades in his cut. “Brother.” At his greeting I smartly step forwards, grasping his hand and pulling him close, exchanging mutual slaps on the back. I doubt I’ve ever been so pleased to see my prez before. As I move away, Slick takes my place, and then Mouse, as I move down the line, greeting my brothers who’ve come to our aid.

  Blade’s taking out his smokes and, without being asked, offers the pack to Slick and myself. Fuck me, that’s welcome. I’d lost mine somewhere along the line. I take a long drag, feeling the nicotine going to my head after all the hours of abstinence. Then I turn and see Alex gesticulating at Drum.

  He’s got his arm around her shoulders, but his eyes are on the man in the truck, and such a cold look comes over him it even makes me shiver.

  “Prospect?” Road steps up. “Keep an eye on him, will ya?”

  “Sure thing, Prez.”

  “Rest of you buggers, let’s get into the shade. Been a hot, dusty trip.” One by one we follow him into the warehouse.

  “Gator’s dead,” I start to explain. “Fang probably is too by now.” I lick my dry lips. “Gator gave us the names. Seven of the bastards are in it with Snake.”

  “Who?”

  I tell Prez.

  Wraith snarls as Peg spits on the ground. “Fuckin ‘disloyal assholes.”

  Blade stubs out his light on the sole of his boot and throws the dead end away. “How we going to play this, Prez?”

  Drum looks at Alex. “Your lad’s done good. Hid himself away under yer bed. Got hold of a phone and called his aunt, who called the strip club, who called me. I got back to him and he told me what he knew.” He points to me. “When yers were taken, he ran back inside. His first thought to get to the brothers to get help. But he heard his dad’s voice, so made himself small. He heard what was said. Snake was tellin’ Thompson that you,” he breaks off and turns to the woman at his side, “Alex, were as good as dead. That’s when he decided to hide. And fuck me, he thought of comin’ to the club for help.” Again he pauses, gives a short laugh and shakes his head. “Six fuckin’ years old and he makes the right call. Gave us a head start even though you’ve sorted yerselves out.”

  “And given us the element of surprise.” Peg’s nodding. “Even if they thought we could have been warned, far as they know we’re hours out yet.”

  Prez is looking directly at me, then looks at Slick and Mouse. “Yer all okay? Not hurt at all?”

  “Not even a scratch,” I confirm, then ruefully rub at the drying blood on my chin. Well, only a small one.

  He dips his chin, then looks back up. “Hate to tell ya, but as you know the club better than us, and the brothers who,” he breaks off, looking as pained as I’ve even seen him, “well, I hope to God there’s still some who’ll be trustworthy and stand by the club. Yers know them best so you’ve got a better chance of goin’ in and gettin’ the kid out.”

  Like Drummer, I hope there’s still some loyalty in the club. I make a suggestion. “Lost doesn’t seem like he’s part of this. What if we can get him to come out? Meet him somewhere, let him know what’s gone down.”

  “You sure he’s clean, Dart?”

  I shrug. “Can’t be certain, but Gator didn’t name him. Can’t believe they’ve all gone bad, Prez. But can’t say for a fact Gator wasn’t holdin’ back.”

  “Won’t know much more until we get Snake to spill, but that could take hours.” As I see Alex flinch by Drummer’s side, he continues, “If your gut feel is that Lost is good, we’ll go with that and get him to meet up.” He toys with his beard for a moment. “Keep us being here to the three of you for now. Don’t want to alert him we’re in town until we know he’s okay.”

  He’s right. But he’ll be putting Slick and Mouse at risk too. “I’ll go in alone.” I decide fast.

  “Not lettin’ ya do that.” Slick’s first to protest.

  Mouse adds his agreement. “We’ve got yer back, Dart.”

  “I’ll go too. I can help find Tyler…”

  “Yer stayin’ right here.” When Prez fixes his steely gaze upon her, Alex is smart enough to shut her mouth. “Yer hurt, darlin’. Dart knows the boy, and Tyler trusts him. If you go you’ll only be holdin’ them up.”

  Visibly reluctant, she bows to the truth. “Dart, please, bring my boy back to me.”

  I make a promise I hope I can keep. “I will, doll. I will.”

  “Right. Give Lost a call. Arrange to meet up. Then you three get goin’ while I have a chat with Snake here. Alex, I’ll get Road to keep you company, you don’t need to be here for this.”

  The shudder she gives shows she knows exactly how the chat’s going to go down, and that she’s seen far too much of how we do business already today. Seeing she’s going to be looked after, I wander off to find some quiet, and place my call to the VP of the Satan’s Devils San Diego chapter, then move back.

  “Slick, Mouse. Ready to roll?” At their twin nods, I turn to Drum. “We’ll have to take the truck.”

  “Yeah, just let us take the trash out of it first.” Peg and Blade step up without being asked.

  Once our unwelcome pas
senger has been removed, I get into the driver’s seat, my brothers take their places, and then we’re off. It doesn’t take long before we’re heading into a parking lot about ten minutes away from the club. Lost’s sitting on his bike, pulling at his beard. He gets off and comes over as soon as he sees who it is getting out of the truck.

  Slick slides the gun he’d taken off Fang out of his cut, and holds it down by his side. Lost’s eyes open wide when he notices. Mouse also has a Glock in his hand.

  Lost doesn’t go for a weapon, a smart move on his part. He approaches with his hands held open. “What’s all this Dart? Don’t know of any problem between us. And where the fuck have you been? Come to get you out of the safe room and you’d all disappeared.”

  I give it to him straight. “Snake’s defected. Along with Poke, Gator, Shark, DJ, Crow, Rattler, Tinder, and Bastard. Turned on the club, man. You any part of that?”

  The expression on his face would be difficult to fake. “What the fuck?”

  “Truth, Brother.” Slick backs me up. “Gator and Fang kidnapped us, Alex, and Tyler. We managed to get free. Snake turned up, they were obviously actin’ under his instructions. Gator dropped the names, with a little persuasion.”

  “Fuckin’ Fang? He that Demon you’ve been chasin’ down?”

  “He was.” Slick gives an evil grin.

  “What the fuck’s Snake doin’ dealin’ with the likes of him?”

  “Long story, Brother. One we don’t know all the ins and outs of yet. But we’ll be questionin’ your prez. We got a problem we need some help with.” I continue to tell him Tyler’s escaped and is hiding somewhere in the clubhouse, and that we need to find him and get him back to his mom.

  Lost strokes his long beard again. “Can’t believe what you’re sayin’.” He’s still stuck on Snake. Then his expression changes from disbelief to anger. “If what you’re tellin’ me is true, I’ve been played like a fuckin’ fool. The sergeant-at-arms and the prez? Fuck! Motherfuckers!” For a moment he seems to find the truck fascinating, but then turns back. “Ain’t got no problem with the mother chapter myself. I’ve got your backs, brothers.” He pauses to think. “Crow, Rattler, and Bastard aren’t in the club. Poke’s hangin’ about, and I think I saw Shark and DJ too. But Grumbler and Smoker are there as well. I’ll give them a call and see if I can’t get Shark and DJ out on a job. You need a bit of space to search for the boy.”