Desolation: Betrayed: Motorcycle Romance (Sons of Desolation Motorcycle Club Mystery Series Book 2)

by C. C. Davenport

  Desolation:

  Betrayed

  by

  C. C. Davenport

  Copyright 2015 C. C. Davenport

  All rights reserved.

  All characters engaging in sexual activities are 18 years of age or older.

  Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

  This book is for mature audiences only.

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  *****

  When you’re young you think you’re invincible. At least that’s what my son thought. He didn’t care for the Harley motorcycles his old man and I rode, preferring to ride crotch rockets as fast as he could ride them. Of course that’s what got him killed. He and his pals liked to race the B&O train that would steam through town at 3:40 pm every day. The thrill of passing the train and then jutting in front of it was too good to pass up. The day it happened I was working the books in the hardware store the Sons of Desolation Motorcycle club owned and still do. I heard the sirens and looked at the clock hanging above the door in the office. It read 3:55.

  I knew in my heart my son was dead. Maybe it’s a mother’s intuition. A light shines bright within your soul the moment your child is born and then it’s extinguished the second he or she is taken from this world. I tried not to let the death of my son define me, but it did for a long time.

  My husband Bruce, the VP of the Sons of Desolation, took the death of his only child even harder than me, if that’s possible. We drifted apart, yet divorce wasn’t in our vocabulary. Once he made me his old lady 20 years ago, there was no breaking the bond. It was the same bond he had with his club, nothing would break it.

  But our marriage was in name only for years after our son Gabe died. What used to be a vibrant love affair filled with sexual and romantic overtures died along with my son. We couldn’t comfort one another. Not sure why, maybe we blamed one another for his death. I didn’t think I did, but perhaps deep down something in me resented my husband. Why couldn’t he have talked him out of racing those damn rice burners. Gabe, Frito, Dry Heave and some others would work on their bikes in the garage by the clubhouse. I always hoped Gabe would become interested in the Harley’s while helping his old man work on them. While Harley’s move fast, they aren’t racing bikes. But he never did.

  After five years of living in hell I knew something had to change. I could no longer live this way. Could Bruce and I ever find that raging love we once had together? Or would another man fill my needs? I didn’t know it at the time, but our club would come under dark times and either it would revive or kill our love for one another.

  We played the social card at the club, but even they knew we lived a bleak life after losing Gabe. It shouldn’t become who we were as people, but we allowed it to be. When you get stuck in that day to day grind it becomes increasingly difficult to remove the cloak you’ve wrapped yourself in. So we became the parents of the boy who was killed because he raced the train and lost.

  The day Natalie Baxter came into our lives was like a breath of fresh air. She wasn’t stick thin like most of Elijah’s girlfriends. She was a curvy exotic beauty with porcelain skin and wavy black hair. I liked her immediately. Of course she had the normal run in with Callie, the resident bad girl who thought she owned Elijah, but that was in Callie’s own warped mind. After that, Natalie had a worse encounter with her father who was willing to kill her in a drunken rage than to let her go. Fortunately Bruce, Elijah and a few other club members were there to save her. Her father was now long gone, courtesy of the SODMC and Natalie was safe with us.

  The day the trouble started was on a Wednesday. Bruce and I had our normal breakfast of coffee and toast at the kitchen table with neither one of us saying much to the other. This was a daily routine and our evenings weren’t much different. Bruce’s phone chirped and he answered, sitting straight up in his chair after a few seconds of listening to the person on the other end of the line. Then he said, “I’ll be right there.”

  He got up from the table and said, “Somebody shot up the hardware store last night. They found Frito inside…he must have bled out from a bullet wound.”

  “Oh God,” I said. “You mean he’s gone.”

  “Yeah,” Bruce said as he put on his cut. “I got to get down there.”

  “Okay,” I answered. “I’ll follow as soon as I can.”

  “Just go to the clubhouse Lila,” he said walking out the door. “Don’t stop at the hardware store.”

  I knew he didn’t want me to see the carnage, but I’d likely see enough of it from the outside. What the hell happened? Who would shoot up the store and kill Frito in the process? It sounded like a rival club, but the SODMC didn’t have a beef with anyone. Yes the club sold stolen cigarettes and alcohol, but the big money was in drugs and guns, something the SOD didn’t deal with. Too much death and destruction in that game. Which is why this made no sense. I got dressed and flew out the door to the clubhouse as fast as I could.

  *****

  As I drove by the hardware store on Broad Street, the flashing lights of police cars and an ambulance punctuated the horrific sight in front of me. Glass from the front window lay in shards on the sidewalk. As I drove slowly past I could see police officers inside the store, likely looking for evidence. I didn’t know if Frito was still in there or inside the ambulance at this point. It didn’t really matter…he was gone either way.

  I pulled into the clubhouse parking lot where members stood around their bikes, smoking cigarettes and discussing what the hell just happened. I walked into the clubhouse where I knew most of the old ladies would be.

  The chatter was loud as soon as I opened the door. Several of the younger girls came running over to me.

  “Lila, do you know anything? Is Frito dead?” Asked Merci, one of the newest girls dating Cig. She was thin with short brown hair and big brown eyes. She wasn’t like some of the girls who would come and go. She was a smart cookie and I hoped Cig didn’t screw it up.

  “Yes hon, he is.” I answered as I walked into the room.

  “Oh no,” several of the old ladies replied in unison who were listening.

  “We all need to stay calm for our men,” I said entering into the center of the bar area of the clubhouse. “They have enough on their minds without us adding hysterics to the mix. They’re out there right now taking in every bit of information the cops will give them, then I’m sure they’ll hold a church meeting. It’s best for us to stay busy. Let’s get some coffee made and start working on breakfast.”

  I knew no one was hungry after hearing about Frito, but I find it’s better to keep women busy than for them to sit and wring their hands. So we ventured into the kitchen and started cracking eggs and chopping green peppers for omelets.

  Not long after we started Natalie, Elijah’s old lady and wife, came into the kitchen. She and Elijah were married a year ago and she was six months pregnant. I liked Nat the moment I met her and knew she was a good match for Elijah. She was a big girl, not like the stick thin girls that populated the clubhouse on the weekends looking for a tattooed biker to call their own. While she might have a few more pounds on her, the curves just wouldn’t quit. I thought she was more beautiful than the rail thin girls who couldn’t understand how Elijah would end up with someone like Nat. What they didn’t understand was these burly beefy bikers liked to g
rab a handful whether it be tits or ass.

  Nat and Elijah were out of town for the weekend and hurried back when one of the club phoned them with the news.

  “Lila, how could this have happened?” Nat asked as she raced to my side. “My heart is breaking.”

  I gave her a hug and walked her out of the kitchen to a table in the bar. She was six months pregnant and she didn’t need this kind of stress.

  “I don’t know what’s going on Nat, but if I had to guess it’s retaliation for something.”

  “But what?” Nat asked, concern written all over her face. “The club doesn’t press into other club’s territory. I don’t think any club around messes with the small stuff we’re into. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know,” I said. “The boys will figure it out. We’re here for support, not to give them anything else to worry about.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Nat said looking at the floor.

  I’m a no nonsense type of person and I say it like it is, but I also need to learn tact. I reached out and took Nat’s hand.

  “I know this is the first time you’ve ever dealt with something like this. Me, I’ve lived through some rough times with the club and I know what they need in these situations. I don’t mean to come down on you hon, but for you and the baby’s health, remain strong okay?”

  “I will,” Nat said, straightening up in her chair. “I don’t want to add more stress to Eli than he already has.”

  “That’s my girl. Now we just need to make sure the other ladies follow suit. Most of the old timers like me know what to do. It’s the younger generation that might need a kick in the ass.”

  “I’ll follow your lead Lila,” Nat said with a sad smile. She liked Frito, we all did. He was an amiable fellow. Not as gruff as some of the bikers in the club and always around to make you laugh. Now the laughter had ended, at least for a while.

  At that moment the club walked into the clubhouse and headed for the meeting room. I looked at Nat and motioned back towards the kitchen. We wouldn’t know anything until after church.

  *****

  After the church meeting the boys filed out into the clubhouse. A few ate, but most drank their coffee. I saw Nat and Elijah talking as well as Cig and Merci. Bruce walked over to the bar and sat down, looking straight ahead. Our marriage had crumbled since Gabe died, but with Frito’s death, something inside of me reawakened. I tried to suppress it. I didn’t want to go to a place that could possibly lead to more despair and sorrow. I pressed the emotion back down as I looked at Bruce, but it only sprung back up again. What had turned into an ember was now being stoked into a fire once more. The love I once felt for this man went pouring through my veins. Why was it resurfacing now amidst all this turmoil? Then I knew why. My love for Bruce was always there, it was simply hidden away. I shut it away after Gabriel died, not wanting to feel the pain of losing someone I loved again. My love for Bruce hadn’t died; I just hid it well, even from myself.

  The fact that there was now a real threat to him brought all my emotions to the forefront. One part of me felt relief that I finally stopped stifling these feelings, but another part of me was terrified that I had. A heart can only be broken so many times before it just gives up. But here I was, surrounded by bikers in a clubhouse where one of their own was murdered. I knew the life I was getting into and the risks that came with it. It was time for me to take my own advice and support my husband.

  I walked over and sat beside Bruce on one of the bar stools. I didn’t speak at first; instead I took a hold of his hand that rested on the bar top. He didn’t look at me, just stared straight ahead, and then he gave my hand a squeeze.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

  Bruce turned to me with sad eyes. “The police aren’t saying much, but from what we can deduce, it was a drive by shooting. We don’t think Frito was a target either. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Elijah said he told him to do some inventory one evening so that’s why he was in there.”

  “But who’s got a beef with the club?” I asked. “Things have been quiet for years. Unless the club is getting back into more dangerous trading.”

  “No, we’re not.” Bruce said a little annoyed. “But its still club related. We’re thinking someone has a personal problem with one of us.”

  “Personal?” I said incredulously. “You mean you think it was one person who has a problem with the club did this?”

  “We think we know who.”

  “Well, spill,” I said a bit impatiently.

  Bruce shifted on his bar stool to look directly at me. “Remember Callie, the bitch who was always following Eli around?”

  “How could I forget,” I answered. She was a young girl who layered on the makeup and hairspray. Eli dated her a few times and she thought it was an engagement. She kept coming around the club even after he told her to get lost. But she wasn’t the type to take no for an answer. I busted up many an encounter she had with Eli’s dates, even with Natalie. She hated Natalie with a passion, calling her names and being as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside. She tried to sabotage Eli and Nat many times, even calling in a bomb threat to the wedding. Now that Nat was having Eli’s baby, the bitch completely lost it. Before the pregnancy she’d leave bouquets of dead flowers at their door with obnoxious notes. Now she left decapitated dolls and stuffed animals. At first Elijah tried to ignore her, hoping she’d eventually get bored. But the dolls and stuffed animals pushed his buttons.

  Nat told me Callie and Elijah met outside the hardware store and had it out. He told her to stay away from Nat, his home and the club if she knew what was good for her. Of course it did little to scare Callie. She wanted to make them as miserable as she was. She couldn’t stand to see other people happy. I almost felt pity for the girl. A heart as black as hers had to originate from some awful pain. But then I thought of my own pain. The suffering of losing my only child. That was a monumental pain, and although my marriage took a hit, it never made me want to destroy other people’s happiness. So any pity I felt for Callie crumbled into a pile of ashes. No, she was a pathetic mess. But this was way out of Callie’s league. Shooting up the hardware store and accidentally killing Frito?

  “How did you guys come up with Callie?” I asked.

  “Dry Heave mentioned it. Said she’d been hanging around another club, the Hellion Brotherhood. Could be she lit a fire under their tale. Said shit about the club and they decided to make a statement. They’ve got the fire power,” Bruce said as he poured a shot of whiskey. Normally he didn’t drink this early in the day, but this wasn’t an ordinary day.

  “Do you know what guns they used?” I asked, wanting a drink myself.

  “Semi-automatics. The store is a mess…some stuff is salvageable but most is shot to hell. There was no way Frito could live through that barrage of bullets,” Bruce said as he downed his shot.

  “But why would a club risk taking on another one for some bullshit story told by a skank? I don’t get it?” And I didn’t. What the fuck had she told them?

  “I don’t know, but the Hellions go off half cocked all the time. We’ve heard them being involved in many shootouts. Whether it’s true or not who knows. But they seem to fit a pattern.”

  “So what’s the next move?” I asked not really wanting to know the answer.

  “Eli’s scheduling a meet with their club.”

  “Bruce, do you think that’s wise? They just shot up the store and killed Frito.”

  “It’s either we have a talk with them and see what they know. Hell, maybe one of their guys went rogue. If so we’ll let them take care of it. But we can’t do anything until we know more and we’ve got to reach out to them.”

  I stood up from the bar stool and gave that bear of a man a hug. At first he froze, but then he relaxed and hugged me back. It had been a long time since we’d allowed ourselves this kind of closeness and it felt odd and familiar at the same time. I just hoped
I wasn’t too late.

  *****

  A lockdown was ordered that day, which meant Nat, Merci and I went for supplies. It had been years since our last lockdown but it all came back to me on what we needed. I always hated lockdowns, never knowing if our club would come out unscathed. Sometimes they would but other times they didn’t. I was so glad when the club turned somewhat legit. It was safer without the stress and worry. Of course my child died by his own reckless hand. So I guess it doesn’t matter. If your time is up, it’s up. But I also knew that a person can push fate, whether it’s running dope or guns in a motorcycle club or racing trains on a crotch rocket.

  I tried not to let the girls know how nervous I was. They were stressed enough for all three of us, and I was trying to keep Nat calm. Neither one had been through a lockdown and only a few of the old ladies still remained who remembered them from the old days. We made our way through the big box store with three carts, grabbing food, toilet paper, and drinks. Some women had babies or small children so we needed diapers and coloring books for the kiddoes. Kids can feel the stress from adults. I remember Gabe sitting on my lap during a lockdown and playing with my hair. He could sense the tenseness in the room, most of the children could, so they’d cling to their mothers instead of playing. I hated to think we were going back to that time. Hopefully it was only a minor bump in the road and everything would sort out soon. Then I thought of Frito. How could I call him a minor bump? Damn it! I didn’t want anyone else hurt in our club, but the bastard who did this, I had no mercy for.