We’re not given long before there’s a knock at the door, and a cautious head peers around. “Can we come in? I’ve got food.”
“Sophie! Yes, come in.” I sit up, pulling the sheet up over me, wincing as I do so. She’s carrying a tray, and Sandy and Carmen are following her, the former carrying a bottle of water in one hand and a cup of something in the other. A welcome waft of coffee comes over to me.
Another squeeze of my hand. “I think, sweetheart, that’s my cue to go.” Viper stands, appearing more pulled together than he had when he came in. I nod to show he’s leaving me in safe hands. “I’ll see ya later, darlin’.”
Sophie stands aside to give Viper room to get out, then she smiles at me. “I was going to make you a cup of char, but Sandy said you’d prefer coffee.”
I cock my head to one side.
“Tea. Hot tea.” Sandy interprets and clarifies with a shudder.
“What?” Sophie questions her. “It’s a great cure all. Just because you heathens like it iced.”
“Soph, it’s over a hundred degrees out there!” Then as Sandy passes me the steaming cup of coffee they laugh, and even my face twitches with the beginnings of a smile.
I pull myself up in the bed and wince again as my sore body rebels. None of the women miss it. Sandy’s eyes narrow. “What did he do to you, hun?” She points at the blood drying on the t-shirt I’m wearing. For some reason, it’s easier to tell them than it was cataloguing my injuries to Doc and Drum. When I finish, they all look at me with similar expressions of sympathy, and it’s Sophie who rests her hand on my arm.
“He actually kicked you in the fanny?”
I shake my head to correct her. “No, not my ass. My…you know…”
Sandy barks a laugh. “She means yer pussy, Sam. She speaks a different language. But don’t worry, I’ll interpret for ya.”
This time a giggle escapes me. And just like that, I know I’m on my way back.
Chapter 30
Drummer
If it wasn’t for two things, my duty to my club and the desire seek revenge on her behalf, nothing could have dragged me away from Sam. I’d wanted to stay there with my arms around her as if only by physically touching her I could reassure myself she was really here. But the peal of laughter I’d overheard ringing out from my room let me know I’d left her in good company, and I stopped for a moment to listen, the corner of my mouth twitching at the sound that proved Sam hadn’t been destroyed. She’s been knocked down. Hard. But now she’s picking herself up. Fuck, she’s one courageous woman.
My mind a little more at ease, I continue on my way, ready to deal not only with the fucker who thought he was man enough to own her, but also with the shit Devil’s bringing my way. Walking into the clubroom I’m only just in time, as a rumble of bikes arriving warns me all hell’s going to break loose in just a few minutes.
Seeing Crystal and Marsh behind the bar, I quickly summon them over, turning first to Heart’s old lady. “Need you to get the lazy sweet butts out of their beds and do me a favour.” I jerk my head toward the front of the clubhouse. “Pretty soon we’re gonna have a dozen women who need clothin’ and shit, and somewhere to hole up for a while.” As her eyes crease, I see her brain kicking into gear.
Joker and Lady were sitting at one of the tables, and as they hear my words they come over.
“What do you need us to do, Prez?” Now that’s what I like. The boys from Vegas are steadily going up in my estimation. I jerk my chin toward the prospect. “Marsh will show you where we keep the spare cots. Can you take them up to the guest accommodation? Crystal will show you where I mean.” And, as the rooms we keep spare for visiting club officers are located near the sweet butts’ residence, she can kill two birds with one stone while she’s there. “Crys, can you get the girls ready to settle the women in, pull together some decent shit they can use? I’ll get Doc to come up when they’re ready. Some of them may have need of his services.”
“On it, Prez.” Joker nods to Lady and Crystal, who dip their heads in agreement. Marsh is already by the door waiting to get started.
Having this old vacation resort as our compound pays dividends, as we’ve got room to spare. And the work we’ve done recently to fix up more of the burned-out units means we’re able to house what we’ve got coming in. It won’t be luxury, but far better than what the women had been expecting, and a welcome reprieve from the life of servitude they’d been headed toward.
That arranged, I go out front where my brothers are parking up, backing up neatly in line in front of the clubhouse. While his arm’s covered in blood, Slick’s is at least dismounting his own ride. Peg’s first off his bike. I wait for him to come to me, noticing he looks tired and drawn.
“Roadrunner?” And it’s just like him that his first thought is to enquire about our fallen brother.
I wave my hand in a so-so movement. “Lost a lot of blood. Doc’s got him hooked up to an IV. He should be okay.”
Devil parks up the truck and opens the back doors. There are three men inside, injured and groaning. I shout for Blade, Dollar, and Beef to take them to join Kurt. Now the transport carrying the women pulls up alongside, Dart driving.
“You got a doctor here?” Devil asks, his eyes flitting around.
I point to the vehicle he’s just stepped out of. “Not for them, I suppose?”
“No, fuck it, leave them to suffer. They’re not going to croak on us.” He gives an evil grin as he adds, “Yet.”
“I’ve arranged for him to look at the women once the girls have got them settled.” I narrow my eyes. “What’s all this about, Devil? We’re not set up for this. Sure, we can give them shelter, but they need the services the feds' Human Trafficking Task Force can provide.”
“I know, Drummer, I know.” Devil’s shaking his head. “Seems it’s taking them time getting a team together. Hopefully they’ll get their act together quickly and the women won’t need to partake of your hospitality for too long.”
My eyes are now slits. “I shouldn’t be havin’ to fuckin’ house them at all. They’ve been through some shit, man. They need proper care. Haven’t we done enough of the feds’ dirty work for them?”
He shrugs. “I know nothing more than what I’ve told you.”
“And them?” I point to the struggling men being led away up to the storage unit, “Surely they should be in custody.”
Another shrug. “Drum, look at it this way. Surely earning points from the feds must help your crew?”
He may have a point there. Seeing activity all around, men being taken one way, women another, brings me to focus on what needs to be done and put the whys of it to the back of my mind. For now.
Jill, one of the club whores, comes running through the door. “Hey, what the fuck you doin’ here? Thought I told Crystal to tell ya you’re helpin’ her?”
She skids to a halt in front of me, a sullen look on her face. “I’ve been helpin’ Doc with Road.”
Strange. “And? How is he?”
Her face becomes more animated. “He’s doing fine. Doc’s just set up a new IV.” I don’t understand why she’s acting so concerned. Hmm, there couldn’t be anything between them, could there? It wouldn’t be the first time a prospect’s been grabbed by his cock. Interesting.
“Doc thinks he’s gonna make a full recovery,” she beams.
“Well thank fuck for that!” I’m genuinely pleased. My irritation with her slips away. “Look, we’ve got twelve traumatised women.” I break off to point to where they’re standing. “Help Crystal get them settled, will ya? Then you can help Doc up there. And Jill, remember, these women have been through things you couldn’t even dream off. I’m relyin’ on you and the others to help them.”
She pouts. “I’d prefer to stay and help with Road…”
I don’t have to do anything more than glare at her.
She gives an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, okay, Drum. If that’s where you want me.” She walks off in a huff. Road and a sweet b
utt? Well fuck me, I’ll have to warn him about that.
Having done everything I can to ensure the women are taken care off, it's time to get to business. “Church, now!” I shout at the top of my voice, then more quietly to the man at my side, “Devil, I want you there too.”
He gives me that grin, the one his scar makes appear like a sneer and which does nothing to make him look more friendly.
“I’d like to come in, too.” My attention snaps to a stranger standing by the door; I hadn’t noticed him before. When the fuck did he arrive? I must be losing my game not to have noticed. He had to have snuck in during all the commotion.
I jerk my chin and raise my eyebrows, and get a bad fucking feeling even before he opens his mouth, my concern consolidated when he introduces himself. “Agent Haughton. FBI. Human Trafficking Task Force”
Now that gives me fucking pause. Invite a fed into our church? Well, at least he’s playing for the team we need on board. Hopefully he’s here to arrange to take the women. But a fed listening to the brothers? Having any outsider there is bad enough, but the fucking enemy? Pinching the bridge of my nose, I realise I don’t have much option. And best not to antagonise him. As Devil had said, we’re doing a favour for them which could prove advantageous to have in the bank. Giving a slow nod of my head, I cross over to greet him. And when the FBI agent reaches out his hand, I act gentlemanly and shake it, then lead him into the room where we meet.
The brothers walk in. My VP to my left, my sergeant-at-arms to my right. Next to Wraith sits Dollar our treasurer, Blade, our enforcer sits next to Peg. The rest of the brothers take their normal places. Our secretary, Heart, pulls some paper toward him and takes out a pen. Mouse, the last to arrive, plants his laptop on the table. They’re all talking loudly, the group who’d rescued Sam catching up with the rest who’d been with Devil. With a dozen different conversations going on, fuck knows what they might let slip, so I put a stop to that shit.
“Shut the fuck up!” I rap on the table with the gavel. “We all want a fuckin’ update. Marsh?” I call to our prospect who’s hovering by the door, not sure if I need him or not. “Grab a couple of extra chairs, will ya? And then fuckin’ make yourself scarce.”
“Could do with a beer, Prez.”
“Good call, VP. And Marsh, see to that as well.” I suspect we’re all feeling dry.
“Perhaps I can start?” Devil cuts in, his cultured English accent sounding alien in the room.
I wait until the newcomers have seats, and then hold up my hand. “In a minute, Devil, but first, brothers, I’d like you to meet Agent Haughton, FBI. He’s from the Human Trafficking Taskforce.” If I’ve placed emphasis on the word FBI, it’s entirely intentional. Hard looks are thrown at him, and quizzical ones toward me. But I’m satisfied they’ve got the message—to zip up their mouths or be fucking careful what they say.
“Right Devil, the table’s yours.”
Devil glances around. “Okay, this might be going over some things you are already aware of, but as you, Drum, were on another mission, let’s get everyone up to speed.” He pauses and waits for nods of acquiescence from around the room. “Right, as you know, we expected the transport to stop this side of the border so the merchandise could be inspected. And that’s exactly what happened. The man, Louis, Louis Cardell as we’ve since found out, met up with the truck, and four others joined him. A Vincent Carter, a John Bowell, a Mitch Maclaine, and one other. The plan had been to split up the women and take them in small groups.
“Your men didn’t wear cuts,” he nods toward Peg, and I offer a chin jerk to the sergeant-at-arms to thank him for remembering to get the brothers to remove them. “There shouldn’t be anything to link the raid back to you. With the help of your men, just as we planned, we were able to surround them the leaders of the ring who, as we expected, turned up to inspect their merchandise. John Boswell was killed, as were the four men who’d been with the transport, and there was one casualty on your side, as you know.” His face falls as sends a look of apology toward Slick, who’s sporting a bandage on his arm.
“Ain’t nothin’,” Slick assures him.
“One got away.” I’d analysed what he’d been saying and hitched onto the man with no name.
“Yes.”
“But we’ve taken three of them out of action.”
The agent jerks his head. “They’re enjoying your hospitality at the moment, and we’re grateful to you for that. We wanted somewhere out of the way where we could talk to them.”
He might be showing his appreciation, but I’ve still got a bad fuckin’ feeling about this. I glare at him. “Because you’ve got a leak in your own pond.”
“Look, Drummer, as far as the gang know, it was an MC who wanted to cash in on their stock. By using your men, they don’t know the feds are onto them. That means we can watch and wait, keep an eye on who’s getting twitchy on our end.” He starts mumbling something else, but I stop listening.
The words he’s just spoken rearrange themselves in my head and I come up with a whole different meaning. It was an MC. But not just any MC. It was us. And what’s the betting they’ve set us up so we get the blame? And any blowback. My men might not have identified themselves, but that won’t make a difference. I start to suspect we’ve been dropped in it, and now war is approaching our door. Wraith’s cottoned on, Peg too. Mouse is busy looking up the names we’ve been given.
“We weren’t wearing cuts,” Peg speaks softly.
Rage rises inside me. “Won’t make no fuckin’ difference. They’ll know, won’t they Agent Haughton?” To his credit, the agent returns my steely stare, it matches the one I use that normally no one stands up to.
After a second he gives the rest of it up. “It’s been reported in our organisation.”
“And your mole will take it straight to the slaver ring.”
He shrugs. “We’re setting a trap.”
“They’ll be comin’ for us.” Beef thumps his meaty hand on the table.
“And we’ll be ready,” Devil says firmly.
“Fuckin’ Christ, I thought we were done with this.” Viper’s been through too much already. His hand, none too steady, reaches for his beer.
Dart lights a smoke, without having to be asked, and he slides the packet across to Blade. As twin plumes rise, I push down the urge to reach out and take one too. Heart’s looking crushed; he’s got his young daughter as well as his woman to think about. And Rock’s spinning his gun. Young Shooter’s gone white, obviously remembering all too well the last time trouble came so close.
“How many, and who are we dealin’ with?” Joker takes the words out of my mouth.
But first I want to know something else. “Any cartel involvement?” That would be bad.
“No, the cartel gets involved when the goods are south of the border. They’ll be pissed at the gang, but shouldn’t come after you.”
I raise my eyebrow at the agent. “But you can’t be certain of that.”
He shakes his head. At least that’s an honest answer. Perhaps the first he’s given.
“Thing is, Drummer, we need to get info out of the ringleaders we brought back.”
Suddenly my hand thumps down on the table. “Why the fuck did you let one escape?”
Peg growls beside me, “I had a bead on him, too. Devil knocked my aim off.”
I stand, my chair crashing to the ground behind me. Leaning with my hands on the table I spit out, “How dare you paint a fuckin’ target on this club!”
“Bait,” Agent Haughton admits. “We want to catch our mole.”
Bait! Fucking brilliant!
In a tone that suggests he’s used to getting his way, Devil speaks up. “We’ve got four men to interrogate.” I notice he adds no explanation for his part in letting one escape.
“Be my fuckin’ guest.” My eyes flick toward the FBI agent; with him around we’re not getting involved.
Agent Haughton shrugs. “I don’t care how you do it, Drummer. But it’s on y
ou to make those men talk. And, it’s your club at risk if you don’t get the intel.”
“You bastard!”
I’m not the only one on my feet. But the FBI agent must have nerves of steel; he stays put, just raises his eyebrow in question.
I can see he hasn’t left us with any choice. The information will be leaked and the trafficking ring will know the Satan’s Devils took their precious cargo despite the precautions Peg took. They’ll be coming for us, to get them back. Haughton’s right, we need to learn as much as we fucking can. I point my finger at Mouse. “Anythin’?”
“I’m diggin’ deep. Might take me a while.”
Tunnelling my fingers through my hair, I swear under my breath. We’ve got women and a child here, and now it’s up to me to keep them as well as my brothers safe.
I let my breath out with a sigh. “Blade, Peg. Go see what you can get out of the fuckers. Tongue, Viper, you go with them.” Noticing Shooter’s put up his hand, I give him a nod. “Yeah, you too, Spi.” Our newest member and youngest member; I’m warmed he wants to be involved, before we patched him in I had my doubts he’d make the grade. Dart puts his hand up too, quickly followed by Rock. I jerk my chin at them all. Glad to see they’re wasting no time getting to their feet.
“Ok, Joker and Beef, go see how Crystal’s doin’ with the women. Oh, and one last thing. I never fuckin’ want to hear them referred to as merchandise or stock. Ever a-fuckin-gain.” I glare pointedly at the FBI agent.
Dollar and Bullet follow the others out, which leaves me alone with Devil and Haughton. “You gonna be in on this?” After, as expected, they confirm they do, I rub my temples with the heels of my hand, wondering what blowback we can expect from the feds. We’re letting them see our interrogation methods, which sure wouldn’t get approval under the Geneva Convention.
But what else can I do? “I’ll take you up in a couple of minutes.” I want to check in on Sam first. “Wait for me at the bar.” I walk out of the room, wondering how this fuck up of a day can get much worse. And immediately it is obvious it can. As soon as I get outside, even though it’s dark now, in the light from the clubhouse I see Sam, Sandy’s arm around her, walking out.
Drummer's Beat (Satan's Devils #2) (Satan's Devils MC) Page 27
