Spike: Satan's Disciples MC

by Zoey Parker

  “Please, Stacy,” Georgia scoffed. “You’re talking like I would want him to stick around. I know what he is.” After the way he abandoned her last night, how could she forget? She definitely wasn’t going to tell Stacy about that part—it would just add fuel to her fire. “I’m hoping he moves on. He and I made a deal, and the sooner it’s over, the better. Besides,” Georgia added, “you’re always after me to let loose, and this is a great opportunity for that!” She wasn’t ready to admit to herself how much she had liked what happened last night—or how upset she was Spike had left.

  Stacy shook her head. “From the second you met this guy, you’ve been acting totally different, Georgia. Ditching me, lying to your brother.”

  “That’s not because of Spike, Stacy. That’s because I’m doing whatever I have to, to keep my family alive,” Georgia said flatly. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. If I want Spike’s help, I have to have sex with him.” She was surprised to feel a rush of heat down below at the thought of Spike being fully inside of her. Georgia cleared her throat, hoping Stacy didn’t notice her sudden blush. “Since I can’t change anything, can we not talk about it? I don’t want to argue with you,” Georgia finished, offering a crooked smile.

  Stacy pouted for a few seconds, then eventually smiled back. “Okay, okay. You’re right. We need to stick together if we want to get out of this in one piece.”

  Georgia fixed the corners of her own smile in place as she remembered what Felix had told her about Ivan. She wasn’t sure any of them were going to make it out of this, let alone in one piece.

  ***

  Despite the fact that it hadn’t rained in days, Alex kept feeling droplets fall on him from above, the cold wetness rolling down his neck and along his spine. No matter where he stood in the dark alley, he got dripped on.

  “Come on, Nicholas, where are you?” Alex grumbled, wiping the back of his neck with his sleeve.

  Nicholas was Ivan’s pet rat at the local precinct. Privately, Alex thought it was a terrible idea to entrust someone who so very obviously looked like a rat to do their dirty work, but no one asked what he thought so he didn’t say anything.

  Maybe that’s the trick, he thought as Nicholas turned into the alleyway, his headlights dimmed for covertness. Hide in plain sight. It’s never the guy you first suspect. He waved to catch Nicholas’s attention, pointing to a large garage door that slowly began to open to allow the driver to enter.

  Another droplet fell as Alex waited for the car to pull in, the large, wet bead hitting his nose and splashing across his face. He scrubbed at his eyes furiously, wondering how tetanus was contracted.

  “C’mon,” he said as Nicholas got out of the car. “Ivan wants to talk to you right away.”

  Alex desperately wanted to ask Nicholas if he had found where Felix was hiding, but he knew that if he acted like he cared, Ivan would see it as a weakness. Ivan got rid of weaknesses.

  “Easy there, Alex,” Nicholas said, grinning. “I only just got here. I’ve been driving around for hours. Let a guy get a drink and a bite to eat first.”

  Alex didn’t say anything. He stared down at Nicholas for a moment, then turned, walking through the plastic flaps that separated the garage from the warehouse. Nicholas followed him into the other room, his little feet scraping against the concrete floor, echoing loudly.

  Huge shelves lined the walls, most filled with car parts, guns, and drugs. The shorter wall along the front had miscellaneous items; illegal plants and animals, and other valuable items the Russian mob had smuggled into the states.

  Half a dozen men milled about the room, taking inventory, removing or replacing merchandise. A set of metal stairs led up to a second floor where security oversaw both the inner workings and outside activity of the warehouse. Three men stood guard, two at the bottom of the stairs and one at the top. They wore heavy black body armor and held automatic rifles.

  In the center was a massive glass and metal coffee table resting on top of a large polar bearskin rug. Ivan was lounging in a white, plush leather armchair, toying with the four-carat diamond ring he wore on his thumb.

  Next to him, on a matching leather couch, sat Yury. He was talking to Ivan about the remaining gangs that were still causing them problems downtown.

  “…I don’t see why you continue to tolerate them,” he said. Noticing Alex and Nicholas, he waved lazily.

  Ivan pointed to another couch for them to sit on as he replied to Yury. “We have a lot of power here, but not even we will be able to escape unscathed if we do as you suggest and kill everyone we see on a motorcycle.”

  Alex took a seat, resting his elbows on his knees. He folded his hands to keep them from shaking.

  “Not everyone,” Yury corrected. “Just enough to decimate them. They only threaten our business as long as they’re able to organize.”

  Ivan shook his hand dismissively. “We can finish this conversation in a minute. Nicholas,” he turned to address the man who still had not yet sat down, “what have you discovered?”

  “Have you got anything to eat around here? I’m fuckin’ famished,” he said, rubbing his stomach.

  Ivan held Nicholas’s eyes for a moment, then nodded to Yury, who pulled out his phone.

  “How about a steak, huh? Well done?” Nicholas asked. “Thanks,” he said, winking.

  Alex tried to pretend he didn’t notice Yury’s murderous stare. If he were Nicholas right now, he’d be wetting his pants. Yury wasn’t the kind of guy you ordered around. Yury was the kind of guy that if you pissed him off, he would lay under your bed for hours, waiting for you to go to sleep, then suffocate you with your childhood stuffed animal.

  Yury ordered the food, and Nicholas finally sat down.

  Ivan stared at him expectantly. “Well? Did you find Felix or not?”

  Alex felt Yury staring at him and he made sure to keep his face carefully blank.

  “It’s only been a day, relax,” Nicholas said, putting his arms behind his head, his badge reflecting the overhead light. “Now, I can report the car as stolen, but they’re gonna want to talk to the owner of the car, which, from what I understood, was undesirable.”

  “How are you unable to find him?” Yury asked coldly. “He’s a fucking junkie. Have you checked any abandoned houses lately?”

  “Hey,” Nicholas shot back, his voice thin and reedy, “it’s not my fault he left you in the dust after his sister damn near roasted all of you alive, and it’s not my fault he was smart enough to ditch his phone. If he’s just a fucking junkie, then you find him.”

  A knife appeared in Yury’s hand so fast, Alex wasn’t even sure if Nicholas saw it. Ivan reached over and put his massive hand on Yury’s shoulder, calming him.

  “Find something for us to use, Nicholas. Quickly,” Ivan ordered. “And get your steak to-go, understand?”

  Nicholas’s face twisted sourly. “I’m doin’ the best I can with—”

  “Go,” Ivan repeated softly, staring Nicholas down. “Now. And don’t come back without new information. Useful information.”

  Nicholas stood up angrily, not looking at Yury as he stormed out of the room, his small fists tightly clenched.

  Ivan waited until Nicholas left, then turned to Yury. “I want that kid and his sister on their knees in front of me before the week is out.”

  “His sister, too?” Alex blurted out, instantly regretting it as Ivan and Yury looked at him.

  He wished his cousin, Victor, had never suggested working for Ivan to him. It had been wonderful at first. He got to work with one of his best friends and make a ton of money doing it. But then they got jumped, and Alex had been sure Ivan was going to kill him. Victor had paid Ivan off, but the appeal was gone.

  Alex was being forced to do things that made him more and more uncomfortable—like the bird he’d had to kill. Ivan ordered him to buy a bird from the pet store and leave it dismembered on Georgia’s front step. Alex had done as he was told, but he threw up after.

  “She killed
Dmitri,” Ivan said evenly. “Do you think that’s something we can just forget?”

  “No. I only meant that our original problem is with Felix. His sister was just defending him,” Alex said slowly, carefully choosing his words.

  “So you think we should punish Felix for his sister’s actions? Interesting,” Yury said, thoughtfully tapping a long finger against his cheekbone.

  That wasn’t what Alex meant at all, but he thought he would live longer if he agreed with Yury, so he nodded.

  “They can both be punished for each other’s actions. Either way, I want both of them here.” Ivan said determinedly.

  “We get it.” Yury sighed, bored. He was always bored. “Now, can we please get back to talking about what we’re going to do with our little problem downtown? These bikers are like ants,” he said imperiously, flicking a speck of invisible dust from his knee. “You may only see one or two, but there are a hundred more waiting beneath the surface.”

  Ivan picked up his glass from the coffee table, swirling the vodka around as he thought on what Yury said.

  Alex held his breath. If Ivan decided to make a hard push against the remaining bikers, what would he be asked to do next? He imagined it would be a lot more than killing and dismembering a bird.

  Suddenly throwing back his drink, Ivan swallowed quickly, slamming his glass on the table. “Fine. They all die. We start with Satan’s Disciples. They’re the strongest right now. Then we work our way from there.”

  Yury sat forward, his black eyes gleaming. “Yes!” he hissed, grinning with anticipation. Soon he would have more than enough to entertain himself with.

  Alex closed his eyes as he realized what Yury’s glee would mean for some poor soul. Could he do it? Could he kill someone? Someone who wasn’t even threatening him? In a few days’ time he was going to find out, and if the answer was no…Alex looked at Yury again, who seemed more enthusiastic than he had in a long time. He felt sick again.

  Quickly excusing himself to the bathroom, Alex hurriedly shut the door behind him, slamming the dingy toilet seat up just in time. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. What am I going to do? he desperately wondered.

  Chapter Six

  Spike had told Cleo that he was going to collect intel on Ivan so Satan’s Disciples could set up a plan to get rid of him, however, that wasn’t exactly true. In reality, he was going to look for some kid named Alex.

  Georgia had mentioned her brother had a friend who worked for Ivan. Apparently that was how Felix and Ivan had ended up crossing paths. Alex was tied to Ivan, so Spike figured technically, he hadn’t actually lied to Cleo.

  Spike sighed. What am I going to do about you, Cleo? Her outburst today had been totally unacceptable. He used to think she was a firecracker when she would pop off like that, always setting him on his ass.

  Cleo would yell at him for being stupid, then he would fuck her brains out; that was their routine, and it was one he liked. Then why didn’t you fuck her this morning? You didn’t even kiss her when you headed out the door. It was like you couldn’t wait to get away, the voice in his head taunted. Spike pushed that part of his mind away.

  He revved the motor, accelerating down the highway as he mindlessly zipped through the lanes. His thoughts circled around back to last night again, and how nice it had been to have a woman do what he wanted her to do for once. Soon, she’ll want to do it too, Spike thought lasciviously as he headed towards Uptown.

  Once he told Georgia all the info he was about to dig up on her brother, she’d forget all about his early departure this morning. His plan was foolproof—as long as he found Alex. The only problem was Spike had no idea what Alex looked like.

  Pulling over into a narrow alley behind a row of shops, Spike killed the engine, silencing the echoing motor. He pulled off his leather vest that claimed the Satan’s Disciples title, leaving him in just a tight black tee. He carefully folded the vest and placed it in one of the side saddlebags on his bike, throwing his do-rag on top.

  Tousling his auburn hair, Spike stuck one hand in his pocket and casually slung his backpack over his shoulder. He walked out of the alley, heading down the street to the warehouse district where he knew the Russians did their business.

  Finding an abandoned warehouse, Spike climbed up the fire escape to stand on the roof. The building was tall, making a good vantage point. He unzipped his bag and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He didn’t know where Ivan’s place was, but Ivan wasn’t a very smart guy. Spike was confident he could figure it out.

  Sure enough, in less than thirty minutes Spike noticed a steady stream of fancy cars heading in and out of one of the smaller buildings, as well as a suspicious number of men in graphic tees and leather pants that were far too snug.

  Twenty minutes after that, a young man exited one of the side doors and began to pace back and forth, looking extremely nervous. Spike had seen that look before—it was one of a man way out of his depth. He had found Alex.

  Spike quickly climbed back down the fire escape, taking the long way around to wind up on the same street as Alex. He didn’t want to walk too fast, or he would attract unwanted attention, but if he took too long, Alex would go back inside. Luck was with him today, and when Spike rounded the corner he spotted Alex, who was now agitatedly sucking down a cigarette.

  Staying in the shadow of the building, Spike pulled down his sunglasses to cover his eyes and began to casually wave at Alex, as if they were old pals, patiently waiting for him to notice. When he didn’t, Spike called to him from across the street, without a care in the world to who might be listening, apparently.

  Alex lit a cigarette, rapidly pacing back and forth as he tried to come up with a plan. Felix was going to die if he didn’t help him, and now his sister, too. But if he went against Ivan, it would most likely result in him only joining the two in a sudden, fiery car accident.

  He jerked his head up, hearing someone shout his name. Alex hastily looked around, spotting a dark-haired man in a black shirt on the street corner. He squinted, but couldn’t make out who the man was; he had a pair of over-sized sunglasses on that covered half of his face.

  The man waved again, and gestured that he would cross the street to come to Alex. Alex felt his body temperature drop five degrees. That would not fly with Ivan. He’d kill this man for trespassing on his property, and beat Alex half to death for letting him.

  Alex waved back to the man hurriedly, motioning for him to stay where he was. The last thing he wanted was another accidental death on his conscience. He looked around to double check no one else was around, then jogged across the street to figure out who this man was.

  The second Alex stepped into the shadow of the building, and outside any watchful eyes’ view, Spike grabbed his shirt and slammed him into the wall.

  “What the fu—” Alex started to exclaim, frantically trying to shove the stranger away.

  Spike shook him firmly to hold still, cutting him off. “Are you Alex Vaskov?” he asked, or perhaps threatened.

  “Yes, m-my name is Alex,” he stammered out. He had a feeling the man would be able to tell if he was lying.

  Miraculously, the giant fists holding him hostage relaxed and let go. Alex knew they would have him again quick as lighting if he tried to run, though.

  “You friends with Felix Lewis?” the man asked suspiciously.

  Is this a trap? Alex wondered. Does this guy work for Ivan? Maybe Ivan’s testing me to see where my loyalties lie. He looked at the man in front of him again. Alex decided to play it straight.

  He took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said resolutely. “Felix is my friend.”

  There was no reaction from the man, which meant he didn’t work for Ivan, Alex gathered. His shoulders drooped, all the bravado rushing out of him. He had gotten himself all worked up over nothing.

  “Felix isn’t around, so if you’re looking for him, I can’t really…” Alex stopped midsentence once again, this time because the man had removed his sunglasses and Alex now fin
ally knew who he was.

  “Holy shit, you’re Spike Turner,” Alex breathed, right before passing out from fear.

  Spike looked at the unconscious boy at his feet. “Goddammit,” he said, sighing. He nudged Alex with his boot. Nothing. He nudged harder. Still nothing.

  Taking a quick look around, Spike hooked his elbows under Alex’s armpits and hurriedly dragged him into the alley behind the warehouse. He propped Alex up against the brick wall, wincing as the kid’s head scraped along the rough stone.

  Spike stood up, panting a little. He was in good shape, especially for a man in his early thirties, but he had to admit, things were beginning to ache.