The Blood That Drives Us: The Devils Dust MC Legacy

by M. N. Forgy

  “I know, Mom.” I decide against the heart to heart and give her a peck on the cheek. She grabs my arm, stopping me.

  “She’s not about the club life, son, she will be for you but don’t forget you have to meet her halfway,” she advises.

  “So what, I should get a job or something?” I scoff, not sure what she’s saying. I can’t see me bagging groceries at the local Walmart and I don’t think Addie would expect me to.

  “No, but take her for a date, meet her friends, things normal girls would want.”

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I sigh. I’ve never had to do that shit before.

  “Yeah, thanks, Mom.” She pats my shoulder caringly and walks over to where they are playing cards.

  Suddenly Rad is by my side, his arms crossed. He smells of ocean water. Glancing at him, his face is red again. His chest even more sunburnt under his leather cut. It makes the octopus skull tattoo on his chest look more angry.

  “Out surfing today?”

  He nods, watching someone particularly closely. He seems fucking dazed. Looking at his line of sight he is looking right at my sister.

  I slam my hand against his chest.

  Nearly knocking the wind from him, he looks at me with wide eyes.

  I point at him. “No!”

  He chuckles.

  “I’m just looking!” He throws his hands up.

  “Look somewhere else!”

  “Damn, been in a relationship five minutes and you’re already a bitch!”

  I raise a brow at him. He knows nothing about me and Addie.

  “Well, it’s nothing you’ll know about with my sister.”

  Heading toward my room, Baby walks out of the kitchen, spots me and turns right around.

  Good call.

  Maybe she and Rad will meet and save everyone the trouble.

  12

  Addie

  Asleep in Zane’s bed, I feel the bed dip and Zane slide in with me. He was sleeping next to me when I fell asleep hours ago, where did he go?

  Lifting up, I pry my eyes open to look at him. The dark enveloping most of my vision I can only see the outline of his body.

  “Where were you?” I ask half asleep. “Is everything okay?” The thought of maybe Thad is alive and coming back on the club makes my heart beat faster.

  “Brothers needed me, had to step out,” he informs. I didn’t even hear him leave. Where did he go?

  “But it’s the middle of the night.”

  Throwing the blankets over us, his fingers slowly slide up and down my spine.

  “Don’t question club business, Sunny.” The bite in his tone has me wake up like someone threw cold water on my face. He must notice my apprehension as he stops caressing me. “It’s just that, I can’t tell you a lot of things, not because I don’t trust you but for your own safety.” His tone softer, I lay my head down on my arm and nod. I understand that. I’ve heard stories of girlfriends getting hurt for information on the club.

  “Thought we had a lead on the whereabouts of the Lost Wolves’ president, came up empty,” he finally confides. That’s it? Hearing how small and insignificant his run was it makes shit running through my head much worse than he was actually doing.

  Snuggling up next to him, he cocoons me in the most secure way. I want to live in his arms, feel his heartbeat, and never let go. He may be the Devil, but—

  “Do you… do you want to go on a date?”

  I tilt my head upward at him.” A date?”

  “With me?” he continues, and the nervousness in his voice has me swoon. If I were standing, I swear I’d sway on my feet.

  “Where?” The giddiness in my voice is too strong to mask.

  He shrugs.

  “I’ll think of something,” he whispers before pulling me close again.

  A date. Holy shit. Zane Kingsmen is taking me on a date.

  “I mean, I’ve never done this before so don’t get excited as I’ll just disappoint you.”

  I cover his mouth and shake my head.

  “Impossible,” whispering, I kiss his lips, and like that we’re making out again.

  * * *

  Zane

  * * *

  Sitting in a chair out in the courtyard with the boys I wait for them to give me a hard time. I just told them I am taking Addie out.

  “You’re going on a date? You?” Saint chuckles behind his beer. He’s shirtless as usual, his blue boxers pulled from his loose jeans as he slouches in the chair in front of me. Rad chuckles, sitting on the ground next to us. At least he’s wearing a shirt.

  Picking at some loose gravel, I squint an eye and look up at him.

  “Yeah, you ever take a girl out on one?” I ask. He takes a sip and shakes his head.

  “Hell nah, you gotta buy dinner, find something personal to do afterward. I just never found a chick that I was down with like that.” He shrugs.

  Sitting back in the metal chair, the sun shines down on me, making me hot.

  Addie is more than a dinner and a movie girl, like Saint said. It’s got to be personal.

  * * *

  “You can take her to the beach, teach her how to surfs,” Rad suggests. He pulls his white shirt off and tosses it behind him. He’s tan as fuck as it is.

  “I can’t surf.” I shake my head and take a sip of my beer that is quickly warming up.

  “Yeah, I know.” He chuckles. I flick the tab of my beer at him. I went with him once when we were kids. First wave that came I was knocked off, and impaled with coral.

  Fucker tried to piss on me.

  “My dad took my mom to the beach for their first date,” I tell them.

  “Your dad has way more game than you,” Saint laughs, insulting me.

  “Nah, don’t do the beach scene,” Saint advises. “Might as well take her to the movies and dinner like every other flavor.”

  He’s right.

  “Why is this so fucking hard.” I groan, sliding my hands up and down my face.

  “Because you don’t want her daddy to shoot you next time.” Saint laughs, and Rad nearly falls over chuckling.

  I toss my half-empty beer at them.

  “Fuck you guys.”

  “Prospects!”

  The boys and I stand, looking in the direction of the garage. Bobby stands there with a wrench in one hand and dirty rag in the other.

  “Yeah?” Saint answers.

  “Go get some groceries.”

  “The fuck?” I frown. Surely I heard him wrong.

  “You wanted the bitch work, get it done.” He smiles before going back in to work on his bike. I can’t say no, I want his good graces with Addie.

  “Sure,” I mumble, not happy about this.

  “You’re a dipshit for willingly wanting to do this.” Rad sighs.

  “I am not buying tampons for these bitches,” Saint adds.

  Getting in Bobby’s truck, Saint drives, and Rad sprawls out in the back seat.

  “Do you think he will ever stop busting your balls?” Rad asks, referring to Bobby.

  “Yeah, after he chases him away,” Saint laughs, leaning back in his seat.

  “It’s going to take more than a daddy to chase me away from Addie,” I state, hanging my arm out the window.

  “Damn, that must be some good—”

  I turn in my seat and start throwing punches at Rad before he can finish the sentence.

  “Hey! Hey! That hurts!” Rad whines like a bitch.

  “Keep it up, and I’ll throw you out that fucking door!” I say seriously.

  * * *

  Pulling up to the market, Saint parks the truck in a spot I’m pretty sure is for returned carts. It’s close to the door, fuck it. I get out and stretch.

  “Grab a cart.” I point to Rad.

  “Why do I gotta get the cart?”

  “Because you’re retarded.” Saint slaps him in the back of the head. Rad rolls his eyes and grabs a cart two parking spaces over.

  * * *

  Stepping inside, a
short young lady who is the greeter smiles at us before turning around quickly. Bikers coming in for groceries probably wasn’t what she was expecting. Three bikers, tattoos, and ‘Go fuck yourself expressions.’

  I’ve never been in here before. I always eat at the club and order shit online. I hate being around so many strangers, it makes me anxious. People bumping into you, stepping out in front of you. Puts me on edge. The bright lights above irritate me, and the smell of cleaner mixes with a bakery scent. It confuses my senses. It makes me wonder if coming here is something Addie would want to do on the weekends.

  “Food.” Saint points to a big blue sign hanging from the ceiling pointing to the left side of the store. Racks of clothes and clearance shit just underneath it.

  I lead the way, ready to get this over with. There are women shopping in pajamas that look like they used to be white but are more gray now, and a man in nothing but coveralls looks over the cookies, and one fucker looks like the Devil just spit him up with all the black clothes and makeup he’s wearing.

  “What the fuck do we even get?” Saint mutters, picking up a box of cereal and putting it back down.

  “Bread.” I grab a loaf and toss it in. Sandwiches are always a hit around the club. They’re quick and easy.

  “Chips!” Rad grabs three big bags of different chips.

  “Beer!” Saint takes off toward the beer. Seems legit to me.

  “Where the fuck is the chocolate ice cream?” I holler to one of them, causing a woman to look over her shoulder at me before her eyes widen and she picks a different aisle to go down.

  Do we really look that fucking intimidating?

  “Hey Zane, want some wine for your date?” Saint holds up a girly pink bottle over near the alcohol aisle.

  I flip him off and continue to slide shit from the shelves into the cart. I don’t even know what I’m getting, they didn’t give us a list. I got cheese in a can, crackers, soup, ice cream, and Saint just threw in some beer. Sounds like we got the important shit.

  “What about snacks or something?” Rad rubs his chin.

  “I’m about ready to get the fuck out of here,” I groan, done with prospect duty for the day.

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Saint throws in some beef jerky.

  Turning the cart, I head to the checkout. People dart down aisles they have no intention of being down, and one woman just left her cart and went the opposite way when she saw us.

  The respect is nice, I ain’t going to lie, but they act as if we are Jack the Ripper.

  Standing in line waiting to throw our shit up on the belt, Saint turns and looks at me.

  “So Zane, you freaking out about the president from Lost Wolves coming for your ass?” Saint asks seriously. He’s talking about Bender, a name and face that continues to drive my cold soulless blood to immoral boundaries.

  “No,” I lie. He’s looking for me and could be anybody. He could be in this damn store for all I know. I just want to find him before he finds me.

  “Man, I’d be pissing myself.” Rad’s dopy tone coming into play. I swear he’s smoked himself stupid.

  “He comes for me, I’ll take care of it like I did when I was a kid. Only my aim is a lot fucking better now,” I clip. It’s the truth, and that’s what I tell myself when I think about him showing up.

  Saint throws all the shit on the belt to check out, and the old lady with gray hair and a body of nothing but bones begins to swipe the items to ring them up.

  “Did Bobby give you money?” Saint asks, holding his hand out.

  I shrug.

  “No, Rad is paying,” I nominate.

  “What the fuck, man?” Rad’s eyes widen. “You’re the one who pissed him off!”

  “You got it, you’re fine.” Saint chuckles, grabbing bags and putting them in the cart.

  “Man, I ain’t got that much, I had to pay club dues!” He gets all whiny, trying to put shit back.

  Pulling my wallet open, I toss two twenties down. Being a contract killer pays well, or should I say paid well. I’m done. Only killing I’ll be doing is in the club.

  “There’s my pitch, y’all can cover the rest.” I lift my chin at them, and they follow suit tossing a twenty down.

  The lady takes the money, and hands Saint a receipt.

  “You girls have a nice day!” she smiles, and Saint’s brows narrow before looking at me.

  “Just fucking go.” I shove the cart into the back of his calves, and he gets to walking.

  “Bitch needs some glasses is all I’m saying,” Saint states, not able to let it go.

  We throw the shit in the back of the truck, keeping the beer out of course, and head back to the club.

  Job done.

  13

  Addie

  Delilah sits on the bed with her legs crossed with her hands behind her. Her hair is down and messy falling over her shoulders and onto her chest. The gray band T-shirt she’s wearing coming up just above her belly button. She tugs on the hem of her dark washed jeans, and sighs.

  * * *

  Surfing through the clothes I have I come across a top that reminds me of Mr. Thad and my heart stops. It’s green and white and looks like something I would wear onto a golf course. I bury it quickly, not wanting to look at it a second longer. Thoughts of police finding a body, or family filing a missing person report scare the shit out of me.

  * * *

  “So he’s taking you on a date?”

  Holding up a sexy little red dress with one hand, I toss my black and white casual dress on the bed next to Delilah.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know where.” I bite my cheek in thought trying to think of what dress to wear.

  Delilah holds up the black and white dress. “Wear this with some tennis shoes. Some white ones.”

  “Ooh, that would be cute.” I snatch the dress up and try and imagine what it would look like. It would be more comfortable on my side where Bobby accidentally shot me. It’s a little looser than the red dress for sure.

  “You know, you and Zane changed everything for us.”

  Sitting on the bed next to her, I loll my head back.

  “How?”

  “Because, if you and Zane can be together, then any of us brats can be.” She shrugs.

  My brows furrow. “Why is that a problem, do you like someone?”

  She gives me a bored look. “I’m just saying, now that it’s an option. It’s just. I don’t know. Weird.” She shakes her head and stands.

  “Well, nobody is pushing you to go hook up with anyone D. Zane and I didn’t mean to change anything. It was just something that has been coming along for years,” I try and explain.

  “I know, I just hope he’s a little more focused on finding the Lost Wolf than running off into the sunset with you.” Her sharp tone offends me. She makes it sound as if I’m some one-night stand or a floozy. I care about finding Bender just as much as she does.

  “I want him to find him before the bastard finds Zane too, Delilah.”

  Just before she leaves, she taps her chipped nails on the door frame, her face laced with a condescending sneer.

  “I hope so.”

  Grabbing my clothes off the bed, I hustle into the bathroom. The things Delilah said to me on the back of my mind the whole time.

  Turning the shower on, I bite my cheek in thought.

  “Of course I want Zane to be safe,” I tell myself. I start to become angry thinking about it. Why would D think I wouldn’t want the best for Zane? Who knows, she’s so strange.

  The water cascades down my body, and I arch my torso to make sure no water gets into my wound on my side. It stings when I have to change the bandage, but other than that it’s not too bad. Bobby still feels bad about it. Always pulling a chair out for me, and apologizing. He didn’t mean to, I know that. I close my eyes and try to focus on my date with Zane tonight. Where in the world could he be taking me?

  Wiping the water from my eyes, I find Zane’s soap. Apples.

  Poppi
ng the lid, I inhale the scent. The familiar tones of an orchard drive my senses wild as I wash them through my hair. Only when I think of this particular orchard in my hair, I see fog settling around the base of the trees, and leaves turning dark before floating to the mossy ground. It’s as if someone took a picture of a haunted farm in the fall. That’s how I see Zane and apples.

  Laughter through the other side of the wall breaks me from my thoughts and I turn the water off.

  Drying off, I get dressed and brush my hair. I think I’ll let it air dry, give it some curl and wave tonight. Butterflies flap in my stomach and I growl in frustration. Why am I so nervous?

  An hour later I’m ready and nervous.

  A light knock at the door as my heart falling to the pit of my stomach.

  “You ready?” Zane asks.

  Stepping out of the bathroom, I hold my hands out on each side of my body and smile.

  “Fuck,” he whispers, his thumb flicking his bottom lip as he eats me up.

  “I didn’t know what to wear,” I confess. I was so nervous and wasn’t sure where we were going.

  “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He closes the gap between us, his hand on the nape of my neck.

  “I want you to wear my cut tonight.”

  My eyes widen at his request.

  “Your cut?” As in not my own, but his! When a brother wants a woman to be his and for everyone to know they give a woman their own cut conveying they’re owned. This isn’t that though.

  He nods, and I swallow in response. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman wear the cut of one of the men.

  Zane shimmies out of his cut and helps me into it. It’s warm and way too big for me. The heaviness of it anchoring a sense of security into my bones.

  His nose caresses my earlobe from behind, his hot sticky breath on the back of my neck.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this day for way too long,” he mutters, the desperation in his voice making my knees wobble.