Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6

by Mellett, Manda

  I know they are going to argue.

  But they don’t. Barker looks at Sykes rather than me. “We are not intending to proceed with bringing any charges against your client at this point in time.”

  What? I shake my head fast in case my ears need clearing.

  “We may, however, wish to question Mr McNeish if our inquiries show he might have something useful to offer. But for now, Mr McNeish is free to leave.”

  As the detectives pull their papers together, get up and go, I remain seated, unable to believe the words I’ve just heard.

  “You going to just sit there?” Sykes is looking at me with something akin to amusement on his face.

  “I can go?” It seems like a dream.

  “You can go. You want a lift to the compound?”

  I’m still trying to process how my fortunes have turned around. Yes, the clubhouse first, see my brothers, pick up my bike. Then I’ll go see Beth and commiserate about the death of her brother, then when she’s in a better head space, find out how she’d feel about becoming my old lady.

  “Too fuckin’ right I’d like a lift,” I tell him, a grin now splitting my face.

  I have to go through the formalities, first signing the forms to regain my possessions, carrying my cut as I’ll be leaving in a cage. I experience an incredible sense of relief when I’m on the right side of the steel door and security gates. It’s not until I’m out in the open that I start to relax and begin to lose the feeling someone’s going to run out from behind me and say letting me go was a mistake.

  The skies are grey and there’s a cold winter drizzle falling, but it doesn’t prevent me raising my head and just staring at the open expanse of sky above me. Only minutes ago, I hadn’t thought to see such a sight again, or not when it wasn’t framed by prison walls.

  “You coming?” Sykes is standing by his open door, unlike me, he seems to object to getting wet, as after his question he quickly slides into the driver’s seat.

  Yeah. I’m fucking coming. Don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary. As I turn and walk smartly to the passenger side of his Lexus, I start to believe I really am free.

  Sykes puts the car into gear. As he draws away, part of my mind wonders just how much we’re paying him for him to be able to afford a high-end model car. But part thinks however much it is, it’s worth it if he had anything to do with getting me out.

  During the short journey, I try, not totally successfully, to rearrange my thoughts. I’d spent the last few days convincing myself I could cope with being locked up for the rest of what could be a short life. Bikers are in danger in the penitentiary. Now I’m apparently a free man.

  A free man who’s got a ball and chain. A man who’s claimed an old lady. Well, as far as my brothers are concerned, I have. Beth, though, she’s ignorant of my intentions. Guess I’ll let her grieve some for Connor, then I better try to ease her back into a relationship that she thought I’d rather forget.

  On the inside, there was some comfort in knowing everyone thought she was mine, a dream to cling onto. Now it’s reality and I’ve got to face it. Is that still what I want? Now when I’ve got back my freedom, will I find my mind changing and our relationship disappearing like smoke?

  I want to fuck her again, no doubt about that. My dick’s already stirring in anticipation. But live with her?

  Could we make it work?

  Do I even want to try?

  What if someone’s let slip that I claimed her? What if she knows and she’s all starry-eyed because she’s got what she wanted, a biker of her own like Mel snagged Ro. What if she clings if I don’t want to make a go of it? What if she holds me to promises I made inside?

  I’d done it to give her protection. Had my brothers known it was a sham? Would they be let down if I unclaimed her just as fast as I’d told them she was mine?

  And what if I did? Judge had been sniffing around her, Sparky too. As a woman with no patch on her, someone as beautiful and sexy as her would be fair game and wouldn’t be on her own for too long.

  “You okay?” Sykes gives me a strange look. “I swear you just growled.”

  But I’m saved from giving an answer. Karl opens the gates, his eyes widening as he recognises me sitting next to my lawyer, but like any good prospect, doesn’t ask anything to satisfy his curiosity. All he does is give me a chin lift, accompanied by a wide grin.

  “You coming in?” I ask Sykes.

  “No. Just tell Demon he’ll get my bill in good time.”

  I hold out my hand, he does likewise and shakes it. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

  “Cops have your number now. Stay out of trouble, Ink.”

  “You can bet on it.” I never want to go through the last few days again.

  Then I’m out of the car and opening the door to the clubhouse as Sykes does a three-point turn and heads out the gate.

  I expect the clubhouse to be fairly quiet, it’s Tuesday night after all, and not a day we’d have a party. Of course, there’ll be club girls around doing what they’re there for, brothers drinking or playing pool, but those who live off the compound will probably have gone home. I’m just looking forward to seeing any friendly face, have had it up to the back teeth with drunks or the police. But when I step inside, I’m surprised to find it’s crowded, and noisy. Well, until people turn to see who’s come in the door. Then silence descends like a switch being thrown.

  I stand, hold my hands out to my sides, and grin widely. “Hey, honey, I’m home,” I call out loudly, then chuckle at my own joke. It’s only seconds before I realise nobody’s laughing.

  “Hey, I didn’t bust out. They let me go,” I say, wondering why no one’s rushing up to greet me.

  “Ink.” Mace moves at last, coming forward and pausing, then his arms come around me in the bear hug I’d expected to be the first of many. But as we exchange back slaps, he doesn’t say how good it is to have me back. Instead he tells me, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

  Pushing him away, I hold him at arm’s length. “What the fuck you talking about?” I go to the only explanation for his behaviour that I can think of. “Who’s fuckin’ died?” I already know about Connor, but even so, can’t think Beth’s brother would cause my brothers’ sorrow. They didn’t know the man, unless, Beth’s too distressed.

  “Beth…” he starts.

  Beth’s dead? She can’t be.

  “What’s happened?” I ask, at first quietly. Then start shouting, “What the fuck’s happened to Beth?” Beth can’t be dead. We never had a chance to find out what we were to each other. Pain slams into me at the thought I’m free, but it sounds like she’s still lost to me. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Beth’s been taken…”

  “She’s not dead?” I ask hurriedly, wondering if my interpretation’s wishful thinking.

  The VP comes up and pushes Mace to one side as if realising he’s making a mess of telling me what’s going on. “She’s been taken by her father. He wants to exchange her for the drugs.”

  “What drugs? What the fuck is going on, Beef?”

  Nothing makes sense. Beth doesn’t have anything to do with her father. And what the fuck is all this about drugs? The police had gotten what she was carrying that night.

  “I left her under your protection, Beef.” My voice is growing louder. “What the fuck do you mean she was kidnapped? When? Where fuckin’ from? Who do I kill as they didn’t protect her?”

  “I’m sorry…” he starts.

  I interrupt. “Sorry? Fuckin’ sorry?” My hand slashes through the air as all everyone seems to be doing is apologising. “What are you fuckin’ doing about finding my ol’ lady?”

  “We’re just about to meet about that,” the prez’s voice says, sharply and loudly. “Welcome home, Ink.” He draws closer, clasping my hand and pulling me to him. “So fuckin’ glad to have you back. I’m just sorry you’ve got out only to have to deal with this.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

 
Beth

  Sandwiched between my sperm donor’s two henchman does not make for a comfortable two-hour journey. They’re big and muscular, and I’m not a small person, being so squashed, the invasion of my personal space is claustrophobic.

  My father isn’t even in the same car, so I can’t appeal to him. Instead, another of his men is driving, and a fourth is in the front passenger seat.

  I keep quiet. I have no expectation that anything I could say might appeal to any better nature they may, or probably may not, possess. It’s my father who’s in charge of the purse strings, he’s the one paying them. I’ve nothing to offer, except the one thing I couldn’t even bring myself to suggest. It’s not lost on me that the man next to the driver was the one who’d already made lewd comments and said things which made my blood run cold. When he glances over his shoulder and views me up and down carefully, the whole time leering, I want to shrink and disappear. Phil would never let his men touch me. Or would he? What do I know of the man who hasn’t cared he had a daughter for eighteen years?

  He said he’d exchange me for eight kilos of heroin. He didn’t promise to give me back unharmed or unmolested.

  Phil scares me, and with good reason. I had made myself believe Connor was still alive and breathing, the fact that Phil has come after me instead, means my optimism was for nothing. If he was convinced Connor wasn’t dead, it would be him he’d be going after. That he knew what had happened to my brother strongly suggests he had a hand in it. Condoned it? Quite possibly.

  What will Mom do? I run through her options. Go to the police? And say what? That I’m with my father? I’m twenty-seven, not a kid, and Phil would probably say I’d gone willingly. To give all the background would drop all of us in it. Go to the Satan’s Devils? But she’s put them in Phil’s sights. How I wish Mom had kept her mouth shut, but I know she was only trying to keep me safe, taking a gamble which hadn’t paid off.

  Maybe the Devils will just hand the heroin over. The only problem with that is they might have destroyed them already. I feel myself pale. If there are no drugs, what would happen to me and the Devils then? I’m not naïve, I can guess how much money those drugs were worth. Maybe not put a precise value on them, but it has to be one heck of a lot. More than I’ve got or am likely to ever possess.

  Phil’s got at least five rough-fighting men working for him. I have no doubt he’s got more, or even a small army. Would he go after them for revenge, the Devils and my friends, their old ladies? Mel’s already lost so much, oh God, I hope no more harm or worry is heading her way. Heaven forbid she loses the baby she’s carrying. They’re Ink’s family. I’ve taken his freedom from him. If Phil starts a war, I could be taking his family as well.

  How the hell has it come to this, me being abducted by my own father? I didn’t need Mom to spell out that he lacks empathy, he didn’t so much as turn a hair at his son being dead. No, his only concern is the drugs and therefore the money he’s lost.

  I thought Ink being in jail and Connor dead was enough punishment inflicted on me. Now more people might die or be hurt because of the wrong decisions I made. Everything I touch seems to turn sour.

  Maybe it’s best Ink’s locked up. Free, he might have tried to save me, and could have ended up killed instead.

  The car rolls on. The men discuss a game they plan to watch at the weekend. Then, purposefully to unnerve me, they discuss their favourite sexual positions. I try to ignore their talk about women taking it in the ass. When I’m asked if I’ve tried it, I pay them no attention, focusing instead on my memory of Ink suggesting the very same thing. I hope, if I’m ever brave enough to try, it would be with the man who’d treat me carefully. I’ve no doubt I’d be forced if Phil lets his men have me. He wouldn’t, would he? He’s my father.

  I close my eyes, trying to block out everything except thoughts of Ink. Wondering what would have happened if Connor had never left those drugs in our house. Would we have continued our relationship? Would there have ever been a chance he’d have made me his old lady? It’s an impossible dream, but better to cling onto than consider the reality that’s facing me now. I hope he really does hate me, then he wouldn’t get upset when he finds out I’m gone.

  Mom. I’ve tried to ignore the thought that she must be going crazy. She’s supposed to be burying her son, now she’s lost her daughter as well.

  The journey seems to go on forever and the men won’t stop talking. I want to scream, Shut up. I don’t want to hear any more lack of respect for women. I don’t want to know what it’s like to force your cock into an unwilling partner. But I stay silent, knowing they’re only trying to taunt me.

  It’s not even a relief when we finally draw up to some gates which seem to slide open automatically. Phil’s lair, I suppose. I have a sense of being about to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire. All I can hope is that I don’t get burned too badly.

  My father has arrived before us. I’m shown into a pleasantly furnished room. He’s standing in front of a fireplace holding a glass of something which is either whiskey or brandy, but I don’t get to know as he offers nothing to me. One of the men who’d brought me in, closes the door with himself this side of it, as if emphasising I can’t escape.

  My father takes a sip of his drink and then waves the glass toward me. “What’s your relationship with the Satan’s Devils?”

  “My boyfriend rides with them.” He knows that already. “Other than that, I have none.”

  His eyes narrow. “Why the fuck did you give eight kilos of heroin to them? Heroin that was mine.”

  I shrug. “They just came and took them. I wasn’t at home.” Again, the truth.

  Suddenly he puts down his glass and strides toward me. “Who told them where they were? You?”

  My brother’s dead, there’s nothing more Phil can do to him. He might as well take the blame. “I don’t know, Connor perhaps? Maybe Connor had worked out a deal with them?”

  “Connor wouldn’t have been so stupid,” he spits into my face. “He knows the Devils don’t deal in drugs.” His hands twitch at his sides, and for a second, I fear he’s going to hit me. Then, as if making an effort to control himself, he turns and says, as if he’s voicing an idea, “I suppose anyone can change their views for that amount of money.” He’s quiet for a moment, then accuses, “I think you know a lot more than you’re saying.”

  In truth, I don’t. The Devils took the drugs because I told them they were there, and we wanted them out of the house. What they did with them, or plan to do with them is a mystery. I tell him a version of that. “I don’t care what happened to the illegal substances. Had Connor told us what was there, we wouldn’t have allowed him to leave it.”

  “Don’t fucking care about something with a street value close to a million dollars?” His eyes widen in disbelief, and his jaw clenches betraying his anger.

  I shrug. “Heroin kills people.”

  He snorts. “It kills people, whoever distributes it. I assure you, my naïve daughter, whoever took it will sell it and walk away with my money.”

  He’s right. Most people would. But I know in my gut the Devils wouldn’t.

  “What are you going to do if the Devils don’t give the drugs back?”

  He stares at me as if I’m stupid. “You better fucking hope they do.” His eyes flash me a warning. “But if they don’t? I’ll take them, of course. They can’t have shifted that volume already. No one gets away with crossing me. But what am I going to do about you either way is another question.” He eyes me in a manner I don’t like, then goes back and picks up his glass, saying over his shoulder, “Don’t think for a moment this is a fond family reunion, and don’t bother playing on our relationship. I already got burned when I took your brother under my wing. I left you when you were a kid, never wanted to know about you. Thought Connor might have been useful, but he fucked up. I don’t think of either of you as family. You got that, Bethany?”

  It’s hard to hear, but I’d already guessed there was noth
ing humane in him to appeal to. I nod.

  “So you think on that. If you know more than you’re telling me, if this was some plot you and your brother cooked up with the Satan’s Devils to steal from me, my men will get it out of you. If you don’t have anything useful to offer, then you’re going to wish you had.”

  There’s a chuckle from the man standing behind me.

  I go cold as I read between the lines.

  “But tonight, I’ll see what Patsy gets up to. I’ll give her a chance to get my drugs back.” A twisted grin comes onto his face. “Straitlaced Patsy will have to walk into an outlaw MC if she wants her daughter back. Whether she’ll walk out alive is another matter entirely. Men like that,” he shakes his head, “don’t care who they step on. And don’t get your hopes up, a million dollars is a fucking lot of money. They won’t give it up for a woman, I can tell you that. But if she hasn’t contacted them already, I may need to send her a finger to prompt her. George, show her to the guest room, will you?”

  The casual mention of cutting off one of my fingers is terrifying. He doesn’t care about the danger he thinks he’s put my mom in, forcing her to ask favours of an MC. I didn’t know men as evil as him existed.

  “Want me to keep her company?”

  My father looks over my shoulder for a moment while I forget to breathe. Surely, he wouldn’t let his men rape me?

  But he seems to give it some consideration. “Not tonight. Time for that later. Let’s see if the Devils make contact. We might need her… undamaged… to tempt them to hand the drugs over. Unlikely, but possible.”

  “Shame,” I hear from behind.

  There’s another man waiting outside in the hallway with what I can only describe is a look of anticipation on his face. George gives a rueful shake of his head in his direction, then points me to the stairs and follows me as I ascend.