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

by Mellett, Manda

  Now there are gunshots and screams. Oh my God. What’s going on?

  I rattle the door handle and pull on it, but it doesn’t budge. Regretting lock-picking is not one of my skills, I wonder if I can kick it down, at least I’ve got strength in my legs, but it opens inward, and that wood looks too thick. And maybe, if the house is filling with smoke, and there’s a gun battle going on, I’m safer this side. What if I get out and am shot?

  My hand is still on the handle when I feel it moving. Someone’s trying it from the other side.

  Friend or foe? In this house there’s little hope of it being the former.

  I slowly back away, wishing there was somewhere to hide. In the bathroom, perhaps? No, it’s too small, no room to manoeuvre. If it’s George coming in, he’s going to feel my knee in his balls again.

  “Stand back!” a voice demands. It's a voice I recognise.

  Shit. I’m hallucinating now. I thought I heard Ink.

  Have I fallen asleep? Is this some nightmare I’m living?

  The door flies open, bouncing back against the wall and almost closing again before revealing the man, not of my nightmares, but of my dreams. Convincing me my subconscious has conjured him up.

  “Ink?”

  “Babe. Stop staring and come with me. Phil might be on his way back with reinforcements.”

  He’s got a phone in one hand and proceeds to talk both to me and the person at the end of the line.

  “Yeah, Prez, I got her. Getting out now. I don’t know if one of his men managed to get a message off. If they did, I don’t know what he cares most about, his compound or drugs… Yeah, man. I hear you.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Beth. Do I have to put you over my shoulder and carry you out? We haven’t got much time.”

  The smoke wafting through the door confirms what he’s saying.

  I can’t make my feet move. He grabs my hand.

  “Move, Beth,” he instructs using his dominant tone. At last my body unfreezes.

  How? Why? runs through my head, though this isn’t the time to ask. We tear down the stairs, and Ink stops so fast, I run straight into his back. George and Marcus, instead of running away from the flames, are trying to open a door that I hadn’t noticed before.

  Ink raises his gun.

  “Got to get them out…” Marcus ignores him and rounds on George. “Kick it down.”

  “I’ll find the key.”

  “There’s no fucking time,” Marcus spits back.

  “What’s down there?” Ink snaps.

  “Merchandise.”

  Cad appears, his gun aimed at the two men. “Let the drugs burn.”

  “Not drugs man, the breathing kind.”

  “Fuck,” Ink breathes out. “Kick that fucker down.”

  The heavyweight door at last splinters and falls in. It must have been soundproofed. Now it’s opened, it’s possible to hear screams and cries.

  “Go bring ‘em up.” Ink waves his gun toward George and Marcus.

  Marcus pushes George down the stairs, then follows him. There’s a loud crack as if a timber has fallen, and the screams start again. Then, two young women appear, a girl in her late teens, and one even younger. Their faces are white with shock.

  “Beth?”

  I’m there. “You’ve got to get out. Come with me.” I herd them toward the front door, sparing only a moment to ask Cad. “Is it safe out there?” I don’t want to run into my father’s men.

  “Yeah, just don’t look around too much.”

  “Hey what are you doing? Don’t let them escape! They’re worth money,” Marcus shouts, trying to grab one of the women’s arms.

  Ink raises his gun and a perfect circle appears on Phil’s man’s forehead.

  As his teammate falls to the ground, George raises his arms. “Hey, man. I was just saving them. Let them go, I don’t…”

  He now has also fallen and staring up with wide dulling eyes.

  “Out, Beth. Now!”

  Ink draws my shocked attention back to the smoke-filled hallway, flames clearly visible through the open door of Phil’s sitting room.

  The women have already run out but have stopped dead fearing Pal who’s standing guard over the man I recognise as the gardener and the maid who’d brought me my breakfast what seems like a lifetime ago. I run over to the group, almost tripping on a severed arm. Now I heed Cad’s earlier warning and keep my eyes focused on people standing. I yell at Pal when it looks like he’s reaching into his belt.

  “They’re nothing,” I shout at him. “Don’t harm them.”

  “Sort of gathered that,” he says. Then turns to the maid rattling off some Spanish.

  “Si, Signor,” is her response. “No,” and shakes her head.

  Ink’s close behind me. “Tell them they can go,” he tells Pal.

  What Pal had been reaching for was a wad of dollars, he divides it in two then presses half into each of the Hispanics’ hands. “Lay low,” he tells them.

  They don’t need telling twice. With a stunned but grateful look, their fingers curl tightly around the money, and then they run off.

  “You two,” Ink addresses the shocked women who came up from the basement. “You got family close by?”

  They still, hardly daring to breathe. “You’re letting us go?”

  “We’re not going to be sold?” one asks wide-eyed.

  Ink looks surprised it was ever in question. “Of course, you’re fuckin’ not. If you’ve got a place to go, then yeah, we won’t stop you leaving.”

  The young teenager holds up her hand. “My family is in Denver.”

  “We haven’t got family,” the older woman says. “But we’ll find our way on the streets.”

  Ink closes his eyes for a moment. “We’ll get you back to your family,” he tells the younger girl, then regards the other two. “Finding your way on the streets is probably what got you into Phil’s clutches. Look, we’re from Pueblo. You can come back with us if you want. We can get you to safety. Sort you out while you find somewhere to go.”

  The two women look at each other, then at me, then spy the house burning down behind us.

  I see their reluctance. Remembering Ink’s words on the phone, I tell them, “No pressure, but we’ve got to get going. Phil, the man who was holding you, well, he might be on his way back.”

  They put their heads together, then the older one who seems to be the spokesperson says hesitantly eyeing me, “Do you trust these men?” When I give a heartfelt yes. They’d come for me. She adds, “Getting out of town sounds like the best idea. We’ll go to Pueblo.”

  Cad’s on his phone now, but only for a moment. Almost as soon as he’s ended the call a truck is driving up with the prospect Karl at the wheel.

  “Sorry, ladies. Gonna be a bit of a squash until we get back to the bikes,” Cad explains, bundling the women into the back. Ink, Cad and Pal indicate they’ll go into the rear compartment normally reserved for transporting motorcycles. I go to squeeze in with the women, but Karl waves to the passenger seat.

  “Thought it would be easier than folding yourself up in the back.” I appreciate his thoughtfulness.

  They discuss the women for a second, and Karl agrees to drop the teenager home before heading back to Pueblo. Ink, Cad and Pal will be left to come back on their bikes.

  I sit during the short journey, trying to process my swiftly changing fate. Trying to work out how Ink is here and free, wondering if he’s got a twin brother I hadn’t known about who was here instead, then dismiss that. There’s no doubt it was Ink. Which begs further questions. How the fuck is he here? Did he get bail after all? Were the charges dropped? And, most important, what does that mean for him and for me?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Ink

  Yesterday I’d gone through the best and worst of times. My release from jail is about up there with one of the happiest moments of my life, but I’d crashed down to earth when I found out Beth was gone. When I’d seen her on that drone camera footage, l
ooking unharmed, I’d felt relief, but urgency to get this job done and bring her home safe.

  There had been a propane tank around the opposite side of the house. I’d fired the rocket launcher with an incendiary head straight at it, the explosion had taken out half of the building, and the fire spread faster than expected. We’d wasted no time approaching and picking off the men who’d come running out, more intent on saving themselves than anything or anyone inside.

  I’ve found Beth. The relief that sweeps through me is overwhelming. There had been moments when I doubted ever seeing her again, in jail, of course, but even after I was released.

  In the rush to get out alive, including those poor bitches kept imprisoned in a burning basement, then all of us away and safe, I hadn’t had a moment to talk to her, nor even a second to read the expressions on her face.

  She’s safe. Alive. Unwilling to spend another minute apart, I’m determined I’m going to be feeling her arms around my waist as I ride back to Pueblo. In the back of the truck, I thank fuck I’d put that double seat on my bike before I’d gone inside.

  The moment I’d seen her again, I knew I’d not exaggerated my feelings for her. If I have my way, from now on, she’ll never be out of my sight.

  If she’s got doubts, if she doesn’t want to commit, I’ll just have to tie her to my bed and fuck her until she admits I’m the man she wants for the rest of her life. Maybe, if she’s willing, put my baby inside her. I’ll use every trick in the book to tie her to me. She’s mine now, she’s going to have to accept it.

  Hey, if nothing else works, I’ll play on her guilt. I could have gone inside for thirty years of my life, she should be prepared to give me thirty of hers.

  Yeah, I’ll find some sneaky darn ways to make her see sense. As long as she ends up agreeing to be my old lady, I don’t care what the fuck I have to do to get that result.

  Pal and Cad are talking, Pal nestling that fucking drone in his arms, the technology that had so impressed me and enabled us to carry out our mission successfully. As the two men discuss its performance, I tune them out. It’s not long before we pull up to where our bikes have been parked, a relieved Beaver standing guard.

  “Mission accomplished?”

  Having jumped out of the back, I nod at him. Then go to the passenger side of the truck and pull open the door. Reaching over her, I undo Beth’s seatbelt.

  At her wide eyes, I explain, “You’re coming with me.” Then I grab hold of her hand, firmly, so she has no choice.

  Glancing around, she sees there’s no other mode of transport. “On your bike?”

  “Want you close, babe.” I rest my forehead against hers. “Missed you like fuck. Didn’t expect to see you again…”

  “They said you hated me. That you didn’t want to see me. I don’t understand, Ink.”

  Four days. Surely not enough time for her to have grieved and moved on? I sigh deeply. If her feelings hadn’t the depth of mine, maybe that had been enough. “I had to cut you loose, babe. Couldn’t have you dragged into it. Couldn’t have had you trying to see me. The cops had to believe there was nothing between us.”

  “There wasn’t, was there?”

  Again, I exhale. “Oh, babe.” Here, at the roadside, I really don’t know what to say. How can I explain my feelings toward her?

  She bites her lip. “I told the cops you were just my fuck buddy.”

  She did? That makes me chuckle softly. “I said the same.” Then, I nuzzle the top of her hair with my lips and lower my mouth so it’s against her ear and add, “I lied.”

  “Lied?” Her eyes widen once more.

  “Yeah. You’re more to me than that.” I stare into her face, but she makes no reciprocal comment. Maybe the tying to my bed idea will have to be deployed.

  “How did you get out?”

  I don’t answer as my back gets a hefty slap on it, causing me to raise my head and swear.

  “Ink, Beth. Save the happy reunion until we’re out of Denver, yeah?” Cad snipes. “I want to get as far away as possible in case Phil’s coming back. Hey, Karl, we’ll meet you at the waypoint.”

  “What fuckin’ waypoint?” I ask.

  “Weren’t you listening to a fuckin’ word in the truck?”

  Pal nudges Cad. “He was thinking about fucking. Saw him adjusting himself.”

  His words make me look down. No, I’m not sporting a fucking hard-on. Though with Beth up behind me, I might well be by the time we get to Pueblo.

  Beth, my old lady, who’s currently tugging at my sleeve. “I think I should go back with the prospects,” she says. “I’ve never ridden before.”

  “Here, have this.” Karl’s walked over and has passed her his thick leather jacket he must have had in the back of the truck. I thank him. As I hold it out, she automatically threads her arms through the sleeves while still protesting.

  But the truck’s engine has already started, and I give the dismissive signal that makes Karl pull away.

  Opening my saddlebag, I take out a helmet and place it on her head. “You’re coming with me. Sooner we get to Pueblo, sooner we can have that conversation we need to have.” I then extract my spare bandana and show her how to wrap it around her face.

  I get on the bike. She huffs, looks at me, then at Cad and Pal who are waiting for us, Pal looking amused, Cad looking impatient. Then, gingerly, she throws her leg over the saddle and climbs up behind me. I swear, as soon as her hands go around my waist, it feels like I’ve really come home.

  I’m conscious no one’s ever ridden behind me before. I tug on her hands to pull them around me more securely, then give her the instructions all new riders need. She carefully places her feet on the pegs and looks down at the exhaust I’d warned her about in consternation.

  “Here,” I pass her Karl’s gloves he’d also given to me before he left, “put these on. It’s going to get cold.” I wish the weather was warmer for her first ride, but my body should shield her from the worst of the wind which will become biting when we pick up speed. I know I’m being selfish, but I meant it when I vowed not to let her out of my sight. At least not yet.

  “Huh,” she huffs in protest. “I should have gone in the truck.” But then her arms tighten around me and she rests her head on my shoulder for a moment, allowing me to feel her warm breath against my neck. I swear she inhales as if reminding herself of my natural scent.

  Cad and Pal start their engines, I follow a moment later, taking a few seconds to allow myself to believe she’s really here.

  Then I press the start button, kick down into first, let out the clutch and we’re off. At first her arms have a death grip on me, but my new seat has a sissy bar attached and after only a few minutes, her hold starts to relax as she realises there’s no way she can slide off and land on her ass on the road.

  Still, when we come to a red light, I throw the question back over my shoulder, “You doing alright?”

  “Fine.”

  I allow myself to believe, in this instance, when she says fine, she really means it.

  As we head out of the city and onto the open road, I’m congratulating myself that I’ve found a natural. She moves with me as though she’s been doing it all her life and this isn’t her first ride. She’s not unbalancing the bike at all, even though I’m also a virgin when it comes to having someone riding behind.

  It’s a two-hour ride give or take, and I just want to get her home. I take the lead then open the throttle and pick up the speed, Cad and Pal easily keep up. We’re about half-an-hour from the compound when we reach the arranged waypoint, not having to wait long for Karl to catch up. He collects what we need from the back, and quickly I slide into my cut, welcoming its weight on my shoulders again.

  “Drop the kid off okay?”

  “Yeah, no problem. Saw her being hugged at the front door and took off,” Karl reports.

  Then, due to the decided chill in the air, we get straight back on our bikes. Soon after, I’m forced to slow. Red and blue flashing lights
ahead warning me there’s been an incident or accident.

  Well, fuck me. Cars are queued up on the road and they’re not moving. Being on bikes I cockily wave at Karl as we go past the truck and the rest of the cars and make our way to the front. A firefighter approaches us.

  “Can we get past?” I can understand why they’d stop cars, but it looks like there’s room for bikes to pass. “Fuckin’ cold to hang around.”

  The firefighter views us carefully, and I swear it probably helps having a shivering bitch on the back as he appears sympathetic. “There’s been an explosion. There’s some sort of chemical on the road.” I realise the mask he’s wearing isn’t to protect him from the cold. “We don’t know what it is yet, probably not dangerous but there’s always a risk. Keep your nose and mouths covered and don’t hang around to gawk.” Then he stands back and, thank fuck waves us past.

  I spare a grin for the cars waiting who haven’t been so lucky.

  Of course, I look. There’re two trucks, or what’s left of them. The one in front has disintegrated entirely, looks like some kind of explosion to me. The one behind burned out on its side, the front smashed in as though it couldn’t stop and drove into the first.

  There are firefighters hosing down the road with some sort of foam, and a dust still blowing in the air.

  What the fuck is it?

  But I heed the firefighter’s advice and pick up my speed, leaving the clearly fatal accident site in my rearview. An idea is forming in my mind, and I only hope that I’m right. An idea that’s confirmed when we reach a turn off and two bikes come down from the hillside and join us.

  Pyro raises his hand in a confident salute as he falls in by my side, allowing me to know while Beth doesn’t know it, but she’s just ridden past the remains of her dad.

  When we reach the compound, she’s still unaware of the implications. I tap her leg, then turn. “Off, babe. Then I’ll park.”

  She puts a hand on my shoulder, then stiffly eases herself off. Having cut the engine, I hear her groan, and she balances herself on me for a second. When she lets go, I waste no time paddling my bike back into my space.