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

by Mellett, Manda

  “So where are you having it? Your tat.”

  Her mouth presses together. Then, she turns the tables. “What about you?” She gestures toward my arms already covered in colourful depictions of almost every design you can think of. “I can’t believe you have any more space.”

  I place my hand over my heart. “I’ve got room here.”

  “A woman’s name?” she takes a stab.

  “Nah. Not found my one yet.” I don’t add, I’m not looking.

  “Right, I’ll leave you with Jonah and he can settle you up. You’ve got your instructions about aftercare?” Vi’s voice reaches us. She drops her client off at the reception desk, then turns to the woman I’ve been speaking to.

  “Shayla. Good to see you again. Sorry I overran. You want to come on back?” As she steps aside, she glances down at me. “You okay, Mace?”

  “Yeah,” I tell her. “I’m waiting on Liz.”

  As the two women disappear, my eyes seem locked on Shayla’s ass. Bit skinnier than I’d normally like, but hell, the way her hips sway when she walks goes straight to my cock.

  I flick through a magazine, help myself to a coffee in the back, stand and stretch, then study some of the work Liz produces. Hell, no wonder this place is doing well, he’s a fuckin’ ace artist. As for Vi, seems she’s just getting into her stride. Wouldn’t surprise me if she turned out even better. Jonah’s no slouch either. Hope Whale turns out as good.

  “Hey Mace.” Liz puts in an appearance, jerking his head toward the back. When I approach him, he turns and leads the way into his office.

  “I spoke to Shayla for a couple of minutes.”

  “Yeah?” My statement has captured his interest. “What’s your impression?”

  I’ve been thinking about that. “Jumpy, nervous. Of course, she might not enjoy anticipating needles going into her back.” The sound of Vi’s tattoo gun whirring reaches us. “Couldn’t tell much more than that.” Of course, I hadn’t been able to come straight out and ask her about the tattoo she didn’t know I knew she had. “Seems quiet in here today?”

  “It’s Monday, Brother. Sometimes I wonder why we open at all. Don’t get much walk-in business. The hairdressers next door is closed, so we get no business from that.”

  I nod. “How long is Vi going to be?”

  “Depends on the tolerance of her client. She’s booked her in for a four-hour stretch. Fancy a smoke?”

  I do. In deference to the clients rather than any citizen law, we step out the back. The sun is shining as I take out my cigarettes and pass him one. I flick my lighter, then cupping my hand around it, hold the flame to his, then to mine. I breathe in smoke, feeling the nicotine soaking into my lungs. I know I should give up and have been cutting down, but hey, a man’s allowed at least one vice. Hmm. Got a few more than that. Shit, riding my bike is dangerous for my health, but who the fuck cares? You only get one life, might as well enjoy it.

  We stand and enjoy our cigarettes in a comfortable silence.

  “Appreciate the company if I’m honest, Mace.”

  I raise my chin in answer. “Can you take off? If Shayla’s going to be tied up with Vi for a spell, and this place is dead, we could go and get some lunch.”

  “Don’t see why the fuck not.” He brightens and stubs out his cigarette in the receptacle provided for that purpose. “Let me just check with Jonah. If there’s been no sudden rush,” his mouth twists showing he doesn’t expect it, “want to go get tacos?”

  “Yeah.” I could definitely eat, my sugar-filled breakfast already forgotten. I suspect Liz will suggest a food truck which has surprisingly good offerings.

  Jonah’s good, so we go get ourselves fed. When we return, Vi’s at reception. She turns when we walk in.

  “Shayla’s gone, but she’s coming back.” Unusual for the prez’s woman, she seems tense.

  “You’re doing more work today?”

  Vi shakes her head at Liz. “No, but she’s bringing a friend with her.” She inclines her head toward the back and stands. Following, I once again find myself in Liz’s office.

  “So?” Liz queries as soon as the door is closed.

  Vi looks at me, then her boss. “Her friend also has a tat she wants covered up.”

  “More business,” Liz observes, while from the look on her face, I’m wondering whether there’s more to it than something which, on the face of it, doesn’t seem strange. We often get more clients from personal recommendations.

  “She give you any info about this Major?” I throw in.

  “No.” Vi’s lips press together. “She’s not very chatty. I did try and probe a little, asking if a relationship had gone sour. From her reaction, it certainly had, but she didn’t give me any details.”

  “Is that usual?” I ask. “Do people normally shoot the shit while you’re working on them?”

  Vi shrugs. “It depends. Some will hold a conversation to take their mind off what I’m doing, some get lost in the sensations. I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t read much into it.”

  “What’s your view of her, Vi?”

  Another rise and dip of her shoulders, and that worried little frown appears again. “She’s not from here, has recently moved to Pueblo, that much she did tell me. She found us online, came to us because of our reputation and good reviews.”

  “She know the shop’s owned by the Satan’s Devils?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  A lot of nothing. Apart from some very acceptable tacos, on the surface, a wasted day for me. But Vi does seem unusually agitated.

  “What are you worried about?” I ask her directly.

  She shrugs again. “I don’t know, Mace. Something feels… wrong.”

  There’s a knock and the door simultaneously opens to reveal Jonah. He jerks his head at Vi.

  “Your client’s back. She’s got a friend with her.”

  “Why that face, Jo?” Liz queries, having picked up something’s not right just as I have.

  “If that girl’s eighteen, I’ll eat my fuckin’ socks,” Jonah tells us.

  Lizard leans forward and starts banging his head on the desk.

  “If she’s got a parent’s consent, she can get a tattoo done. No lower age limit in Colorado with permission,” I remind Liz.

  He points up to the list of the shop’s rules on the wall. No tattoos under the age of 18. Yeah, we set our own requirements. I know Liz’s reasoning, should someone point the finger at us, all those parental permissions are just one more set of paperwork he needs to have and keep straight.

  “It’s not a tat,” says Vi. “It’s a coverup.”

  It’s a reminder that someone, somewhere, has already given an underage girl a tattoo. One she now regrets from the sounds of it.

  “Boss.” Jonah looks awkward. “What do you want me to do?”

  Vi stands, using her hand to push herself up. “Let me handle this. I’ll take her back to my station, have a look at what she wants done. Ask her, her age, then report back.”

  Unlike me, the prez’s woman couldn’t appear less threatening if she tried. Certainly, a good idea to let her handle this.

  “Might just be a small heart with a boyfriend’s name,” I tell Liz. “If she’s that young, maybe it wasn’t even professionally done. If she can get the right paperwork, maybe we can make an exception this once.”

  “I don’t like this Mace. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve got a funny feeling about Shayla.” He taps his nose. “There’s a smell I don’t like.”

  I know he doesn’t mean he’s taken exception to her perfume.

  Lizard might have forgotten a lot of his time with the Marines, but he still retains his training to his core. I, too, am constantly on the outlook for trouble. You don’t spend time in the sandbox without looking over your shoulder and being aware of the slightest thing out of place at any time.

  He fidgets, I pace. I’m hoping my innocent suggestion was right and we’re looking for problems where there are none. But when Vi retu
rns, just one look at her face tells me I’m wrong to be optimistic.

  Liz stands fast. “What is it?”

  Vi looks stunned. “She’s young. Fourteen, fifteen? Sixteen at a stretch. Shayla’s trying to tell me she’s an adult,” she huffs. “No damn way.”

  “The tattoo?”

  I know something’s very wrong when Vi looks straight at me. She’s gone pale. “It’s exactly the same one as Shayla’s.” And in case we had any doubts, adds, “Same man.”

  Fuck. Two identical tats? Two women wearing the same property patch? That sounds more like a fucking brand.

  “Okay,” Liz starts, drawing out the word.

  “It gets worse,” interrupts Vi, her eyes filling with tears. “She’s a nice girl. Pretty to look at. She’s quick to smile. Easy to scare—I moved too fast and she jumped. She’s also, she’s… mentally impaired.”

  “Oh fuck no. We can’t do it, Vi.”

  “Please Liz, please. Just talk to them. Please.” Vi’s close to begging. “There’s something really wrong, and we can help sort it out.”

  “What’s up, Liz?” Ignoring Vi for a moment, I focus on him. His firm refusal sounding alarm bells.

  My brother meets my eyes. “It’s against the law to ink anyone who’s not all there.”

  “Since when do we care what’s legal?” I scoff.

  “Since we run a legit tattoo business. Since we’ve moved to a good part of town and attract a better clientele. Since we have ‘nice’ women coming in from the hairdressers next door. You think they’re not suspicious enough when they see brothers around? They come because we’re good at what we do. They come because they dared themselves to walk among men like us. They come because they’d delight in finding we don’t walk the straight and narrow. One step out of line and we’d have the heat coming down before we could blink.”

  I’m not fazed. “So, we do it off hours. Let’s at least talk to them.”

  At his reluctant nod, Vi turns. Moments later, she’s encouraging Shayla and the girl into Liz’s office. I’ve positioned myself just in front of the door so she doesn’t notice me until I’ve shut it, and now stand with my back against it so she can’t run.

  Shayla’s still talking to Vi. “I’m not sure this is necessary. I’m prepared to pay the full price for both. I don’t need a discount, so I don’t need to see your boss.” She sounds nervous. When her wary glance around the room shows me in my stance by the door, she pales. “Look, we’ll go somewhere else.”

  “Sit down,” barks Liz.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lizard

  I didn’t mean to snap, just need to get this situation under some semblance of control. Jonah and Vi were right. This kid, now sitting in front of me, isn’t even close to the age of consent.

  I take a moment to steady my voice, needing first to stamp down the rage which had risen inside me. “Hey, honey, would you like some candy? I’ve got some in my desk outside we can get for you.”

  The girl puts her thumb in her mouth and nods shyly. Vi goes to the door, Mace steps aside to let her out, then retakes his sentry position.

  “What’s your name?”

  The girl looks at the woman now seated beside her. The woman mouths something. The girl shakes her head. Then it’s Shayla who provides the information I asked for when she says, “Esme.”

  “Esme,” I say, keeping my tone as gentle as I can. “That’s a nice name.”

  Vi had told me she was pretty. When she smiles, it could brighten a person’s day. I’m not sure what it is, there’s such a look of innocence and joy about her. My hands clench. Only one reason a man puts a property patch on a female, and it’s not because she’s his daughter.

  I move my gaze onto Shayla. Without preamble, I get straight down to what I want to know. “Who’s Major?”

  A whimper draws my attention away.

  “It’s alright,” Shayla reassures Esme, more confidently than I expected, as though she’s being strong for the girl. “He’s not here, okay?” Her face grows fierce. “I’m never going to let him hurt you again.”

  Just my enquiry has upset the kid. She’s drawn up her legs so her heels rest on the chair, her arms are wrapped around her knees and her head is bent with her face hidden. At that moment, the door opens, and Vi walks back in. She sees Esme and glares in my direction, then spares another for Mace.

  “Vi,” I decide fast, “can you take Esme back to your station? Perhaps she’d like to help you draw something?”

  Shayla looks my way, summing up the situation fast. “No, no talking.” She starts to stand. “We’ll be on our way. I’ll pay you for what you’ve already done—”

  “Sit,” I tell her again, almost surprised when she does. “Sounds like you and the girl both need work completed. I suspect you came to us as you thought we wouldn’t ask too many questions, and maybe you’re right. We give a shit about what we do and running a good business, but we also give a shit about keeping women and kids safe. You’re free to go, we ain’t gonna stop you. Just think about this. Any tattoo artist prepared to work on her,” I point to Esme, still rocking in her chair, “won’t be worth shit. Anyone good enough will be too concerned about the authorities.”

  “But you aren’t?”

  “We are,” Mace’s voice booms. “But we can work in devious ways. Do this shit off-site or off hours if need be. You think you can find anyone else willing to do that?”

  Shayla’s voice shakes slightly, and her glances in our direction show she’s clearly unnerved by being faced with two, let’s admit it, overbearing men. But she stands her ground which makes her go up in my estimation. “I don’t understand. Why is it such a problem?”

  “Can’t hide what she is,” I say, bluntly.

  I’ll give her one thing, she cares for that kid. It’s obvious as Shayla bristles. “She’s—”

  “A lovely girl,” I put in fast, softening my voice again and making an upward curve of my lips. “Pretty as a picture,” adding, “Ain’t you, sweetheart?” when I see her peering at me through her fingers. “Bet you’re pretty bright too. Just, you’ve got something different to bring to the table than most other people.” I doubt she understands me, but her rocking ceases, and that smile reappears.

  “They’ll help, we’ll help,” Vi tells her. While Shayla doesn’t know it, Vi means the club, not just the men but the old ladies too. “But to do that, they,” she points first to Mace, then indicates me, “need to know your story, that of Esme too. I’ll keep her amused so you can go into details, I guess you may not want her to hear.”

  “You’re free to go, Shayla. We’ll not keep Esme or you here if you’d prefer to leave, but I’ll hazard a guess you’ve got yourself into something you need help getting out of. Something isn’t right, that’s fuckin’ obvious.” Mace’s voice thunders out again, making Shayla jump and turn around. I indicate with my hand; he should calm his tone down. Shayla’s like a cat on a hot tin roof, and she’ll run if we don’t keep things quiet.

  He takes my cue, and offers more gently, “You don’t know us, darlin’, but we know the half of it now. We’ve seen the name…” He doesn’t repeat it, knowing how it set Esme off before. “Now we know it, what happens if we start asking around?”

  “You can’t!” comes her horrified objection. “Please…” Shayla draws her hands down her face and looks at the girl by her side. When her eyes meet mine, there’s defeat in them, but she nods. “Esme?” She waits for a moment until she gets the girl’s attention. “Why don’t you go with Violet? Violet draws pictures. You can show her what you can do if she has a pencil and paper you can use.”

  Esme looks around at Vi who’s smiling and holding out her hand. “What do you like to draw, Esme?”

  Esme checks in with Shayla and mouths something.

  “Dogs. Cats. Any animal really,” Shayla answers for her. It’s clear she’s making an effort to hide her fear from the girl. “Go on, Esme. Go show Vi what you can do.”

  “I like draw
ing animals as well,” Vi tells her. “Shall we both draw unicorns?” Vi puts her arms up to her forehead. “They’ve got two horns, haven’t they?”

  Esme shakes her head violently, and holds up just one of her hands, with her forefinger pointed straight up.

  Vi giggles. “I’m silly, aren’t I? Unicorns only have one horn. I must be thinking of a cow.”

  Esme seems comfortable to go off with the woman who clearly wouldn’t recognise a unicorn if she met one.

  As soon as the door closes behind them, I ask, “Doesn’t she speak?”

  Shayla draws in a deep shuddering breath, then her eyes find mine. “I’m scared. Scared of talking to you, scared of not in case I’m turning help down. I’m scared to get up every morning, scared to breathe. I’m scared for Esme… Scared all the time.”

  Resting my hands on the desk, I try to gentle my features. “We can help you, Shayla. Or we’ll give it a fuckin’ good try. Reckon you need someone on your side.”

  Shayla looks like she’s having an internal battle. Sitting back again, I fold my arms. The ball is in her court now. It’s her decision whether to trust us or not. I see the moment her shoulders slump, as if the offer of having someone to share her burden is too much to turn down.

  She speaks so quietly, I struggle to hear her. “Esme can talk, but she won’t. Not now. When… when I first met her, she was chatty. Too talkative. Well, let’s say she was told to shut up one too many times.”

  I hear Mace’s growl. Then he finds his voice. “Who’s this fuckin’ Major?”

  Shayla’s eyes glisten.

  Mace moves away from his place by the door and instead takes the chair Esme had vacated. “Darlin’, I can think of only one reason why two women have the same ‘Property of’ tattoo, especially when one is a minor.” I watch her face as he speaks and know we’ve got one part of our answer by her expression. He continues, “What we don’t know is who this motherfucker is, and whether you’re still in danger. So, here’s one question for you. You come to the end of your journey, or are you still on the run?”

  She seems relieved we’ve supplied our own answer. “We don’t stay in one place long, if that’s the answer you’re looking for. I don’t even know if he’s still looking, but I can’t risk him finding out where we are. The less anyone knows, the better for us.”