Demon raises his chin. “There are things you should know that are better discussed face-to-face. Would you come to my office?”
“I, er, Maisie?” he calls out to Esme’s mom.
Demon puts a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you let Esme and her mom have some time together.” His eyes flash, signalling something which the girl’s dad picks up on, and his face becomes grimmer.
“Here, D. I’ll get them some refreshments.” Vi, who I hadn’t noticed, steps up, holding onto Theo’s hand.
Looking at her fondly, Demon says to her, “Thanks Vi,” then to the man, “This is my wife, Violet, and our son, Theo.”
“I’m Brett. Brett Waterman.”
As he introduces himself to Violet, I notice his eyes linger on Theo, then they rise to nod at Demon. Seems something about her having a young child has reassured him.
Prez notices. “Well come this way, Brett. Vi will make sure your wife and daughter are looked after, while I catch you up on what you need to know.”
Vi, with Theo toddling along beside her, approaches his wife, Maisie, tapping on her arm to get her attention. Then she gesticulates in our direction, then toward Demon’s office, clearly telling her where we’re taking her man, reassuring her he won’t go far.
Brett relaxes slightly, but his face becomes tight as Demon raises his chin toward me. “Join us, Liz?”
Why me? Because I’m the one who started this. If I’d simply refused to cover a ‘Property of’ patch, we’d never have found Esme.
I sigh and taking out my phone, send off a short text warning Jonah I probably won’t make it to the shop today, then follow Demon and Esme’s dad.
As soon as we’re behind the closed door, Brett asks even before sitting down, “Where’s she been? How did she come to be with you?” His eyes narrow. “Did you take her? Did you have anything to do with her disappearance?”
“I told you on the phone, we discovered her only a few days back. Kept her safe while trying to find out who she was.”
Brett’s eyes focus on Demon’s, then after a moment, he gives a slow nod. “Sometimes words settle better when you can see the man who’s uttering them.” He pulls out the chair, and at last, sits. “Esme means the world to me, Mr Black. I…” he pauses to wipe moisture that’s again leaked from his eyes with no embarrassment. “I still can’t believe she’s out there with Maisie. I…”
Demon pushes the jug of water toward him, along with a glass. “If I could spare you this, I would, Brett.”
“Give it to me, Mr Black. Tell me what I’m dealing with.”
Prez gives him a moment to wet his throat. When Brett replaces the glass on the desk, Demon waves in my direction. “This is Lizard. He runs our tattoo parlour. Best we start from the beginning and tell you how Esme came to be with us.”
Then, with a deep sigh, Prez starts talking. As he does so, he identifies the part I played as the man who first raised suspicions about a woman with a ‘Property of’ tattoo.
I’ve seen Mace use torture before to break men, but I’ve never seen a man so hurt and destroyed by mental pain. When Demon mentions Esme’s tattoo and the significance, he’s openly crying, weeping into his hands. Demon and I give him some time to get his grief under control. Brett goes up in my estimation as slowly he fights for that inner strength inside him.
When at last he stops sobbing, Demon emphasises, “She wasn’t molested, Brett. The woman who helped her escape got her out in time, but she will need therapy. She’s not even talking. How much she knows of what might have happened, no one can tell.”
“Oh, she’s said a couple of words,” I correct, trying to lighten things up and give him some hope. “She tells people to pay up.” Or at least, she has me and Mace.
“Pay up?” Brett’s eyes narrow suspiciously.
Demon chuckles. “We’ve been trying not to swear around her. If we do—and we fuck up a lot—we give her a dollar. There are two fuckin’ swear jars out on the bar, probably close to overflowing by now.”
Which he now owes two dollars to, but I hold my tongue, thinking it’s probably best not to point that out.
Brett tries to process this information. “You’re saying you’ve been trying to make her more comfortable around you? Fuck, she must hate men now. I don’t know what to do, Mr Black. She’s already damaged. I don’t know where to start getting the help that she needs. What do I do?” It’s a rhetorical question which he doesn’t expect us to answer, I can already see wheels turning.
“Why’s she the way she is? Has she got some kind of condition?” I ask.
Now Esme’s father’s eyes harden. “She wasn’t born this way. We had been given the gift of a beautiful, healthy baby girl, and we wanted to bring her up and help her thrive the best we could. She was normal, if you want to term it that. Trouble was, there’s a history of congenital immune system problems in her mom’s family. We were advised that Esme shouldn’t be vaccinated because of that history, that there was a risk if we did, that she’d have health problems. We wanted to do the best for our girl, so took the doctor’s advice. He said the incidence of her catching something was low to non-existent, as the US was mostly clear of mumps and measles.”
“She caught something?” Demon’s face has gone dark.
“Seemed a couple of the parents at her playgroup were anti-vaxxers. Of course, we didn’t know, and it still shouldn’t have been a problem, but one of the kids brought something back from a visit to see Mickey Mouse, and it wasn’t a toy. It was a virus which was passed onto Esme. She was three years old when she caught measles.” His brow creases in remembered pain. “Measles. Such a simple word, yet no one understands just how devastating the complications can be. Esme’s brain swelled. We were warned we could lose her. As it was, we had to watch while she was having convulsion after convulsion. I wouldn’t wish that on any parent. She lived, and I thank God for that every day. But it left her disabled intellectually.” His eyes rise to Demon’s. “You’ve got kids, for heaven’s sake vaccinate them. For the sake of kids like Esme, if not for themselves. Esme was fine before she got ill. After…” he waves his hands as though there are no words to describe it.
Jeez. Never having had kids, I hadn’t come down on one side or the other of the vaccination argument, but hearing Brett? Must admit, I didn’t realise how what I thought was a simple childhood disease could have such disastrous consequences.
My eyes rise to Demon’s who confirms, “Theo has been vaccinated and any other babies we have will also be.”
“What happened didn’t change how we felt about her. She’s everything to me,” Brett says sincerely, challenging us to say Esme’s worth any less than anyone else. “Damn near broke both of us when she went missing. It’s only hope that she was out there somewhere and would be home one day that kept us putting one foot in front of the other. We never gave up searching, even when the police stopped actively looking. We haven’t any other children, not because we’d be taking the same risk, but because we made a conscious decision to ensure she was the centre of our universe. She’s special in so many ways. Happy, chatty…” he stops when he realises she’s not talking now.
“She’s fuckin’ talented. My brother’s currently having one of her drawings painted on his gas tank,” I tell him.
“She can draw,” Brett agrees. He looks from me to Demon. “Art is the way she expresses herself. Is the woman who rescued her here? I’d like to thank her. I owe her so much.”
Prez shakes his head. “No. She wanted to keep moving, she’s worried about Major tracking her down and taking her back with him. She left Esme in our care. We’ve several old ladies here who’ve been caring for her. My wife, for one, as you saw just now.”
“Is Esme in danger from this Major?”
“Not going to lie to you, Brett. Short answer is, I don’t know. Long answer? You got a gun?” When Brett nods, Demon continues, “I’d keep it on you and don’t let Esme out of your sight. Oh, go to the press, get them to print a story a
bout how she’s back. Also, go to the cops. I don’t know what the law is in Arizona, but in Colorado, it’s illegal to tattoo anyone like Esme. That, for a start, with no other evidence, is enough to have them searching for Major. May make him go to ground, or at least make it too hot for him to try and get his hands on her again.”
My fear is that he’ll want his property back. But all we can do is impress on Brett the need to take precautions, and hopefully they’ll be enough. We can’t keep Esme away from her parents, she needs more than we can give her.
Brett’s head is dipping up and down slowly. “I’ll talk to the cops. See about getting her some protection. As you say, making a noise about her return may keep this Major at a distance. I doubt any prosecution will stick, though. Esme, well she’s not a credible witness.”
“We’re not giving up searching for Major.” Something passes between Brett and Demon, acknowledged only by lifts of their chins.
“What about this fucking tattoo on her back?” Brett looks toward me. “Can I get it removed?”
I give him my advice. “It would have to be done professionally. Not by some quack. Will take ten or twelve sessions in my estimation, or she could cover it up. Vi can show you the design she did for Shayla. I know Esme liked that.”
Brett’s head falls into his hands. “I don’t know what’s best to do, but I know I hate it and I’ve not even seen it.” He thinks for a moment. “If I go to the cops, will it cause trouble for your club?”
Demon shakes his head. “They’re welcome to talk to us. We run a legit tattoo parlour; we’ve got nothing to hide. We didn’t touch her tattoo ourselves, so we’re in the clear. But there’s not a lot we can tell them. Our tech guy traced you through public records and the noise you made about Esme on social media.”
“But you didn’t go straight to them to tell them you’d found an underage girl who’s been abused. Fucked up badly enough she refuses to talk.”
Demon leans forward, his hands clasped on the desk in front of him and his eyes flare. “Didn’t know who her parents were, Brett. Could have been some sorry fuckers who sold their own kid. Cops could have passed her back to her family who’d simply give her to the likes of Major, again. No, we couldn’t risk that. Not until we’d checked her home situation out.”
Brett stares at Demon, then huffs, and proves he’s not stupid at all. “The visit from the journalist on a motorcycle? I thought it odd the press was resurrecting the story, but at this point we’d clutch at any straw offered so we talked to him.”
“She’s got a lovely room, I’m told.” Demon smirks.
Esme’s dad is quiet as everything sinks in. “Thank you,” Brett says suddenly, his eyes filling with tears once again. “You did your best, I can see that. Others might just have wanted shot of a disabled girl, but you, you helped her. Thank you on behalf of all the Esme’s out there. I’d like to thank the woman who helped her as well. Between her and you, she’s had some angels watching out for her.”
Not angels, I mentally correct him, or maybe the one. But it’s Devils who been looking over her this past week.
“Just sorry we weren’t there earlier,” replies Demon.
Brett wipes his eyes once more and noisily blows his nose. “This is going to kill Maisie. How the hell do I tell her?”
“She’s got her daughter back,” Demon says confidently. “It’s devastating, I know. But the what-ifs are worse.” He means she had so narrowly escaped being raped and ending up dead or never being found. Not much but he’s right, Brett needs to be grateful for small mercies. “What you’ve both got to do is help Esme get through this. Focus on her. One thing I will say is, she seems resilient.”
Chapter Eighteen
Vanna
“What’s going on?” I ask Mel, when there’s shouting coming from the clubroom.
I’d noticed a young and strangely quiet girl, but assumed she was the daughter or relative of one of the members. But the way she’d left the kitchen with such a look of disbelief and hope on her face made me think it was something more.
When Mel fills me in on her story, I have to find a chair. Mel said no one knew for certain, but they thought she was fourteen or fifteen, and I agree, she didn’t look much older. She’s the same age as Cas.
Boys could be pimped out the same way as girls, I know that of course, but I’d never dreamed I’d have to fear him being taken. Just the thought is unbearable, and Mel has to put a tissue into my hand as I consider it. Cas has been sneaking out at all hours, when he’s staying around his friends, and I’m never quite certain what he gets up to there. What if one day he just never returned? I don’t think I’d be able to bear it.
“They haven’t seen her for more than four months?” When Mel nods, I think what a happy reunion they’ll be having, but then realise that will be tinged with grief. From what I’ve been told, Esme has retained her virginity thank God, but must have lost her innocence and bore witness to the depravity of men. How does a parent cope with that knowledge?
Vi appears in the doorway, one hand on the doorjamb. “Demon’s talking to Esme’s dad, I’m keeping Maisie, her mom, company. Can we have some coffee and some of your muffins if they’re ready, Mel?”
“Yes, I’ll bring them out. I’ve got those cupcakes Esme likes too.”
“Thanks, oh, and Demon’s explaining everything to Esme’s dad. I think he should be the one to update Maisie. She’s just happy that Esme’s safe and well.” Vi gives a sad smile. “Well, I think she’s happy, she’s not been able to stop crying yet.”
At least she’s got her partner to lean on, I think, perhaps a little waspishly. Then want to slap myself around the head. What that poor woman’s going through, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, and she doesn’t even know the worst as yet.
Not wanting to crowd her, Mel and I stay in the kitchen and continue baking. Mel explains that she loves cooking here as the equipment’s much larger than what she and Pyro have in their house.
The men who aren’t working today pop in from time to time and that tub of muffins Mel baked start to disappear. I help her prepare another batch. The simple chores of working alongside her help me come to terms with the words Liz had thrown at me earlier—his justification why Cas could in no way be a son of his. It had hurt. Guess I had my answer about whether he and I had a chance of getting back together. None.
Obeying her instruction, I take Mel’s next batch of muffins out of the oven, acting on autopilot, while thoughts race around my head. There are worse things than being a single mom with a wayward son, as Esme had proved. What if Cas was taken from me? I don’t think I could survive it.
I should be thankful of what I’ve got and accept miracles don’t happen.
So deep in my thoughts, I’m not sure how long it’s been before Esme comes into the kitchen, dragging her mom and dad along.
“Er, we’re going now. Esme wanted to say thank you and goodbye to everyone.”
Mel brushes flour off of her hands. “You got a hug for me, Esme?”
Apparently, she has. And one for me as well, though we’ve not met. Max and Bagel who’ve snuck in and are lying under the table hopefully waiting for crumbs to drop also get hugs and kisses, and Esme gets her face licked by two lolling tongues in return.
“Bitch?”
When Esme asks, Mel covers her mouth. “You spoke,” she comments delightedly.
Esme’s mom’s face has tightened. “Not sure that’s a good first word,” she remarks.
Mel enlightens her. “Inappropriate for certain, but that’s the name of our cat. You want to go find her, sweetie? I think I saw her going up the stairs.
“She’s here, Mel,” Vi calls out, coming in with a wriggling bundle of fur in her arms. The cat seems to settle when Esme reaches out and takes her, and when she nuzzles her face in its fur, it purrs.
Still sniffling and wiping away another tear, Maisie gives a weak grin. “I won’t ask how she got her name.”
Mel rolls her eyes. “Tha
t’s easy. She hates men and scratches them when they go near her. Women she tolerates, kids, for some reason, she loves. Oh, and not dogs…”
Esme’s put the cat down. Bitch gives a loud hiss and arches her back. Immediately Max and Bagel slink away and disappear into the clubroom.
“Well, we’ll be off now. Thank you. Thank you for finding her.” Maisie shrugs as if those are insufficient words. When Esme follows them, Maisie backs out of the kitchen keeping her daughter well in sight.
As she’s still thanking anyone and anybody, Lizard walks over to the bar.
“Nails? Beaver? Amalgamate her fuckin’ money will you? Put it all in one jar.” He then turns to her dad. “Reckon she’s got the makings of a college fund here.”
My eyes widen when I see how many dollars are in the jars. They really do swear a lot.
“Er, what do you want to do with the IOUs, Liz? Half the brothers aren’t here.”
Lizard sighs as he replies to Beaver, “Tally them up and I’ll make good on them. Brothers will owe me instead. I’ll make sure they fuckin’ pay.” His eyes close. With a sigh, he shakes his head, takes out his wallet, and another couple of dollars joins the growing pile.
In the end, the prospects have to use a garbage sack, which Beaver hands to Esme’s dad. When he takes it, I notice the man’s movements are jerky. I take it he’s unsure what to make of the bikers and their generosity.
Then, Esme and her family are gone, and the clubroom falls silent. From the little I’ve heard, that family will have a long way to go before they get back anywhere near normal. Still, Esme going home with them must be a good start. A blind man would have been able to tell how much she is loved.
“I’m going to start making pies to go into the freezer, Vanna. Want to come keep me company?”
“Yeah, Mel…”
Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6 Page 95
