Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6
Page 122
We don’t hesitate. Outside, there are bodies, injured men, but enough live ones still to cause trouble. I load, fire, reload and fire again, emptying my gun time after time. Eventually, I realise I’ve no targets to aim at, or those I can, are standing with raised hands.
Pyro’s already going around disarming them one by one.
“Jeez, move this fuckin’ truck out of the way.” RIP’s voice comes from the front of the compound, the other side of the gates.
I see his face appear, and I hastily jump into the truck and try to back it out onto the road. It takes me a few goes of back and forth before it’s free of the twisted metal.
“Thought you’d like this.” He pushes a man forward with his hand. “Was waiting in a fuckin’ limousine down the road.”
For a moment, none of us move. My eyes go from the man I can’t wait to kill and then back to the Wretched Soulz’ prez.
Demon’s the first to recover from the shock and steps up, his face twisting in distaste. “Major, I presume?”
The man tries to shrug off the men holding him, but Bam Bam’s got him held tight on one side, and Charmer’s got a tight grip on his other arm. Realising he’s no chance of freeing himself, Major stops struggling. As his expression changes from bluff to concern, it’s dawning on him what trouble he’s in. “Look, you can keep the girl. Just let me go. I’ll let you have her and leave your club alone.”
“Keeping the girl anyway,” Demon tells him, lazily.
My ears still ring with the sounds so recently died down, my nostrils breathe in the smell of cordite, but the breeze has luckily blown the tear gas away. I’ll let Demon have his words with Major, then I’ll take him down to the basement, once the girls have been given the all clear and allowed up into the light of day of course. Then I’ll put the basement to the use it was really soundproofed for. I can almost smell the blood I’m about to spill. Major will be screaming for weeks and no one in the clubroom above will be any the wiser as I question him in my own enforcer style. For now, I’ll let him try and bluster his way out of it.
Major’s not put off. “I’ve got money. I’ve got girls, boys, you name it. How about you and I go into partnership? You could run a new arm of the business in Colorado. I’d give you a good—”
Major droops in the arms of the Wretched Soulz holding him, a distant crack sounding momentarily after he does so. Stunned, Bam Bam and Charmer let his body drop to the ground. There’s a perfect round hole in the back of his head, the type of which means there’s no chance of recovery.
What the…?
“What the fuck?” Demon growls, then more loudly, “Who the fuck?” His eyes glare accusingly at the men standing around, then at those still covering us from the top floor of our clubhouse. “Who the fuck did this?” he yells.
“Prez.” I step forward, if possible angrier than him. Seeing Major die in front of me was not good enough. Too quick, too merciful. He should have died by my hands. “The shot must have come from outside the compound.” I turn and indicate the wide-open gates.
“Sure did,” Charmer confirms, shading his eyes and looking into the far distance behind him. “There, look? See that glint?”
Now I see where he’s pointing. It could be the glint off a windshield or window as it appears to be moving. There’s not a chance in hell of us getting close to intercept it, whatever it is, is driving off-road and fast getting away.
“You got a sniper I don’t know about?” Prez accuses his counterpart, RIP.
RIP, turns and gives a disdainful stare at Prez. “If I did, I’d be fuckin’ proud of him for such an accurate shot at that distance, but no, I can’t take credit for this.”
“Could Major have set himself up?” I ask, wonderingly. “Rather be dead than captured?”
“Makes no fuckin’ sense.” RIP is right, it doesn’t.
“He’s dead.” Demon seems to have realised he won’t be able to question him. “Which is the outcome I wanted, though I’d rather have drawn it out.” Him and me both.
“Prez?” Pyro gets his attention. “We’ve got ten bodies out back. Six here in the front, plus injured and captured. What are we going to do about them?”
“You got a burial ground?” RIP asks.
“That’s a fuckin’ lot to bury,” says Charmer.
“Rusty wants to know if he can get Bomber to the hospital?”
“Yeah, Judge. Tell him to go now.”
Fuck. I hope Bomber’s going to make it. Can’t imagine what Jeannie would do if her man was taken from her.
RIP, chewing on a piece of grass, looks thoughtful. “Don’t know how you’re set here, but you take a gunshot wound into the hospital, cops would use it as an excuse to come to my club.”
Demon nods slowly. Chances are they’d use it as an excuse to visit us.
“Shame we can’t heat the furnace and burn the bodies in there. If it could melt half a train, then a few bodies should burn up okay.”
I turn to look at the VP, at the same time as Charmer says seriously, “You’d have to heat it to fourteen hundred degrees Fahrenheit. You able to do that?”
At that moment, Rusty and Judge drive up in a truck. “Managed to get Bomber in the back,” Rusty calls out of the window. I notice he’s looking grave and drawn. Bomber and he go back nearly forty years.
“How is he?” Demon asks, leaning in the window. “Hi, Jeannie, love, you okay?”
Rusty makes a see-saw motion with his hands. “I’ve tried to stem the bleeding, not much else I can do.”
“Just get to the hospital fast,” comes Jeannie’s voice.
We all step back so they can drive through the gap which once held our gates.
“So,” RIP reminds us. “Bodies…?”
“Get them in a truck. One of theirs preferably. I’ll get the prospects to drive them out. Can’t think what else to do with them but put them in the ground.”
“Need help? I’ve got prospects could do with some practice.”
That’s an offer from the Wretched Soulz that we’re not going to turn down.
Chapter Fifty
Lizard
“So who killed him?” Vanna asks, shaking her head and reaching for her glass of wine.
It’s a question we’ve all been asking. The most logical conclusion is someone wanted Major out of the way as badly as we did ourselves. But there’s also the notion that Major had information someone didn’t want him sharing. I know Mace felt cheated that he hadn’t been able to question him.
I’d given a shrug as my answer to Vanna, there was nothing else I could tell her, nor had been able to for the past couple of days since it had happened. We’re all wondering exactly the same thing. Cad had tried to reconnect with his contact on the dark web, but he’d done a disappearing act, and Cad couldn’t locate him again.
Gradually things are returning to normal. We had, indeed, had a visit from the police checking on the story that Bomber had somehow accidentally shot himself in the side, awkward as fuck, but that was what we were all going with. By the time they’d arrived, with assistance from the Wretched Soulz’ prospects, the bodies had been loaded and taken away, and a pressure washer had removed most of the blood. Without a warrant, they couldn’t search further and luckily hadn’t checked on the rear line of our property which looked like a war zone.
We’d been outnumbered but had come out the victors. The mercenaries Major had employed had given up once their paymaster was dead. Mace got his way and was able to question a couple of those uninjured, but both told him the same. They were in it for the pay and had no allegiance. No personal beef with us, and no reason to come for us again. They’d all joined up individually, so no prior friendships or loyalty between them.
Interestingly, Major was paying them in cash, and the money was found in his limousine. The numbers to share it had reduced dramatically, so while we took half for our damages, the men left alive agreed to take their own injured away as they’d each taken a bounty greater than expected.
A couple had grudgingly admitted they’d no idea what they’d be walking into that day, having been told it was a simple extraction from men unprepared and who had no idea the mercenaries were headed our way. That we were a bunch of wannabe bikers who, when not riding our bikes, sat around drinking and fucking all day. They hadn’t expected to come up against experienced men armed and prepared to put their lives on the line for their club.
I was happy to see the last of them, which coincided with the news that Bomber was awake, grumpy and having been sewn up and given blood to replace that which he’d lost, would make a full recovery.
“Dad? I like this one.”
I look down when he passes me his tablet. “Huh. Well think again. That’s a little out of our price range.” Way out of it, truth be told. Little shit has just shown me a house with an indoor pool and a gym.
“That one’s more like it.” Vanna, leaning over me, is scrolling down the page.
Yeah, a modest house with four bedrooms and seems in a good neighbourhood. Vanna wanted three, but I pushed her to look for something larger, wanting to fulfil her dream of having a big family.
“It’s okay,” Cas says sullenly. I presume he’s noticed it doesn’t have a pool.
“I’ll make arrangements for us to go and see it.” I stand, stretch, and take my phone out of my pocket.
“Liz?” I pause and turn around at my wife’s voice who’s staring down at her tablet. “Lindy’s emailed. She wants to come visit. Says she wants to see Cas with her own eyes to make sure he’s okay. Is it alright if she comes this weekend?”
Vanna’s friend had been beside herself when Cas went missing. We were a bit vague about where he’d been, but Vanna had come up with something to calm her. There’s no doubt she’s been a good friend to my wife, so I can’t see a visit would be a problem, I’ve not met the woman myself, but feel I should thank her. Not only had she let Cas stay, she’d been Vanna’s support ever since she’d moved to Denver.
“Yeah, I’ll have to run it past Demon, but it should be fine.”
Her wide smile shows it was the right answer. I continue my interrupted journey out of the noisy clubroom.
As I walk out into the warmth of the summer’s day, I stare before making my phone call. We’ve already got a new reinforced gate on the way, and the prospects have shored up the old one the best that they can.
I’m a lucky bastard, things could so easily have gone differently. This club is my life and family, but if my wife and kid hadn’t fitted in as they have, I’d have given it all up and moved to Denver. That they wanted to stay has made my life perfect. I’ll miss living at the club but can’t wait to make a new start in our new home with Vanna, even though it means I’ll have to deal with Cas every day.
He’s easy to love, but a lot of the time he has me wanting to pull my slowly growing-back hair out. Babies grow into teenagers, I remind myself, and here I am planning more.
Idly, I wonder whether Cas would have turned out anything other than the Devil’s spawn if I’d been there to shape him growing up. I scoff at myself, no fucking chance. Although I’d like to deny it, he reminds me of my much younger self, or what I would have been had I been brought up by a loving mom. I’d have bucked the rules too, hell, being a biker, I’m constantly holding up my middle finger to the world. I may not have had a hand in his upbringing, but he’s so like me it’s uncanny.
He’s now talking about joining the Marines when he’s old enough, and I’m not sure how I feel about that, knowing only too well how dangerous it is. Fuck, the injury I suffered had affected three lives—mine, his and his mother’s. Part of me wonders whether he’s seeking revenge on the enemy that caused my injury, but it wouldn’t be the same war he’d be fighting.
He’s already taken another man’s life, but though I’ve been watching him carefully, he seems to have compartmentalised that. It was a desperate but necessary action. Had he not done what he had, I might have lost him forever. I shudder just thinking about it.
I came out here for a reason, I remind myself. To take that first step into our future and do something I’d never thought about before I had Vanna back in my life. To buy a house with my wife, move her and my son into it, and hopefully add more kids into the mix.
I’m Lizard, otherwise known as Norton James. I’m thirty-eight years old and I ride with the Satan’s Devils MC. I’m a tattoo artist… or will be, if I get the full use of my hand back—no one wants a tattoo artist whose hand shakes, but as it’s improving every day, I’ve every hope of getting there eventually.
I repeat my mantra which I haven’t thought about for weeks. Vanna’s not worried about my brain playing tricks on me, so why the fuck should I? But I add something that I’ll always want to remember. I’m a happily married family man.
Chapter Fifty-One
Mace
I glance down at the woman lying beside me, trustingly resting her head on my shoulder. Her mouth is open and she’s snoring gently. I grin, knowing she’d refuse to believe me if I told her. Apparently, women don’t snore or fart. I suppress a snort, knowing it’s a lie on both counts.
I never thought I’d find someone I wanted to settle down with, but now can’t understand how I ever thought I was contented with the club girls. Each time Shayla and I fuck, it gets better to the point I’ll be satisfied with just her for life.
It’s been a week now since the death of Major was taken out of my hands, my only regret is that I couldn’t make him hurt and give him a death which was prolonged and painful. That one bullet to the head had been so much more than he deserved.
Shayla grunts softly and snuggles closer into me, as trusting in sleep as she is awake. She knows I’ll never hurt her and would die before I let anything harm her.
I think about the meeting last night in church.
“I got a phone call from Red earlier,” Demon had told us. “Big news story down in Vegas. Women and boys had been found held captive in a mansion. They’d been pimped out and used against their will. Each one branded with a tattoo. Everything points to it having been Major’s operation that had been brought down, though the police haven’t made his name public. Rope, Cuff, and Twister identified it was their contacts who’d been arrested.”
I breathed out. “Thank fuck.” There was always the possibility Major could have been taken out to prevent that happening so a partner could continue the business. Major was killed before he spilled the details of his operation.
“It appears whoever killed Major knew he could die with his info intact, as they had it anyway. Or that’s what Red and I surmise. Police got a firm tip-off and they followed up with a raid. Twenty women and four young boys who’d been forced into sexual servitude now saved and given a new chance in life.”
Sounds simple, but if they’re damaged like Shayla, I could only hope they’re getting the support that they need.
We’d discussed it for a bit longer, but it was the ending of a chapter. Major’s dead, his operation in tatters. Of course, someone else would undoubtably step up and take his place. Where there were men willing to pay to feed their depraved appetites, someone will step up and provide what they wanted. But the player who’d come into our lives is gone. He’s now dead, buried and rotting out in the desert.
“Any other business?”
I raised my hand. “Prez, I want to put something on the table.” At his nod, I’d continued, “Our bylaws state all old ladies should get a property patch tattoo. I propose we remove that rule.” I pause and grimace. “After what happened to Shayla, my view of property patches has become tainted. Shay’s my woman, but I don’t need my name on her to know that I own her, and she doesn’t want hers on me.”
“Agreed,” Beef said fast. “Never got around to putting mine on Steph. She’s not keen on
the idea of tattoos. Tucson got rid of that requirement years back.”
For some reason, everyone looked down the table at Hellfire. He’d thought for a moment, then shrugged. “The regulation was there from the time the club was started, pre-dated even my time at the table. I was a prospect then and not part of the decision making.”
“The club was wilder and more likely to go head-to-head with our enemies, and other clubs tended to take something that wasn’t owned. I agree, now, there’s little need for it.” Bomber shifted a little, trying to get comfortable. We’d already agreed not to prolong this session as it was the day he’d been let out of the hospital. He’d insisted on coming to church, fucker didn’t want to miss anything.
“I’m okay with removing the tattoo requirement, but old ladies would still need to wear their ‘Property of’ cuts though.” Demon sounded adamant. “It’s protection if someone’s sniffing around. Not taking a woman who looks unclaimed to a different chapter, or when the Wretched Soulz are around. A property cut saves a lot of time and argument.”
“That’s a choice though, isn’t it?” offered Pal. “Why not leave it up to the couple to decide what’s best for them?”
Demon stared at him for a moment. “Ok. Let’s vote on it.”
The vote passed. The regulation was removed. I, for one, was very happy with that outcome.
I reach for my phone and notice the time.
“Hey, sleepyhead. Time to get moving.”
She moans, coming awake slowly. I roll my body on top of hers, plant a quick kiss on her lips, then slide down under the covers.
“Mace!” Her voice is less sleepy, and her hands try to grip my short hair as I start eating her pussy.
When she comes, I move up the bed, my cock finding her cunt immediately. Now fully awake, she clutches at me.
It’s a quickie as we’ve things we need to be doing, but no less satisfying than any other time I’ve fucked her. While I’ve just had a release, I’m sure my cock will be hard as iron once she’s seated behind me on my bike. It’s just the effect she has on me, and I know being close to me will have the same effect on her. But as soon as we reach Albuquerque, I’ll find a motel and take her to bed.