Which, of course, is exactly what happens.
The next day we arrive at Flagstaff, and I use the GPS to find the house we need. Neither of us are certain of our welcome. From the parents, I know we’ll get a warm one—they’d extended an invitation as soon as I mentioned it—but neither of us are certain whether Esme will remember us, or whether seeing us again will cause her problems as the sight of Shayla might hold bad connotations for her.
I needn’t have worried. Esme flies out of the house as soon as I cut the engine and launches herself into Shayla’s arms.
“You came! Mommy and Daddy told me you would. You came!”
Her voice is strong and steady, and absolute music to my ears. It’s how I always imagined it would be, more childlike than that of a teenage girls’.
“How are you Esme?”
“Good.” She turns to me and holds out her arms. “Mace!”
“Hi, sweetie.” I pick her up and swing her around. “We came to show something to you.” I’m as eager as a kid myself as I put her down, leaving my arm around her, and turn her to face my bike. “Look.”
Any thoughts that she wouldn’t remember are blown away when her eyes open wide as they settle on the rearing stallion that she’d drawn, and Ink had painted on my bike.
“It’s my picture!” She points to it, her hand covering her mouth, then looking up at me with wide eyes. “My picture’s on your bike!”
“Come in and freshen up. I’m sure you’ve had a long journey. I don’t know what you liked, but I’ve been doing some cooking.”
So taken up with Esme’s reaction to my bike, I hadn’t noticed her parents coming outside, but should have guessed they would be right behind her. I turn to give them chin lifts now.
“You didn’t have to go to any trouble for us,” Shayla tells Esme’s mother.
It’s when Brett, her father is staring at Shayla, I realise the two had never actually met. He’s got tears in his eyes as he hesitantly steps forward to her.
“Ms Yonovich, I’m, we’re, so pleased to meet you at last. And nothing, nothing is too much trouble for the people who brought Esme back to us.”
“Call me Shayla, please.” Shay reaches out, takes his hand and squeezes it. “I’m just so pleased I got her out.”
He looks like he’s going to break down, so I quickly ask, “How’s Esme doing?”
Brett slowly takes his eyes away from the woman who sacrificed so much to rescue his daughter and ruffles Esme’s hair. “Esme’s doing fine, aren’t you?”
“Daddy, look at Mace’s bike.” Proudly she points to my gas tank.
“I can see, sweetheart. You draw that?”
She nods so hard I think she’s in danger of her head falling off.
Maisie calls us to follow her inside, where she’s prepared a feast fit for a king, far more than we’d ever be able to eat.
Just as we’re remarking on it, a man appears. I’ve never met him before in my life, but I immediately know all about him.
“Uncle Paul!” Esme runs over and hugs the tall, well-built and rough-looking man, while wary eyes return my scrutiny.
“Army,” I tell him, answering his unspoken question.
He smirks. “Navy. Retired.”
Brett explains, “Paul’s been living with us. He’s a firefighter. His teammates and cops that he knows have been taking turns making sure Esme’s kept safe.”
Now I can better understand why Brett thought he was able to protect his daughter with the likes of him around.
Paul, it turns out, is Maisie’s brother and a beloved uncle. I update him and Brett with the headlines, not going into details, but letting them know Major’s no longer a threat. Esme pouts when hearing her Uncle Paul is now going to be moving out.
It’s an enjoyable visit, and we stay longer than I’d expected, Esme wanting to show Shayla her room which is painted pink and decorated with unicorns. In pride of place on her bed is a shaggy dog toy, the colour of a bagel and, unsurprisingly, called Bagel. A toy cat, less torn and tattered lies alongside it. When Esme opens her mouth to tell me its name, I hold my breath until she says she’s called Bitsy.
“We’re getting a puppy,” Maisie tells us, grinning at our reaction to the cat’s name. “We’re getting it trained as a support dog for Esme. She’s already named it.”
“Max,” Shayla and I say together, then both of us laugh.
A dog is a good idea. While on the surface Esme seems happy and settled, I’m sure she can’t be totally unscathed by her experience, which her father confirms when he confides she never lets go of his hand when they go out. I suspect it’s half and half though, and that he doesn’t want to let go of hers.
She’s lucky she’s got a loving family, as what she is now is about where she’ll ever get to. She won’t get her GED or be able to work. But he confides they’re looking into where her talent at art might take her.
I ask him about her tattoo. It’s a sore subject.
He grimaces and drags his hands through his hair. “It bothers me, it bothers Maisie, it’s there as a permanent reminder. But the one person it doesn’t bother is her. Esme’s not really aware of it as she doesn’t see it like we do. Laser treatment might be painful, another tattoo would hurt. What good would it do her to put her through something just to make us feel easier?”
He’s got a point. I raise my chin to show I can see it.
His hands tighten until they form fists. “For now, we’ll leave it alone. It’s a reminder of how we nearly lost her, and how precious she is to us. Maybe in time, when she’s older, we’ll rethink and get it covered, but for now? I’m not going to hurt her.”
We leave with promises to visit again and turn down offers of money, neither of us wanted payment for doing something any halfway decent person would do.
Then, it already being early evening, I suggest we find a motel and head back to Albuquerque in the morning. With Shayla and my bike with me, I’ve all that I need.
We find a suitable place where we can park right outside, and I present the key card to the lock which turns green immediately. Then, once inside, I throw the saddlebags down on the bed.
“She’s doing well.”
“She is,” I agree.
Shayla shudders. “What if I had failed, Mace? What if I hadn’t been able to escape with her? What if Major had found us?”
I wrap my arms around her, holding her face to my chest. I knew seeing Esme would bring everything back to her. I’d had to weigh the benefits of her being satisfied that the girl she rescued was being well cared for with the downside of it dredging up memories of her time as a captive and what she’d had to do to survive after.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I want to marry you. I want to settle down, get a house, have a family with you if that’s what you want too.”
She looks up, wipes away tears, and her eyes open wide. “Marry me? Are you actually asking me?”
“If you’re ready to hear it as a question, then yes. But I’m willing to give you all the time you need before I come looking for your answer. Thing is, Shayla, there I was, a single man, fulfilled that way until you stormed into my life and upset everything. I thought my life satisfied me, never knew there was a piece of me missing, until you showed me there was. I was content, but not happy. I thought I wanted to be single, but that was because I was waiting for you. I want everything with you, Shayla. I just fucking hope it’s what you want too.” If she doesn’t, I’d be lost, cast adrift with no anchor.
“I wish you hadn’t gone through what you had to, to get to me, baby. I’d never wish that on anyone, and it hurts to know it happened to you. But we’d never have found each other if you hadn’t.”
It’s only now she speaks. “We met because I wanted to get rid of his tattoo.”
“Which is gone now.” Vi did the last session last week. An intricate bouquet of flowers now covers his name, with a rainbow background. It’s beautiful, something good from the bad.
She’s still
staring up at me. “I would never have found you. I can’t say it was worth it, nothing is worth the suffering I incurred, and you know that I’m still working through it. But if you’re willing to take me with all the baggage I carry, then one day I’m pretty sure I’m going to give you the answer you’re looking for. It’s just, right now, I’m not ready to.”
I kiss her gently, then raising my mouth from her soft luscious lips, smile. “I know, and that’s fine with me. Just wanted to let you know where I stood, baby. That nothing about your past bothers me, except that you had to live it. When you are ready, just know, I’ll be here, waiting for you.” In the meantime, she’ll be in my bed, in my life, and fuck it, working alongside me too.
Her hands come to rest either side of my head, and for the first time I hear her tell me, “Mace, I love you.”
Epilogue
“I saw their faces through my sight.” I grin. “They were not happy.” That is an understatement—shocked, confused, and furious.
“Stormy,” he admonishes lightly, “you could have left it to them.”
“Nah, Pip. I did what I needed to do. Couldn’t risk that motherfucker getting free.”
He raises his whisky, takes a sip, then asks, “You think he might have cut a deal with them?”
I shake my head, putting my beer bottle to my mouth and swallowing. “Who knows what people will do if the price is right?”
Pip snorts. “You don’t trust many people, do you?”
“Nah,” I agree. “I trust me and my rifle. Oh, and you.”
“Then I’m honoured.” He grins. “Oh, and I have another job for you.”
“Someone else in the same business?”
“Trafficking this time.” He chucks a folder across to me.
Opening it, I skim through it. “Ah,” I exclaim after a moment. “This will have me crossing state boundaries again.”
“Why do you think I’ve given it to you, Stormy? You’re a loner, you get itchy feet staying in one place too long.”
“And I live to remove scum from this earth.”
“That you do.” He chuckles softly. “Wish I could have seen their faces when Major hit the ground. They have no fuckin’ idea who took him out. Their mysterious contact has disappeared as well.”
Giving him a sheepish look. “Sorry about that.”
“Fuckin’ schoolboy error, forgetting to cloak your IP address.”
“It won’t happen again,” I promise.
“See that it doesn’t.”
“I know the score, Pip. What we do only works if we keep underground.”
Acknowledgments
This book is dedicated to David ‘Stormy’ Haill for good reason.
A week before his eighty-fifth birthday, my father-in-law collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. By the time he arrived, he was unconscious. The doctors diagnosed a massive bleed in his brain, one from which he’d never recover. They offered no treatment whatsoever, not even a saline drip, and put him in a side room to die.
The close family assembled and stayed vigil at his bedside all night, waiting for him to pass. He was still breathing the next morning, but in a coma state.
That day, family assembled from far and wide, and as Dad was so close to death, the hospital didn’t limit the number of visitors. A pattern developed. A new person would enter, pay their sad respects, but then see someone they hadn’t seen for possibly years, and started catching up with each other’s lives. As well as tears, there was laughter as anecdotes were shared, everyone had a funny story to tell. As the hours passed, people grew hungry, so teas and coffees arrived, and a table was commandeered to hold buffet food. There were up to twenty people at one time in the room.
Still Dad breathed on.
Night came, most said their last goodbyes, and left, now as sad as when they had arrived, as they left Dad for what they thought was the last time. His wife, of over sixty years with a card from the Queen to prove it, of course, stayed.
I had arranged to go visit him with my son the next lunchtime, but didn’t expect to have to make the drive to the hospital. I certainly didn’t expect the call mid-morning to say he was awake. His awakening kicked the doctors into action, he’d been without sustenance or fluids for two days.
His recovery was slow, he needed to be transferred to another hospital for a brain operation to stem another, smaller, bleed. When he first came around, he couldn’t recognise anybody or talk. But slowly his brain began to mend.
Six weeks after he entered the hospital unconscious, and against doctors’ expectations, he came home. Our medical miracle.
He’s now one of my biggest fans and reads all my books. At the time of writing, he’s approaching his eighty-ninth birthday and I hope he has many more.
Dad proved the impossible was possible. Mind you, we all think he woke up as he was annoyed he was missing out on the party we’d had in his room that first day. Or, it could show the power of hope and prayer.
Many years ago, I studied psychology, my course concentrated on how the brain worked. I was fascinated by memory. My son has also gained his degree in psychology much more recently. So I talked through any latest research with him, as well as doing reading online. It seems we’re no further forward than we were forty years ago, theories come and go about memory, then someone’s experience shows something else.
What happened to Lizard in Devil’s Spawn is fanciful and based on no actual case study. But my research showed it wasn’t impossible. What is fact is that there is a link between a serious brain injury and a tumour appearing later in life, some benign, some not so. There have also been instances when people who’ve forgotten their identity begin to remember who they are many years later.
So I’ve taken poetic licence to bring you this story, and I hope it’s given you an enjoyable read. That, after all, is the point of fiction.
Now on to the thank yous. Thank you, Dad, first and foremost for being the inspiration for this story. I’m also nicking your Navy name for a character as, if you’ve reached the end, you’ll already know. We’ll be reading more about Stormy in later books.
Thank you, Michael, for letting me bounce ideas off of you. Love discussing my books with you and getting your insight. I am privileged to be your mum.
Thank you to my beta readers, and the comments elicited from you. You didn’t wait for the end but messaged saying ‘I didn’t expect that!’ while reading the story, which is the exact reaction I was looking for. Thank you, Tami, for checking the location details. Thank you to Danena and Sheri as always, and to Zoe, Alex and a new beta, Emma. I hoped this book would hit the spot, and according to you, it did.
Thank you to my cover designer, Dar of Wicked Smart Designs. I love what you did with the image I sent you and love how responsive you are. I’m really enjoying working with you.
Mary, my soul sister and editor. What can I say that hasn’t already been said? When I said Devil’s Spawn was too long, what did you say? That it needed two more chapters. You were right, even if it means this is the longest Satan’s Devils’ book to date. But this time, at least, I didn’t set out to write a novella. Loved your insight and comments as normal.
Thanks again to Melanie for the quick turnaround on the proofreading. Love that you’re part of my team now.
Last but not least, thank you to all my readers, old and new, who take a chance on my books. I’m always happy to talk about my stories, so if you’ve got questions or just want to connect, please do so via Messenger or email. I appreciate any and all reviews left and read every one. Reviews raise the profile of an author, so even one sentence is valuable.
You can keep in touch with what I’m up to in a number of ways. Follow me on social media or sign up for my newsletter.
There are exciting things coming in the future. The next book will take us to San Diego and reconnect with Lost and Dart, the prez and VP in southern California. That will set us up for Road Tripped, which will include a brief return to Tucson. I’m also planning a
further Second Generation book. Have I finished with the Colorado chapter? Probably not. And what about Red and his boys in Vegas? I wish I could write faster, as I’ve lots of ideas in my head.
I better get back to writing now else there won’t be any more books.
Love, as always,
Manda
Other Works by Manda Mellett
Blood Brothers – A series about sexy dominant sheikhs and their bodyguards
Stolen Lives (#1) Nijad and Cara
Close Protection (#2) Jon and Mia
Second Chances (#3) Kadar and Zoe
Identity Crisis (#4) Sean and Vanessa
Dark Horses (#5) Jasim and Janna
Hard Choices (#6) Aiza
Satan’s Devils MC - Arizona Chapter
Turning Wheels (Blood Brothers #3.5, Satan’s Devils #1) Wraith and Sophie
Drummer’s Beat (#2) Drummer and Sam
Slick Running (#3) Slick and Ella
Targeting Dart (#4) Dart and Alex
Heart Broken (#5) Heart and Marc
Peg’s Stand (#6) Peg and Darcy
Rock Bottom (#7) Rock and Becca
Joker’s Fool (#8) Joker and Lady
Mouse Trapped (#9) Mouse and Mariana
Blade’s Edge (#10) Blade and Tash
Heart Mended: A Satan’s Devils MC Novella
Truck Stopped (#11) Truck & Allie
Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1 Books 1-5
Satan’s Devils MC Boxset 2 Books 6-8
Satan’s Devils MC Boxset 3 Books 9-11
Satan’s Devils MC - Colorado Chapter
Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6 Page 123
