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Slick Running (Satan's Devils #3) (Satan's Devils MC) by Manda Mellett (8)

Chapter 7

Slick

What Ella calls home hasn’t changed at all since the first time I saw it. If anything it’s become even more of a pigsty. The air is tainted with sweat and other loathsome odours of the obnoxious male I just had the pleasure of chucking out of here. Fuck Drummer for making me come. At least taking out some of my rage on the man I expelled has taken the edge off my anger.

When I’d seen him with Ella I was surprised to see how low her tastes had fallen. Bikers aren’t high up on anyone’s scale, but that man was pure scum. Then I was taken aback by the relief that swept through me when I found she wasn’t his, and again by my fury when he dared lay his hands on her. To be honest, he’s lucky he left here walking. For a second or two there I thought I’d be calling the club and requesting help with a clean-up. But something in her frightened eyes had tempered my reaction. It wasn’t that she was scared for him, but on some level for me, and I’d managed just in time to tame my most violent instincts. He’d gotten off lightly. But if he ever came back? All gloves would be off.

I’d thought it was over, the man who was bothering her gone from her life. Her problem resolved and I was free to get as far away from here as possible. And then I wished he was still in the room so I had a target for my temper when I realised she wasn’t going to let me leave. Let me go, Ella. Just let me fuckin’ go.

The room’s small, a kitchenette off to one side. Once my eyes have roamed all around they’re drawn back to the woman in front of me. The girl who now I notice seems a shadow of her former self. She’s pale, her cheeks flushed, her breathing is quickening, and she’s trembling. She’s scared. Even though I’d removed the immediate threat, she hasn’t relaxed at all. Perhaps she should be afraid. She’s done nothing to make me feel friendly toward her. She made me hate her. But that hatred was far easier to maintain when she wasn’t standing so close. Fuck it, Drum, why did you make me come here today?

Reacting to her physical symptoms, I gentle my voice and go to the sagging couch. “Look, darlin’, let’s sit down and you can tell me what the problem is.” Seating myself, I prop my elbows on my knees and, after patting the not very clean cushion next to me, rest my chin on my clasped hands. Sitting here reminds me of the first time I met her, and for a moment I wonder, had I known what I was sending her into would I still have asked her to work for the club? If she’d refused, would I have walked out of this house, out of her life, and never returned? There’s not much point thinking about what might have been. It’s done and dusted. And we both came out losers. For the first time in months I feel a slight easing of the storm raging inside, a crack in the walls I’d built up to keep her out.

Her eyes are wide, her pupils dilated, but she pulls herself up straight and I see some of the backbone she’d originally shown when, clearly reluctant, she comes and sits at the other end of the couch. As it’s only a two-seater and long since lost any springiness it might have had, our combined weights cause it to dip, and her body slips toward mine. Unable to keep my distance, without thinking I unclasp my hands and wrap my fingers around one of hers.

“Speak to me, Ella.”

A little frightened glance in my direction, and though it trembles and she tries to pull away, when I grip it tighter she finally relents and lets me keep hold of her hand. I give it a squeeze in encouragement.

My attention is drawn to her slender neck when she swallows a couple of times, then, at last, she starts to speak.

“It’s my sister. Jayden.”

I sharpen my eyes, unaware she had family. We hadn’t spoken about it before. Mind you, we hadn’t talked much about anything. And perhaps our lack of communication had been part of the problem. “Your sister?” I prompt.

“Yeah. She’s only fourteen and lives with my mom.” She shakes her head. “My mom’s a piece of work. Wrapped up in herself and in her new man.”

Knowing Ella has to be some years older than her sister I ask, “She your full sister?”

“Yes. She was an accident. She’s nine years younger than me. Guess Mom got careless.” She gives another one of her half-smiles. “Mom never wanted her, but then, she didn’t really want me either. She’s not got much of a maternal instinct.” She pauses and clears her throat. “I’ve tried talking to her, but she’s blind to, or not bothered about what’s going on with her younger daughter.”

“And what is goin’ on?”

She looks down at our joined hands as though only just noticing I am still holding on. “There’s something wrong. She’s only fourteen, Slick, but I think she’s seeing an older man.”

“You want I should go talk to him?” That would be easy enough.

Another shake of her head. “I don’t think it’s as simple as that.” She pulls away from my touch, stands, and walks to the window. When she turns around her arms are clasped around her body. “She used to be so vibrant and happy. She’s a pretty girl, but now she’s lost her sparkle. There’s something up, but I don’t know what.”

“You tried talkin’ to her?”

Her head jerks. “Yeah, of course I have. Despite the age difference we used to be close, not so much now. In many ways, I’ve been more like a mom to her, making sure she has everything she needs for school, taking her shopping for clothes, stuff like that.” She purses her lips and then starts speaking faster, the words tumbling out one after another. “I went around there last week, she had a new iPad. She was wearing new clothes, one’s Mom couldn’t afford. There’s no way they came from Walmart.”

“Someone’s buyin’ her stuff,” I surmise. “Did you ask who?”

“She clammed up and wouldn’t tell me. Tried to hide the iPad when she noticed I’d seen it. Slick, she’s not happy, her eyes, they look dead. She’s not my happy little sister anymore, something’s very wrong.” She comes back and sits on the couch, her body angled so she can look at me. “Slick, I want to find out who she’s seeing, who’s buying her these things, and who’s leeching the life out of her.” She looks down for a moment, “I’ve tried following her, but she got picked up in a car and I haven’t got transport as Tilly had taken hers that day. I waited for her to come home, she stayed out all night.”

“What did your mom say?”

“She shrugged it off. Said she often stays round a girlfriend’s, doing homework together.”

“But you don’t buy that?”

“No. I asked Mom where she was getting her money from. She didn’t care. I think she knows something’s up, but it’s easier if she doesn’t admit it.” Biting her lip, she raises her eyes to meet mine. “I wondered if there’s some way your computer guy, Mouse, could help find out where she’s going. Find out who she’s seeing?”

A fourteen-year-old kid. And presumably an older man buying expensive gifts for her, no kid her own age would be able to afford iPads and the like. Who’s not making her happy. I start to see why she’s worried. Mouse might be able to help her. Or perhaps we can put a prospect on her, to follow her and find out where she goes.

“She’s unhappy, Slick. And I don’t know why. I’m worried sick.”

“Can’t you just confront her?”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” she cries. “I’ve talked calmly to her. I’ve tried to reason with her. I’ve yelled at her. But she won’t give me a thing.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I think she’s scared. She tries to act as normal, but it’s like she’s forgotten how to be a young girl.”

“I’ll take it back to the club.” It doesn’t sound like it would be too much to ask, and as Drum reminded me, whatever wrong she did me, she did an enormous favour for the club. One that ended up getting her hurt. “I think we’ll be able to help you, but I’ve got to run it by the prez.” I offer a small smile. “Hopefully it will just be that she’s grown into a normal teenager. Sullen and sulkin’…”

“I’ve thought about that. But the new things she has…”

Ella probably wasn’t brought up the same way as me, so I don’t bother suggesting Jayden might have been stealing. And that’s another option we’ll have to explore, and perhaps knock her life of crime on the head before she gets caught.

“Don’t worry, Ella. I’m sure Prez will agree to look into it.”

“Thank you, Slick. I just didn’t know what else to do.” She lets out a sigh of heartfelt relief that at last she’s got someone on her side.

I turn and look at her. Really look at her. The way she described her sister, well, the description fits her too. Her eyes are clouded, her face pinched, her hair neglected. Once reaching down to her ass and shining, it’s been chopped off—and clearly not by a hairdresser—and is ragged and lifeless, the stunning auburn colour now dull. She looks like she’s given up. Another crack in the wall as I gaze at my old lady. The woman I’d claimed in front of my club. The woman who left me before I even had the chance to know her. She’d been the only woman I’ve ever thought I could love, and she’d thrown it back in my face.

I’d ridden up to her door with such a feeling of loathing, detesting the very thought of seeing her again. But seeing her this way, looking so broken, it’s difficult to maintain the animosity inside.

Putting my hand to her chin, I raise her face, noticing she immediately pulls away. Ignoring her reaction, I continue with my question. “How you doing, Ella? How you doing, really?” I point to her ribs. “Are you all healed up?” Grasping she’s uneasy with me touching her, I drop my hand.

She swallows before answering, and her eyes flick away, already alerting me that I’m going to hear a lie. “I’m fine, Slick. I’m just worried about Jayden.”

Something tells me what’s bothering her is another matter entirely. Sure, she’s worried about her sister, but this decline hasn’t come in a few days. But why the fuck should I care? She’d walked out and left me. She’s not my responsibility anymore.

I stand and grab my sunglasses and gloves from where I left them on the side by the door. “I’ll go back to the club, bring your problem to the table. I’ll let you know what they say.”

She remains on the couch but looks up with a nod. “Thank you, Slick.”

Then, at last, I’m able to walk out and leave her.

Fuck! I shouldn’t want to help her, shouldn’t have this desire to put a full smile back on her face. But for some reason I do. She’d killed my feelings for her stone fucking dead. But I can see that she’s hurting, and while I don’t understand the extent to which it’s bothering me, I can’t bear to see her looking so lost.

When I get back to the compound several of the brothers are already milling around the bar. At my approach, Marsh waves a beer in my direction and I take it with a nod. Drum breaks off his conversation and comes across, his eyes searching my face. He knows full well where I’d been and who I’d been seeing. After we’d done what we could at the accident site, I’d peeled off to ride into Tucson and left him and Blade to turn toward home.

“How did it go?”

I shrug. “We havin’ a meetin’?” At his nod, I continue, “I’ll tell everyone there.” Saves me going through the whole thing twice.

“Somethin’ we need to get involved with?”

“Prez, I’m not really sure. Maybe.”

“She did a lot for this club. Couldn’t have taken down the Rock Demons without the info we got.”

I nod in agreement, starting to wonder at just how much she’d sacrificed in order to help us. And whether there are still things I don’t know. A picture of a woman so clearly damaged comes into my head. Did we, I, do that to her?

It seems Drummer had been waiting for my return, as I’ve barely emptied the bottle when he calls us all in. We take our seats, and as I wipe my hands over my face and look at my brothers it hits me what a long fucking day this has been. I’m dead on my feet, and I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone else was in the same boat.

The prez calls us to order then starts his update. “Blade, Slick, and me, well we’ve been to the site.” I nod as he continues, picturing it in my mind. A broken crash barrier, police tape flapping in the breeze. No skid marks on the road, and the police having removed the bike, only marks in the ground showing where it had laid. Although I’m not religious I’d stood and bowed my head at the spot, hoping there might be a god out there to answer the prayer I’d sent up for my fallen brother.

“Unless the police let us take a look at the bike, or Heart comes around and is able to talk to us, we’re still no closer to findin’ out what happened,” Drum finishes up.

“They’re callin’ for any witnesses on the local news.” Dollar tips his bottle toward Drum. “I just seen it.”

“I’ll ring this Hannah woman in the mornin’.” Drum jerks his head. “Though it probably would be too much to fuckin’ hope they’ll give us much information. Shooter, any change in Heart’s condition?”

Shooter’s looking drawn. “He coded while I was there. But they got him back. He’s fightin’, Prez, but I dunno. I spoke to the doc, she’s harpin’ on about the fact Heart wasn’t wearin’ a helmet.”

I close my eyes briefly. In Arizona, if you’re over eighteen you don’t need to wear a lid. Confident in our riding skills, most of us don’t. Could a brain bucket have saved him? Who the fuck knows? Desolation rolls over me, the thought of my brother with his life hanging on by a thread almost a physical pain. What the fuck had happened? What had made his bike go off the road? He’s not a reckless rider, and especially not with his wife riding two up. “There had to be someone else involved.”

I didn’t realise I’d spoken my thought aloud until Drum responds, “Have to say, that’s the feel in my gut too.”

And we spend a few minutes again trying to work out who the fuck it could have been. Getting nowhere of course.

Drum bangs the gravel. “Slick, what did Ella want?”

“Hey, you been to see your ol’ lady?” Beef laughs, and I scowl. Yeah, it’s a fucking joke to them that I put everything on the line and claimed her and she walked out on me not two weeks later.

“Shut the fuck up, Beef.” Drum glares at him, and that’s all it takes. “Slick?”

I let them in on her worries.

Mouse grins. He always loves a new problem to solve. “Kid that age must have Facebook or Instagram. I’ll get onto her stuff and check it out.”

“She go out often?”

“Apparently so.”

“Let’s get a prospect on her. See who’s she’s meetin’.” I nod at Wraith, grateful he’s offering the club’s help.

“Can she get hold of her sister’s phone?”

I raise my shoulders. “I don’t fuckin’ know. If there’s anythin’ on it, the girl’s hardly likely to offer it up.”

Mouse pinches his nose. “I could try and get into her records, but that’s not gonna be easy. Havin’ the device would be the best by far.”

“You tell me where she is and I’ll get it for ya.” Tongue’s grinning, and I remember how he survived on the streets as a boy. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve used his pick-pocketing skills. I nod, a dual-purpose gesture both to thank him and to let him know I’ll find out for him.

“Can you bring her to the clubhouse, Slick? If I’m lookin’ at her Facebook page she might know what’s kosher and what’s not.”

“I’ll try, Mouse.” I can’t help wondering whether she’ll ever want to set foot in the compound again. And just as importantly, whether I would want to see her in what is essentially my home.

“Right, so we’re all on board and we’ll help Ella. And you douchebags, we all know what went down, or didn’t, between her and Slick. But we might not all be sitting here if she hadn’t had helped like she did. We got crucial information from those cameras she planted, and she got hurt for her troubles. She comes to the clubhouse you treat her with some fuckin’ respect. And that goes for you too, Slick.”

I start as Drum focusses that steely glare on me, realising what a dick I’ve been toward her. Was it me that fucked up? Like a light bulb illuminating, it dawns on me that all the time I’ve been blaming her, lost in the embarrassment she’d caused me, the hurt to my pride the way she’d thrown my embryonic love for her back in my face, that perhaps I’d been wrong to let her go. I never actually told her my feelings for her, I just expected her to know. When she’d left I’d been so hurt and angry I’d not even followed her, let alone questioned her on why she’d gone. Had it been something I’d done, or perhaps something I’d missed? Something other than the danger of my life that she couldn’t take? Perhaps it’s past time that we had that conversation. Accepting at least some of the blame lies at my door another crack appears, this time a big one, and bricks start tumbling down.

“Slick!” Drum growls, “You treat her with fuckin’ respect, you hear me?”

Seeing he’s waiting for my response, I give a sharp nod. I hear him loud and clear.

“Okay. We’re all fuckin’ talked out. Rock, you takin’ over for Dart at the hospital later?”

“Yeah, Prez.”

“Right, church fuckin’ over. Go get laid, sleep, drink or play with your dicks. Whatever the fuck you want and we’ll meet back tomorrow.” Drum bangs the gavel and the meeting ends.

 

 

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