Chapter 18

Dart

When I see Eva sitting with the rest of the girls, she preens and gives me a flirtatious wink. She’s pretty enough, but now that I’m really looking at her and not being guided by my cock I see she’s got nothing on the woman I’ve just left. She doesn’t make my pulse speed up, or cause my blood to heat. She was a chance to scratch my itch, and available hole to shoot my load into. And it’s cost me so fucking much.

I couldn’t offer Alex a promise of anything permanent. But I’d be prepared to offer her more than I’ve ever offered any other woman in my life, and the thought of her riding bitch on my bike strangely holds attraction. I suspect Mouse is right, one time with her and fidelity, at least in the short term, wouldn’t be a problem.

But from that one stupid action which I immediately regretted, I’ve put myself into the position where I’m unlikely ever to know what it’s like to have behind me on my bike, or having her beneath me as I sink into her soft tempting depths. And once wouldn’t have satisfied me, and that’s possibly the first time I’ve ever thought that way. She’s not a practiced whore, I’d place a bet Thompson was the only other fucker to have her. There’s probably so much I can teach her, show her, and now I’ve lost my chance.

I can see why she’s reluctant to forgive me, I can’t see a way to exonerate myself. She’d put up with enough from her husband in the past, and strong woman that she is, she’s learned her lesson, and isn’t prepared to listen to excuses from another man.

Fuck it. I could have been a different man for her. While I don’t have it in me to make a long-term commitment, I knew when I’d left Eva’s room that until I had a chance to get Alex out of my system, however long that might take, no other woman would satisfy me.

I feel like someone being offered their first fix of cocaine, knowing it would be addicting, hesitating before trying it, but knowing I’ll be unable to resist. And now, due to my own stupidity, my chance of trying the drug of my choice has been taken away. I left it too long to reach out and grab it.

I’m standing in the middle of the clubroom, staring into space. I hadn’t noticed anyone approaching me until I feel a touch on my arm.

“Dart, I’ve got a couple of hours before I leave for work.”

I wrench my arm out of her touch. “Been there. Done that, Eva. I don’t go back.”

Her eyes become slits. “But I thought…”

Yeah, just another club girl wanting to snag herself an old man. “You thought wrong. And don’t go opening your mouth to Alex again.”

I’m so angry, I’m shaking. But the blame isn’t on her. It’s on me.

Eva looks crushed. “You said she wasn’t your woman.”

She isn’t. And now it seems likely she never will be. Leaving the club whore standing alone, I make my way to the bar.

Mouse comes over, takes one look at the expression on my face, then shakes his head. “You fucked up, Brother.”

And I can’t fucking deny that I did. Badly. And I’ve no idea how to mend it. I flick my eyes toward him. “Eva’s got a big mouth.”

Mouse rolls his head around, then puts his hand on my shoulder. He looks as if he’s going to say something along the lines of he could have warned me I was making a mistake, but changes his mind at my glare. “Fuckin’ sorry, man. Still think you should have gone for it.”

Past tense. Seems he thinks my chances are shot too.

He calls to the prospect to get me a much needed drink.

I’m only halfway through my beer, which seems tasteless, when Snake comes out of whatever cave he hides in. He doesn’t waste time getting to the point. “Got a call from Tinder, who’s up by the cabin. Thompson’s turned up with another cop. They went inside. An hour later another carload of cops turned up.”

“Forensics,” Mouse suggests.

“I would think so.”

“I’d have given anythin’ to see Thompson’s face.” Mouse laughs. “Alex missin’ and a clean-up done.”

A half-smile forms on my lips. “He must have been fuckin’ beside himself. But he’ll probably make sure they check for prints to find out who helped her escape.”

“Let them. Is Alex fit enough to come with me today?”

I hadn’t asked her, though that was the main reason that I went up to her room just now. But other things took precedence. Remembering how unsteady she appeared on her feet, I doubt very much that she is. “Best give it another day or so, Brother.”

Mouse nods. “Well, it will give them a chance to pick up my prints from the cabin. Can’t fuckin’ wait to see their faces when they see us turn up.”

“It all hangs on Alex being able to play her part. If she’s not lookin’ well, they’ll sniff somethin’s wrong.” Snake nods at Mouse. “Another twenty-four hours will have her lookin’ and feelin’ stronger.”

“Why can’t she just tell them it was her ex?”

I roll my eyes as Poke joins us. He’s working at his teeth with a wooden stick. “Because cops stick together. They’ll be inclined to believe whatever Thompson tells them. They’ll take his word over his wife’s.”

“But his fingerprints will also be all over the cabin…”

“Because he fuckin’ went there at some point with his wife. He’ll make some story up.”

Poke’s not going to give up. “Then we take him. If he disappears…”

Snake whacks him over the head. “And who do you think they’ll come lookin’ for first? We want to clear Mouse’s name, not give them more incentive to dig.” The prez looks at me and shakes his head as though he’s apologising for his sergeant-at-arms. As Poke walks away, he confirms it by saying, “I’m convinced his momma dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”

I wouldn’t be at all surprised.

“Got company!” Lost calls out from over by a window. “Tucson boys wanna make themselves lost.”

Snake moves fast, directing us to a room, and then to a closet where a panic room’s hidden behind. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d never see it. “We tried to soundproof it but ain’t no guarantee. Try to keep quiet in there.”

Don’t think any of us are going to say a word. Probably try to stop breathing if we could. Snake leaves us to deal with the police and the inevitable raid. But before long the door opens again, and Alex is carried inside.

“Sorry, darlin’, was quicker to carry ya,” Grumbler explains as he puts her on her feet, Tyler runs in after them, then the door’s shut again.

Fuck. It had slipped my mind she couldn’t be found either, not in the state she’s in today. And now we’re all imprisoned together, nobody able to make a sound. To say the silence is awkward is a gross understatement.

Tyler crosses over to me. I take his hand and lean down, speaking softly. “You’ve got to be real quiet, buddy.”

“Are there bad men out there?”

It’s probably the easiest way to explain to him. “Yeah, the bad men who hurt your mom.”

With a grown-up look, much too old for his age, he looks at his mom and then back to me. “My dad.”

Alex’s eyes open wide, and I give a violent shake of my head. No, I hadn’t told him who’d hurt her. The kid had worked it out for himself. It gets me in the guts that a boy should know something like that about the man who sired him. Tyler drops his hand and goes to sit on the floor beside Alex.

There’s not much room, and Slick moves so I can go to Alex’s side. Ignoring his unspoken offer, I ease myself back into the corner instead, keeping what distance I can between us. Mouse narrows his eyes and shakes his head, then he takes charge, crossing to her and whispering into her ear. He then lends her a hand to help her sit down and get herself as comfortable as she can on the floor. He sits down on the opposite side to Tyler, his arm around her shoulder. I watch as she whispers a question into his ear, which he answers with a sharp nod, and I wish it was me she’s turning too. But I’ve blown it.

She won’t even look at me. Won’t catch my eye. It physically hurts to see the way she’s holding herself, trying to be so brave for son. And it cuts me to the quick when Mouse stretches out his legs, letting her half lie down to take the pressure off her injured chest. It should be me.

Slick’s glaring at me, Mouse throws me dirty looks. But as we’re trying to keep quiet, I’ve no chance to explain, or to plead my case with Alex. Though even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to say. I can’t deny I fucked another woman, and in the world Alex comes from, if I really wanted her, I’d have waited.

But that’s not my world. Man’s got urges, man gets them taken care off. And sometimes your hand just won’t do. I’d made no commitment to Alex. So why the fuck am I wishing I’d kept my fuckin’ dick dry? Maybe it’s better not to draw her into this life. She’d never accept or understand it. Best she’s never going to be riding bitch up behind me. Fuck, I’ll never feel her at my back.

Damn it! I turn around and rest my forehead against the wall.

It seems like forever to me until the door opens again.

But Slick arches his eyebrow. “That was quick.”

The man who’d given us our freedom puts his finger to his lips. “Snake wants you out of here. Cops are out in the main room questionin’ the brothers. We’re goin’ out the back.” I notice the name on his cut is Gator.

There’s another man standing behind him with such a leer on his face, there’s something about him to which I take an immediate dislike.

“Why aren’t we safe in here?” Something tells me this is wrong. I don’t trust these men at all. I make a gesture to Mouse and Slick to stay where they are.

“Come on. You’re wastin’ time.”

“Get Snake, I want to hear it from him.”

Now the second man steps in. Quick as a flash, he’s got Tyler up and is holding him with a knife to his throat. “Take out your weapons and drop them,” he rasps. “And don’t think of shoutin’ for help. You’ll have a dead kid on yer hands in you do more than fuckin’ blink.”

Damn it, this is one time I didn’t want to be right, but I don’t see disobeying as any alternative. One look at Alex’s face, her mouth open in horror, her eyes flicking wildly between us, and I don’t hesitate. Carefully I slide my gun out of my cut and put it on the floor. Slick and Mouse do the same.

“Now your knives.”

Mouse opens his cut to show he doesn’t carry one. Slick and I take ours out, and the small pile of weapons grows on the floor.

“Turn around. Hands behind your back. I don’t care for kids, especially a nigger brat, so if you don’t want his head and body separated, then you do as I say.”

His racist term hits me in the gut. He’s signed his death warrant for calling Tyler that. But for the moment we’ve got no choice other than to follow the instructions, that knife at the boy’s throat too much of a threat.

Next thing I know my hands are being tied behind me tightly with rope. I try to tense my muscles to allow for some slack, but Gator knows what he’s doing with knots. When he’s finished I can’t get them free.

“Now come with me. And remember, Fang’s got the kid.”

I exchange glances with Slick. With Tyler’s life at risk, there’s not much we can do. Alex awkwardly gets to her feet, her body hunched over in pain. As soon as she’s standing, Gator ties her hands too. Raised voices can be heard from the clubroom, help so near, and yet so far. Gator is wearing a Satan’s Devils San Diego cut, but Fang’s cut is bare, just jagged stitching where patches were stripped off. Looks like we’re in the hands of an out bad member, a man with nothing else to lose.

Unwilling to risk even the slightest injury to Tyler, I and my brothers follow Gator out back where a blacked-out truck is waiting. As Gator opens the back he instructs that we move inside. Slick gets in first, followed by Mouse. Somehow, and with a lot of pain, Alex manages to heave herself up and roll in. While Gator and Fang watch her struggles with grins playing at their mouths, I take my chance and throw my body back, twisting so my head knocks into Fang’s arm holding the knife. I feel it slice along my jaw line, but ignoring the injury, shout, “Run, Tyler. Run!”

The boy’s fast to react, turning and disappearing back into the clubhouse.

For my reward, I get a fist to my already bleeding face, so hard it makes me see stars. Both men pick me up and throw me into the truck. The doors are slammed shut, Gator jumps in the driver’s seat, Fang next to him. The engine is gunned, and we’re off, crashing through the partially open gate, surprising the cop left waiting outside.

After a couple of minutes Gator asks, “Have we got a tail?”

Fang’s studying the side mirror. “Nah. Most were inside. Fuckers can’t get themselves organised.”

At the moment I wish the police had got themselves together in time. But at least Snake will know we’ve been taken.

“Thank you,” Alex mouths. I’d got her son safely away. Fuck me, hurt and injured, kidnapped and stolen, yet again, and this woman’s so strong her only thought is for the boy. And all my concern is for her.

What the fuck have we got mixed up in now?

“The kid will have raised the alarm,” Fang sounds angry. “I shoulda' killed him but he was too fuckin’ quick.”

“Fuckin’ brat’s too young to have picked up much. What can he say?”

“He might have our names…”

“Snake won’t give a damn. We’re followin’ his orders after all. Probably gut the kid himself.”

“The police are still there…”

“We know Thompson wants the brat. And the bitch dead. Kid will probably go runnin’ straight into dear papa’s hands. Now keep your eye on them in the back.”

As Fang turns around and levels his weapon at us, he gives an evil grin towards Alex, and as his mouth opens I can see how he got his name. One of his top canines is missing, the other seems overly long. My fists itch to knock it out, and the smile off his face.

Alex is trembling, her head starts dropping. Awkwardly I move myself and try and put my body between her and the hard floor of the truck. She’s doing that quiet as fuck sobbing thing again, and knowing her, it’s the thought of Tyler in her ex’s hands rather than the death sentence that’s been announced on herself, that’s causing her terror.

“It will be alright, doll,” I whisper into her ear. “It will all turn out right.”

She shakes her head sadly. She’s come through so much, it will be breaking her all over again losing her son now.

Slick and Mouse aren’t making a move. With our hands literally tied, and the unwavering gun pointed at us, there’s nothing we can do now except try and communicate by almost imperceptible gestures. By their narrowed eyes, I realise they’d picked up on the comment about Snake just like I had. I take the time to run over conversations I’ve had with the man in my head. There was nothing to suggest that he hadn’t been playing it straight with us. Perhaps he’s a good actor? But why? That’s what I can’t understand. I try to pick at the threads.

Did Snake rat us out to the police? That doesn’t seem likely if he’s in league with Gator and Fang. Why kidnap us at all?

No fucking answers come to me. Snake’s a Satan’s Devils president. For the life of me, I can’t see what he’s got to gain. But next time I see him he better have some fucking answers. Glancing at Slick, and then at Mouse, it’s clear we’re all thinking along the same lines. And none of them are good.

Then I spare a thought for Tyler. I can see nothing else but him running back into the club to raise the alarm, only to be faced with a possible rebel president who doesn’t give a damn about the kid, or, and I can’t make up my mind which is worse, his father who’s already tortured and tried to kill his mother. I told Alex it will be alright. Right now, I have no fucking idea how.

The truck’s turned off the main highway and is going up some side roads, and shortly after, starts bumping down a neglected track. It comes to a halt at an abandoned warehouse. Fang wastes no time getting out, and he’s joined by Gator as he opens the doors.

“Out.”

The one word command backed up by the threat of the gun has us moving. Slick nudges me from behind, and I know what he’s thinking. But so do the men who’ve taken us, stepping back smartly out of our reach and, bound as we are, we don’t have a chance to go on the attack.

“Inside.”

With guns at our back we approach the warehouse. Alex stumbles from weakness, and gets a fist to her side to encourage her to get to her feet and start moving again. No hand offered to help her up, no chance for me to try to knock Gator or Fang off their feet. I growl at the additional injury she’s received.

We enter into a large room with machinery obviously unused for years. But the area itself has been used before, and quite probably recently. There’s the metallic odour of blood in the air, and red stains at our feet. I half close my eyes. This room is much like our storage room back in Tucson, and pretty soon I’ll most likely be on the wrong end of the type of treatment we dish out there. But we’re not allowed to linger, and are pushed on through, into a room with no windows and only one door, it’s bare with no furniture.

Having pushed us in, Gator and Fang make as if to leave. Before they can close the door, I take the initiative, turning to face our captors head on. “Who are you? And what do you want from us?”

“All in good fuckin’ time,” Gator replies, and then slams the door shut.