Page 5 of Paladin's Hell

Chapter 2

Hellfire

“What?”

Moira’s clipped tone conveys her annoyance that she’s caught me staring. I shrug. Nowadays I’m not certain whether it’s better to keep quiet or change the subject. Commenting or making an observation, is likely to get my head snapped off. Deciding the sensible option is probably to keep my mouth shut, I grab a sweater that’s hanging on the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen. Saying nothing, hoping not to draw attention to what I’m doing, I casually slip it on over my head. It’s mid-February, and while I admit it’s not the coldest it has been, it’s still too chilly to have windows open all over the house. It seems, though, even actions have consequences.

“I can’t fucking help it,” she snarls, as if I’d replied using words. With a loud huff, she leaves what she was doing and walks out of the room.

After closing the wide-open window, I follow her. Moira’s now in the living room, idly flicking through a magazine. Her face red and glowing. How can I make her realise I hate to see her going through this?

“What do you want, Hell?” she sighs, tiredly.

To right the world for her if I could. But some things are beyond me. I go and sit on the armchair, she’s taken the couch. Right now, she won’t want me near her. It’s as though the thermostat of her body is faulty, one moment she’s feeling normal, the next she can be out in the snow wearing just her nightie. It embarrasses her, I know it. So, pulling the sweater more firmly around me, I ignore the temperature in the house.

“Had word from Drummer.”

“The National Prez?”

I nod to confirm it, while thinking it’s probably better we’re here in Pueblo, Colorado, rather than Tucson where the mother chapter of the Satan’s Devils is based. At least Moira can get cool here if she wants to.

Closing her magazine, she tilts her head to one side. “What does he want? You going to be making a trip down to Tucson? They got trouble again?”

Quickly I reassure her. “Nah, nothing like that.” My lips curve briefly as I recall the conversation I’d had with Drummer. “He was feeling me out as to my views on something.”

Her eyes narrowing, she states, “You don’t usually discuss club business with me, Hell.”

She’s right, I don’t. I’ve been the prez of the Colorado chapter of the Satan’s Devils for twenty years now, VP ten years before that. Moira’s been mine since I got my patch, a few years before I started to work my way up the ranks. She’s known the score for a very long time. What the club does remains secret from old ladies and anyone who isn’t a patched member.

I sit forward and place my elbows on my knees, clasping my hands together. “Think I need a woman’s advice on this one, and it’s possible that I’ll need you to get involved.”

Getting up she, thank fuck, closes the window, shivers, then comes back and sits down. I keep my face impassive, but she gives a sheepish grin, then a look full of apology. I wave it off.

“What’s going on, partner?”

Yeah, she’s my partner. Always has been, constantly having my back. I raise my chin. “Bit of a long story…”

Another curve of her lips. “I’ve got time.” She has. Now that our youngest has gone to college, she’s often at a loss for things to do.

I acknowledge her statement with a nod and take a breath. “Trouble is, where do I start?”

“At the beginning?” Moira suggests as she settles back to make herself comfortable.

Another raise and dip of my head. “Okay, the way I understand it, he’s got a member wanting to transfer… Nah.” I break off. “It doesn’t start with him; it begins with what happened to Jayden.” As Moira’s eyebrow rises, I resume. “Jayden’s the young sister of one of the brothers, Slick’s, old lady. Couple of years ago she got caught up in a child-grooming ring. Can’t put this any other way but to say it as it is. She was drugged, raped, forced to have sex with multiple men, and on more than one occasion.” My eyes go to hers to see how she’s taking it. If I’m to do what Drummer has requested, I need Moira on my side, but I’m wary of throwing her back into her own painful memories.

Moira’s hand is covering her mouth; her pupils look large on her face. Of anyone, I know how much she’ll understand what happened to Jayden and will be sympathetic. “How old was she then?”

“Fourteen,” I tell her.

My old lady settles back on the couch, drawing her legs up under her. I take a second to admire the way she’s still as supple as she was when she was seventeen. “Poor kid. Sad story. What’s it got to do with us?”

“Drummer and his brothers broke up the child-grooming ring. But it had been run by members of the local crime family, the Herreras. The fuckers who were molesting kids were all taken out, but the Herreras still seem to have the Tucson Devils in their sights. If it hadn’t been for Jayden, the lucrative business might still have gone on, and those responsible, their family, still alive.”

“After all this time, they still want her?”

It’s hard discussing this shit with her, knowing what to say and what to hold back. This is new territory for me. “There’s been changes with the Herreras at the top, Drummer might be being overcautious, but he knows enough to be worried. He wants to be prepared.”

Her head tilts as she examines me. “I don’t understand where we come in, or what you want from me? You know, Hell, if there’s some way I, or we, can help, you don’t have to ask.” Creases appear on her brow. “You mentioned someone wanting to transfer.”

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