Page 79 of Devil's Due

I can imagine Drummer’s lips quirking. “Or good in some circles. Not good to be seen as weak.”

“Get recognised for a fuckin’ bank job where people were killed?” I say incredulously.

“Your woman, Beef. She can hold her own in the courtroom? She being coerced by the feds?”

“Nah, she’s doing this because she thinks it’s the right thing.” I ignore his reference to her being my woman. “She willingly got into the witness program to keep herself and her family safe, and so she can stay alive to give that testimony.”

“Demon. You say you’re getting pressure from the local Wretched Soulz chapter?”

“They’re acting on what’s coming out of LA from what I can see.”

“Okay. Their chapters are basically autonomous, and I don’t know many folks from the LA branch. Let me get Chaz’s thoughts on it.”

Chaz is the president of the Arizona Wretched Soulz. It would at least be useful for Drummer to talk to him.

We thank him, then end the call.

Demon gazes at me thoughtfully. “Don’t know what will happen if we have to go head-to-head with the Wretched Soulz. That’s why I needed to give Drummer the head’s up.”

Fuck. This is serious. Satan’s Devils would not survive a war with the Wretched Soulz, that’s something I don’t even want to think about. Lennox could take Stevie, set her up somewhere new, but can we trust him? I’m not convinced. The wheels in my head turn fast. Visions of Stevie so competent at the cabin, thoughts of her under me in bed. The realisation I’m not ready to lose her.

I reach the only solution I can. “I’m not leaving Stevie to go somewhere alone.” I bow my head for a second, then look up decisively. “If it comes to it, I’ll turn in my patch and go off the grid.”

His hand crashes down on the desktop. “She’s not even your bitch, Beef. How could you think of doing something so fuckin’ drastic? How would you survive? No club, no brothers behind you?”

Another rise and dip of my shoulders. I could have lost her today. Third time she’s come far too close to being killed. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her, not if I could have been there to prevent it. She means more to me alive, than my being a biker. “Doesn’t matter, Demon. I’ve made up my mind. Nah, she’s not mine, but how could she survive on her own?”

“She was doing okay in a strange city until they caught up with her. Cad could sort her out with a new ID, we do it ourselves. Find somewhere new to send her.”

“That was before she was looking over her shoulder all the time,” I reply, firmly. “She’s scared out of her wits now. You wouldn’t think it to look at her, but she’s had her confidence shaken. Wit Sec should have been fuckin’ fool proof, that’s what she was told. She agreed to lose contact with family and friends, everything familiar so no pressure could be brought on her to not testify. Now it’s all fucked up, she’s never going to trust she’s safe ever again. She’ll always be waiting for someone to catch up with her. Someone she literally wouldn’t see coming.”

Demon’s finger and thumb find the top of his nose. A minute or so passes before he next speaks. “We need to be able to reassure her it won’t happen again. Trouble is, I don’t know how much time we have. Word gets out she’s here on the compound, we might have the Wretched Soulz knocking at our door before we’re ready.” He breathes in deep, then lets it out as a sigh. “What if you persuade her not to testify?”

“Don’t think I’d be able to do that. Look at everything she’s lost getting this far. She’d have given up everything for nothing.”

“Or, she might be safe if she agrees to keep her mouth shut and be able to return to her family.”

She might be able to at that, but my gut tells me Stevie would find it hard to live with herself if she didn’t bring the bad guys to task. She still has nightmares of shots firing and people screaming. She’d be adding guilt on top of her uselessness at the time to do anything to help, she won’t be getting justice for those who lost their lives. Knowing the woman as I’ve come to, I don’t think she’d rest easy doing that.

My face shows I’m dubious that such a suggestion would work.

Slowly, Demon nods. “Keep that thought to yourself for now then, but it’s an option. Now,” his voice lightens, “shall we see what our marshal has to say?”

“Yeah. How do you want to play it?”

He inhales sharply, then the corners of his mouth turn up. “Shall we subject him to church?”

As long as Demon is confident everyone can mind what comes out of their mouths, why the fuck not?

While Demon gets a prospect to round everyone up, I go out to grab a beer from the bar. Lennox steps forward sharply as soon as he sees me, and steps in my way. Takes a brave fucking man to impede my progress to the bar. A warning growl sounds in my throat.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“What’s going on is I’m going to get myself a fuckin’ drink.” I go to push past, then take pity on him. “Prez is calling the brothers together now. You’re going to be invited into church.”

He rears back a little. “I take it that’s what you call your meetings?”

I grin evilly. “Or it could be where we torture the truth out of somebody.”

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