Page 95 of Devil's Due

“Nah,” he laughs, but there’s no joy in it. “Or not in the way that you think. Managed to stay out of trouble with the law so far. My old man was a judge. Not that I knew him. One-night stand with my ma. But she always hoped I’d take after him. At least I didn’t take after her.”

“No?” There’s more. I can sense it.

“Nah,” he repeats. “Found earning her living on her back was easier than doing an honest day’s work. Got herself killed when I was eleven. I ended up in the system. No one cared about my education then.”

“Judge,” I say, half to myself. Then I slap him on the back. “How’s about making you one, now? Judge as your handle.”

His eyes move heavenwards, and a smile comes over his face. “Christ, what a joke. I don’t mind. Think Prez will go along with it?”

I have a feeling that Demon won’t give a fuck. I’ve taken a liking for the lad, already suspecting he’s got intelligence, showing he’d picked up more of his dad’s traits than he did his mom’s. His background isn’t surprising, like so many cast adrift at such a young age, a family is all they long for. Belonging to an MC gives them what they’ve never had. Men like that can be trusted to have your back. They’re never going to fuck up the one chance they have.

“Beef? You around?” Demon’s voice bellows from the direction of the clubroom.

Dan—Judge—leaps up. “I’ll go…”

“Not a prospect anymore. You don’t need to run at everyone’s beck and call. Come on, we’ll both go see what he wants.”

What Demon wants is to let me know he’s set up a meeting with RIP, and that it’s going to happen fast. He’s meeting him and his VP at a local bar tomorrow. The speed is good. If we can get the dominant off Stevie’s back, then it’s one less thing I have to worry about. I’ll be able to make plans for Stevie and me. After I find her, of course.

“Hey, Demon.” I follow him back into his office, shutting the door behind me. “Who’s going to be at the meet from our side?”

“You want to be there.” It’s a statement so I jerk my chin.Try and keep me away.“I need someone to have my back.”

Again, a statement. Reminding me that that’s my role. Stand there and look ugly, intimidating. Not for the first time I wish I was seen as more than a muscular body and a threatening face.

But he surprises me. “Thunder won’t want to go, so you’ll stand at my side. RIP knows he isn’t my permanent VP so there’ll be no surprise there. But for a third? I was thinking…”

“Judge.”

He looks perplexed as well he might.

“I’ve just given a road name to Dan.”

“Story there?”

There is. But it isn’t mine to tell. I raise my chin.

“Judge. Yeah, I like it. Kid’s got a good head on his shoulders. Yeah, okay. About time we brought him on board.”

I grab a chair, turn it around, and sit with my hands clasped over the back. “How we going to play this, Prez?”

“You heard Hell.” He grins. “Don’t mind using my old man’s experience when it helps, but I don’t want him there. My show now. Anyway, Hell’s busy trying to keep himself out of the shit he passed on. You present it as your idea. Can you do that, Beef?”

Of course I can. Though it will be the first time I’ve spoken up in such a meeting. “I’ll be fine,” I reply, confidently. “And Stevie’s mine. I’m happy to make that plain to him.”

“You sure? You seemed a bit uncertain, earlier.”

“Got issues, Prez. Needed a kick to get my head out of my ass. But yeah, I’m fine.”

A searching look, then a nod. “Best get Dan,Judge, ready then. Brief him on what to do, will you?”

I can do that. After all, it’s what I’ve been doing all my life.

After a sleepless night with a restless Max by my side, I’m more than ready to get to the meet the next day.

I’ve heard of RIP’s reputation, who hasn’t? There are various rumours about how he got his name. My personal favourite, and I think his, and why he insists his name be spelled in capitals, is that he gained it from being the last thing he says before offing someone. The more likely is that it’s short for Ripper, as his legal first name is Jack. It’s true that before he rose through the ranks I’ve heard him referred to as Ripper, so am pretty certain the second is closest to the truth. Still, who would want to argue with a Wretched Soulz prez?

I’m reminded of how much he likes theatre when, having left Beaver, the prospect minding the bikes, Demon, myself and the newly named Judge, walk into the bar, quickly seeing a trio of men sitting at a corner table. The others in the vicinity are left vacant, even though the place is busy.

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