Page 107 of Ink's Devil

When I hear footsteps coming to answer it, I carefully school my features.

“Er, the lady of the house is… Fuck me, Mace? Didn’t recognise you.”

“You the doorman now, Dirt?” Glancing down I see his Glock held by his side.

“Ain’t taking any chances. Told them to stay back while I check it out.”

“Mace? Is there news? About Ink? Or Connor?”

“Beth,” I acknowledge the woman who’s appeared behind the hangaround. “Patsy around? I want to talk to you both.”

“She’s upstairs just finishing off some sewing.”

“Patsy’s fuckin’ good at that shit,” Dirt tells me, admiringly. “Woman’s had some good news. One of the big stores has approached her wanting to use some of her designs for taller women.”

I’m confused.

After going to the stairs and yelling for her mother, Beth returns. “Mom took up making my clothes when I couldn’t get any to fit,” she explains, her voice showing she’s proud of the parent who makes her money in legit ways. Totally different from her other.

Patsy descends the stairs. “You’ve got news?” she’s asking, before she reaches the bottom step.

“Ink?” Beth queries hopefully. “Has he been released?”

“No.” I carefully examine her face as I give my one-word answer. I’d have to be blind to miss her pain. It’s been increasingly harder to maintain my animosity toward her having seen the condition of her brother. I’ve also a grudging admiration that she hadn’t wanted to involve the club or specifically Ink, so had taken the task on all by herself. I finally admit it wasn’t her fault he’d been there and got caught.

As the last vestiges of my ire disappear, I soften my voice. “Can we sit down?”

“Of course.” Patsy leads the way into the sitting room. “Do you want a beer or something, Mace?”

“Not at the moment. Thank you.” I take a breath. “There is news, but it’s not what you’re wanting.”

“Has Ink been hurt?” Beth covers her mouth and seems to stop breathing.

“This isn’t about Ink. It’s about your brother. Your son, Patsy.”

Patsy’s face pales at the mention of her errant child. “You’ve found him?”

There’s no easy way to deliver this. Taking a deep breath, I get it out fast, “I’m very sorry to tell you, but he’s gotten himself killed.”

“Noooo!” Beth cries out.

“No,” Patsy says, any remaining colour leaching from her face. “He can’t be. What happened? Why are you saying this?”

I decide to tell them as much of the truth as I can, easiest way to maintain the deceit. “He didn’t lie to you, Beth. Cad eventually managed to get a fix on where his calls had come from. It was a warehouse outside of Denver. We went to check it out. He’d been, he’d…”

“They beat him to death?” Beth says what I couldn’t. Then her head drops into her hands, and I hear her quietly sobbing. “It was all for n-n-nothing.”

Christ. It kills me to see her guilt, but I’m not sure how I can soften it. “You did what you could, Beth. What anyone would have done. You tried to save your brother.”

“No. He can’t be dead. He’s my son. I’d know it.”

I don’t think Patsy’s aware that she’s got tears streaming down her face. I spy a box of tissues and pass them over.

“The last thing I said to him was for him to get out of my house. If…”

Beth’s hand’s fast holding on to Patsy’s. “He wouldn’t have stayed, Mom. He was too much under Phil’s influence.”

If only I could tell them the truth, I could admit he’d discovered too much about his and Beth’s father and wanted out of that life. But in order for our plan to work, to get my brother back riding his bike, I’ve got to harden my heart to their distress and keep on with this charade.

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