Page 4 of Heart Mended

“Later, babe,” I murmur into Marc’s ear, then in the other direction, “Yeah, Prez, what’s up?”

Chapter Two

“You gonna be free later on tonight, Heart?”

Drummer, the president of the Satan’s Devils MC, Tucson Chapter, takes his seat behind the large desk. On the wall to his rear is the huge flag we hang in all our chapters’ clubhouses, displaying the Satan’s Devils’ insignia. The same one as we wear on our cuts. Taking the seat indicated, I nod toward Peg, then raise my chin toward Blade.

“I can be free,” I answer the prez. “What’s up?”

Prez nods at Blade, who kicks it off. “Might have an issue at Angels.” He pauses, then barks a laugh. “Fuck that, it’s not might, we have.”

The Satan’s Angels is the strip club we run in Tucson. I frown. If there’s any issue there, I would have thought I would be the last person to be asked to get involved. I haven’t been back there for almost three years, since I was lost in my madness caused by grief. Acting out of character, I put my hands on a woman who wasn’t willing. Of course, it was all for show. My cock had been dead since the moment I’d learned my wife had died. I wouldn’t have been able to get it up if I’d wanted to, but no one else had known that. They’d bought into the story I’d tried to rape her.

When Crystal had gone, my brothers had rallied around me, never leaving me alone, not for one fucking minute. They were smothering me, their sympathy and concern overwhelming. They wanted to help me through my pain, but I’d wanted to give into it, to follow my wife to her grave. I had to do something bad enough that they wouldn’t be able to forgive me, and which would either get me killed or kicked out of the club. At the time, I hadn’t a particular preference between either option. Poor Tinker, one of our best dancers, was the one I had used, no reason, she’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. As the memories assail me, I close my eyes, full of shame for the man I’d been then.

“Snap out of it, Brother. Know where your fuckin’ mind just went. That wasn’t you that night. Everyone knows it.” Drummer’s grey eyes are decidedly steely. “You gonna spend the rest of your life avoiding the place because you fucked up when you were crazy with grief?”

I shrug. “Haven’t been back since, Prez. Yeah, I fucked up. Fucked up bad.”

“Time you faced it, then, Heart.” Peg’s gruff voice is loud. “Need someone to go down there, check shit out. Can’t spare anyone else.”

“Fuckin’ wish we didn’t have to,” Blade grumbles aloud.

Drawing air into my lungs, I sit up straighter. Sounds like if there is a problem, I’ll be expected to step up and play my part to sort it out. I can’t continue expecting my brothers to make allowances for me. It has been three years since my wife died. It’s about time I faced up to shit. If that means heading back to the place where I hit my lowest, so be it.

I nod at Prez, then the sergeant-at-arms and raise my chin toward the enforcer accepting I’ll be doing whatever I’m asked. “Okay. Tell me what you got.”

“What we’ve got is a fuckin’ drug problem. One of the dancers.”

Blade’s pronouncement makes me sit up straight. The Satan’s Angels has a good reputation. We treat, or had until I fucked things up, our girls well. We get and keep the best dancers as they come under our protection. In return, they give us all they’ve got. That doesn’t include dancing when they’re doped up with drugs. I run through the girls and what I remember of them. I come up with no one I would suspect. From our discussions at church, I know there’s not been anyone new brought on board.

My brow knits. “Who’s using?”

“Not using, dealing,” Peg snarls.

Fuck. That’s even worse. As my eyes catch Drummer’s, he doesn’t have to tell me that will start attracting the wrong clientele, and not those there to watch the dancers. We’ve got to nip that in the bud before trouble knocks at the door. Getting a bad rep for the wrong reasons will turn all the bonafide customers away. Probably bring us unwanted attention from the cops, too. Fuck that.

“Who?” I snap, annoyed on behalf of the club.

Blade stares straight at me as he prepares to respond to my question as though he expects me to challenge his answer. He even pauses to take a breath, before saying the name, “Vida.”

I might not have gone to the strip club for more than a couple of years, but Vida’s one of our best dancers. I know, used to know, her well. Nah. Something’s wrong. It has to be. She’s solid. Isn’t she?

My brow creases as my eyebrows rise. “What evidence have you got?”

“Philby’s been watching out. He’d had some suspicions, so kept a closer eye on things. Noticed last night, and before you ask, nah, he’s got no doubts.” Drummer’s tone shows he’s far from happy as he imparts what the bouncer has obviously said. “Can’t afford to lose our reputation. But,” he pauses, “she’s been with us a long time, Heart.”

Peg exchanges a look with the prez, then glances at me. “You up for talking to her?”

Pinching the brow of my nose, I suppose I’ll have to if I’m apparently the one they want to have words. Though why me, I’ve no idea. If someone’s needed to put the fear of God into her, I’m really not the right man, but there’ll be a reason they’ve asked me. Blade or Peg would normally be the ones to step up.

“I’ll sort it. You’re leaving it with me?” I might have to end her employment so I need to be sure. “You’ll support any decision I make?”

The nods and chin lifts I get back show they expect me to deal with whatever I find in the way I think best. Drugs. Shaking my head sadly, I can’t see any other way out than giving someone their marching orders tonight.

Satan’s Angels is a lucrative business for us. If our take goes down, it affects the pocket of every member.

Later that day, as I ride my bike down into Tucson, I admit to not feeling particularly charitable toward the dancer whose bad choices in life might fall back on us and has landed me with this unpleasant task. I’ve planned to arrive at the strip club just before eight when it opens its doors to the public. Vida is a popular dancer, more than that, she’s taken it on herself to be a mother hen to the other girls. If she’s fallen over the edge, my worry would be the others might follow.

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