Page 1 of Being Lost

Chapter One

Lost

“This will be you, one day. When you fuck all this up,” the shadowy figure by my side says snidely, pointing to the scene playing out in front of me.

The second version of Snake, stripped of his colours, stands stoically as full-strength brandy is dribbled over his back. His expression doesn’t hide that he knows exactly what to expect, as I do myself. I’ve watched how this plays out often enough, repeated time and time again in my dreams.

Unable to turn away, I stare on as Blade, the Tucson chapter’s enforcer, lights the blowtorch and burns off Snake’s Satan’s Devils’ tattoo. I can smell burning flesh, the air so tainted I’ve got the taste in my mouth. Bile rises in my stomach as I wonder for the hundredth time whether I’d be able to endure the same ordeal as soundlessly as my ex-prez.

Snake only moves when the punch from Drummer, the prez of the mother chapter, forces him to, then rights his head and spits teeth out of his mouth, taking blow after blow. He doesn’t beg, doesn’t ask for forgiveness or offer excuses, or utters any plea for clemency. Only involuntary grunts and gasps escape until his body is unmoving and prone. The bullet to his head is more symbolic than necessary, I think to myself. The man was already dead.

“It comes to us all,” the man in my dream tells me. “I’d like to tell you it doesn’t hurt much, but I’m not going to lie. Hurts like a fuckin’ bitch. Worst pain of my life.” He laughs maniacally. “What will you be like, I wonder? Will you be able to take it? Or will you be like him instead?”

The scene has moved on. Next up is Poke, the ex-sergeant-at-arms, who, unlike his prez, stands screaming, begging for a bullet instead. His shouts grow louder when the blowtorch burns the patch off his back. The sound of his anguish only fading when the hard punches and kicks finally shut him up.

“Will you beg like him, or take it like a man? As one thing’s for certain, you’re going to fuck up. One day this will be you, Lost.”

I turn to look at my tormentor, to tell him I’m not going to fuck up, but the spectre is fading, almost totally gone when his last words reach me. “I’ll be waiting for you in Hell, Brother.”

I shake my head to clear the vestiges of last night’s nightmare away, bringing myself back to the much pleasanter present.

The fresh smell blowing off the ocean reaches my nostrils. Pelicans fly overhead in formation looking like they are a flock of pterodactyls. Seals bask, the more energetic rolling and grunting beneath us, and squirrels pop their heads up from the undergrowth.

“Never get tired of this.” Dart shields his eyes from the sun, watching the birds pass.

“That’s because you’re still a desert boy at heart,” I mock him.

“True,” he answers with a grin.

“You ever get homesick for Tucson?” I ask my VP. He’s made a life for himself here in San Diego over the past three years, but still something drives me to enquire. He’d originally come as my temporary right-hand man when the trouble with the club had blown up, but had stayed and his transfer had become permanent. One important reason was to be close to the specialists treating his adopted son, Tyler, who had had sickle cell disease, but due to a bone marrow transplant, had recovered. Thank fuck. When I’d first met him, he’d been a sickly kid prone to distressing seizures. Now, you wouldn’t know there had ever been anything wrong with him.

Dart seems to be considering my question seriously. “Change is everywhere, Lost. Tucson’s become a different club over the years—oh, for the better, not the worse. My brothers have almost all found old ladies, something I never thought would happen.” He breaks off to chuckle. “Since I left, Heart’s got a new woman, and Peg, Rock, Mouse, and even fuckin’ Blade have fallen. New faces have come in, some have gone. Things don’t stop moving, which is just how it should be.” He looks sideways at me. “I didn’t know it then, but it had been time for me to move on. I feel the honour the club bestowed on me every fuckin’ day. When I first rode into San Diego, I never imagined I’d step into the role of VP. Add to that, I gained a wife and family. I couldn’t be fuckin’ happier, man. Do I miss Tucson? How could I not? But I’ve no yearning to return there. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

It’s much as I feel, without the woman and kids that is. How the fuck did I, the man known for losing everything, end up the president of the Satan’s Devils MC San Diego chapter? That question has me beat. I might have been in the role three years now, but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop which it’s bound to do at some point. Fuck knows, I know that better than anyone.

“How’s the baby?” Niran, the man standing to Dart’s other side, asks him conversationally.

“Cute as a button and already a bundle of mischief.” Love for his one-year-old daughter shines from his eyes. “Tyler is besotted with her, though I can’t see that lasting.”

Niran chuckles. “The eight-year age difference between them could see him getting fed up with her being in his space. Now she’s sweet, but when she starts cramping his style?” He shakes his head.

“You got experience of that?” I seem to recall he was an only child.

But it seems the background research we did on him hadn’t led us amiss. “Sister? Nah. I was an only child. But my friend had one much younger. Fought like a cat and a dog in the end. She used to follow him everywhere, cute at first, but not so much when we became teenagers.”

Dart harrumphs. “Yeah, I can see that happening. Already it’s hard catering for the age gap. Tyler wants to do things any boy of his age does, but it’s a hassle taking Isla out. You’ve no fuckin’ idea how much a one-year-old needs.”

I slap his back. “Think we do, Brother. Looks like a fuckin’ baby store when Alex brings her in—stroller, diapers, formula, changing bag, blankets, spare clothing and toys.” My voice trails off as I finish my list.

Dart laughs. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Alex coping okay?” Listing the equipment has reminded me how much work a baby must be.

“Workload’s been fairly light, and most of it she’s been able to do at home while the baby is asleep.” There’s a touch of pride in Dart’s voice.

So there should be. The Satan’s Devils had paid for Alex to complete her studies. Now she’s qualified, she’s the official club lawyer. Luckily there’s not been much trouble lately that has required much more of her help other than reviewing contracts for our businesses. Last time she was called on to help a brother in real trouble was when Truck, from Tucson, got himself locked up. Other than that there was one of Red’s crew in Las Vegas who the cops had picked up for having drunk too much and getting into a fight. Alex had stepped in and he’d been let off with a warning. I’ve a lot of respect for Dart’s old lady and I’m glad she’s working for the club.

We all stare out at the scenery for a moment. My attention is caught by a kid trying to get too close to the seals who have adopted the beach here, but her dad gets to her in time. The seals are friendly enough as long as no one disturbs them, but they must be tempting for a child.

---