Page 10 of Being Lost

I let that question ride for now. If they have brought it on themselves, I’ll have to have a discussion with Demon as to whether or not we help them out. My gut feel is that we leave them to deal with any fallout.

“Not going to protect their asses if they’ve brought trouble on themselves.” Dart looks angry, as he voices what’s on my mind. “I’ve got a fuckin’ family and don’t want men like Alder sniffing around. Nearly lost Alex once, I’m not going to risk losing her again.”

“I hear you, Brother.” I give him a sharp nod.

Blaze looks around, his eyes narrowed. “I hear you, brothers. But aren’t you forgetting one thing? We might not be close neighbours of the Colorado chapter, but they’re brothers all the same. I respect their wishes as much as I fuckin’ would any of ours.” I tilt my head, wondering where he’s going with this. “It’s fuckin’ hard going into WitSec. Sure, they should have been more careful if they gave themselves away, but I can’t see how we could step back and not help.”

Dart wipes a hand over his face, then he seems to deflate. He turns to me. “Prez, this chapter rode by my side when I needed to save Alex, and my patch was still Tucson’s then. Blaze has a good point. They’re under the protection of the Satan’s Devils, and whatever the reason they’re in danger, Satan’s Devils should help them out.” Dart’s the only one of us with an old lady, let alone kids to keep safe. His worry is understandable. What he’s said though, strikes a chord.

Smoker coughs, then says quietly, “Hear, hear.”

Bones wipes his nose. “The road captain and VP make good points. Don’t see how we can keep out of this.”

Token raises his chin. “Someone’s found out our chapter’s involvement, and that’s what I don’t like. But the immediate question has to be the content of the message. It didn’t suggest a threat to us as a club, but instead offered a suggestion. Are we going to act on it?”

Again my hand raps on the table, then I come to a decision. “Okay. First, I’m going to call Demon. Token, got faith in you, Brother, but maybe talk to your counterpart Cadaver in Colorado? Join forces to see if we can smoke this contact out? Demon’s got an iron in this fire, so he won’t want to be in the dark. Not when it’s the family of one of his member’s old lady’s that’s at risk.”

“I’m cool with talking to Cad.” Token grins. I don’t doubt he is, likewise with Mouse in Tucson, and Keys in Vegas. All the tech guys like talking to people who speak the same language.

We need information. At the moment we’re working blind and digging through records will only get us so far. I need to go to the source and see what I can find out. “I’ll go visit the Forsters and see if the leak came from them. Yeah, Salem, I know what you’re going to say. Maybe someone’s dangling a threat in front of us because they suspect our connection. I’ll take every precaution to ensure I’m not followed, but it’s a risk I need to take. I’m not leaving this club exposed without knowing what we’re up against.” I grin. “Not that I’m exactly up with all the cloak and dagger stuff, but I’ll take a car, leave my cut behind, and go visit them under the cover of darkness. See whether either of them has fucked up.”

“I can get you a wig as a disguise, Prez.”

Now Kink’s comment, of course, raises a laugh. As the discussion starts about whether I should be a blond or brunette and whether I should don a dress, I kick back my chair. I’m still shaking my head as I walk out, leaving the rest of them to it.

Chapter Four

Patsy

Dan’s working a late shift again. I put out of my mind what I did that night last week when he was working late, knowing I’ll never dare do that again. It hadn’t helped much in any event.

It’s when he’s out in the evenings I feel most alone. Not so much during the daytime as I’d gotten used to Beth being at work. But when she wasn’t out with her friends or doing her own thing, we’d curl up next to each other on the couch, open a bottle of wine and watch a movie or some reality show where we poked fun at the contestants. Sometimes we’d just read, or I’d sit sewing while she told me about her day. Doing the same thing on my own is so different. If I’m truthful, even when Dan is home, it’s not the same. My son doesn’t want to talk about the same things or want to watch the same kind of movies. More often than not, he holes up in his room playing computer games.

I’m not rethinking coming with my son, but what had seemed so easy back then has been infinitely harder than I expected. I feel like I’ve been put in solitary.

Maybe I should join a club or something, get to know people here? But what club would I join? My one hobby, sewing, has become my full-time job, and having a break is my form of relaxation. A book club? Perhaps, but would I find one who likes the same books as I read? I’ve no idea what to look for. Fitness classes? I huff a laugh. That’s not for me.

Tonight I’m sitting, stuffing chocolates into my mouth while simultaneously feeling guilty for indulging. I’m staring at a program on the television which isn’t holding my interest. It’s the kind I used to watch with Beth, but without her sassy comments, I find it flat and boring. Instead of concentrating on what’s going on onscreen, I’m wondering what I should do with my life now that my best friend, my daughter, isn’t in it. I never expected it would be this hard to make a new life. My problem is, my old one was so comfortable. Trying to move on is like breaking in a new pair of shoes which you know will never replace your favourites.

Just as I’m reaching for the television remote to change the channel, I’m startled by an unfamiliar sound, well, at this time of the evening anyway. It’s the doorbell chiming.

I’m not expecting anyone.

Maybe it’s a solicitor or someone coming to the wrong house? While I don’t feel any particular need to worry, it’s been ingrained in me to be cautious, so I glance through the peephole before opening the door.

It’s a man who I don’t recognise, certainly not one of the neighbours who could feasibly have knocked. He’s the type that if I’d ever come across him before, he’d have been etched in my mind. Not young, approaching my age, perhaps, but while his hair is greying, his eyes are sharp, and his features handsomely arranged. He looks well built, a tidy beard on his jaw, and his clothes, though casual, are clean.Who is he?And more to the point?Why is he here?There’s something inherently dangerous about him that makes me feel uneasy.

Could he be a friend of Dan’s? But he didn’t mention anyone would be coming around. He certainly isn’t in or even close to my son’s age group, and like me, Dan is wary about giving anything about us away, and wouldn’t have told anyone our address.

Deciding discretion is the better part of valour, I tiptoe away from the door.I’ll pretend no one’s in.

Returning to the living room, which is at the rear of the house, I switch off the television, then take a seat out of view of the windows.

He’ll go away when the door remains closed.

What’s that?I strain my ears. I thought I’d heard a sound. I must be imagining things. Then I leap to my feet as I hear something else, the clump of boots on the wooden floor right here in my hall.

I freeze to the spot as I hear a voice grumble, “Your lock is shit. I picked it in like five seconds flat.”

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