Page 19 of Devil's Work: Dark

“‘The Bible Belt Killer has struck again,’” I read the announcement word for word. “‘A body was discovered outside Morgantown in Butler County, Kentucky today. An investigation is underway. Local authorities are working closely with the FBI.’” I swallow hard. This is too real. “Dark, he’s in Kentucky now.”

“I know. I’ll get the brothers on it. Every woman associated with the club needs a guard until this fucker is caught.” He pulls his phone from his pocket to make his call. “Brother,” he says. “You seen the news?” He pauses. “Party going on?” Another pause. “Right. Sarge’s friend. Nah. That fucker—the Bible Belt Killer—he’s in Kentucky now. Hit Butler County. Not trusting a prospect to her safety. Dusty up there at the club?” An even longer pause. “Need someone on her. All the women of the club need protection.” After the last pause, he says, “Right. Talk to you soon.”

“There a party going on?” I ask.

He shrugs. “There’s always a party. There’ll be others.”

“And how many are you going to have to miss out on until my problem is dealt with? Send a prospect down and go have fun.”

“Woman, Isaidthere’ll be other parties. Where do we go in case of a tornado or some shit?”

“There’s an empty crawlspace under the trailer. It’s on a slab of cement. That’s the best I’ve got. But you’ll need to go next door to make sure Miss Mable gets under her trailer. She’s too old to get down there by herself.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t argue. I thought for sure he’d bitch at me. Miss Mable’s a good person, though. Good people deserve help, even from surly bikers.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. I bet it’s humid as hell outside right now. I’m glad to have the air running.

By the time the movie ends, it’s storming outside, buckets of rain pelting the roof of the trailer. The wind blows hard against the windows. She might be an older trailer, but she’s sturdy. I stand to stretch.

“Thank you for this. I haven’t just vegged out watching a movie in years.”

He nods but doesn’t answer verbally.

“Okay, well, I’m heading off to bed. Remember, if the tornado siren goes off, you get to Miss Mable while I get the kids into the crawlspace.”

This is weird. His eyes have grown all dark and intense. His stare weighs heavy on me, heavy enough to send goosebumps up my arms. What’s going through that gorgeous head of his? I want to know but I’m too afraid to ask. Is he upset over being told what to do by a woman? Is it something else?

Like a coward, I duck my head and skulk away.

I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.

7

DARK

The trailer creaks and groans as the wind tries to pick it up off its foundation. I toss and turn, unable to get comfortable to save my life. There’s no sound coming from the hallway. They’re sleeping fine, obviously used to sleeping during storms in this metal coffin.

She needs a fucking house. Someplace with a basement. Someplace safe. Not this. The creaking grows louder, and swear to god, out of nowhere there’s a rush of noise—got caught in a hurricane once, the wind was loud enough to rupture eardrums. This is louder.

A second later, a siren pierces the night.

You’ve got to be shitting me.

It’s loud. The windows are bowing. Rae runs from her room into Lacy’s. She comes out with the baby. “Go get Miss Mable,” she shouts at me before darting into Ty’s room. The wind shakes the trailer harder. Rae runs out of the kid’s room dragging a sleepy Ty toward the back door. “Miss Mable!” she yells at me again.

I startle and run over to her. “You and the kids first. Then I get Mable.” The backdoor swings open with the force of the wind practically landing me on my ass. Rain puddles on the linoleum floor. The drops pelt us like rubber bullets, stinging our skin. She and I both use our bodies to shield the kids, and it’s a damn good thing I work out or I’d never have gotten the door shut behind me.

The wind sounds like a freight train barreling down on us. Ty’s plugging his ears while the baby whimpers in my arms. She can’t open her mouth to cry or drown from the rain. We’re soaked to the bone. I hand Lacy off to Rae. She holds the kids close while I wrench the crawlspace door open. It’s so loud I can hardly hear Lacy crying, but I see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Rae shoves Ty’s back. “Get in there, bud,” she shouts to be heard. Once he’s under, she drops to her ass and begins scooting until she has to press the baby’s head down. She kisses Lacy’s head as she lays flat to not knock her head. Once she’s inside, then I run next door to grab Miss Mable.

She’s struggling out the back door when I reach her.

“Dark?” she shouts, surprised.

“Came to help you into your crawlspace.”

“The ceiling collapsed,” she shouts louder. Her nightdress whips around her wrinkled legs. “There’s a hole in my kitchen.”

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