Devil's Girl(40)

“Maybe he’ll get careless,” Mort said.

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

Bill finally spoke. “That settles it. We ride.”

Fists banged the table. I jumped. “You ride? Where?”

“Their president is the key. Who knows how much he’s aware of. I do know he wouldn’t want his strip club treated like a fucking rape camp and run into the ground. Theo. Your prisoner. We need to find their president’s location as soon as possible.”

Theo nodded. “I’m on it.”

“Gunner, I want your ugly face with me. And Anchor. Mort, you hold down the fort. Stay on top of security. I’m giving you the authority to spend club funds as you see fit while I’m gone.”

“On it,” he said, scratching his beard.

“Bars, replace your fucking bike and get your ass out to that strip joint. Stay at the motel and watch the road. I want to know if there’s any big club movements while we’re away.”

“What about their shipments?” Bars asked. “With us scattering like this, their trucks will be getting through.”

Bill shook his head. “The maniac’s using explosives. We have to let them go.” They all stood. Bill pointed at Theo. “You get that info, and then you take care of her, got it? I wouldn’t put it past that fuck to try to get her back out of spite.” He snorted. “Hell, maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll try. Then you can snap his damn neck.” They filed out, leaving me alone with Theo.

“Where’d you hide your prisoner?” I asked.

His grin was grim. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“Where?”

“Your truck.”





Dawn had driven my truck after the bikers as they prepared their ambush. When she led Irish to safety and happened upon me, Theo found the truck empty. He bound his prisoner and after loading him up into the truck under gunfire, drove it off and left it in the woods, then returned on foot for his bike and came looking for me.

It had all just taken too long. The club was gone by the time he reached the road.

“So, he’s in the woods somewhere.” I followed Theo outside under the watchful eye of the hired security guard. Mort followed - he’d sit with me at home until Theo could return.

“That’s right. Hopefully getting eaten up by nothing bigger than the mosquitoes.” Theo swung a leg over his bike, and I climbed on behind him. We took off with Mort following. I was feeling sick - like I had the flu - but it wasn’t as awful as I was afraid it would be. Yet.

I paced my apartment after Theo dropped me off. Mort sat on my couch and flipped through the television and channels and watched me go, wearing down a path in the old carpet.

“It’s making me tired just watching you,” he said. “Sit down for a minute.” I didn’t hear him at first. I was so wrapped up inside my own head. Above all I felt bereft. I wanted Theo there with me. He promised. He swore it and he meant it and now he’s not here. “Dammit, girly, sit your ass down!”

I dropped onto the couch with a huff.

“Now I want you to listen. No one told me this back when I needed to hear it, so I’m telling you now, ‘cause I’m a nice guy.” He smirked. I tried to smile back. “You’re just detoxing. You’re not going to die. It’s gonna feel like a bad flu and its not gonna let you sleep, but you’re gonna get through it.”

I sighed and put my head in my hands. “I’m just scared,” I admitted.

“I know. It’s like the world’s ending, right?”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“That’ll pass, too. Might take longer. But you were only on the stuff for what… two weeks? Little more?”

“I honestly have no idea how long I was there.” I tucked my feet under myself, sitting in a ball. “I don’t know. I don’t think that this… world ending feeling will pass. I’ve seen some shit, Mort. Done some shit…” I trailed off.

“Well.” His voice was gruff, obviously uncomfortable. Like a good friend, though, he didn’t back away. “Afraid I don’t have much advice there. But I’ll tell you, Theo was like a man possessed by demons. By the Devil we wear itself. Want to know what advice the old president gave me?”

I cracked a small smile. “Sure.”

“Long time ago,” he went on. “Back when I ‘saw some shit,’ as you phrased it. He said the best way to get over something was to get under someone.” He scratched his beard. “Come to think of it, that might be godawful advice. I can’t tell. Works at least temporarily, though.”