Forged: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (23 page)

I’d been living and breathing Elias Walker for a solid month now, and while I’d received a few tips I was far from breaking it wide open. Hopefully tonight that would all change though. A drug dealer I’d approached spotted Elias coming and going from a seedier strip club located on the outskirts of, Boulder for the last three weeks. I’d cased the place, the information was solid, and I’d developed a plan. One I’d be putting into action tonight.

To say Brookes and Brandt were happy about it would be a fucking lie, but after many a phone call describing what I’d do in intimate detail to their manhood’s if they interfered, they relented and agreed to let me call the shots. Basically I’d convinced the owner of Jiggles, (fucking ridiculous name), to let me strip for a week in order to keep an eye on their resident creepazoid. Shorty, the owner of Jiggles, didn’t agree to my plan out of the goodness of his heart. No, this bastard would only consider it for a fee. More like a bribe, payoff, or whatever you want to call it. One Brookes approved and I paid as soon as I locked down the terms.

Elias was a regular visitor to Shorty’s fine establishment, and from the knowledge I’d gathered had been for over a month. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday Elias would come in at around nine at night and stay until after midnight if the talent kept him entertained that long. He paid for the occasional lap dance and settled his tab every night, so Shorty had no reason to view him as anything other than the paying patron he was. There were no reports he’d been rough with the girls that had given him the private dances, he followed the no touching policy, and was as close to respectful as any pervert that frequented these places could be. But none of that inspired enough confidence in me that I wouldn’t be going in packing heat, because I would be.

Simply put, I intended to go on shift at eight and stay until half an hour after Elias left for the first two nights, and then the third I would leave at the same time and follow him home. Brookes had begged me to let Liam tag along, promising me he’d stay in the background and not get involved unless he absolutely had to. I declined, told him to go suck himself off, and earned myself an ass kicking when I got back home to Dallas for my trouble, but again Brookes caved and let me play this out the way I wanted.

Needless to say, this little detour to bail Rob’s stupid ass out of a situation he should never have put himself in is the last thing I need, but I made Thomas a promise, and I always kept my promises.

“What,” I barked into the phone. I was in a shitty mood, bored, and couldn’t wait to get out of Blackwater. I’d been here too long, and the last thing I wanted was to be stuck here indefinitely, so excuse me for being extra snappy.

The soft chuckle that came through the line had me almost hyperventilating. It had been years since I’d heard his voice, and he was close to the last person I’d ever expect to hear from. Rob being the last in case you hadn’t guessed that one.

“Good morning to you too, Buttercup. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Like he didn’t know. A bit like he knew how much I hated when he called me Buttercup and still did it anyway. The dick.

“Sorry, what should I have said? Nice to hear from you after so long, or good morning my little ray of sunshine. Fuck that. I haven’t heard from you in forever, Thomas, what do you want?”

Hmm, so maybe I was a little angrier about their departure than I’d originally let on, but whatever. He wasn’t calling me to catch up, so why not just cut to the chase.

“You’re pissed, I get that. I would be too after the people I cared about fucked off with no word. But you know how it was, and you know we both needed to get the fuck out of there so give me a break, yeah?”

Uh-huh, because it’s that easy I muse rolling my eyes.

“Sure, a break, sounds good. Now what do you want? I’ve got important shit like painting my nails and washing my hair to do.”

That earns me another chuckle, but this one sounds more forced than the last. Like he’s trying too hard. Clearing his throat Thomas remind me of my words from years ago.

“You remember when you made me that promise? The one where you said you’d be there if I ever called and told you I needed you? Well, I fucking need you now, Buttercup. Rob needs you now.”

My heart thuds in my chest and I have to focus on slowing my rapid breathing so I don’t give away my fear at hearing Rob needs help. Taking a second, I get myself under control before asking,

“Yeah, I remember. What do you need?”

“Rob fucked up. He got attached to the wrong woman, and now the husband has got him holed up in some shit shack safe house just south of Blackwater, ready to do fuck knows what with him if I can’t get him out,” Thomas replies raggedly.

“The husband wouldn’t happen to be a member of Devil’s Spawn MC would he? You know, the club would’ve found yourself a member of for the last what, ten, twelve years,” I snap.

This would be the time I confess to keeping tabs on Thomas. Well, as soon as I knew he was there thanks to Liam prospecting with the MC that is. And yes, I figured that where Thomas was Rob would be sure to follow, eventually, and I was right.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

Now it’s my turn to chuckle.

“Not really the point now is it? What do you actually need me to do, Thomas? Spell it out, because seriously, I have shit to do and it’s time sensitive.”

He sighs saying,

“I need to know if you’ve got any sway with the club. You know, with Liam being patched in recently, and the dealings the clubs had with your brothers. I need to know if you can pull any strings so we can get this dealt with, quietly if possible.”

Hearing the catch in his voice I prompt him further.

“But that’s not all is it? You need more than that don’t you?”

“Yeah, Buttercup. Yeah, I do.” He’s hesitant to ask me for more, I know that, so I let him take the time he needs to gather his courage. “I need you to stash him somewhere after you get him out as well. Rob can’t stay in town after he’s set free, and I’ve got ties here so it can’t be me who does it. I’ve got a woman, babies, and a life here. I can’t just take off with him until the shit fight he’s created dies down. I need your help, Aly. Please.”

So, with that one word, please, I agree to help the colossal dick that is Rob and cash in the favor I promised Thomas all those years ago. I didn’t however disclose the nature of my dealings with the MC, and I wouldn’t be if I could help it. But nevertheless, I told him I’d be there within the hour, seeing as I was close and all, to help his ‘poor misunderstood’, his words not mine, friend out.

I made a few calls to secure a month-to-month apartment central to Jiggle and three exits out of town before showing up to rescue Rob. I couldn’t have him going back to my place in Blackwater after all this. It was a small two bedroom place, furnished, and the landlord was happy for me to move in with no notice, so that was the direction we were heading now. I can’t say I’m not happy about the move either. It’s closer to Jiggles, and seeing as I’m due to start there in less than five hours, the timing couldn’t be better.

Looking over at my sullen passenger I sigh keeping my eyes on the road.

“Long time no see, Robert. Other than coveting thy neighbor’s wife, what have you been doing with yourself?” That may have come out a little harsher than I’d intended it to but nothing about today has gone to plan, so what the hell, add some more fuel to the fire I say.

He’s glaring at me, I can tell. His eyes are boring into the side of my face making me feel hot all over. He used to do this back in high school too. It was one of the ways I knew he was close.

“Fuck you, Alysia. You don’t know shit about it, so keep your fucking nose out of my business.”

Ungrateful asshole.

“Sure, I’ll get right on that. Right after I save your ass from the fire, and then hide you somewhere safe so you don’t get killed for being a dumbass.” A grunt is my only reply, but I didn’t need him to add anything to the conversation so that will do just fine. “Here’s how this is going to work. I’ve got a case to finish up, and you need to say out of sight. You’ll stay with me for however long it takes for me to finish up the job I’m in town to do, and then we’ll go our separate ways. I’ve organized somewhere for us to stay, you’ve got your own room, and we won’t have to converse, see each other, or play nice if you don’t want to. Actually, I’d prefer you do your thing and I do mine. Do what you want, when you want, but do it smart. Try to blend in and stay invisible. Aside from that, I’m not your minder and I’m not going to bail your ass out if you fuck up again. This was a favor to Thomas, and after this he can consider me paid in full.”

I hate that it has to be like this. That we can’t try and regain some of the friendship we’d had before, but this man isn’t the same man I fell for years ago. He’s harder, angrier, and a lot less likeable. It’ll be best for the both of us to treat each other like strangers, and get this over and done with as fast as humanly possible.

With a grunt Rob goes back to staring out the passengers’ side window muttering,

“Fucking fine by me.”

Hardening my heart toward him even further, I turn off the memories of Rob as a teenager and focus on my job. It won’t be easy, but I’m determined not to pine for a man that is more unattainable than any I’ve ever met.

“Never go to bed angry.

Stay awake and plot your revenge.”

-
        
Rotten eCard

“Why the fuck did Alysia Patricks’ just trade in a marker worth a fuck ton more than your piece of shit friend’s life in order to save his ass? And how the fuck do you know her so well?” I demand.

When Alysia strutted her gorgeous ass, and yes, I may be married and I love the shit out of my wife, but even I’m man enough to appreciate all that woman has to offer, I all but died on the spot. Not only because she’s fucking stunning, but because Alysia has built up a reputation unrivalled by anyone. Especially in regards to Devil’s Spawn and what she’s doing for us. And her trading in her marker is a big fucking deal.

Liam might be our man on the ground, our eyes and ears when it comes to anything technical, but more than a few times he’s called his sister to do some extra digging or work on the side. None of us would’ve known he used her if the idiot hadn’t had her on speaker phone once when he was researching a prospective business associate. Priest wasn’t pissed but he did have Alysia checked out before he decided whether or not to kick Liam’s ass. And what we learned was shocking and awe inspiring to say the least.

Apparently the woman is a super spy or something similar. She’s had offers from the CIA, FBI, DEA, Secret Service, hell, pretty much every alphabet agency in the business has been knocking on her door since she got out of the Military trying to get her to work with them. According to Priest the offers would have been hard to turn down if she’d been anyone else, but Alysia Patricks’ knocked every last one back claiming to be happy doing the grunt work she was for her brothers’ private security company, EyeSee.

Alysia followed her brothers’ lead joining the Army at eighteen, almost giving her single mom of eight a stroke at her plans, and worked her ass off to become a covert counter intelligence specialist within the space of four years. She trained, studied, and busted her ass as hard, if not harder, than all the men in her unit, landing her the position of second in charge of a twelve man unit at the tender age of twenty-three. Not to mention the title of the first woman to rise that high inside the Armed services, ever. When she was discharged, honorably no less, she was the commanding officer of over thirty men, all of which were highly trained Spec Ops soldiers.

The only information we learned about why she declined to re-sign with the Army when her contract was up came from Liam, and he was hesitant to share to say the least. From what little he gave us, Alysia had been on a mission that went from bad to a clusterfuck in a hot minute, ending in a helicopter crash where most of her team perished, and she was left with horrific burns covering a large section of her leg and part of her torso. Liam wouldn’t go into any more detail than that, and we didn’t push him for it. I do know Tank took him aside and talked to him for a few hours, at which time a broken looking Liam emerged followed by a dumbfounded Tank. Later he told us Liam had confided in him the rest of what he knew, and it was one of the worst horror stories he’d heard. And he’d heard plenty from his time spent in the sandbox from hell.

The club as a whole have only met with Alysia once, and that was just recently. Priest engaged the services of EyeSee after we’d been searching for three weeks and gotten nothing on Demon’s location. Brookes had been less than happy with sending his little sister out our way to deal with a sick motherfucker that prayed on women, but with everyone else already on high profile cases or bodyguard duties he didn’t have much of a choice. Alysia was just as skilled as any of her brothers, probably more so if Brookes would ever admit it, but that didn’t stop him from being the over protective big brother he’d been all her life.

After threats of consequences worse than death, which I had no doubt he’d carry out for every last member and their family’s if one hair on her gorgeous head was harmed, Brookes begrudgingly agreed to loan us her services. Mind you, no one thought to clue us into the existing relationship she had with Glock, or the asshole that was far too attached to my wife for that matter. Not even Glock, who should have known better than to hide this shit from us, said a word, hence my questions now.

“It was a long time ago, Saint. Another world, another lifetime, I didn’t think it mattered. She’s fucking good at her job, and has gotten more information in a couple of weeks than we’d got on our own in nearly two months. What does it matter if I knew her years ago or not? I don’t know her now, and it’s not going to interfere with her finding this prick so just let it go, yeah?” He urges impatiently.

“You sure she’s going to get that asshole out of town and away from my wife? Because I’ve gotta say, I’m not going to hold back if I see him hanging around anywhere he’s not wanted again, brother.” And it’s true, I won’t. If I find him anywhere near Tilly again I’ll put him to ground without a second thought.

Chuckling at my question Glock replies,

“Oh, brother, I can assure you of it. If there’s anyone who’ll keep Rob gone for good, it’s Alysia. You won’t be seeing him around again, even if she has to handcuff him to the sink he’ll stay gone. Trust me.”

Interesting. I’m sensing there’s history there, but I couldn’t care less what their deal is as long as Rob holds up his end of the bargain and stays gone. That brings me full circle to the current problem we’re facing.

“What’s going on with her putting her plan into action? Is she still going ahead with that tonight?”

“Haven’t heard any different, brother. I assume we’d have heard from Priest if plans had changed, so I’d say it’s still a definite go.”

I fucking hope so. Tilly hasn’t been eating, sleeping, or dealing with this shit well, and I’d love nothing more than to be able to go home and tell her we’ve got the bastard responsible for torturing her all those years ago, but I can’t. We’ve got nothing. Alysia is our last shot at finding him before he finds us. Something none of us want but have come to realize is a very real possibility.

“Who’s on Jiggles tonight then?” I enquire.

Priest, taking what Brookes said very seriously, decided it best to have at least three men, preferably four, stationed in and around the strip club Alysia would be working at for safety reasons. She’s in charge and would be the one calling for backup if needed, but Priest wanted that backup local, not half an hour or more away. Alysia didn’t know it yet, but she was about to have a whole boat load of bikers eager to assist in any way possible if she said the word. I’ve got no doubt she’s going to be pissed as hell about it, but she’s a professional and will get over it when she sees the benefit of having us at her back.

“You, Tank, Dagger, and I are taking tonight. Reaper, Pipe, Liam, and Shifty are on Thursday, and fuck knows who’s doing Saturday, but I figure Priest will tell whoever needs to know when they need to know it. We’ll head out around seven. She goes on shift at eight, and we’ll hang around till she leaves. Priest didn’t give me anything other than that to go on, so I figure one of us will follow her to make sure she gets home okay. Only it’ll be Tank, Dagger, or I doing it, not you. If she’s got Rob with her, I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

Fair enough. That’s definitely a plan I can get behind. As much as I’m grateful to Alysia for helping, and would be happy to assure her safety at any cost, seeing Rob again this soon would be a recipe for disaster and we both know it.

“Sounds good. I’m gonna go home and see my woman and kids before we head out then. Meet you at the clubhouse, yeah?”

Tipping his head, Glock mounts his bike and heads back toward Blackwater. Turning I survey the safe house, pack up the last of my tools and head out too. I don’t know how far I was planning to take Rob’s ass kicking, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have been walking away from it with the broken nose, black eye, and few broken ribs he did if it’d been left up to me. Glock stepping in and getting Alysia involved was honestly probably the only thing that had spared Rob’s life. I might not like taking a man’s life, watching the light drain from his eyes, but when it comes to Tilly and our relationship I’d do anything, and I mean anything, to make ensure no one took her from me.

Rob didn’t have a hope in hell of seducing Tilly away from me, but the fact he’d tried, and me knowing he’d thought about it was more than enough cause for me to lose my fucking mind and have me seeing red. Did I want to kill him? Yes. Did I want to hurt him for thinking he could come between us? Fuck, yes. But in the end do I honestly believe I’d have followed through with it? Probably not. But that’s not a solid no is it?

After dinner with my favorite girls, helping to bath Avery and Nevie, a quick but hot make out session with my wife in the pantry, and two bedtime stories later, I meet the guys at the clubhouse where we made the trek to Boulder in record time.

Jiggles is a fucking dive of a strip club, and seeing it in person it’s so much worse than the pictures that showed up online. The neon sign is faded, some of the letters not even lighting up anymore. The exposed brickwork on the front of the building is cracked and chipping away in big sections, making the place look more dilapidated than it’s probably twenty or so years. Two large bouncers are positioned at the front entrance guarding the place, checking ID, and opening the door, but they’re no more than glorified monkey’s in suits. Neither one of them could run to save their lives on account of the sheer amount of steroids they’ve been chomping down for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Both big, burly, and over muscled, what they obviously don’t know is, that kind of bulk is actually a hindrance not a help.

The inside is worse if that can be believed. All the walls are painted blood red with black booths lining two walls, a bar centered on one, and the stage taking up a good portion of the fourth. Glass shelves line the wall behind the bar, five high, and the bar top is made out of some reflective mirror shit. Neon lights trim the bar top, and stools, black and silver, bolted to the floor run its length. The whole place is a cliché. Nothing here’s been taken care of, and pretty much all of the furniture, even the fake chandeliers are falling apart. I wouldn’t be surprised if the joint starts caving in on itself at any time.

Women dressed in tiny shorts barely long enough to cover the essentials, silver sequined bras, and silver stripper heels walk around serving the customers that are desperate enough to frequent a shit hole like this. Not to mention the woman currently working the pole on stage looks like she’s closer to forty than twenty, and could do with a shower and a new routine ASAP. Does she not know that fucking the stage, the pole, and herself is not sexy? It reeks of desperation, and is the furthest thing from dancing that I’ve ever witnessed. Sure, I’m all for some tits and ass, but when you look like you need a full body lift, a good twenty pounds of meat on your bones, and have the curves of an adolescent, you might as well give up the ghost and move the fuck on.

I spot a hallway off to the left of the bar that I can only assume leads to the private rooms where more intimate lap dances are given, and I remind myself to tell Dagger to keep a close eye on the men coming and going from that direction. Speak of the devil. Dagger leans over so I can hear him over the music and yells,

“This place is a fucking dive, man, but I can see why he’d come here. No one would notice an asshole like him showing up in a place like this. And I can pretty much guarantee no one would care what happened to the girls who work here if something did. They look like they’re too fucked up to know what’s going on themselves.”

He’s not wrong. From what I’ve seen of the ten or so women making their rounds on the floor and the one on stage, all these women look haggard, worn out, and used up. I’d bet the asshole that owns this place thought he’d struck gold when Alysia applied to work here. Nodding to a free booth in one of the darker corners of the club I gesture them toward it.

“Fucking junkies. Let’s sit and work out who’s going where before she comes out, yeah?”

Tank, Glock, and Dagger follow my lead all taking seats in the semi-circular booth at alternating positions making sure every entry, exit, and corner are monitored. Fuck, I’m glad Priest send four of us. It’ll be a damn sight easier to keep an eye on shit than with the original two we’d discussed in the very beginning.

Tank starts, and as usual when Tank talks, everyone listens.

“Talked to Alysia earlier, she’s using the stage name Buttercup. Don’t know why, but that was what she said.” At that Glock almost busts a gut laughing, earning him a swift kick from Tank, and matching glares from Dagger and I.

Throwing his hands up in surrender he chokes out,

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that’s what I used to call her back in the day, and it doesn’t surprise me one bit that girl would pick something like that to have a dig at me.”