The Soldiers of Wrath MC 1 Owned by the Bastard (15 page)

“Okay.”

Before she said anything else, he left her alone, heading downstairs. Joker was entering the clubhouse as Demon made his way down the stairs. Steel and Shakes were already there, drinking coffee.

“What’s up, Demon?” Joker asked. He looked awful, as if he’d not slept in days.

“I’m heading over to Deanna’s old apartment to pick up some shit. You want to come with?”

“Sure.” Joker opened the door, ready to leave.

“Road trip? Can I come?” Shakes got to his feet, looking way too excited.

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” Demon asked.

“Nothing. We’ve not rode in a few days. I’m missing it.”

Rolling his eyes, Demon looked toward Steel. “You want to come too?”

“Now that you ask so nicely.” Steel jumped to his feet following them outside.

Demon didn’t say anything as he straddled his bike. He didn’t bother with his helmet. The need to feel the open road was too strong for him to be trapped under the confines of a helmet.

Driving out of the clubhouse, he saw Deanna was standing at the door. She was dressed in only his shirt and it looked like she’d followed him down. The sight of her twisted his gut.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he focused on the road and winding around the bends without causing himself a serious injury. He loved the thrill of the ride more than anything.

They stopped at a diner a few miles from Deanna’s apartment. He needed to take a leak and eat something. Entering the bathroom, he saw Joker follow him inside.

“What’s going on?” Joker asked.

Pulling his dick out, Demon blew out a breath. “I don’t fucking know.”

“It’s with Deanna, isn’t it? She means something?”

“Yeah, she means something. What, I don’t actually know but it means something.” He stared at the wall in front of him.

“None of the club would think less of you if you decided to lay claim to her.”

Demon wasn’t worried about the club or what they’d think if he decided to take Deanna as his woman.

“She’s not for the lifestyle.”

“Are you sure about that?” Joker asked. “She seems to have taken to it to me.”

“You think?”

“She hasn’t run off scared yet. I’d take that as a sign that there’s a lot more grit to her.”

He’d not thought of it like that.

Finishing his business, he washed his hands and headed out. Steel and Shakes had ordered them each a burger with fries. They ate quickly, all of them wanting to get Deanna’s crap and be gone.

Within no time at all they were back on their bikes and heading toward Deanna’s apartment.

Demon paused as he took in the rundown area.

“Fuck me, Demon. She was living in a fucking shithole,” Steele said.

Her father had been living a better life than Deanna. Demon didn’t like it nor did he like the abandoned look to the area.

“Come on. Let’s get her stuff and go.”

He climbed off his bike and started to walk toward the building. Opening the door, he went up to the first floor. Demon froze when he saw her door was open. She hadn’t said anything about a roommate. Warning his three men, he pulled the gun out of the back of his jeans that he always kept there. Pulling the safety off, he slowed his pace until he got to the door.

Kicking the door with force, he charged into the room with Joker, Steel, and Shakes at his back.

Guns went off and Demon yelled for his men to get down.

Chaos ensued until someone called, “Enough.”

The firing stopped.

“Fuck, Demon, I’m hit.” Glancing toward Joker, Demon saw a bullet had gone into his shoulder.

“Anyone else hit?” Demon asked.

“No,” Steel and Shakes called out at the same time.

“The president of the Soldiers of Wrath is in my company. This is a real treat.”

Raising his gun to stare at the man who sat at Deanna’s dinner table, Demon focused on him. He wore an expensive looking business suit, a smile filled with evil deeds, and several men stood at his back with guns trained on them. This was not your average businessman.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m, well, I’m an investor of sorts. A businessman always looking for an investment.” He held his hands out as if it was a natural conversation to be having with guns trained on each other.

Joker got to his feet with his gun still trained on the man in front.

“I’m not interested in any fucking investment,” Demon said. He never trusted men in suits. They were fucking dangerous.

“No?”

“No.”

“Well, you see, I’ve got a problem as I paid Deanna’s father quite handsomely with the understanding that she’d come and work for me.” The man before him crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees.

Demon didn’t like this. “You’re a fucking pimp?”

“I like to think more of a contractor who helps women to stay safe.”

“A pimp.”

“Well, you see, I’ve got a problem as I gave her father a lot of money.” The man tapped his fingers on the table. Someone placed a video player on the table with the screen facing him. On the screen was the inside of Deanna’s father’s house. More importantly, his murder played out. Demon tightened his hold on the gun as he watched Deanna struggle for breath. “You see, I like to take proper care of everything that belongs to me.”

“Deanna isn’t for sale.”

“No, well, you see I’ve got a problem. I’m a very good businessman and I’ve got a reputation to protect. This man, this piece of shit offering me second hand goods after he’d given Deanna to you, is a problem for me. I don’t like the way it makes me look.” The man slammed the screen down with enough force that Demon was sure he heard a smash.

“What’s your name?”

“Zeke.”

Demon froze. Zeke was a well-known criminal lord of everything. He controlled everyone and everything. Soldiers of Wrath hadn’t done business with him ever but they’d heard of him. From the tensing of his men, he saw Joker, Steel, and Shakes all realize who he was.

“I see you know who I am.”

“What do you want?” Demon asked.

“Well, I’ve got a business proposition for you, Demon.” Zeke stared right back. There was no fear in his eyes. Demon had to respect that. There were not many men who’d continue a conversation with a gun trained on them.

“What?”

“I need competent people to use as bodyguards at my exclusive club. It’s a VIP club. I will leave Deanna alone if you show your alliance with me.”

“Why the fuck should I do that?” Demon asked.

“Well, I could take your club and fucking crush it, take your woman, use her until there’s nothing left, passing her from one man to another until she’s nothing but a cum bucket.”

Demon saw the true colors of Zeke. He was a man known for being brutal.

“Also, as an act of faith on my part I can give you something he wants,” Zeke said, pointing at Joker.

“There’s nothing I fucking want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“What if I can give you access to Amy’s father?” Zeke asked. Joker tightened his grip on the gun. “Ah, I see I’ve struck a cord. It’s bad business, you know, raping and abusing your underage daughter.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Joker said, losing his shit right in front of him.

Reaching out, Demon blocked Joker from doing anything stupid. “We need to have a talk.”

“Take your time but remember there really isn’t an option here, gentlemen. I can fuck you all up or I can make life easy for you.”

Grabbing Joker, Demon headed out of the room with Steel and Shakes at his back. “What the fuck was that about?”

Joker paced, completely oblivious to his bleeding arm.

“Amy, she’s my step-sister.”

“The woman you’ve just gone to see for your dad?”

“Yeah. Bad shit happened to her. I don’t know the complete details, I never asked. I only know that her father was put away for physically abusing her. I don’t know his name or anything else. Brenda and Amy kept that information to themselves.”

“You want to know where he is?” Demon asked.

“I want to murder the bastard for putting his hands on Amy, yes.”

There wasn’t anything he could do. If he denied Zeke’s request, he put the club at risk. What the fuck was he supposed to do?

D
eanna was dressed
and sitting outside of the clubhouse. Demon and a few of his men had left just ten minutes ago, and although she had always wanted this freedom from her father, from the shitty apartment she lived in, and the equally crappy job she worked at, she couldn’t deny that the clubhouse made her feel safe. Yes, it was a compound of sorts, with fencing around the perimeter to keep out trespassers, she should have felt like she was in a prison, but she didn’t. In fact she felt safer and protected here, more than she had ever felt at any time in her life.

The sound of the remaining club members could be heard from the open doorway. She glanced over her shoulder and saw one of the guys standing in the doorway, smoking a cigarette and staring at her. After a few more seconds he inhaled, flicked the smoke away, and exhaled. He tipped his chin toward her, and then headed back inside. The bench she sat on was old, scarred, and was situated under a tree that was probably as old as this town. There had been a prospect guarding the front gate, although she wasn’t sure why someone needed to watch what was going on because it was locked. But he had gone into the clubhouse about ten minutes before, and she could imagine that he was getting drunk and sleeping with the sweet butts.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of the fresh air and flowers. Although the clubhouse was mainly atop a thick slab of asphalt, there was a patch of grass out front, with this one tree and a bench. The cigarette butts that were in this metal tin beside the bench ruined the peaceful effect she was going for. She opened her eyes, and instantly the flash of something shiny had her lifting her arm to shield the light.

A dark car parked right in front of the gate, and the tinted windows hid whoever was inside. As the car idled there, no one moving out of it, and the car not driving off, she stood. Should Deanna go inside? Maybe they were lost? Although the latter didn’t sit well with her, and she took a small step back. The gate was only a few feet from her, and when she looked over her shoulder she saw that no one stood at the doorway.

She heard the car window roll down, and the sight of a barrel of a gun flashed right before she could move or scream. Whatever they had shot her with went right into her neck. Lifting her hand, she pulled out a small dart. The world spun instantly, and she thought about Demon, and how she wasn’t ready to leave his side yet. The last thing she saw was someone climbing out of the backseat of the luxury car, wearing all black, and walking toward the gate.

Demon stood in
the hallway of Deanna’s building, pissed and ready to fucking kill someone. One of Zeke’s men came out of the apartment, his black trench coat and sunglass making the motherfucker look like the grim reaper.

“Zeke wants to speak with you,” the asshole said in a bland, “don’t even fucking think about saying no” voice.

Demon stared at the prick, about to tell him to screw off, but in the end he knew that when it came to Zeke, the Soldiers of Wrath weren’t as damn twisted. Zeke had power and money, and a whole lot of manpower behind him in several cities. He owned businesses across the state, and Demon had heard several stories about the man and his tactics for getting what he wanted. They were sick and deranged, fucked up to the nth degree. When it came to Demon and his club going after what they wanted, yeah, they were brutal in acquiring it, but they didn’t mess around. They beat the shit out of people that screwed with them. Zeke, on the other hand, was the type of man that pulled fingernails off with a pair of pliers and blowtorched skin while still wearing his expensive-as-shit designer suit.

Demon went back into the apartment, and his boys followed close behind. If shit got bad up in here, the MC might not be able to come out victorious, but they sure as hell would make these bastards hurt.

Zeke was still sitting at the table, and two of his guys were still behind him, looking like they should be in some fucking Matrix movie with their dark clothes and black sunglasses.