Dealing with the Devil (12 page)

“Lucy?”

“Just be there!” Lucy hung up. Stalking out of the pharmacy, she took a shaky breath. After composing herself as much as possible, she headed toward the city limits. Darkness was starting to fall but she didn’t care. This mattered more. Her unborn child mattered more. Even if it meant fighting dirty.

* * *

Errol was overrun with bikers.

Anita frowned as she sat on her porch, listening to the thunderous rumble of engines in the distance. The machine hum could be heard all day and all night now. Between Los Santos, the Redhawks, the Nightriders, and the Devil’s Own from out of town, there was always someone motoring around town.

The lodge was way over capacity, the bed and breakfast housing the MC’s most important leaders was booked solid. Even rooms at the clubhouse were occupied. It had taken the prospects half a week to clean out the mess Danny had made at the Hardings but now that it was done, Archie and Danny holed up there. Even with that accomplished, there were still MC members without a place to go and the prospects were forced to take the overflow into their own homes. Everyone was on edge. Disaster was imminent. No one felt that more acutely than the people who called Errol home…

Winding her way through the backyards of friends and neighbors, Anita stared along the pathway she’d spent the summers running. She could almost picture Lucy standing out on the front porch, Danny chasing after her with threats to feed her to a garden snake; Archie pretended to play along but Anita knew he would have protected Lucy at any cost. Not all that much had changed, she supposed.

Anita climbed the stairs to the Harding’s back door and rapped sharply. A train whistle blew in the distance and she turned away just long enough for a pair of strong arms to wrap around her waist. She cried out, sending a sharp elbow into the faceless assailant’s stomach. “Stop it!”

“Anita!” Mort’s breath was knocked out of him as she lashed out. “Shit, it’s just me!”

Anita whirled around, her neat braid snapping around like a whip. Her expression bordered on murderous. “I hope you learned your lesson, Mortimer Lally! You don’t sneak up on a woman like that, especially with every biker in three states hanging around here!” Her hands rested on her hips as she frowned at him sternly but it was really hard to stay mad. Mort looked so apologetic. His big blue eyes were soft and sorrowful as hung his head in shame.

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry…” He leaned in, nuzzling her neck before he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Make it up to you later?” Mort stole another kiss—this time on the lips—and he smirked as she leaned into it. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he gazed lovingly into her eyes. “You shouldn’t be here, pumpkin. There’s too much going on. Go home and I’ll come by later.”

“Damn right you will,” Anita huffed and allowed the barest hint of a smile to cross her features. “But I’m not here for you. I need to speak with Archie and Danny.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.” Mort lowered his voice. “Danny’s a wreck. Archie had to knock him out last night because he wanted to go off after Lucy himself. It’s been real nasty lately. Everybody’s on edge…”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then.” Anita rapped sharply on door and waited with her arms crossed.

Archie was in the middle of yet another
How I Met Your Mother
rerun when he was dragged out of his thoughts. Lumbering to the door, he was poised to give Mort the verbal lashing of his life. The man was loyal, Archie would give him that, but he was a klutz. Mort had tripped over his own shoelace and nearly knocked out his own front teeth in front of Rogelio Santos two nights ago. It wouldn’t do to have anyone thinking his club was made up of people who couldn’t even walk without taking a nosedive. When he realized it was Anita on his doorstep, uneasiness crept into his chest. “Don’t tell me you’re here to arrest somebody.”

“I’m a judge, not a cop.” Anita pushed her way inside and headed into the living room. Danny was snoring loudly and she turned to Archie, “Vodka?”

“Allergy meds…I put them
in
the vodka. He’s been out for a while. I can tell he’s not dead because people four streets down can hear him snoring.” Archie pulled out a kitchen chair and motioned for her to sit. “I appreciate you helping us out with that treaty, Anita, but I’m not in a position to return any favors right now.”

“I don’t need any favors. I’m here because I got a call from an old friend of mine…well, my ex-husband, actually.” Anita cleared her throat. “That’s a long story…but anyway, Steve told me he got a call from a girl he met at a bar. Said her name was Lucy Archer and she’s trying to get the fuck away from the Black Jacks.”

Archie’s legs felt weak and he stumbled to the table. “Steve Ellis? Short, WASP-y looking bastard?”

“That’s the one,” Anita grimaced. “Lucy contacted him to look into some family records. Errol’s such a small place that most of our records are handwritten and stored down at Town Hall.” She paused, lacing her fingers together before she spoke again. “Louisa Calaveras married Edmond Harding in 1983. According to one of the documents, Louisa had five siblings, two brothers who passed early on in life. But there were four girls: Maya, Roberta, Louisa…and Sofía.”

“Sofía? As in…” Archie felt his stomach turn over.

“Sofía Calaveras married Hector Salma several years earlier…” Anita pressed. “I did some digging and it’s true, Archie. The woman you’re going after is Lucy and Danny’s aunt.” She sat up straighter. “You don’t have to worry that storming the Bastille will cause tension, though. Lucy also mentioned she wants to prosecute Sofía for fraud, extortion, kidnapping, and assault.”

“Assault?” Archie’s chest tightened painfully, “Did that bitch hurt Lucy?”

“No, but apparently there is a girl named Cecelia whose face is all scarred up after she tried to escape the Black Jacks’ compound.” Anita patted Archie’s hand. “Steve said that the meeting was brief. They communicated using handwritten notes in case someone was listening in…she’s doing okay, Archie. She’s strong.”

Archie let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “It’s going to be a few more days. I just need Tim and Rogelio to agree on their entry points into the compound. From what we’ve learned, their headquarters are a fortress.” He frowned, “The White House doesn’t even have that much security. They’ve got guns, tear gas, grenades…and a whole shitload of guards.” He rested his palms on the table. “I got my boys their Christmas presents early. Every one of my members has a bulletproof vest.”

“I hope you got them for the prospects too.” Anita stared down her nose at him.

“Anita—”

“Don’t you ‘
Anita
’ me, Archer! It is not every day you meet a man who’s sweet, caring, and who also knows how to please a woman in bed. If that big lug does not come home to me because you cheaped out and refused to buy three more vests, I will bury you in so much red tape that your club will never open its doors again!”

Archie made a face. “That was way more information that I needed…” He muttered. “
Fine
, I’ll order vests for the prospects.” That seemed to satisfy Anita for the moment. She stood up and headed for the door. Reaching out, Archie grasped her wrist. “Hey, thank you for bringing this to me. I didn’t realize the lawyer was
your
Steve.”

Anita smiled sadly. “He hasn’t been
my
Steve for a long time.” She tugged her jacket tighter around herself because of the slight chill in the early September breeze, not because she needed comfort… “I told him to look out for Lucy and keep his mouth shut about this. I don’t want anyone to know Lucy’s related to this bitch.”

Danny leaned in the doorway, shirtless and still drooling slightly in his sleep. “Related to who?” He scratched his belly and chest aimlessly, his pants drooping low on his lips. They were in significant danger of sliding right off his slim hips and Anita had to force herself to look away. “What’s going on?” Danny yawned.

Anita decided it would better to defer to Archie on this one. Danny was in a very fragile state right now. Without Lucy to keep him in line, Danny was falling apart. Scurrying to the door, Anita glanced back. “You boys have a good night. I’ll be expecting my prospect home before midnight, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Archie drawled and chuckled to himself. He’d let them have their fun.

What wasn’t going to be fun was telling Danny the truth about his mother’s side of the family. He debated back and forth telling Danny about Sofía but seeing how lost he looked was the deciding factor. Archie would continue to reassure Danny his sister was fine and look after him until they brought her home safe. “You want something to eat? I’m getting pretty good at making hotdogs.”

“A monkey could make hotdogs,” Danny huffed. “No, I’m not hungry.” Flopping down at the table, his forehead plunked onto the tabletop as his consciousness waned again.

Archie flicked off the television and headed down the hall. His childhood bedroom was completely unchanged. There were still rocket ship sheets on the bed, though they had been laundered so many times the little shapes seemed melted. His old, crinkled Harley Davidson poster hung lopsidedly on the wall above a small blue dresser. The room was cozy and quiet…but it’s not where Archie wanted to be.

Instead, he padded into Lucy’s room and sat down on the edge of her bed. She was a no frills kind of girl and her room reflected that. The walls were painted light beige and unadorned—except for a picture of her mother taped to the mirror. Sentimental items dotted her armoire. The whole place was infused with her presence.

Archie lay down, resting his head on Lucy’s pillow. He inhaled the delicate scent of her shampoo infusing the pillowcase. The confirmation she was still alive and kicking comforted him. For the first time in weeks, Archie actually felt as if he could relax. He fell asleep there, spread out on her bed, and dreamed of nothing.

Bea checked Lucy’s blood pressure again, releasing the cuff with a rush of air. “Your BP is in the toilet. It’s no wonder you feel like shit.” Pressing a hand to Lucy’s pale cheek, her frown deepened. “You’re not drinking enough.” Stalking over to the fridge, she rifled around until she came up with a sports drink and plopped a straw into it. “Small sips to start.”

Julia was sitting cross-legged on a table next to Candy, nervously chewing her thumbnail. “Is there something we can do?”

“These things pass in time,” Candy assured her. “It’s totally normal.”

Lucy ignored the crushing ache at the base of her skull; so far, nothing had alleviated the nausea that roiled inside of her. The best she could do was grin and bear it. “Candy’s right. I’m fine, Jules.” Lucy took a sip of the proffered drink and tried not to gag at the saccharin taste of it. Everyone was watching her and so she choked down another swallow before sitting up. “Look, women have been doing this for millennia. I’m pretty sure I’m not the first one to have a little morning sickness. So, let’s get back to the task at hand.”

“Luce is right,” Cecelia replied curtly. “We’ve got bigger problems. Sofía hasn’t been spotted in a few days. Last time she disappeared, she came back with Lucy. This is her pattern. I think it’s safe to assume she’s got another girl on her radar…”

“We’ve got a small window of opportunity to bust out of here. There’s no telling when she’s going to come back. There’s no time to lose.” Lucy moved to stand up but her vision swam again and Bea pushed her back against the bed before her knees buckled. Lucy dragged a deep gulp of air into her lungs. “Shit!”

Bea shook her head forcefully. “Lucy is in
no
condition to be running around right now.” She folded her arms. “I’m putting my foot down. She needs
at least
a day or two of rehydration and rest. And that’s if she doesn’t have any further nausea and vomiting, which is unlikely given how she’s been feeling. Any undue stress could complicate the pregnancy and I’m not willing to risk it. Are you?” Bea faced Cecelia—who was frowning and muttering curses under her breath. “You wanted my professional opinion and there it is. Take it or leave it.”

Silence hung between them for a moment and Lucy gathered her strength. She was the weak link; it wasn’t fair to hold them all back. “Go without me.”

“No!” Julia squealed. “We can’t!”

Cecelia shushed Julia and held up a hand before Candy could jump in. “Listen to me!” She stood up straighter to emphasize her point. “If the five of us get out, we can go to our own clubs for help…”

“You really think Los Santos, the Nightriders, and the Redhawks are going to sign on help the Devil’s Own?” Candy snorted. “Are you out of your freakin’ mind?”

Cecelia rounded on her. “Los Santos have no beef with the Devils.”

Adela had not spoken a single word since she arrived. She shifted several times before clearing her throat. Her timid voice was scratchy from disuse. “The Nightriders will put aside their blood feud to see that I am safely returned. My father is an honorable man. He can be trusted to help.”

Lucy wrapped an arm around Adela and held her close. She couldn’t imagine how frightened the little girl was; it only validated how important this was. What they were doing was the right thing. “That takes care of the Nightriders.” She peered over at Julia and Candy. “The Redhawks are friendly with the Devils. My godfather is Marco Caraway.”

“Marco is Candy’s
boyfriend
,” Julia giggled.

“He’s
not
my boyfriend!” Candy’s cheeks reddened. Marco was fifteen years her senior, not that it mattered. She’d been infatuated with him from the moment they met. They shared a couple crazy nights years ago…she’d ended it abruptly when she realized she cared a hell of a lot more than he did. Marco never called her again, proving she was right all along. More importantly, Marco didn’t know about the son they shared and Candy wanted to keep it that way. If there were any other way, she would’ve suggested it right then and there… Unfortunately nothing came to mind. “So, we bust out of here, rally the troops, and then come back for Lucy and the rest of the girls who want out of here?”

Julia bobbed her head. “It could work!”

“I also have a contact in Reno who could be helpful.” Lucy reached into her pocket and pulled Steve’s card from her pocket. “This guy knows how things are here and is willing to take a risk. If Sofía realizes you’re gone, the first place she’s going to go is to your clubs. She won’t be expecting you to have a contact on the outside. Steve can be an asset.”

Cecelia grabbed the crinkled card and frowned. “You think some pansy lawyer is the answer?” She shook her head. “For all we know, he could be a spy for Sofía.”

Lucy supposed that could be true, but her instincts told her Steve could be trusted. “So, we make sure our bases are covered. Errol is a couple hours drive from here. Get into town and my husband will help you.” She could tell Cecelia wasn’t convinced. “Archie is the President of the Devil’s Own. He’s got the power to put any plan you want into action. If you’re worried, Danny’s my brother. He can be a bit of a prick sometimes but he’s one of the good guys.” She reached out, grasping Cece’s shoulder. “He will do anything in his power to get me back.” Just saying his name made Lucy’s soul ache. “Split up. Candy and Julia can go to Steve. Cece, Bea, and Adela will go to Errol. That way, if something goes wrong, the other group can still get help for the rest of us…”

“How sure are you that this will work?” Julia didn’t look convinced.

Four sets of eyes stared Lucy down. In turn, she shifted her position. “Going in opposite directions will confuse Sofía’s security detail. This is your best shot.”

“Julia should go with Bea. Adela, Candy, and I will go to Errol,” Cecelia suggested. Julia was a sweet spirited girl and Cecelia didn’t getting caught in the crossfire if things went south in Errol. Candy could hold her own and nobody would hurt Adela while Cecelia was around. It was the best option for everyone.

“I’m in.” Bea grinned.

Adela nodded her consent swiftly.

“Me too,” Candy replied for both her and Julia.

“Then it’s settled.” Cecelia turned to the assembled group. “Candy, I need you to sneak into the guard booth. Grab the keys to a couple of the vans. Bea, we’ll need the medical stock you’ve been able to collect. Julia, bring your stash back here too. We’ll divvy it up.” Her jaw was grimly set. “Meet back here in twenty minutes.” The group hurried out, rushing to perform their duties. Lucy and Cecelia were momentarily left alone. “Are you sure about this?”

Lucy forced a smile. “I would only slow you down, Cece.” She paused, collecting her thoughts before she spoke again. “You remember that note I gave you for Danny? I want you to give it to him when you get to town. Archie is the rational one. Danny is a bit of a hothead. He’ll want proof that I’m alive before he hears a single word you’re going to say.”

Cecelia was throwing items into her bag. She mulled over Lucy’s request. “I’ll give him the message but I don’t want you to think for a second we ain’t coming back. We don’t leave our own behind.” Moving toward Lucy, Cece grabbed her shoulder. “You hang in there. Take care of that baby and don’t worry about anything else.”

Lucy hugged Cecelia tightly. “I will.” Although Cecelia and the rest of the group would be breaking out, it was Lucy who had the hardest job of all. She had to cover for them. The longer she was able to keep up appearances, the better chance the girls had of escaping without notice. “Be safe.”

“I promise.” Cecelia pulled away from Lucy just as the other girls began to filter back into the room. Julia arrived first with a bunch of items from the commissary. Although it wasn’t much, each girl was issued a Swiss army knife and several candy bars, matches, and a flashlight. Bea made up packets with sterile gauze, saline, alcohol swabs, surgical scissors, tape, and some bandages. Meanwhile, Adela had drawn everyone maps of the layout and Candy scribbled in the guard shifts and which doors it would be easiest to sneak out of. With very little effort, Candy had also obtained the keys to a couple of transport vans.

It took all of Lucy’s strength to ignore the nausea that churned in her veins as she said her goodbyes to each of the girls. “Keep your head down. It’ll all be over soon,” She urged. Lucy said a silent prayer this would work. One way or another she was going to get out of here; she just hoped for the baby’s sake, it wasn’t in a body bag.

* * *

Steve paced the length of his office, one hand wrapped around a mug of coffee and the other resting against the gun strapped to his hip. The muscle in his jaw ticked in aggravation as he replayed the series of events that led him here. It had been seven long years since his drinking ended the most meaningful relationship in his life. Anita Raleigh had such a vibrant spark; he couldn’t help but fall for her. She left a tiny town in Nevada and travelled three thousand miles to study pre-law in Boston. Although she knew no one and felt terribly out of place in a bustling city, she braved it like a champion. Watching Anita flourish under pressure was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. How could he not fall in love with her?

Sophomore year, they moved in together and Steve couldn’t imagine spending their lives apart. Even though it was reckless and stupid, they eloped before law school. Steve and Anita bought a little apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. Money was tight and that’s when the fighting began…instead of turning to his partner for support, Steve hit the bottle. The drunker he was, the less he cared about his actions and the meaner he got. Anita stayed far longer than he deserved, begging him to get help every step of the way. Steve was stubborn and unyielding…and eventually Anita gave up.

Somehow he’d tricked himself into believing she would never leave. When she finally did, the consequences were devastating. Steve spent a few days wallowing but then made the decision that his wife was more important than the booze. It took him several months to get sober. He planned on making the trek to Nevada and winning Anita back…when suddenly this case dropped into his lap.

Taking down the Black Jacks was Steve’s shot at making something of himself. But the assignment was dangerous and living undercover was no place for the woman he loved. It would be cruel to ask her to give up everything she’d worked for, especially for a husband who had squandered their love and treated her so poorly. So, Steve made a choice…and now that the end was in sight, he was starting to realize how much he regretted it.

Brushing away thoughts of the past, Steve stepped away from the window and padded back to his desk. Seven years of photos, eyewitness statements, and encounters with the Black Jacks. His background in law made Steve the perfect candidate for this assignment. He was organized, thorough, and driven to prove that Sofía Salma was the worst kind of criminal. Her dirty fingers were stuck in dozens of different pies: embezzlement, fraud, trafficking of drugs, and she had a cache of military grade weapons in her arsenal large enough to get her charged with treason. Steve also couldn’t discount the kidnapping, assault, and extortion allegations either.

“Heads up, boss, there are two unidentified parties entering through the Eastern door,” A voice broke through Steve’s churning thoughts.

Tugging his suit jacket on, Steve shoved his badge into his pocket. “Nobody moves except on my command. You hear me, Reynolds?” He shoved the file into the desk and it locked automatically. Heading through the front door, there was a moment of silence before Bea and Julia burst through the glass doors. He drew his gun, holding it steady. “Were you followed?”

Bea pushed Julia behind her instantly, gritting her teeth as she stared him down. Her accent seemed to grow thicker when she was angry. “No, now drop the gun…” Her hand slipped down to the army knife that Julia had collected from the commissary, ready to draw if necessary. Bea’s surprise was palpable when the man removed his hand from the gun and grinned at her.

“You’re Lucy’s people?” Steve felt a fluttering of hope in his chest once more; he was so close to cracking this case wide open he could practically taste it. Seven years of work. Seven years of pain and heartache and failure…seven years of putting his life on hold. “Reynolds, Flanagan,” Steve barked, “Secure the perimeter. Anything on the monitor, Dennis?”

“No sir, we’re all clear,” Dennis replied from the opposite side of the room.

“Alright,” Steve took a step toward Bea and Julia. “I’m sorry about that.” Opening up the door to his office, he motioned to two chairs. “Where are the rest of the girls? Where’s Lucy?”

Julia moved to sit but Bea grabbed her to keep her from getting too comfortable. Bea was not yet convinced they were safe. “I’ve never met a lawyer with this much security.” Peeking around the doorjamb, Bea never released her grip on the knife. “What’s your deal?”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Steve softened his gaze. “I just need to take precautions. You know how Sofía is. I’m not taking any chances.”

Bea perched on a chair, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “It was Lucy’s idea to split up the group. We were instructed to come here.” Bea wasn’t about to tell Steve where the other girls were going. “For some stupid reason, Lucy thought we could trust you.”

“You
can
trust me,” Steve smirked at Bea’s distrust. “Let’s start over, alright? We haven’t even been properly introduced. I’m Steve Ellis, Esquire…and the head of the FBI operation that’s been working to take Sofía Salma and the Black Jacks down for good.”

“FBI?” Julia echoed and her eyes rolled skyward. “I should’ve known you were a cop!” She folded her arms over her chest, more defensive than she’d been since they arrived.

“Do you have something against cops?” Steve raised an eyebrow at her.

Julia opened her mouth but Bea cut her off swiftly, “We’ve got work to do here. Lucy’s still at the Black Jack compound and we don’t have the time to be dicking around.”?

“What do you mean Lucy’s still in there?” Steve gritted his teeth. Lucy was the reason he was back in touch with Anita; she was the reason he was this close to cracking this case. Not to mention, Lucy was pregnant. It was all the more reason to get her out of there as soon as possible. “Where is the other half of your group?”