Devil on Your Back (17 page)

I nod, awaiting his directive. My chest tightens, and I squeeze my thighs together to ease the tingle down below.
Bossy Vince is hot.

“You and me? We’re goin’ to take some time, get to know each other better.” He steps forward, and places his free hand just above my elbow. “There’s chemistry here, we both know that, but let’s be honest—we haven’t taken the time to really learn much, have we?”

I shake my head, mesmerized by the intensity of his stern expression.

“It doesn’t mean that I’m digging for information to find a reason to run, so get that fuckin’ thought out of your damn head,”—
Bastard
—“it simply means that though we’re both ready to travel this new path together, we don’t have to do it stumbling around like blind fools.”

“Makes total sense,” I muse.

“Of course it does.” He chuckles. “Now, get your ass in that truck and once you’ve parked it up, you can get to tellin’ me who taught you to drive.”

“Step one,” I say.

“Step one.”

SONYA STAYED
true to her word, and for the next four days I never heard another complaint from her about feeling inadequate. Every minute I wasn’t working on a solution for the problem with Alice, we spent together. Both of us still faithfully avoided the sensitive subjects like how exactly we lost our loved ones, but we talked. In all honesty, I think those talks are the only thing helping me keep a level head while King and I try to work out this mess with Carlos.

I learnt Sonya likes white chocolate.

That her favorite songs are by Blondie.

She hasn’t spoken to her brother in eleven years.

And she can’t get enough of the thrill when she rides roller coasters.

Small stuff, not really important in the grand scheme of things, but they’re the details that make her tick. They’re the things that individually might not mean much, but put them all together and the sum equals Sonya.

She’s quickly gotten used to my unusual waking ritual. This morning, I snapped out of the panic to find her sitting on the bed behind me, knees tucked to her chest, watching. There’s nothing she can do about it, but she likes to be there, to keep me company while the hallucinations work their way out of my system.

It’s nice, being cared for. It’s been far too long since anybody cared like that, and only when you fill the empty void in your heart do you realize just how deep the chasms ran.

“What’s for breakfast?” I ask, rolling on top of her to give her a good morning kiss.

“I swear that’s the only reason you’re sleeping with the cook,” she teases.

“Not the only reason,” I say, nudging my obvious morning glory into her.

She smiles, and her eyes light up. “You pose a good argument.”

I slip my hands beneath the tank she wears to bed and brush her nipples, enjoying how quickly they harden and swell. The heat between us is building when there’s a firm knock on her door.

“Sonya, is Vince with you?”

She squeals, and buries herself under the sheets, giggling.

“I am,” I answer.

“Morning to you, then.” King chuckles through the door. “I need you downstairs in ten.”

“On it.”

His footsteps move away from the door, and I take the edge of the sheet between my fingers. “You still under there?”

“Oh my God,” she wails. “That was so embarrassing.”

“I could think of worse,” I tell her truthfully. “We have ten minutes though.”

“You think you can be that quick?” she asks with an enticing sparkle to her eye.

“Let’s find out.”

• • • • •

“FIFTEEN,” KING
says as I enter his office. “I said ten.”

“I tried.” I smile.

“So, things are going good with you two, then?”

“So far.”

“She needs to be taken care of, man. She suffered some harsh shit when Mike died.”

“I’m aware.”

“I know you are,” King says with a nod. “Just reiterating that she means a lot to this place.”

“How’s Bruiser’s family?” I ask, eager to shift the subject.

“As can be expected. Don’t want a thing to do with us.”

“Do they really think we’re to blame here?”

“Yep, they sure do.” King shakes out a cigarette and twirls it in his fingers. “I brought you in here because I’m a little worried about how things are progressing down south.”

I cross my arms, and lean against the wall. “How’s that?”

“You know I sent Callum to locate Sawyer after you got back, right?”

I nod.

“Well, he found him. Holed up in some druggie’s house, mad as a hatter. Been followin’ him around, but lost him yesterday.”

“Shit.” My mind goes into overdrive working on what this means for Alice, his girl, and even us back here.

“Just got off the phone from him before I woke you up, and he doesn’t even have a lead on the bastard. The impression Calllum’s got”—King places the cigarette between his lips—“is that Sawyer might be on his way back here.”

“What will you do when he does return?”

King sighs, and places the cigarette down. “I’m not sure.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “It’s not our only problem, though. I’ve found out that Carlos finds what Bruiser did so amusing, he’s busy recounting it to everyone like it’s some fuckin’ entertaining pub tale.”

I draw a deep breath. “No conscience, that guy.”

“None whatsoever. Callum is on his way home today to regroup, get some more clothes and shit.” He pinches the smoke between his fingers again and leans forward, elbows on the desk. “I’m going to be honest here. I could easily walk away from this, let Carlos sort out Sawyer, and let things run their course.”

I stiffen my stance, stepping forward, and let my face reflect the rage that’s building at what he’s talking of doing.

“But I won’t walk away for the sake of takin’ the easy option, so you can bottle that shit I see brewin’,” he finishes. “I just want you aware of what our involvement is going to do for things around here.”

“I’m have a fair idea,” I say.

“At the moment, the dispute between Carlos and your kid is firmly in the south. It could stay that way, but if we get any deeper than we are, it has a high chance of followin’ us home. You know as well as I do, that puts everyone in this club at risk.”

“I know.”

“Yes, but can you truly live with the consequence?”

I close my eyes, and huff a breath through my nose. “Yes.” After all, I’ve inflicted worse on myself. “Will you let everyone know what’s happening, fill them in?”

“When the time comes. I’ve got a few things going on in the background, but I’m not going to panic everyone until I absolutely have to.”

I nod, immensely grateful for this guy. He took me on when I wouldn’t have given myself the time of day, and built me into what I am now from the ground up. Some people just want to help everyone and everything for their own self-gratification. But King? He’s one of the rare ones; he can truly see when a person is worth the effort, and when he does, he gives them everything he has to make sure they flourish.

“One last request, though, Vince.”

“Anything.”

“You’re going back down south tomorrow to keep watch on your boy. I’ll give you Callum again, for strategic reasons, but I need you to take someone else as well.”

“Who?” He better not give me a prospect to babysit.

“Sonya.”

“Are you fuckin’ with me?”

“Hardly. She needs the break from this place, a change of scenery. Plus, not only will she be safe with you, but you need to be aware she has a few contacts at that end of the country if it gets to that.”

“She mentioned something about coming from a sister chapter down south,” I reflect.

“Take a guess which one,” he says, reclining in his seat.

“Shit. That so?”

“Yep. She came from the same bunch as Sawyer, and if anyone’s going to be able to find a weasel willing to spill secrets about the kid,
should you need it
, it’s her. I’m sure a few of those bastards aren’t letting on as much as they know.” He leans forward, a frown in place. “But I’m serious; I don’t want her at risk if she doesn’t need to be.”

His mobile skitters across the desk, and I lean a hip into the wall to wait him out while he answers. King has his head in his hand, and by the tone he’s using with the poor messenger on the other end, the news he’s receiving isn’t good.

“You’re fuckin’ jokin’ me?” he hollers. “What the fuck next?” He hangs up, and tosses the phone back on the desk. “Change of plans,” he says, sounding exhausted.

“I’m ears,” I say, pushing off the wall.

“Get your fuckin’ bags packed, and get the fuck out of here now. Find your kid, relocate him, fucking stash him in a Storage King if that’ll keep him out of harm’s way.”

“Mind tellin’ me what went down?” I ask, leaning my palms on the front of his desk.

“Callum just spotted Sawyer leavin’ your boy’s street.”

“Fuck.” I rip my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and flick through to Alice’s number.

“What are you doing?” King quizzes.

“Calling Alice.”

“Doesn’t he know he’s at risk already?” King’s inquisitive frown fades as the reality sinks in. “You didn’t tell him the whole story.”

“Not yet.” My thumb hovers over the dial button. “I told him he was being hunted, but not by who.” King frowns at me, unimpressed. “What? I was going to break him into it, but then all this happened, and . . . well . . . I didn’t think it mattered who as long as he knew he needed to lay low,” I say, ducking my chin. “I fucked up.”

“Hurry up and call him then. I want you two on the road in the next hour so you cross paths with Callum. He still needs to come back here, and reload, but I don’t want your kid being left alone for too long.”

I nod tightly, and walk out of the office while I wake my phone. My thumb taps the green icon, and I lean a shoulder into the common room wall as I wait out the rings.

“Hey,” Alice answers. “What’s up? You have some news on Carlos?”

“There’s something I didn’t explain when I was down. I’m heading back tonight and I’ve got company.”

“Can’t you tell me now?” he asks.

“I’d rather not. Do me a favor and keep Jane at home, within sight. Don’t let anyone in other than me. I’ll explain it all when we arrive.” If I let him know now Sawyer is the one who killed Tigger, then who knows what he’ll do before I get there.

Not wanting to hear his protests, and get into yet another argument, I smack the end button and let my hand fall to my side.

He’s going to hate what I have to tell him, but I’m past worrying about what makes the kid happy. He’s had plenty of years to get over the disappointment of what I did.

It’s time I took charge, as I should have from the start.

“GET YOUR
things packed for a road trip.”

Vince comes crashing into my room, full of authority and anger. I watch as he storms around the place, collecting his wallet and phone.

“Hey, Sonya, how about a trip away?” I sass. “Sure thing, Vince. Let me get my stuff.”

He whirls to me, and I reel back at the look in his eye. “Don’t fuckin’ push me, woman.”

“What the hell, Vince?”

He growls and flops down on the bed, damn near folding it in two as his weights impacts with the mattress. He throws his hands over his head and sighs. “Come here.”

“Why?” The man comes storming into the room like that and expects me to just crawl to his side on command?

“Because I said so.”

I give in at the desolate tone to his voice. Going to him on all fours, I settle down beside him. He wraps an arm over my shoulder and rolls me in to him. “Sawyer’s impromptu trip away is connected to the shit that’s going down with Alice,” he explains. “He’s trying to get to my boy and his pals before Carlos gets a chance. Callum just phoned to say he spotted Sawyer near my kid’s house.”

My head goes blank. After so much bad news in a lifetime, a person can only process so much, and right now my brain’s CPU has officially gone on strike. I’ve got nothing—nothing but a deep-seated hopelessness at what this world holds for us.

Vince growls in frustration and rubs his face with his free hand. I look up at him beside me, stressed and weathering it badly. Why do bad things have to not only happen to good people but
continue
to happen to them?

“When?” I manage to ask.

“About two hours ago.”

“What’s King going to do about it?”

“He’s preparing for a shit-storm, because no matter which way we cut it we’re going to have to deal with Sawyer before he does any more damage. King’s prepared to get the members somewhere safe if shit gets back here.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, pushing up onto an elbow. “It’s club business.”

“It is,” he agrees. “But I’m askin’ you to up and go without any explanation, and on top of that, takin’ you to the heart of the trouble. It doesn’t seem fair to not tell you why.”

“Are we going to see your boy, Alice?”

He nods. “Try and explain that Sawyer’s responsible, and it would be better for them if they stepped back and let us deal with it. That kid wouldn’t know when to back down if the directive was handed to him on a letter signed by the President of the United States. He’s like a dog with a bone when you threaten him, and quite frankly, I’m worried this time it’ll get him killed.”

“What are you going to do?”

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, his jaw ticking as he thinks. “Refuse to take ‘no’ for an answer. If I have to drag his sorry ass kicking and screaming out of harm’s way, I will.”

I smile, looking him over. If Vince’s boy is anything like him, this could be interesting. “Bet he’s goin’ to love that,” I say.

“He’ll fuckin’ learn to love it.”

I chuckle, and then lean over to give him a quick kiss. “Thank you for telling me this.”

Vince slides his fingers across my cheek, and then rises from beside me. He walks over to the end of my bed, and picks up his backpack. “Let’s get you packed.”

• • • • •

A FEW
hours later, I’m on the back of Vince’s Triumph, tearing down the highway for the first time in five years.

I’ve missed this: the wind whipping around me, the thrill of dancing with death, the intimacy of tucking myself into my riding partner.

Luckily I kept my spare helmet after Mike died, and miraculously I even fit my old leather jacket still. I wrap my hands tight around Vince’s waist and tuck my helmet behind his to reduce the windburn on my face. Peering out beside us as we speed along, I take in the cars we pass, filled with all assortments of people, from business professionals to families.

There are so many individual lives and experiences on this planet, and no two the same. Although, we’re all still united in that we just want to get to the end of our life happy. No matter what happens between the starting line and where we finish, we just want to be content doing it. Riding with Vince, I think I can say I’m truly happy again—even if we are heading into danger.

Vince taps my leg a while later, and points across to a sign for a service stop. I hold my thumb in front for him to see, and we coast across the gaps in the traffic until we reach the exit ramp. The Triumph idles into a park out front, and I climb off, ready to stretch my legs out. Placing my helmet on the seat, I reach for my jacket as Vince does the same.

Our hands tangle at my zipper, and he lets out a shy chuckle. “Ladies first.”

“How long have we got to go?” I ask.

“About five hours.”

“I’m hardly going to be able to walk when we get there; I’m so out of practice.” Triumph seats are nowhere near as wide as a Harley’s, and my ass is sure reminding me of that.

He pats me on the butt and walks ahead into the diner. “You better get used to it.”

We find a booth near the corner and order lunch. Vince opts for the very stereotypical man’s choice of a T-bone steak, and I select a lighter grilled chicken salad, not wanting to test the limits of my jacket. I down a large glass of water within a minute while we wait and soon start to regret it.

“I’m going to use the bathroom before lunch is brought out,” I say.

Vince smiles, and nods his head toward the sign. “I’m not going to stop you.”

I walk away with a true smile on my face, content at how comfortable travelling with him is so far. It’s nice to get out of the clubhouse, out of the town, and heading back to where I came from. I’m sure he knows by now which chapter I transferred from with Mike, but we’ve never spoken directly about it. It makes me wonder, with all that’s going down with Sawyer, why he hasn’t.

I do my thing, and check out my reflection while I wash my hands. My blonde hair is slightly matted across my forehead from the helmet, and my cheeks are flushed with the windburn I’ll have tomorrow. Overall though, I look alive, and in all honest truth, I feel the best I have in a long time.

Again, I wonder if my association with the southern Fallen Saints will be brought into play during our stay. If I see any of them, would they recognize me? Would I still know them? How many of the same club members remain? When I left their compound, I departed as Mike’s old lady. Returning without that honor might not be accepted so favorably—especially if I end up involved in club business.

I guess only time will tell.

When I return to our booth, I find the food has arrived.

“You okay?” Vince asks as I sit.

“Fine.”

“You look like something upset you. Didn’t know using the bathroom was so distressing.”

I smile, and pick up my fork. “I’d be worried if it was. No, I was just reflecting on things.”

“Yeah?” he states around a mouthful of steak.

“I’m happy, Vince. And truth be told, I haven’t thought about Mike at all this past week.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I think so.” All the time we’ve spent together since the day at the storage unit, I could count on one hand the occasions I felt any concern that I was cheating on Mike’s memory by partnering up with Vince. In a strange way, it brings me relief. I guess I’m really moving on, and it’s nowhere near as painful as I thought it would be.

“Eat up,” Vince instructs, “’cause I’m planning on riding right through after this.”

I nod, and tuck into my salad, watching Vince as he eats. Watching the man who’s shown me it’s okay to feel again. All I can hope is that I’m having the same sort of effect on him.

“Do you only need me on this trip as a familiar face for the southern members?” I ask between mouthfuls.

He looks up from his steak, and frowns. “What makes you say that?”

I shrug. “Just wasn’t sure why else you’d bring me along, that’s all.”

He sighs and takes a bite of meat, chewing as he thinks on what to say. I watch him silently, pushing a piece of lettuce around my plate, waiting on him to decide how to respond.

Vince swallows and wipes his mouth with the napkin, pushing back into the booth seat. He places the paper on the table, and crosses his arms. “It was why King sent you.” He nods. “But I would have asked you anyway.”

I let my eyes drop to the remainder of my lunch and push it away. “That’s okay. You don’t have to justify anything. I understand.” I’m not keen to rehash our last fight, and bicker about my misplaced insecurity.

“Sonya . . .”

I shake my head, urging him not to tell me what I
want
to hear. All I need is the truth, raw and pure. “I’m enjoying the break with you. I don’t want to ruin that because of something King’s done.”

“Baby, I
want
you here.” He reaches across the table, and takes one of my hands. “That’s what matters, okay?”

Unable to hold his gaze, I stare out the diner window at the cars and trucks as they fly past on the highway. He squeezes my hand, but I refuse to look at him. I believe what he’s saying, but knowing King sent me for his own gain burns. Everyone needs me, but no one
really
needs
me. King said I hold the clubhouse together, but it’s a hollow compliment when I know he really means I keep them in clean sheets and with full bellies. What sort of gratitude is that? And now . . . now I’m needed for the people I know, not for anything else.

“Sonya,” Vince urges. “Look at me.”

I let my gaze slide toward him and curl my lips in a weak smile.

“Are you not happy to be here with me?”

My chest hurts when I look into his pained eyes. “Of course I am. It’s not you at all, Vince.”

“Why are you still upset, then?”

“Because it’s tiring,” I admit, “knowing you’re only as good as the favors you do for everyone else.”

“That’s not the case, and you know it,” he growls, dropping my hand.

“It is, Vince. All I’m ever needed for is the cleaning I do, the meals I cook, and the errands I run. Apart from you, nobody has ever hunted through that clubhouse and searched me out because they simply wanted to see me—everybody needs something and I get a little sick of it.”

“Being needed isn’t a bad thing.” His tone sours and I wonder if he’s referring to himself.

“But I’m needed as a housekeeper, nothing else. I want to be needed for me.”

He ducks his chin, unusually shy. “I need you for you.”

“And I know it, really I do.” My hands swipe at my eyes, fending off unwanted tears. “But it’s different from wanting that from your friends.”

Vince frowns, and rubs his chin with the side of his forefinger. “Surely Ramona needs you for who you are?”

I shrug, battling with the last drops before they break free from the rims of my eyes. “I don’t really know anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I spend every day at that place. I never get invited out for ‘girl’s nights’. I’m truly nothing more than a biker club’s cook and cleaner. What sort of fucking achievement is that?”

“Someone has to do it,” he says. “What makes you think that’s meaningless?”

“Because anyone could do it.” I frown, maddened at my own pointlessness. “Any chum off the street could whip a brush around a toilet. There’s nothing special about being a housekeeper.”

Vince heaves a breath and leans back in the booth seat. He pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

“What are you doing?”

A single finger is held high. He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear. “Hey . . . yeah, we’re good . . . Can you do us a favor? . . . No, not for that . . . So we’re having a discussion over lunch.” His eyes lift to meet mine. “Sonya thinks what she does isn’t important, that anyone could do her job . . . I know . . . Can you tell her that?”

He holds the phone toward me and wiggles it with his eyebrows raised.

I take it from him, and hold it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Why on earth would you think you’re not special to this place?”
King.