Page 123 of Devil's Due

Now I grin. It seems she speaks my language. “You ride?”

“Yeah. I’ve got my own Sportster. Didn’t Steph tell you? Dad rides too. He’s restoring an old Norton.”

“I didn’t tell him anything about the family, Susie.” Steph’s eyes glisten with emotion. “I had to become Stevie Nichols, and never refer to my old life. I could only keep in character if I never forgot who I was supposed to be.”

“Are you safe now?” She addresses the question to Steph, but her eyes find mine.

Quickly I decide platitudes wouldn’t work. “I’ll keep her safe, but we don’t know what we’re dealing with until the verdict comes in.” It’s the truth. I’ll be holding out no false hope that everything will be rosy. Thinking it might help win her family over, I add, “Whatever we need to do, I’ll be at Steph’s side. I won’t leave her to face anything alone.”

“Good.”

“Hate to interrupt this family reunion, but our plane’s ready and waiting. You coming?”

I raise my chin toward Demon. “Susie, this is my prez, Demon. Steph’s staying at the Colorado chapter with me for now. Demon’s offered his protection while she needs it. We’ve got to get back.”

“Susie, I’ll try and make it home soon…”

“I’ll make sure she does.”

Her sister nods, then winks at me. “And I’ll prepare the family.”

With perfect timing, Dart draws up beside us in the SUV. Susie and Steph hug, both have tears running down their cheeks, but Demon’s right. We need to get out of LA before the verdict comes. Probably won’t be today, but if the jury has heard enough to make their minds up fast, it could be. If the Warped Jokers go down, wouldn’t be good for Steph to be out in the open, at least while we know some are still on the loose.

I give the sisters a moment alone, then go and take my woman’s arm. She’s crying freely, and I let her weep on my shoulder. She’d have given into tears whether or not she’d seen her sister. Today’s been the culmination of a difficult few months, and now it’s over. I just let her cry it all out.

Demon has a last few words with the brothers who’d ridden to LA to provide their support. It will only take us a couple of hours to fly to Pueblo, but brothers riding have a nineteen-hour journey in front of them, and will no doubt spread their long ride over a couple of days. It’s Wednesday today, which means church has had to be cancelled. I overhear him telling them to take their time, but to be sure to be back by Saturday, when he plans to reschedule our meeting.

As I watch them go to their bikes, part of me is envious. A long ride in the company of brothers? Fresh air in my face? Much better than being stuck on a flying prison. One day, I promise myself, Steph and I will just take off and travel. Her and me on my bike? Can’t think of anything better.

I smile to myself. No wonder she’s not afraid of bikers or riding. From what her sister had said, it’s in her blood.

Steph was bone tired when we returned from LA, all the stress and strain of the last few months leeched out of her. At first she slept, curled up on our bed with Max by her side. When I went up to find them there, I didn’t have the heart to move them, so I spent an uncomfortable night, well over to one side, almost falling out. I might love Max, but he’s not making a habit of this—darn dog takes up more space than both of us put together.Andhe was lying in the middle which meant I couldn’t cuddle my woman. But I’ve got days, weeks, months and years ahead when I’ll be able to do that.

When she wakes the next morning, she’s got a full-blown migraine. Rusty told me not to worry, they sometimes come on when the stress is over. My plans to demonstrate my love for her are put on hold as she wants to do nothing more than lie in a dark room and sleep. Friday, she’s a bit better, but tired with a lingering headache. It’s that day her phone rings.

Unashamedly, I listen to her side of the conversation.

“Lennox. Yeah? Thank goodness. Thank you.” She ends the call and inhales a deep breath.

“Well?” My voice conveys my impatience.

“Guilty on all counts. Remanded for sentencing. Warrants have been issued for the rest of the gang.”

Any other MC and I’d have corrected her. But the Warped Jokers are a gang, not my definition of a riding club even though their transport may be Harleys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Not now, no.”

Watching her carefully, I see her face is tight. Though some people might expect to see relief, I can understand her reaction. It’s a lot to sink in after the months of anticipation, and the toll it’s taken on her. We’ll have to face a lot of things head on, but I can give her this breathing space to process.

Worries are still in my head. Is she really out the other side? Is there still any risk of blowback on her? For now I think what remains of the Jokers will be keeping down low, evading arrest. Any thoughts I have on dealing with that can be discussed with Demon or Drummer. She doesn’t need to be bothered with anything other than fact.

She remains quiet, thoughtful all day, and does little other than walking Max around the new yard and chatting with the other old ladies. I don’t interfere, knowing she needs to get things straight in her head, and it’s best to let her do that at her own pace. If she needs me, I’m there.

It’s Saturday when she wakes up refreshed seeming like her batteries have been recharged. She looks so energetic that an idea comes into my head.

“Want to take off for a while? Go for a ride?”

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