Page 4 of Devil's Due

As I shrug, Drummer reaches behind him. I could count the number of times on one hand that I’ve been in Drummer’s office and have been offered a glass of his pure malt whisky. It’s a sign this will be a serious conversation. I would have thought it was a bit too early to be hitting the hard stuff, but if he doesn’t care it’s not even the middle of the day, then who am I to object? If he’s offering, I may need it.

He waits until I’ve taken a sip and have sighed in appreciation. “I don’t get between men and their old ladies. Only a fool would do that, and I like to think I’m not such a fool.” As I give the grin he expects, he resumes, “You’ve been the muscle at my back more times than I care to remember, Beef. Ready to back it up too. Not shy to get into a fight beside your brothers. But when it comes to women? Soft as fuckin’ cotton wool.”

Another raise and dip of my shoulders. Can’t really argue with that. Wouldn’t let a man get one up on me, but a woman? Yeah, perhaps spineless does describe it.

“Way I see it, Sally saw you, thought you were a good thing, and you simply went along with it. You probably saw it as a chance to have something that I, and your other brothers, have. Easy choice, Beef. Doesn’t mean it was the right one.”

“Wasn’t hard for you, Prez. Sam dropped into your lap, so to speak.”

The corners of his mouth curve. “I saw her, knew I wasn’t going to let her go. Sure, I fought it, but she was mine from then on. Sally? Nah, don’t think you can say the same Beef. I’ve watched you together, can’t see she’s your one.”

“She wants me to get a fuckin’ Goldwing,” I input grumpily.

“What?” His laugh sounds incredulous. “An armchair on wheels?”

“I said no.”

“Didn’t need to add that, Brother.” He chuckles, then frowns. “As I said, you’re a fuckin’ good man to have at my back, Beef. But you haven’t got the guts to do what you need to do. I’m stepping in as I don’t want a brother killed.” He shakes his head as if remembering last night. “I’m telling you, not giving advice. Move back to the club. Viper’s done up some new suites, take one of those.”

“Sally’s not going to like that.”

“Don’t give a fuck. I’m worried about you.”

He lets that sink in. I know he’s right, but it’s not so easy for me to put his suggestion into action.

“It’s an order, Beef. Dress it up to her as you will. I’m not risking last night happening again.”

I’m not averse to his suggestion, it’s just the acting on it that’s going to be hard.

Sally needed a man, I needed a woman to take my mind off the one I wanted but couldn’t have. Thought we could make it work, but it’s turned out to be the worst mistake of my life. Problem is, there’s no way I can get myself out of what I’ve got into without causing more harm.

It’s easy for Drummer to suggest I cut her loose, but he’s forgetting her background. She was married to a man who’d hurt and abused her, and in the end, had told her to her face she was worth more to him dead than alive. Any self-confidence she’d had had been slashed apart. If I outright tell her I don’t want her, she’ll blame herself. It’s not her fault I can’t be the man she wants. It’s not on either of us our relationship doesn’t work, it’s that we’re two different people who should never have teamed up together.

Yeah, I’m a marshmallow when it comes to dealing with her, but it’s not just hurting her, it’s trying not to deal a blow that could add to her existing insecurities and destroy her.

For my sanity, I have to get out. For her sake, I have to ease away, and not simply cut her from my life. Moving back to the club while letting her believe it’s not final could be the first step. Loosen the ropes that bind us. Trouble is, I know my woman better than that, and she won’t take me putting distance between us well.

Delaying the proposal won’t help, and I won’t be able to come up with a better solution however much time I give to my thoughts. Best do it now, while Drummer’s voice is still echoing in my head, giving me some of the fortitude that, where women are concerned, I usually lack.

Leaving the relative sanctuary of the compound, I ride back into Tucson, for once not enjoying the wind therapy, too wound up about the conversation to come, a discussion long overdue. As my wheels spin beneath me, I berate myself yet again for getting into this mess, and not having the guts to get out of the situation as soon as I knew it was wrong.

Sally’s at home alone, the kids are at school. If we’re going to have tears and remonstrations, now’s a good time as any. I lean against the washer as she separates the laundry into different piles, a small frown playing on my face as I see her sort my socks and underwear. I’m perfectly capable of washing my own shit, but it’s the one area where she insists she’s in charge.

“I’m moving back to the club.”

Swinging around, her eyes are wide. “What did you say?”

“I’m going to stay at the club for a while.”

“Beef!” She comes flying at me, her arms holding me tight, her cheek already wet with tears dampen my tee. “Don’t leave me. I need you. What will I do without you? Don’t go, please?” She starts to sob.

Oh fuck. I’m so fucking weak. “Hey, don’t’ cry, Sal. I’m not leaving you. It’s just I need my own space for a bit. I’m not in a good headspace right now, and I’ll only take my shit out on you and the kids if I’m around, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Is it me? Have I done or said something? Or are things upsetting you at the club?”

As good an excuse as any. “The club,” I lie.

I can see her biting back words and am half expecting her to tell me I could leave the Satan’s Devils, jumping at the perfect excuse I’ve given her. But when she ends up asking simply, “You’ll come back?” I wonder whether she’s got some inkling it isher, and wants to skirt away from the truth as much as I.

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