Page 57 of Devil's Due

“Nah. Not until I had this meeting. I wanted to get us together to decide what to do.”

With a thump my vital organ starts working again, and my lungs take in oxygen once more. But maybe it’s just a temporary reprieve.

I hardly dare ask the question that’s on the tip of my tongue, but I need to know the answer. “Why are the Wretched Soulz involved, and why aretheytrying to find her?”

Chapter Twenty

It’s not just me who wants to hear the answer. Everyone’s sitting forward, their heads craned to face the prez sitting at the top of the table. The answer most likely is that they want her taken out of the equation so she can’t testify, the least possible response is that the dominant is fed up with the Warped Jokers and want her kept alive, and use her to get rid of a thorn in their side.

Demon’s eyes flare, and his mouth twists. “They want to make sure she doesn’t turn up in court.”

My hand smashes down on the table. “Why, Prez? Why are they protecting those motherfuckers? We all know what they’re like. Wouldn’t we be better off without them?”

Demon lurches ending up hunched over the table, both his fists come crashing down on the wood. “We’re all bikers, aren’t we? We’re all living on the wrong side of the line. Some of us just with a foot or two over it, but the spectrum is wide. The Warped Jokers just happen to be at the far end of it. Feds get one success, they’ll be looking for more. No one wants eyes on our business, no one wants dirt being dug up. Whether we like it or not, the Warped Jokers are a legitimate club set up with the dominant’s permission. They’re our biker brothers.”

They’re not my fucking brothers. And there’s one thing we haven’t discussed.

“What did they do, Prez? You’re suggesting we off a woman to let them walk free. What fuckin’ crime are you proposing we help cover up?” I realise there’s something else too. “And how can a fuckin’ blind woman be a credible witness? Surely their lawyer could shred her in court. Surely you aren’t suggesting we hand her over?”

Demon stands so fast his chair falls over backward. His palms flat on the table he looms over making me pleased there’s distance between us. Beside me, Hellfire, Demon’s dad and previous president sucks in an audible breath.

“I’m not suggesting fuckin’ anything. If you think for one second I’d condone killing an innocent woman, or anyone, who’s done nothing wrong but tell the truth, then you’re not a fit for this chapter. I don’t care if Drummer sent you here, I’ll be sending you back.”

The rest of the brothers look like they’re watching a tennis match, their heads turning one way and the other, checking me then Demon. I suspect they’re wondering if we’re going to settle this with our fists.

Thunder’s hand shoots out and grasps Demon’s arm. “We’re not on the side of the fuckin’ Jokers, Demon. Think you ought to explain that. And you, Beef,” he turns and meets my stare head on, “you don’t know the workings of this chapter, don’t know Demon’s approach. I suggest you hold back on your accusations until after you’ve heard everything Prez has got to say.”

Hellfire speaks from beside me, “If this club raised a finger against an innocent, I’d be the first to walk out.” He doesn’t face me as he says it.

I realise I’ve jumped in too fast. They’re right, I don’t know this chapter or how Demon leads it. I took the silence around me as agreement for anything he proposed, including harming Stevie. I drop my head into my hands, then look up. “Coming to a different chapter isn’t easy. You’re all brothers, but you roll a different way. Likewise, you don’t know me either. I apologise, Demon. I meant no offence.”

Slowly, very slowly, the tension leaves Demon’s arms. As he straightens, Mace slips out of his seat and discreetly picks Demon’s chair up. When the prez is re-seated, he dips his head. “Apology accepted. Now, if you let me, I’ll answer your questions with what I was able to find out.” His hand pushes his long hair back from his face, and he sighs. “Got some discussions necessary to decide,as a club,where we take this. But for that, you need facts.”

Lizard gets out his cigarettes. Mace wiggles his fingers and the packet is slid across the table. Before it returns to the tattoo artist, Sparky and Ink each take one out. Demon waits until the air’s become tinged with blue, and Mace has taken two ashtrays from a shelf behind him.

“Fuck knows why they thought it was a good idea, but the Warped Jokers decided to go down the old-fashioned route. A bank holdup. Things didn’t go as planned, one of the customers decided to be a hero, received a bullet for his pains. They’d taken their eyes off the cashier who got shot when she went for the panic button. Another customer tried to disarm one of the Jokers and managed to pull his mask off.” Demon breaks off and looks grim. “There were five customers and two cashiers in the bank at the time. Seven potential witnesses. The Joker whose face was revealed decided he didn’t want any left alive, except for the blind girl who couldn’t see anything.”

“They were right, weren’t they? She couldn’t see. Couldn’t tell who they were. Whether they were black, white or fuckin’ purple,” Rusty says, his brow creasing. “How the fuck could she be a witness?”

“It’s not what she saw, but what she heard,” I tell them, not even having to think about it. Living with her, seeing how her other senses compensate for the loss of her sight, I can well understand it.

“Heard, felt and smelled,” Demon agrees. “It’s not like RIP to be chatty, but I get the feeling he was impressed. I asked the question, he answered. Smell, leather, oil and sweat. They weren’t wearing cuts but had been. She suggested they could be bikers, which got the cops looking in that direction. There was more than that, her memory is spot on. They hadn’t realised, but they’d used a name, One-Eye. Cops homed in on the Jokers. Got them in a line-up, she identified them by their voices.”

“Would that stand up in court?” It seems flimsy at best.

Demon catches my eye. “They left her alive but impressed on her she had to stay silent. One hit her around her face, his ring left bruising. Another grabbed her in her struggle to get free, she felt his hand, it had one finger missing.”

“They weren’t wearing gloves?” Buzzard asks incredulously, shaking his head, as though he’s an expert bank robber.

“Yes, but only thin latex ones. That too, she said.”

“Her info? That’s enough to get a conviction?” I ask.

Demon nods. “She’s convincing as hell. Feds think yes.”

I could easily see how she could convince them. Sure she couldn’t see the bank robbers in the same way as I could, but those details she remembered using her other senses were presumably just as reliable.

“No other witness?” I’m grasping at straws. “Anyone outside see the getaway vehicle? The driver?”

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