Page 38 of Dancin' with Demons

Someone clears their throat from the back half of the circular table. “So, Renegade, that hot piece of pussy is the famous Raylynn? When do we get to watch you claim that?”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, Hammer,” Catacomb snaps before I can.

Takin’ a deep breath, I count to ten in my head, and remind myself that killin’ him durin’ Church is gonna come with hella consequences.

“Aw, come on, Prez,” Hammer says again as I turn my head to glare down the table at him. “She looks like she’s got ‘em small, mouth-full tits that bounce real hard when you fuck her from behind.”

Shovin’ my chair back, I let out a growl as I start to the back of the room.

“Renegade, don’t,” Catacomb says but his voice is almost resigned like he knows I ain’t gonna listen right now. “Renegade, damn it.”

My fist connects with Hammer’s face at the same time Catacomb cusses from the front of the room. Rearin’ back, I bring my fist down a second time, the bridge of his nose givin’ under my knuckle, followed by Hammer’s grunt of pain. Yankin’ him from his chair, I slide my arm around his neck and twist so my body is behind him, his head firmly locked against the bend in my elbow as I bring my other hand up to grab my wrist and squeeze until he’s flailin’ and wheezin’.

“If you ever so much as breath an inappropriate word about my future wife again, I will let Catacomb strip me of every patch and rocker on this cut for killin’ you, do you get me, brother?” Hammer grunts again and tries to swin’ and hit me, but it’s half-assed at best since his face is pale, he wheezin’ shallow. A few more seconds, and he’ll go night-night for at least an hour.

“Makoa, enough,” Catacomb growls.

I grumble as I remove my arms from Hammer and let him drop, coughin’ and sputter blood everywhere on all fours in front of the table, and turn to head back to my seat. Floppin’ in it, I glance up and catch Archangel’s eye, not missin’ the huge smirk on his face.

“My, my,” he says in the weird, smart-ass but almost condescendin’ tone only my vice president has, “I do believe I see the former Renegade showin’ again.”

“You ain’t seen shit yet,” Catacomb quips, glancin’ down at Archangel. “Watch what happens if someone upsets the kid.”

Archangel raises an eyebrow, the smirk still plastered on his face.

“So, I love her,” I say, shruggin’ my shoulders, “sue me.”

“You ready to shut up now, Hammer?” Catacomb stares down the end of the table, and I don’t bother to even turn my head.

“Mother fucker broke my nose, prez,” Hammer snaps, but honestly, all I hear is a whiny brat of a man.

“Well, maybe wait until after I make announcements before you make comments next time.” Catacomb sits in his seat, foldin’ his hands together against his stomach. “So, as Hammer pointed out, Renegade brought a woman and child back from North Carolina with us. And yes, that woman is Raylynn that you’ve all heard or whispered about. As you can also see, Renegade is sober and back to his usually aggressive self.”

My president looks at me with amusement in his eyes, but nods. Sittin’ forward, I clear my throat. “For those of you that weren’t here back then, three years ago, girls went missin’ off the college campus. One of ‘em was Lacey’s best friend Raylynn. Lacey was take three months later, and that’s when Catacomb put all of us on duty to find out who was takin’ ‘em.” I pause to watch several members nod in agreement, while some of the newer ones sit forward and stare at me. “We found ‘em bein’ held at the Havoc Ryders clubhouse. Raylynn was strapped to a table in a room they used to rape and torture these women. And she’s been there goin’ through that, daily, for six months.”

“That girl survived six month like that with a motorcycle club?” Hobgoblin asks, shock evident on his features. “Most men wouldn’t last that long.”

“It wasn’t without issues,” Catacomb continues as he sits forward as well. “Raylynn was seen by Doc, and she was in bad shape. Not just physically, but mentally. Renegade was with her every moment for the few days she was here. The last night before she disappeared, I’d called Church, and while we were in here, Raylynn tried to kill herself.” Several of the men suck in air, and a few mumble comments. “We got her to the hospital, and the next day, she waited for all of us to leave, Renegade comin’ here under the plan that he was gettin’ her clothes to be discharged so she could come back to the clubhouse. But when Lacey and I got to the hospital, she was gone. We thought she’d come here with Renegade, until we got here and realized she dipped.”

Sighin’, I run my hands down my face. “Turns out she landed in Nags Head. About a month after she split, she found out she was pregnant.”

“Who’s the kid’s father?” Archangel asks, his voice even but with a hint of worry.

“Raylynn doesn’t know,” Catacomb says with disappointment in his tone. “She was raped by at least twenty men over that six months, so there’s no way to know unless you could paternity test ‘em all.”

“As far as I’m concerned, Savior’s my kid from here on out,” I say, my voice deadly quiet. “DNA don’t mean shit, so I expect that little kid to be treated as if she is biologically mine.”

“Fair enough,” Archangel says with a nod. “I’m assumin’ her past is gonna make an official claimin’ difficult?”

“Yeah,” Catacomb says as he looks sternly around the table. “But we aren’t gonna be just another group of bikers that forces her to fuck for a crowd. So, Renegade will officially claim her when she says she’s ready. In the club’s eyes, she’s an ol’ lady, and should be treated as such. It ain’t often I’d make exceptions on the bylaws, but this is one of the times I think it’s warranted.”

“I’d agree,” Archangel says, his own glance goin’ around the room, clearly darin’ someone to disagree.

“Prez,” Hardwire says, grabbin’ out attention, “sorry to interrupt, but we got an encrypted message from God’s Forsaken. December first. Nine PM. Jericho’s in town. He’s settin’ officers only.”

Catacomb sits back again and steeples his fingers together. “Agreed. My stipulation is their club wears no cuts. Not while they’re in our territory.”

Hardwire clicks a few times and then types at lightenin’ speed before clickin’ another two times. “Sent.”

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