Forged: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel Read online

  The deep chuckle behind me after I removed my earbuds were removed made me want to smack the smirk right off his beautiful face, but I resisted. Just barely but I did.

  “You know how much I love watching you shake your sweet ass for me, babe, but with just you and the girls in the house you should be a bit more aware of what’s going on around you, don’t you think?”

  The warning in his tone isn’t overshadowed by the gentleness of his hands on my hips. However the insinuation that I’m not doing my job looking out for our girls isn’t lost on me, which only makes me seethe with anger. How dare he pass judgement on me! It’s not his place anymore. He made it very clear by his actions that he wasn’t part of our family unit when he made his choice, and he did it resolutely. Using my ass to give him a good hard shove, I tear off my dishwashing gloves tossing them carelessly on the counter. Spinning on him, I suck in a lungful of air as I take in all the beauty that is, Saint.

  His hair is cropped tightly to his head again, all the gorgeous, wavy locks long gone. His eyes are tired; the dark rings underneath them telling me he’s been sleeping about as well as I have. It’s only been fourteen days, five hours, and seventeen minutes since I officially called it quits, but I can tell he’s felt every last one of them. Saint’s muscles test the strength of the faded black Chasers T-shirt he’s wearing. It’s stretched it to its limits displaying every tight, well-defined plane beneath.

  My eyes travel down his body taking in the dark denim jeans encasing his thickly muscled thighs, the black belt with Devil’s Spawn buckle emphasizing his narrow waist, and the scuffed motorcycle boots covering his huge feet. I know it’s cliché but the rumors are true, men with big feet tend to have equally large cocks. I should know, I have first-hand experience with one of those men and he’s looking right at me. Saint’s lip curls at the corner and I just know I’ve been busted checking him out. What can I say, he’s too sexy not to but that doesn’t mean I’ll admit it to anyone.

  Reminding myself that I’m pissed at the pushy bastard, I square my shoulders and pin him with a nasty glare.

  “Thanks for the reminder, but I’m well aware it’s just us. As hard as it is to believe, Saint, not everyone’s out to get you. The girls and I are perfectly safe here. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ve got stuff to do so you can see yourself out when you’re ready.”

  “Not so fast, Tilly,” he growls. “I want to know why you’re avoiding me when I’m here. As soon as I walk in the room you walk right back out, what the fuck is up with that?”

  Crossing my arms across my chest, I think about how best to answer him.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I retort snidely. “Maybe because you’re here to spend time with your children not me.” That’s not the whole truth, but I doubt he wants to hear the rest.

  Mirroring my stance by folding his own huge arms across his broad chest, he cocks an eyebrow looking far too amused for my liking.

  “Is that right? Who said I can’t do both?”

  Yeah, and we know how that will end. Spending time with him when everything is still so fresh is not a good idea. We could barely be in the same room before, but now, even being in the same house is a risk seeing as tensions are running higher than ever.

  “I said, that’s who. I don’t want to be a bitch, but I’d rather kick you in the balls than spend time I don’t have to with you at the moment. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel differently, but if I do you’ll be the first to know.”

  I hate having to hurt him, and looking at the crestfallen expression on his face I know I’ve done just that. But what did he expect? That he’d start coming over and we’d play happy families like nothing ever happened? Yeah, not going to happen buddy.

  “So, what? I keep coming over, you disappear, and I leave like a thief in the night? That’s what you’re asking of me, right, because I just wanna make sure I’ve got this shit straight in my head, Tilly?”

  The man is infuriating. Saint knows I don’t say anything I don’t mean, which can only mean one thing; he’s spoiling for a fight. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s provoked an argument with me in order to relieve some tension, but I’m not biting this time. No way.

  “The deal was you spend time with the girls so they know you’re still here for them, Saint. Nowhere in that did I agree I’d be part of it. I’m not needed for you to visit with them, and to be honest, it would probably only make it unpleasant for them. Us being at each other’s throats and all.”

  Surely he can see that. The man might be dense when it comes to some things, but surely he can understand the extra stress is the last thing our girls need. Not to mention, we don’t need the added drama either.

  “Well, maybe we need to renegotiate the fucking deal then,” he spits angrily.

  “Not so fast. What’s this really about? Why is it all of a sudden important for me to be around when you’re here?” I enquire gently. Being nice to him while he got in one of his rages seemed to work to calm the beast down significantly quicker than entertaining one of his moods. He has great difficulty staying mad for long when I’m being sweet to him.

  “Why do you think it’s about anything else? Why can’t it just be about the fact my wife refuses to speak to me, and I’m fucking over being ignored?” I flinch at the harsh tone he uses. But it’s not his tone that’s the most upsetting. It’s him saying that I’m ignoring him that annoys me the most.

  “I’m ignoring you? You’re fucking kidding, right?” I screech. The fact our girls are in the next room doesn’t factor in when I start yelling at him. “Years, Saint. Years you ignored me, and them for that matter. We came second, third, shit, I don’t even know where we came on your priority list we were ranked that low. It was always all about you. Where you needed to go. What you had to do. When you had to be there. It never even crossed your mind there were four people left waiting and wondering where you were, and if it did it didn’t make a difference to you. So don’t bullshit me and say this temper tantrum is all because your feeling overlooked. I know you better than that, and you’d do well to remember that.”

  Saint takes a step forward placing his hands on the breakfast bar that separates us, and leans forward trying to intimidate me into backing down. It won’t work, but if it makes him feel better to try then he can have at it.

  “You’re right. There’s more to it, but you know what?” He asks to which I shake my head no. “No matter what you think you were never second, third, fourth, or anywhere other than number one on my list of priorities, Tilly. I get that you felt like you were and it’s my fault for not making it clearer how much I love you and our kids, but that doesn’t change the fact you were always first.” Shaking his head sadly he looks determined when he adds, “I found out some shit today that we’re going to need to talk about. Important shit. You’re going to need to take a break from shutting me out long enough to make that happen, babe, because what we need to discuss only you’ve got the answers to.”

  I’m curious, I won’t lie. But I have no idea what I could have the answers to that he couldn’t get elsewhere. I mean, Saint has a knack for finding out whatever he wants to know whenever he wants to know it. I’m not sure how he does it and I’d be willing to bet most of the time it’s not legal, but that’s never stopped him before. Begging the question, what could I possibly help him with?

  “I think we’ve done all the talking we need to for the time being, Saint. Let the dust settle for a while, and if you still want to talk further down the track we can work something out then,” I reply hoping he’ll agree.

  I should have noticed something was wrong when Saint straightened to his full height, clenched his fists at his sides, and started grinding his teeth. I wish I’d listened to him when he said I needed to pay more attention to my surroundings, because if I had, I would have felt the tension in the room escalate, and seen the fury rolling off him in waves.

  “Nice try, but that’s not going to cut it this time,” he mutters dryly. “The name, Elia
s mean anything to you?” He accuses through gritted teeth.

  I can’t answer him, because as the last sound leaves his lips my world goes black.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tobias

  “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…

  Or mad as hell, which would make you stronger because of

  your “hulk-like” anger. Either way there’s a benefit.”

  - Rotten eCard

  Just before she hit the floor I caught her in my arms pulling her tight against my body. Sitting us in the closest chair at the kitchen table I wrap one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist with my hand at her hip. It had been almost fifteen days since I’d had her in my arms, and albeit the reason for her being there was a shitty one, that didn’t make it feel any less right. Watching the color drain from your wife’s face, her jaw drop wide open, and her body go slack is a fucking scary experience. But knowing why, well, that’s terrifying.

  At church earlier today, Priest informed us, Elias ‘Demon’ Walker was coming back into town. Apparently with the intention of transferring back to the Blackwater chapter of Devil’s Spawn.

  Demon left Blackwater sixteen years ago, suddenly. No explanation, no notice, he didn’t even tell his Prez, VP, or his brother, Jones, he was going. A several weeks later Priest got a call from the President of the Montana chapter of Devil’s Spawn, Grimm, asking him to approve a transfer of charter for the one and only, Demon. It was the first anyone heard of Demon’s plans, but after a tense conversation between the two Presidents, and an open offer extended to return if he ever wanted to, Demon’s, Blackwater bottom rocker was officially replaced with a Montana one.

  Two years older than his brother, Jones, at sixty-three Demon is a beast of a man from the stories I’ve been told. At six-foot-four, two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle, and a left hook like a jackhammer, Demon fit into the role as Enforcer for the club perfectly. I’ve never met the man seeing as he hadn’t come back to, Blackwater once in the years he’d been gone, but his legendary temper lived on amongst the brothers he left behind. It wasn’t for lack of invitations from Jones and the rest of his brothers that he didn’t visit. They all but begged him to come home once in a while, but each and every one of them he declined, giving no reason as to why.

  Everyone had their theories as to why he took off, and like he knitting circle they are, the brothers all speculated and gossiped amongst themselves. Rumors were wild and varied to say the least. Anything from knocking up a one night stand he didn’t want to admit to fathering a kid with, to running off to join a monastery, which was a fucking ridiculous suggestion, but that just proves how juvenile these assholes can be sometimes. Eventually everyone moved on, but he was never forgotten. Demon’s name is still mentioned in passing sometimes, not often, but when it is it’s said with a good deal of awe and respect.

  Priest opening up Demon’s transfer back to Blackwater for discussion is a big thing. That sort of shit is usually isn’t vote worthy. Most of the time it’s at the discretion of the club President, and him alone to decide whether a member gets his original chapter’s bottom rocker back. The fact he wasn’t making the decision himself sent up a massive red flag for me. I’m not sure about my brothers, but I knew with certainty there was something bigger going on here.

  Priest isn’t an indecisive man, he’s the complete opposite actually. When he had an opinion, he gave it. If he wanted the final say, he’d knock you out to have it. If he wanted to rule with an iron fist, he could have. He made solid decisions, ones that were well thought out and beneficial to the club. No one would have questioned his patching Demon back in because he’d earned our unwavering trust, so his wariness to reinstate him was cause for concern in my book. My curiosity about Priest’s most recent change in behavior didn’t last long however. In the half hour that followed church being dismissed I learned more about my wife and her secrets than I could ever have imagined.

  Making a move to stand, I stopped in my tracks when Priest’s voice boomed across the room.

  “I’m going to need you to hang back a minute, Saint. You too, Dagger.”

  Glock turned from his position a few feet from the door asking,

  “You want me to stay?”

  Glock has been my best friend, my only real friend since I began prospecting for the club at eighteen. We may have had our issues, most of them because of my rabid jealousy of his and Tilly’s friendship, but we’d worked that shit out years ago and haven’t had problems since. Even throughout the whole Stacey shit fight Glock stood by my side supporting me. He didn’t agree with what I’d done, far from it, and he fucking hated that I followed through with Tilly’s decree that I live a double life, but regardless of him thinking I was making a huge mistake, he still stood by me.

  More than a handful of times he told me not to believe her, that it was a test and I was failing it by not putting my foot down telling her fuck no. I didn’t take his advice, I listened sure, but I didn’t think it was worth the risk of pissing Tilly off even more if I defied her. In hindsight he was right though. I shouldn’t have listened to her but that’s in the past, and there’s nothing I can do to change it now.

  “You’re not staying, Glock. This is between me, Pipe, Dagger and Saint. If he wants to fill you in later that’s his business, but do him the favor of giving him that choice, yeah?” Priest was firm in his command but not angry. If anything looked wary not pissed off, which was not an encouraging sign.

  I wracked my brain to think of what could possibly involve both me and Dagger not coming up with a single fucking thing. It isn’t that I dislike the man, because I don’t, we just didn’t have a lot to do with each other. Since taking over the First Rider patch I’d been busy, so if you weren’t my wife, my daughters, my son, or Glock and Lexi, I didn’t have much time to socialize with you.

  No to mention, Dagger is somewhat of an enigma. After nearly ten years as a patched member, and the almost two years he spent prospecting, we still know very little about his past. He plays his cards so tightly to his chest you’d think they contained national secrets or some shit. I doubt it, but you catch my drift. But he’s quiet, respectful, and loyal, so regardless of the blank spots in his story he’s a brother I trust, and one I’d happily have at my back.

  That said, don’t discount him as a threat on account for his usually laid-back nature, because Dagger’s every bit as dangerous as Reaper. Maybe more so. There’d been once, in the cage, where he’d been matched up with Steel in a friendly fight when I thought he’d actually killed the man. He was like the hulk on steroids that day, and it took four men all of their strength to drag him off Steel. The man was laid out on the floor, already unconscious and bleeding steadily from a cut above his eyebrow, and Dagger was still out for blood. I’ve got no idea what came over him, but it was like he blacked out and turned into killing machine. All of it; the fight, his not wanting to back down, and his loss of control was so uncommon it had all of us questioning why he’d all of a sudden snapped. Dagger wrote it off saying he’d had a bad day, but I don’t believe that shit for a second. But that aside, it made me think he’d make a fucking excellent Enforcer if Reaper ever stepped down if that’s the sort of thing he’s capable of at the flip of a switch.

  He isn’t huge at six-foot-one and two hundred pounds, but what he lacks in size he makes up for in determination and skill. When he eventually came out of the trance he’d been in Dagger’s face paled then he took off to parts unknown, and we didn’t see him again for next three days. Finally returning to the clubhouse after his hasty exit, he sought out Steel, apologized, and threw himself into work like a man possessed. He did whatever was asked of him, offered to take runs no one else wanted, basically he was kissing ass to make up for what he’d done. It wasn’t necessary, but he did it anyway. Steel didn’t hold a grudge, and the rest of us were more intrigued as to how he knew how to do that shit than we were pissed at him. I have to admit, even I wanted him to teach m
e a few of the moves he’d used, that shit was unreal.

  Inclining his head, Glock leaves closing the door firmly behind him. Dagger looks over at me from his position at the table his expression curious.

  “I’ve got two things to say. The first involves both of you. The second thing is between Saint and I, alone.” Motioning to Pipe he adds, “Pipe will only be here while I go over what I’ve got to with both of you then he’ll leave with Dagger. I want you to hear me out before you get yourselves worked up and start spilling blood. That shit’s hard to get out of carpet, and seeing as we’ve only got four club whores around these days it’s getting difficult to keep the place up to scratch without the added mess,” he warns.

  With nods from both of us, Priest doesn’t hesitate in sharing what he knows.

  “Got some information about a week back that concerns the two of you. I didn’t bring it to either of you then because I wanted to look into it and see if it held water first. Either of you remember old man Collins?”

  “Heard of him, I don’t know him though. I’ve heard he owns a track of land about thirty or so miles from here. He’s pretty much a recluse from what people say, but that’s the extent of what I know,” Dagger says with a non-committal shrug. Well, that’s more than I knew, so he’s doing better than I am. I don’t even know who the guy is.

  “Sounds about right. Years ago Devil’s Spawn bought the land the clubhouse and dorms sit on from him. He had properties all over Blackwater, some as far out as the Clearwater county line back then. When his wife died fifteen years ago leaving him with a fourteen-year old daughter to raise and no idea how to do it, he consolidated his holdings. He sold off the vast majority of land he owned, and took off up into the hills relocating permanently to his last remaining property. He doesn’t come into town much, once or twice a year maybe, if that.”