The Devil's Scars (The Road Devils MC Book 1) Read online

  She dragged herself across the living room to the kitchen, plunked the bags on the counter, started to unpack the food. She did that, and then with nothing but happiness in her heart, she fell on the sofa, exhausted.

  As she lay there with her eyes closed, she worked hard to summon the energy to drive the twenty-plus miles out of the city to IKEA. She groaned aloud at the thought of facing the Saturday crowds, but Keira needed a crib and a changing table and a high chair, so Zoe’s choices were limited here. If she had more time, Zoe would find something second-hand, but the baby would be there tomorrow, and shoving her in a dresser drawer to sleep was a no-go.

  “Argh,” she muttered to herself. “OK, move your ass, Zoe. Baby needs a bed.”

  She got to her feet, took a deep breath. Just then her cell rang. She glanced at the number, answered.

  “Hey, Wolf,” she said. “What’s up? How’s Fort Collins?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that I for sure won’t make it to the party tonight,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll need to stay here another night.”

  “Things not going well?”

  “Things are fine. I just want to make sure all the loose ends are tied up.”

  She knew better than to ask what that meant. Yeah, The Road Devils may have been running their businesses legally, but she wasn’t so damn sure about more personal shit. And what Dawson had done was nothing but personal.

  “Yeah, OK.” She shifted her weight a bit, trying to stretch out her sore lower back. “So I won’t show up either.”

  “What?” Wolf said. “How come?”

  “Because I don’t know anybody but you, Wolf.”

  “You know Kansas and Silver.”

  “Um. Not really.” She sighed. “Besides, I’m wiped out, and I still have to head out to Centennial.”

  “What for?” His tone sharpened. “What’s out there?”

  “IKEA.”

  “You have furniture, Zee.”

  “Not a crib.”

  “Aw, fuck. Of course. Sorry, baby girl… I forgot about that.”

  “It’s not your job to remember, Wolf. It’s mine. But I’ve been running in and out all morning buying clothes and food, and now I have to drive all the way out of town, and fight the weekend crowds at IKEA, then haul everything home and assemble it… it’ll take me hours, and the last thing I’ll feel like doing after is meeting a bunch of scary bikers.”

  “They ain’t scary.” Wolf considered. “Much.”

  “No, it’s OK. I’ll meet them another time. God, I’ll be smack next door to the bar and the clubhouse five or six days a week. Meeting them is inevitable.”

  “So skip the party, Zee, if that’s what you want. But no way I’m lettin’ you deal with all this furniture crap on your own.”

  She cocked her head. “Huh?”

  “Yeah. Not happenin’. I’ll send a few of the boys out to IKEA this afternoon in a cage, and they’ll bring you everything and put it together. What exactly do you need?”

  For one of the very few times in her life, Zoe was utterly, completely, totally stunned. The thought of a pack of scowling, leather-clad bikers descending on IKEA’s baby section and perusing cribs – among the happy families, and young couples, and glowing mommies-to-be – was literally breathtaking. Unable to stop herself, she giggled.

  “What?” Wolf said, loving that sound. It was so un-Zoe-like, somehow, that sweet little giggle coming out of a tall, tattooed, tough woman. “What’s funny?”

  “Where do I begin?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She took a deep breath. “Look, it’s OK. I can handle it.”

  “Baby girl.” His voice gentled. “I know you been handlin’ things on your own for a while now, and you don’t ask for help, even if you need it. That’s why I ain’t waitin’ for you to ask for my help, ‘cause I’d be waitin’ forever… I’m just givin’ it to you, whether you like it or not.”

  She was horrified when tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t speak.

  “So listen up,” he said. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not anymore. You’re home now, and you got me, and I know you ain’t comfortable around them, but you got the boys in your corner, too, believe me. We’ll do anything you need. You just ask us, Zee, and we’ll do it for you.”

  She swallowed hard.

  “Zee? You there?”

  “Yeah,” she managed to whisper.

  “You heard me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So. What do you need, baby girl?”

  “A crib.” She wiped her tears away. “A mattress, bed sheets and bumpers for the crib. A changing table. A high chair.”

  A pause, and she knew he was writing everything down. “Got it.”

  “Wolf?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, you relax, OK? Hang out, watch TV, unpack, have a bath, whatever. The guys will be there in a few hours with the baby stuff, and if you think you want to come to the party tonight, come to the bar with them or grab a taxi.”

  “I can drive.”

  “Not if you’re gonna have even one drink.”

  “But – ”

  “No ‘buts’. Someone will get you home safe when you’re ready to go, you just ask. We always have at least three sober guys, just in case.”

  “In case what?”

  “In case shit starts.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “So.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Go have a bowl of the mint chocolate-chip ice cream that I know is in your freezer, and kick back.”

  She burst into laughter. “God, Wolf. You know me so well, huh?”

  “I do. Like a sister.”

  “OK, then. I’ll wait here for the guys. And I’ll see about dropping by the bar tonight, OK? I’m picking up Willa and Keira from the airport at noon tomorrow, so it’ll be an early night no matter what.”

  “All good.” He paused. “Hey, Zee?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you’re here. Really glad.”

  “Yeah.” She brushed away a few more tears that bubbled up. “Me too.”

  **

  Kansas, Ice and Jinx stood shoulder-to-shoulder, staring down at the crib. They were way the fuck out of their element here, and they knew it, but they were going to get Zee’s baby girl the nicest damn crib in the place. If only they knew what the hell they were looking for.

  To their relief, the changing table had been straightforward – it was just a table that extended out from some shelves for stuff like diapers and cream and clothes. Even the high chair had been easy enough: they’d just picked the most expensive one, one with all the bells and whistles, like a sliding tray, shoulder and waist straps, decorated and padded backs that could be changed. But the crib was a whole different thing, and they were feeling the pressure.

  Jinx turned from the crib to the other men. “This one?”

  Lost at sea, they shrugged.

  “So… this one?” Jinx repeated.

  “What about this one?” Kansas said, wandering over to yet another crib that looked exactly the same.

  “It’s the same,” Jinx pointed out.

  “No, it’s not.” Kansas read the sign attached to the bars. “On this one, the side goes up and down.”

  “Oh.” Jinx blinked. “Does that matter?”

  “I fucking don’t know.”

  A gasp behind them caught their attention, and they turned around to see a little girl with her mother.

  “Mommy, he said a swear,” the kid whispered, horrified and delighted. “A really bad one.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that,” Kansas mumbled. “Just trying to figure out these goddamned… these gosh-darned cribs. They all look the same, you see.”

/>   Bianca Morgan stared at the three of them, even more taken aback than her daughter at what was standing in front of her. All three men were sporting tattoos and huge boots, they were all wearing matching leather vest things with patches that read ‘Road Devils’. She almost passed out when she realized that she was face-to-face with real, live motorcycle gang members. The urge to grab her daughter and run was pretty strong, but she didn’t want to piss them off.

  “You’re – you’re crib shopping?” Bianca asked them, aiming for terrified politeness. “For – for one of your babies?”

  “Naw, hon,” Kansas said in his rough voice. “Not one of ours. A friend’s.”

  The woman in the trim little cardigan and with a messy ponytail blinked at being called ‘hon’ by a guy with a shaved head and a neck tattoo.

  “Ummm. Well.” Despite herself, she walked a bit closer, thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to help them a bit. “We bought this one for Linda’s baby brother.”

  “You’re Linda?” Kansas said to the girl.

  She nodded shyly, clutching her Mom’s hand.

  “What’s good about this one is that the whole frame moves up and down,” Bianca said. “So when the baby is small, you can keep it all the way up, but when the baby starts to sit up or even stand up, you can lower the frame and mattress to the floor. That way, the baby can’t fall out or climb out and hurt themselves, and your friend doesn’t need to buy a whole new crib.”

  The men stared down at the frame, thinking about that.

  “That sounds good,” Kansas said.

  “So this one?” Jinx said for the third time.

  “Yeah,” Kansas said, and Jinx wrote down the code on his order form. “Now we need sheets and – what was it?”

  “Bumpers,” Ice said, speaking for the first time.

  “What are bumpers?” Kansas asked Bianca.

  She and Linda rolled their eyes at the cluelessness of men.

  “You tie them to the crib so the baby doesn’t bash their head against the bars,” Bianca explained.

  “Makes sense,” Ice said. “Shock-absorbers for impact. Like on a car.”

  “Exactly.” Bianca nodded. “There are some cute ones with the bed sheets.”

  “Well, we need sheets,” Jinx said. “So we’ll just head over there. Thanks for –”

  “Is the baby a boy or a girl?” Linda interrupted.

  “A girl,” Jinx said.

  “You ever bought anything for a girl before?” Linda asked him, skeptical and suspicious.

  Jinx shrugged, grinned a bit. Yeah, he’d bought things for girls before: drinks, and handcuffs, and sexy panties, and ribbed condoms. None of which were standard fare in IKEA.

  “Uh. Not a baby girl,” he told her. “Why?”

  She huffed. “Because you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  The men gazed down at her, thinking that her sass was awesome. Her mother looked embarrassed and petrified, though.

  “Linda,” she chided. “Don’t insult the nice men.” The big, tattooed, scary, criminal, nice men.

  “We’re not insulted,” Kansas said. “Linda’s bang-on, actually. We don’t know what we’re doing. We could use some help here, if you want to give it.”

  “Yes!” Linda sounded exasperated. “Of course I do. I know what girls like.”

  “Then lead on, honey,” Kansas said to her. “We need a set of sheets.”

  “Uh, no,” Bianca said, getting into the spirit of the thing now. “You need several sets of sheets.”

  “We do?” Jinx asked her.

  “You do. Babies go through sheets like crazy. They spit up on them, they drool on them, they… well. Their diapers can sometimes get a bit too full.”

  “Urgh,” Kansas said, shuddering at the words ‘full diaper’. “OK, we get it. So, maybe four sets?”

  “Five,” Linda said decisively. “Plus two sets of bumpers.”

  “How old are you, sweetie?” Jinx said.

  She blinked. “Almost six.”

  “You are darn smart, you know that?”

  “I know that.” She stopped in front of the shelves of bed sheets. “I’m best in my class at math and reading.”

  “I believe it,” Kansas said. “So… which sheets?”

  Linda took her job seriously, they were highly amused to see. After debating the merits of zebras versus giraffes, with Kansas an enthusiastic participant and a strong proponent for the giraffes because “long legs are awesome, honey”, they had all they needed. Or they thought they did.

  After thanking Linda and her mother, and dropping them off in the bathroom section of the store, the men headed for the check-out area. Their path led them straight through the toy section.

  Jinx paused. “Guys?”

  “Yeah?” Kansas said.

  “Do you think we should – should get the baby something? From us?”

  “Like what?”

  “I dunno.” Jinx looked around helplessly. “A – a teddy bear?”

  “What about this?” Ice asked, surprising his friends by holding up a mobile. “Don’t babies like these things?”

  The others shrugged.

  “Should we track down Linda and ask her?” Jinx said, only half-joking. “She’d know.”

  “Naw,” Ice said, his cold blue eyes showing a rare glimpse of humanity. “Let’s fly solo on this one, boys. Let’s get the… music thingy.”

  **

  Zoe opened the front door of her rented house, and watched as three guys carried in boxes and bags of stuff from IKEA. They stood in her living room, arms full, nodded at her.

  “Hey, honey. Kansas, Jinx, Ice,” said the one with a shaved head, dark eyes and a cool neck tattoo. “Where do we set this shit up?”

  “Zee,” she replied. “And over here.”

  She led them to Keira’s bedroom, stood aside, watched them troop right on in. It wasn’t a very big room to begin with, and the three of them standing in it made it look even smaller. God, these guys took up lots of space.

  “So.” The only one to speak so far set down everything, wiped his hands on his jeans. He approached her, hand extended, and in her shock at his good manners, Zoe actually extended her own. “Let’s do this properly, right? I’m Kansas. We spoke on the phone a few times.”

  “Yes. I remember.” Zoe smiled, making sure to not show her teeth. No sense being too friendly yet – not until she knew what she was dealing with with these three. “Thanks for the help today.”

  The one with long, dark hair and mint-green eyes waved his hand. “No problem, darlin’.”

  She almost sighed aloud at the pet name, decided to start keeping a mental list of every meaningless endearment that spilled out of these guys’ mouths. Maybe she could even make it a game of Bingo, or a drinking game where she’d take a shot every time some bullshit pet name got directed her way.

  Let’s see: so far I’ve had ‘baby girl’ – though Wolf gets a free pass on that one – and ‘sweetheart’, and now ‘honey’ and ‘darlin’’. Waiting on ‘doll’, ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ and then we’ll have all the usual suspects. These boys aren’t known for their originality, after all, and it is one hell of an effort to remember a woman’s name, huh?

  Zoe swallowed her sigh, and stayed focused on being polite. These strangers had just done her a massive favor, and they hadn’t done a single goddamn thing to hurt or offend her. Reminding herself to dial down the bitch vibe, she shook the second man’s hand now, offered him a small smile.

  “I’m Jinx,” he said, his green eyes somehow cool and sultry at the same time. She stared into them, feeling like she was looking at a crisp, sunny spring morning. “We’re glad you’re here. Maybe you’ll do me the honor of doing my next tattoo?”

  She dropped her eyes to his strong collarbone, teasingly exposed thanks to fou
r buttons on his denim shirt being casually undone. The ink across that sexy, hard chest was gorgeous, and she eyed it like the professional that she was.

  “Yeah,” Zoe said, unbending slightly now in the face of this genuine kindness. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

  “And this is Ice,” Kansas said, gesturing at the silent third man. Zoe turned to greet him, took one look at his face, slammed down all her defensive barriers again. Hard.

  Ice was the living, breathing epitome of every single thing that she feared in The Road Devils. Tall, broad, rippling muscles all over the goddamn place, close-cropped blond hair, hard face, mouth clamped shut in a firm, uncompromising line.

  But what really scared her was the blank, emotionless look in Ice’s ice-blue eyes. The stare that he gave her was freezing, biting cold, lacking anything remotely resembling warmth, kindness, or even basic politeness. It didn’t contain hostility, or dislike, or anger. It just didn’t contain anything; it was utterly devoid of anything human, good or bad. Even a flame of rage would be a relief, because it’d mean that he was actually capable of emotion.

  She’d just met the man, but she knew with everything that she was, that in the club’s previous life, Ice had been a club Enforcer. He was the guy who’d been sent out to eliminate any and all threats and problems – and he looked like he’d never lost one second of sleep over anything he’d done. Hell, possibly beating and killing men was the only thing that he really liked doing. Maybe it was the only thing that made him come alive, whatever the hell that meant for him.

  It was a huge relief when Ice stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, and merely nodded at her. Didn’t say a word, didn’t make any effort to be friendly. Zoe nodded back, thrilled that he wasn’t forcing her to touch him. She’d lay money that his grip would be rough and chilly.

  Idly, she wondered why Ice hadn’t gone with Dawson when he’d taken off and started his new one-percenter club. Wolf had told her that Ice was loyal to him, but surely Dawson’s criminal activities – and all the inevitable beatings and kills made necessary by partnering with a violent, criminal piece of shit like Kirk Jensen – were all way more Ice’s speed. Wolf’s kinder, gentler MC would have no use for Ice’s undoubtedly-extensive abilities… and Zoe found it hard to believe that a man like Ice would be happy in anything legit and by-the-book.