Saving marvel satans dev.., p.8
Saving Marvel (Satan's Devils MC Second Generation Book 4), page 8
Though the story’s no longer running, in my head, I picture her under siege in her own home, a place where she should be safe. How long can she remain hidden and refuse to give them anything?
Wizard seems to read my mind. “They’re not going to move on without a story,” he warns, then shrugs. “But you may not care. Nothing between the two of yous after all.”
He’s right that they’ll hound her until they’ve drained her dry now they’ve discovered her address. Don’t get involved, a voice inside me is saying. Virginia’s made it this far alone. She’ll be able to cope. It’s none of my business.
Nope. None of my fucking business at all. Although, hadn’t I kind of made it mine when we shared confidences? Goddamnit. Fuck knows why, but I can’t simply ignore that she’s dealing with this crap all on her own.
“I can’t leave her there to fend for herself.” My jaw clenches as my heart makes a decision without involving my head. Like me, she didn’t ask to get caught up in a bank heist.
Wiz claps his hand on my back and barks a laugh. “Somehow thought that’s what you were going to say, Brother.” He turns, surveys the room, then whistles loudly and circles his hand in the air. “Hound, Throttle, Drifter, Shooter, oh and Peg. Want to come kick some asses?”
Peg’s the first to get to his feet, his knee giving an audible creak. “’Bout time things livened up around here. Who we killing?”
“Chasing reporters away from Marvel’s new squeeze,” Prez yells back, with a wink in my direction.
“She’s nothing to do with me.” I huff, while checking in my pocket for my bike key. Fuck, I hope this doesn’t come back and bite me on the ass. Never in my thirty years with the MC have I got involved with a woman, but I’ve sure given the brothers some jibes for hooking up with theirs. I might be going to help Virginia out, but it doesn’t mean I intend to break my record. Whatever the facts are, my brothers are unlikely to care, and will be bound to try to get mileage from the situation. They’ll be yanking my chain if I’m not careful.
Payback from the times I gave them shit.
While I could opt for the quiet life, turn my back, and ignore Virginia’s problems, for some reason, I can’t. If they make more of it than it is, then that’s down to them. The simple answer to why I’m going to her rescue is that what’s happening to her is an injustice. That’s all it is. She’s a nice woman and doesn’t deserve this crap in her life.
I leave it to Wiz to give a brief rundown to the brothers tagging along while I go to my bike, mentally preparing myself and working out a plan. Sure, once we get there it will be child’s play for us to chase the reporters away, but thinking it through rationally, they’ll be back as soon as we’re gone. She’ll have to find somewhere else she can stay, family perhaps? But then, I remember her saying she had no one.
I throw my leg over my bike and come up with the obvious answer. I’ll get her to pack a bag then, making sure she’s not followed, we’ll escort her to a hotel.
Where someone’s likely to recognise her, seeing as her face was plastered all over the news today.
Goddamnit! I bring my clenched hand down on my thigh. This isn’t going to be simple. What the fuck can I do?
Put a prospect on her until she becomes yesterday’s news? That could work. I decide to ask Prez later.
I could stay with her myself. I’d keep the fuckers from the door. My fists should do the trick. My fingers flex at the idea.
But a nice lady like her wouldn’t want the likes of me in her home. We’d connected under circumstances that had us both stressed. She’s a citizen and I’m a biker. Hell knows, we’d normally have passed each other on the street with barely a glance at each other.
When Wiz signals he’s ready, and I fall into line behind the other bikes, I’m still no closer to coming up with a solution, and decide to play it by ear.
We ride in single file to better evade the potholes in the track, but once out onto the freeway, Drifter draws up alongside me. With Prez in the lead and the rest of us following two by two, we make our way into Tucson.
Wiz must have programmed the directions into his GPS as he unerringly takes us directly to the neighbourhood where Virginia apparently lives, then up one street and down the next. When we draw close, there’s no need for anyone to point out her house.
More vans and trucks have arrived since the news broadcast, and her front driveway is a mass of men and women holding a variety of microphones and cameras. As I come to a halt, I notice one cameraman is right up close, trying to take pictures in through one of her windows.
I see red and am off my bike in a move reminiscent of someone half my age. I run across the front yard and have him by the collar before I can think better of it.
“Get the fuck away,” I growl as I drag him back.
I’m about ready to punch him, but luckily Prez, his speed having matched mine, comes up to my side. “Leave him,” he instructs quietly but in a tone I can’t argue with. Then, as I reluctantly let the cameraman, who looks like he’s about to shit his pants go, Prez raises his voice. “Everyone, move the fuck back. This is private property.”
I remember Wizard, Drew as he was then, as a gangling teen when he’d first arrived on the compound. In his journey to become an adult, then prospect, patched member and finally prez, he’s grown taller and developed impressive muscles. Whilst he’s a gentle giant with his wife and kid, he can be intimidating to those who don’t know him.
As he’s just proved. With wary glances thrown his way, the reporters start to draw back without putting up a fight.
“Who the fuck are you?” one of the braver ones calls out.
“We just want to talk to Mrs Case-Roberts. Get her side of the story,” another voice sounds.
“You can’t tell us what to do.” They’ve obviously decided there’s safety in numbers, and as long as they stick together and at the edge of Virginia’s boundary, there’s not much we can do about them.
Wizard pulls himself to his full height, and Hound steps up alongside him, the two presenting an impressive front. “We’re Ms. Case’s security. And we’re here to see you keep off her property.”
When Peg and Throttle, equally tall and brawny, step forward and start herding the crowd back from the right side of the house, Drifter and Shooter take the left. It’s soon clear that while we can push them back onto the roadway, the news teams are settling in, and obviously aren’t going to drive off. Despite my expectations on seeing us they’d turn tail and run, that’s clearly not going to be the outcome.
Wizard and Hound put their heads together. All I can hear are a few grunts, but I’m not left in the dark for long.
Hound comes over to me. “Prez’s ringing a prospect to get a truck here. We’ll get your woman packed up and take her back to the compound.”
Immediately, I frown. My woman? She’s nothing to do with me. “I was thinking a hotel.”
“Seriously?” Hound glances behind him. “Have you not seen what’s going on?” His eyes narrow as they spy something. Following his line of sight, I notice a reporter’s knocking at a neighbour’s door. Guess they’ll try and dig up some dirt someway. He shakes his head as he turns back to me. “She can’t stay here.”
“She’s not my responsibility, Hound, and nothing to do with the club.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then what the fuck are we doing here? Prez said that yesterday you wanted to be fuckin’ buried with her.” His shoulders rise and drop. “Can’t think of a fuckin’ bitch I’d offer to do that for.”
How many times will that come back to bite me? “We were both stressed for fuck’s sake, and I was trying to keep her calm,” I hiss. “If she’d gotten hysterical, then we could both have been killed.”
He glances up to the sky before looking back down. His face hardens. “You were worried about her when it was your skin at stake, but you don’t give a damn about her now? I knew you were an asshole, Brother, just never realised how much of one you are.”
I might behave like an ass, but I resent others calling me an asshole to my face. Of course I want to help her, just like I’d help any acquaintance up against a problem they can’t solve.
“Got to know her a bit,” I admit. “Enough to know she doesn’t deserve this. Doesn’t mean she means anything to me.” Hound shakes his head and looks like he’s going to walk off.
Quickly, I run through all the alternatives and can’t find any. Virginia’s going to be hassled wherever she goes, and there’s only one place where we can guarantee she won’t be bothered and where she can at least get some breathing space. I throw up my hands. “Okay, wait up,” I growl. “If, and only if, Virginia accepts our help, she can come back to the compound.”
Hound spins back around and fixes me with that sergeant-at-arms stare. “Where you’ll take responsibility for her.”
Wizard’s come up alongside and has tilted his head. His lips curve as he waits for me to answer Hound’s statement which in no way was posed as a question.
“I already told you fuckers. She’s not my woman. She’s nothing to me.”
Wizard sighs. “If she’s nothing to you, then it looks like we’ve had a wasted journey. She’ll have to deal with these fuckers on her own.” He raises his hand. I notice it’s caught Peg and Throttle’s attention. He gestures toward the bikes and makes a cutting motion across his throat, signifying this outing’s a bust.
“Prez…”
His hard eyes meet mine. “You know this as well as I do, Brother. If a woman’s not an old lady or a sweet butt, then she’s no business being on the compound.”
“Or family,” Peg, overhearing, corrects with a scowl.
Wizard acknowledges his interjection with a raise of his chin.
“I haven’t met her,” Hound states, his lips pressing together. “She sweet butt material?”
I barely keep my hands at my sides as I snarl, “No she’s fuckin’ not.” My cheeks are burning. “And you’re wrong, Prez. Plenty of times women have come in under our protection.” I think for a moment. “Like Sophie.”
“Horse brought her in. Took responsibility,” Peg informs us. “Wraith stepped up when Horse wasn’t around.”
And look where that ended up. She became the ex-VP’s old lady.
“Becca…” I’m clutching at straws.
“Rock’s.”
“Tash.” I hold out my hands.
“Blade took her under his wing.”
Reluctantly, as I remember, yet she became his old lady and they’ve been together for years.
Try as I can, I rack my brains, but come up with no one who came to the club for protection and didn’t end up as someone’s ball and chain.
Prez takes pity on me. “Doesn’t mean she’ll end up being your old lady, Marvel. But we can’t have a civilian having free roam on the compound. Not without someone looking out for her.” His sympathy fades as he looks back to the bikes. “So, it’s up to you, Marvel. If you’re feeling uncomfortable, maybe it’s best we leave her here.”
My fingers curl into my palms as I realise how fucked I am. Either I leave a perfectly nice lady to face these lions alone, or… “She comes back to the compound.” When Hound looks at me quizzically, I take a breath and try to calm my tone down. “Where I’ll take fuckin’ responsibility for her.”
To his credit, Prez doesn’t give a hint of a smile as he raises his chin. “Now that’s decided, it’s probably time you go talk to her. You might need to call on your diplomacy to get her to agree.” Yeah, like persuading a civilian to come to a motorcycle club is going to be easy. As Wizard jerks his head toward the door, I realise it’s stayed firmly shut all the time we’ve been here.
If Prez thinks she’s going to need someone who can be diplomatic, then maybe he should have sent someone else. I’m more of a “this is what you’re going to do, guy,” and I’m not sure how that will go down. Though it’s her that’s got the choice—accept assistance from the MC or stay here alone to front it out.
Rolling my shoulders to settle my cut, I grimace, not certain which she’d choose. If we hadn’t gotten caught up in all that shit yesterday, there’d be no decisions to make.
As I head for her front door, I realise I’m little more than a stranger, and feel like an intruder pushing myself into her life. Worse, I’m proposing to drag her into mine. Fuck knows what a woman like her will make of the compound.
The house is so quiet it crosses my mind she might not be in. But her car’s in the driveway. Raising my hand, I rap my knuckles on the wood. No answer sounds.
I do it again, with the same lack of response. The third time, I accompany the knock with my voice, calling out loudly, “Hey, Virginia, it’s me, Marvel.”
Silence is my reply. Is she in? Is she hiding? Is it also me she wants to avoid? Fuck knows, but we made each other no promises yesterday, and under normal circumstances would never meet again. I wouldn’t blame her if she thought as little of bikers as she thought of the press. Before I can make the decision to turn away and give up, I hear the bolt being shot back, and the door opens a crack.
“Oh my God, Marvel. It is you. What are you doing here?” She steps back, holding the door only just ajar, and frantically gestures for me to come inside. As soon as I’m over the threshold, she slams the door shut as if worried a reporter would sneak in behind. “I heard the bikes but didn’t realise you were with them—”
“I saw them harassing you on the news,” I explain, cutting her off. “Couldn’t leave you here alone to face all that.”
Her face looks strained, her cheeks drawn. “I never thought, never expected…” Her voice trails off, and as she tenses her hands and form fists. “Why would you care?” Her brow creases.
That’s a fucking good question that I’ve no answer to. “I know your story.” I attempt a response. “Know you deserve none of this. I came to see what I could do.”
Her eyes close briefly before reopening, and I suspect it’s with relief that she’s no longer on her own.
“If it wasn’t the bank robbery, there’d have been something else. They’re never going to leave me alone.”
With the juicy story in her background, she’s probably right. And I can’t always be here to save her. Damn, but for some reason that thought hurts.
I take a second to examine her. She’s wearing leggings and a tight tee that her middle-aged figure actually lets her carry off, and her face, though clear of makeup, looks as attractive as I remembered it was. Her hair is brushed out and shiny, but there’s a haunted look in her eyes. Heaven knows I owe nothing to her, except that maybe both of us kept each other alive. I try to think of something that could be helpful.
“What if you gave a statement?” I suggest. If she said something that would satisfy them, then that might be a way to get the press off her back. The bonus being, I could leave and she wouldn’t need the club’s protection. She could get on with her life, and I could get back to mine.
Her eyes roll. “They want more than a statement, Marvel. They want to dissect my life. I’ve tried ‘no comment’, in the past. I’ve tried to direct them to asking my ex why he’d done what he’d done, but they want the gossip, the dirt.”
My blood boils on her behalf. “There’s no dirt, or none touching you.”
She huffs. “I’ve no doubt they’ll find something or make it all up. I’m not supposed to be going on with my life, Marvel. I’m supposed to be flagellating myself because of all the families Ralph harmed. I’m supposed to suffer, and that, out there,” she pauses to wave her hand, “is all part of making sure I am.”
“You’re a victim.” It’s obvious. But what’s also clear is that doesn’t matter one damn to the people who can sell stories to news channels instead of doing an honest day’s work.
“I don’t know why you’re here, Marvel, but,” she gives me a small smile, “on my part, I’m glad you came. I was going out of my mind. But on yours? They’ll hound you too if they think you’re connected with me.” She bites her lip. “I think you ought to go before you become part of their story.”
She’s given me an insight into her. Even now, she’s thinking of me and not herself, something I could never have accused Davina of. Maybe that’s why I say what I do next. “I ain’t going nowhere. Or not alone. Not leaving you alone to deal with this. You’re coming with me. You pack up what you need to bring with you for a few nights, or however long it takes for the next news story to emerge, and in the meantime, you’ll stay with us on our compound.”
Damn. I was right. I’m no politician. All I can do is say things straight. Glancing at her, I wonder how she’ll take it, and whether I’ve just made her get her back up.
Her jaw drops. “On your compound?” She doesn’t voice the words, biker compound but she might just as well have.
Diplomacy. That’s what Wizard had said.
I’ve never had to sell the place before, but I think I need to now. Fuck knows she’ll be expecting the worse. “Yeah, our compound.” I rest my foot on the seat of a chair and lean over my thigh. “Years back, it was an old vacation resort. Devils bought it burned out and cheap and have done it up. Doubt it’s like anything you expect. We’ve even got a swimming pool if you can believe that. You might be staying with bikers, babe, but you won’t be slumming it. You’ll have your own suite.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “I don’t give a damn about what facilities you’ve got, but why are you suggesting this? We don’t know each other apart from having spent a few hours together, and that was under duress.”
As her view tallies with mine, I shrug. “Prez seems to think as I offered to be buried in the same grave, that we’ve got something going on.”
She snorts, then wipes her nose and blushes. “You and me? That’s crazy.”
I nod my head. I know. It doesn’t bother me that I’m far out of her league. If I were in the market for a woman, and I’m not, there wouldn’t be a cat’s chance in hell we could make it work. I’m pragmatic if nothing else.
