BANE: A Devils' Due MC Romance Novel (14 page)

Then he lied down on the bed, next to me.  He rested his forearms over his eyes, as if he was preparing to sleep.

“W-What are you doing there?” I was compelled to ask him.

“Gotta get some Zs,” he answered.  “We have to move early tomorrow...
very
early... so might as well recharge early, too.  It’s gonna be a long day.”

“Yeah, but...” I tried to argue.

“But what?”

“Aren’t you... I dunno... supposed to sleep somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else?” he repeated, surprised.  He opened his eyes and looked around the small motel room.  “Like where?  There’s no other bed and I don’t see no couch.”

“Uhm... well...” I wanted to suggest that he could bunk on the floor, but I hesitated.  That might be demanding too much from him.  I didn’t realize that my gaze gravitated to the deck beside the bed.

He noticed.

“Shit!  ‘Ya want me to sleep there?!” he yelled.  “No way, kid!  You know, giving ‘ya my room and my bed back at the clubhouse is one thing.  I mean, the lobby has several couches where I could get some shut-eye.  But here?  There’s only the floor, and the hard surface will just make my spine ache even worse than it already does.”

I sighed in resignation.  I grabbed a pillow and placed it on the ground.  I have decided to sleep on the floor myself.

Then, he held my hand.

His grip was strong, but it wasn’t forceful.  His touch was cold, but it was rather reassuring.  I turned to look at him... his eyes were filled with remorse and... and... and what seemed like longing...

“The bed’s big enough for both of us,” he gently said.  “Just close ‘yer eyes and get some rest.  Ye’ll still be wearin’ ‘yer clothes when ‘ya wake up.  I guarantee that.”

He was a stranger... someone who I haven’t even met until two weeks ago, the night when they went to our home to kill my father.

But somehow...

Somehow... when he said those words... when he made that promise...

I believed him.

He gave me his helmet, like he usually did before I rode his bike.  I was putting it on when I decided to ask him about what transpired the night before, in the middle of his sleep while I was still awake.

“So... Lala is really your daughter?” I asked.  “She’s not some name you just made up when the Italians abducted me yesterday?”

That caused him to pause as he was just about to mount his bike.  He gave me a cold stare.

“What made ‘ya say that?” he demanded to know.

“You were dreaming last night.  You were twisting and turning in bed while calling out her name.  I... I wanted to wake you up, but I didn’t... didn’t know if you’d like that.”

He shook his head.  His hand grabbed the handle bar for support. 

“Yeah, yeah... she’s my kid,” he replied as he gazed on the grass below his feet.

“That’s great!” I said, an instinctive response.  “How old is she?”

He didn’t answer immediately, as if he was contemplating on whether or not I deserved to know.  It bugged me a lot because all I was asking for was her age.

“She’s eighteen, I think,” he finally said, though with a whole lot of reluctance.

“You think?  You’re not sure?”  I was surprised by how little he knew about his own daughter.

“Well, I haven’t seen her since she was eleven... or nine... or eight... I can’t remember... we’re not really close.”  He wasn’t comfortable with the subject, that much was very obvious. 

“She’s just as old as me,” I mentioned.

“Yeah, so?  Big fucking deal,” he retorted grumpily.

“That means you’re old enough to be my dad,” I said, failing to restrain a laugh.

“Shut up!” he yelled.  “Get on the bike.  We have to leave.”

Less than three minutes on the road and he slowed down along Highway 15, just before Clearmont.  We were met by two bikers who wore the Devils’ Due colors.  Bane nodded at them and we sped off once more.  The two riders flanked the rear, making a V-formation with Bane taking the point.

Fifteen minutes later and we slowed down again as two more of his brothers joined us.

Around twenty-five minutes more and we arrived at the clubhouse.

A lot of people were inside... patches, prospects, hang-arounds, and the girls.  As expected, the girls started hurling curses at me as soon as I entered the lobby.

“There’s the traitor’s spawn!”

“She caused all this trouble!”

“Just kill her and get this over with!”

“We don’t need another war!”

“How many lives will be lost because of her?”

Bane purposely walked ahead of me, slow enough for me to catch up with him.  He extended his arm a little to his side, an intuitive attempt to cover me from the hatred that greeted my arrival.  It was a kind gesture, one which I appreciated a lot.

Come to think of it, Bane has done so much to protect me.  Yesterday, he gambled his own life just to ensure my safety.

The insults and expletives continued to pour, until a booming voice ordered them to stop.

“Shut your mouths, bitches!” the man screamed and complete silence immediately followed.  Whoever he was, he commanded a lot of respect, it seemed.

From the crowd that formed in front of us - a mass of kutte-wearing guys and scantily-clad females - emerged a man who, with his narrower frame and his carefree stance, wasn’t as physically imposing as his brothers... yet he possessed a kind of charisma that his brethren lacked.  Ice blue eyes, long and curly black hair brushed back by a bandana that carried the colors of the American flag, well-defined facial qualities made even more prominent by his bony features, and a smile that revealed a perfect set of whites.

There was regality in his stride, a sense of entitlement in the way he stood, and undeniable pride that accompanied his grin.  I had little doubt as to who he was.

Bane approached him and they hugged.  “Welcome back, Prez,” he said, confirming my hunch.

“It’s good to be back, brother,” the president replied as he squeezed Bane’s shoulder.  “I heard you ran into some... problems... yesterday.  You look like shit, man.  Are you okay?  Are you injured somewhere under your kutte?”  He playfully punched Bane’s stomach.

Henry James “Loco” Truman.  President of the Devils’ Due Motorcycle Club, Wyoming Chapter.  My father has spoken of him a lot, but none of those stories were pleasant.  He hated Loco.  For my dad, Loco was the leader of the new generation of Devils who
stole
the club from the veterans like him. 
He didn’t even serve in the military,
my father once said,
he and his ‘New Kids on the Block’ friends
, whatever that meant. 

Looking at Loco at that moment, however, made me wonder if my dad’s hatred for him was completely justified.  Loco seemed like a rational man, contrary to what his alias implied, and something about him told me that he had a kind heart... or at least, kinder than the other people in their club.

“‘Yer bumhole still intact?” Bane kidded him.

“Heh!  I hooked up with Bastion inside.  Had him pick up the soap during bath time,” the president shared.

Then he looked over Bane and eyed me intently.  His smile disappeared, replaced by a very serious expression.

“This the girl everyone’s talking about?” Loco asked.

“Yeah!  That’s the rat’s daughter!  Burn her alive, Prez!” one of the girls screamed.  I couldn’t see her from the crowd.

“I told you to shut the fuck up, cunt!” Loco shot back angrily as he pointed towards the direction from where the voice came from.  Then, he looked at me once again... and his grin returned.

“Lana O’Reilly,” he said as he approached me.  “I dunno if you remember me.  The last time I saw you was when you were a teeny, weeny toddler.  You were like, what?  Four or five or six back then?  And I was just a prospect.  And now?  My, oh my... how much you’ve grown!”  He took my hand, drew it close to his face, and kissed it.

“Yeah, yeah... she’s the girl,” Bane interrupted him. 

“And the Captolis want her?” the president asked, his eyes never left me.

“Yes,” a voice from behind him answered.  I recognized it as Trevor’s. 

“What for?” Loco wondered.

“Retribution,” Trevor answered.

“I see,” Loco closed his eyes and bowed his head.  “Such a pity.  Those dimwits can be very narrow-minded at times.”

“So, what’s the plan, Prez?” Bane wanted to know.  “They tried to take the girl yesterday, and they had no qualms about killin’ me when I refused.”

“That’s a blatant show of disrespect!” Loco furiously remarked.  “Those motherfuckers!  I guess losing their labs caused them to lose their damn minds.”

“I agree,” Bane said.  “What do we do now?”

Loco rubbed his chin and turned around.  He started to walk towards the throng of patches from where he came from.

“We should protect the club,” he calmly uttered.

“Yes.  Yes we have to,” Bane acknowledged.  “Should we arrange a counterstrike?  Send scouts to monitor their movements?  Assign people to the districts we hold?”

“We have...
planned
... our next move while you were away, Bane,” Loco stated as he joined their other brothers.

Then, two of the patched members appeared from behind me and grabbed my arms.

“B-Bane?” I tried to call his attention.

His eyes darted towards me and he was shocked by what he saw.

“What the fuck are ‘ya doin’?” Bane asked the two patches who seized me.  He turned to face Loco.  “Prez... what’s the meaning of this?”

“We have to protect the club,” Loco replied without even bothering to look at him.  “So... we have to give them the girl.”

Horror devoured every part of my being.  The fear I felt threatened to consume my soul.  For a while, I thought I was safe here... that Bane and Trevor would keep me alive, just as they promised my father.  But as I looked at the vice-president, he couldn’t even return my gaze.  Instead, he had his head bowed down, a picture of sadness and defeat.  He knew that there was nothing he could do to help me.

But Bane... he remained unyielding.