Page 53 of Demon

“I dunno, Demon. If I don’t turn in, then I don’t get paid.”

“Then I’ll pay you.”

“I’m not a hooker.”

“I know you’re not. And I don’t want your pussy, Ciara, not right now. Just your body in my bed. In my arms.”

Ciara looked up at me, a half-smile on her face, beautiful deep brown eyes capturing mine. Not that I had put up much of a struggle.

*****

“The product is moving nicely,” Magnet said, slapping a thick white envelope down on the weathered table in front of us. “This is the first of the return on investment for the club.”

Somehow, despite the raid by the street gang we were all still trying to get our hands on, Magnet had turned his bad luck around. For once, I’d thought he’d fail; I wanted him to fail. No man should have this much luck in his life. No matter what happened, Magnet always came out on fucking top, and it pissed me off.

“Good work,” Indie answered from the head of the table, at my father’s usual seat.

Our father was recuperating, sort of. He’d been discharged after the chest infection and resulting pneumonia had cleared up, but his breathing was still laboured. Supposedly he was being looked after by his old lady, but I wouldn’t put it past her to be rubbing her hands in glee at any potential demise. And I didn’t trust his Will to leave us anything in that event. I pushed the thought from my mind back into the pot of darkness at the back of my brain, along with the things Ciara had told me and my own black thoughts.

“Demon! Demon! You with us?” Indie barked, dragging my attention from way back in my brain.

“Yeah.”

“What’s the craic with the rally?”

“It’s all in hand.” It was a half lie.

I had a shitload of jobs left to do that I hadn’t done because I was constantly distracted by Ciara. She was still staying at my place, and I’d convinced her to take a few days off work, or at least the coffee shop. Despite the shithole thatTrouble on the Tynewas, she seemed to enjoy it. It was the friends she’d made, she told me, and some of the punters she was fond of, Billy Carmichael being one. And so, I’d spent every night there with her.

Granted, I’d organised some entertainment that I’m sure would go down well. That was, we were bringingTroubleto the Noise in the North Rally. But I still had to organise almost all the security firms, and make sure there were enough bars and alcohol to satisfy near 10,000 thirsty bikers. Noise in the North was the biggest rally north of the midlands, and it was a goldmine of cash for us, legitimate and otherwise.

“Aye. Entertainment all sorted. Just the heavies and the alcohol to go.”

“Better get that fucking drink sorted, Demon,” Fury piped up. “There’ll be a fucking riot if we run out.”

“Told you I’m on it. Tez has found some that fell off the back of a wagon. So that will be almost pure profit.”

And so, Church went on. The last of the arrangements for the rally thrashed out. The last orders given.

“How’s Ste doing?” Reap asked at the end. “Will he be at the ride?”

Indie looked around the room, at the concerned faces of the men in the leather cuts.

“He’s not good, lads. I’ll be standing in for him for a while. And right now, he needs to rest.”

“Doubt he’ll be getting much of that with that fucking sex crazed ol’ lady of his bouncing on his cock,” Fury grinned.

I shuddered. The last image I needed was that. The room of men of various ages broke out into hearty laughs. But I didn’t feel it, and when I looked across at my brother, sitting at the head of the table, his eyes betrayed the forced expression of amusement on his face.

Chapter Twenty Five

Ciara

I’d taken a full week off from work, or at least the coffee shop job. The money I made fromTroublewas too good to miss and at the quaint little coffee shop in the centre of Newcastle I at least got paid for holidays. Not many, but enough to take a bit of time off. The weather had dried up after days of rain, yet the temperatures were still too low for the end of June. But this was the North East, and, like Ireland, it loved a good, wet and cold summer.

“I got you these,” Demon said as he walked into the bedroom, dropping the heavy leather onto the bed. “Bike jacket and trousers,” he added when I stared at them for too long.

“And what would I need those for?”