Page 69 of Demon
“Choking him? That’s not any fucking better!” Anger now. My body was calming, the panic subsiding, anger dashing in to replace it.
“It’s the only way they could have stopped him. He’d switched to crazy. And if he’d killed one of the Notorious, World War Three would have started right then and there. We aren’t ready for that, even if they’re rubbing shoulders with the Bloody Hand. There’s an army to be built first.”
She tugged at my arm again, and this time I let her pull me to my feet and up the hill until we were safe among the tents. The Kings’ flag flapped in the breeze, it’s emblem barely visible in the darkness, but occasionally a stray light from the stages below us would light up a laughing crowned skull.
“Is that what will happen? A biker war?” My voice sounded suddenly loud, away from the obnoxious level of the music at the main stage.
“Probably. And almost certainly if Demon keeps knocking out key officers of other MCs.”
“What?” The voice behind us was gruff. When I glanced at Suzy, she’d squeezed her eyes shut, as if to pretend the voice hadn’t spoken. “What the fuck has Demon done now?”
I stared toward the familiar tone, a shadow among shadows moving in front of a tent. Moving slowly, like every step was taking up immense effort.
“Nothing, Ste. Just a bit of a barney down by the tents.”
“What sort of barney? And why is Demon’s lass up here by herself?”
“I…I’m just tired,” I added, following Suzy’s lead.
“Cut the crap.”
Beside me, Suzy let out a slow long breath.
“He…err…well he…em…he just knocked out Thrash.”
The name meant nothing to me but the brutish red-head that had landed with a thud at my feet, I had seen earlier today. Alongside this Bloody Hand geezer that they were all so dramatic about.
“Fuck’s sake!” Ste coughed suddenly, a hacking, disgusting noise, the motion gripping him as Suzy and I stood silently for the next few seconds.
The dark-haired woman from inside the tent moved out behind him, wrapping her arm across his shoulders and talking to him in a low voice. Then she raised her head, and although I couldn’t make her out much in the darkness, I was pretty sure she was shooting me a look.
“Fucking Demon,” she said to the Kings’ President, his cough settling down and then I was sure she was looking straight at me. “There’ll be some right fucking consequences now he’s knocked out the Vice President of the Notorious. They’ll not let this rest, Ste.”
“You think?” he spat and then the coughing started again until it sounded like he was violently throwing up.
*****
Water cascaded down my back and over my shoulders, warm and soft, massaging and cleaning. Three days without a shower had made me feel disgusting. Three days walking through grass, looking over my shoulder, wondering whether a war would erupt around us at any second. But the war that was currently brewing was in the Kings’ own ranks. Some of them had wanted Demon punished for what he had done. Others had merely shrugged as if it made no difference, anyway. And Ste, he’d been quiet. Much too quiet, as Demon had muttered for the rest of the weekend.
I was pleased to be home, or back to Demon’s home, anyway. The dog had bounded around us in excitement when we had returned, and the young lad who’d been dog and house sitting had cleared off just as quickly.
“God, I needed that,” I said into the steam that had collected in the bathroom.
“Do you know what I need, darl’?” an answer came from the thick, humid mist.
I jumped, slipping in the shower tray, my feet skidding out from almost under me as I braced my hands on the wall in front.
“Shit! Demon!”
He chuckled, a low easy noise, one I’d not heard over the last few days. He was relaxed now, and different when it was just us. The glass door of the shower squeaked against the frame. I glanced over his almost naked body. At the ripple of muscle over his stomach, at the wisps of hair that led down to the monstrosity of a cock bulging against his underpants.
“My face is up here, darlin’” he spoke, tipping my chin up with his forefinger, our eyes meeting, that same throb of hunger in his as I could feel between my legs.
Somewhere in the house, a doorbell shrieked, loud and persistent.
“Fuck’s sake,” Demon grunted, before dropping his hand, looking at me apologetically and then walking away.
It wasn’t the voices I heard that had caught my attention when I padded out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped firmly in place. It was the dog lying on the floor at the door, a strange high-pitched whining coming from her throat. Kinobi looked at me, then up at the door, and then back at me again. And it was as if she had planted that thick, heavy feeling of dread in my stomach. But maybe it had always been there, built up over the last few days, gradually building, almost unnoticeable, until suddenly there it was.