Page 24 of Mac (Demented Souls #7)

"Fuck." Mac hadn't wanted to hear that. He'd been hoping it was a distraction, not that they'd be fooled again, but at least it would tell them what they weren't looking for, because who would distract you from what they were doing by claiming someone else was doing the same thing?

"You said that already."

"And I'll probably say it several more times.

Fucking shit. We've got a trafficking ring pulling kids through our territory.

" The words even tasted bad and he picked up the mug to wash the flavor from his mouth.

He took a long pull and set it back down, but it didn't help.

"First, we have to figure out if it's true, but assuming it is, we've got to figure out the route.

They'll have habits and routines that we need to figure so we can watch for them to come through and stop them.

Permanently. This isn't something we can ignore. "

Savage had been moving around them, cleaning up and wiping down tables.

They hadn't paid him much attention because while he might not be a patched member, he was just too new for that, he was an ex-seal and that meant his security clearance was probably higher than half the brothers, and he knew what their club was about, or he wouldn't be here.

They didn't normally let prospects in on private club business, but none of this was specific, not yet, and Savage would likely end up on any mission anyway.

"I don't want to butt in, but I couldn't help but overhear most of what you've been talking about. It's pretty quiet in here and without some kind of background noise, voices carry."

"I'll remember that." Tuck gave Savage a wary look.

"Anyway, I know I'm just a prospect, and I don't have a vote yet, but I'm with Mac on this one. We can't ignore this."

Tuck sighed again. "I feel the same, I just wanted to make sure it wasn't just me and my gut before I took it to the whole club. I'll check in with the other officers, but how do you feel about pulling all the prospects in on this vote?"

"I think we should. If nothing else, it gives them a chance to have a say on what they risk their lives on, not that they usually get much choice.

" Mac shot the president a smirk. It was true.

Part of being a prospect was doing what you were told without question.

They'd all been through it and they'd all, well, all that had been patched in, had managed it.

"I don't think any of them will choose to stand on the sidelines while we take out this kind of scum. "

"Hell, I'd even refuse a weapon for this one. It's not usually my choice, but this kind, I want to take up close and personal. I want to make them hurt."

Mac turned and gave the prospect his full attention for the first time since he came in.

"Fuck, you really are Savage." He watched as the other man shrugged.

Normally Mac would have called a prospect a kid but being a SEAL tended to pound all of the kid out of you, fast. Besides, the man was pushing thirty, and while some were still kids at fifty, Mac suspected Savage had been one of those who was old at eighteen.

He certainly had been by the time he'd made twenty-five.

"That's what they call me."

"You willing to share why they call you that?"

"Not yet. And not sober."

"Want to pour yourself a drink and join us?"

Savage shook his head and kept working. "Not tonight, thanks."

"Enough." Tuck called Mac's attention back to him.

"We need to come up with a plan of attack for this ring, because I'm not willing to take it slow and gather information for weeks or months.

I want to handle them and wipe them out.

I'll check with everyone else, but my stand is we try to do it legal, but if shit goes sideways, legal isn't the priority, getting rid of them is. "

"Fuck yeah." Mac took another long drink, nearly draining the rest of the beer in one long pull. Damn. With more talk like this he was going to need at least one more, possibly more if it went on much longer. "You sure know how to ruin an amazing day." He set the nearly empty mug down with a thump.

"Oh? Did you have something going on?"

Mac smirked. "I was in bed with my neighbor. She's something else."

Tuck shook his head. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to shit where you sleep? Screwing your neighbors is a good way to end up with neighbors who hate you."

"Yeah, and normally I wouldn't sleep with her, but it's more than just that. I wasn't planning it. I was actually trying to avoid it... until I found myself sitting on her couch with her sweet little body pressed against me while she kissed the shit out of me."

Tuck shook his head and stood. "I don't have time to fix your love life.

Remember that when she dumps your ass." The president gave Mac one last long look then headed for the stairs that led up to the personal rooms on the second floor, shaking his head as he went.

Mac took another drink and sat staring at his mug long after he heard the door close above.

"You want another?" Savage motioned to the nearly empty mug several minutes later. Mac stared at the glass for several seconds, trying to talk himself out of it.

"Yeah, might as well." His sleep had already been interrupted; he'd never get any more sleep without help.

Especially after what they'd been talking about. Not Elyse, the shit Tuck had wanted to talk to him about. Mac shook his head, still marveling that the president had wanted his opinion, had valued it enough to call him in when there weren’t others around to talk.

With just the two of them left in the place, it didn't take Savage long to deliver the fresh drink.

"Take a load off." Mac used a toe of his boot to push out a chair on the far side of the table and watched the other man.

"I don't know." Savage eyed the seat as if it were likely to explode if he sat.

"Jailbait won't care, you've cleaned far more than your predecessors ever did at the end of a night."

"There wasn't much else to do the last few hours. The prez told me I could call it a night, but that would be leaving him to serve himself. Somehow that didn't seem right." Savage pulled the seat out a little more, then sat.

"Damned overachieving frogs," Mac muttered and shook his head. "Going to make us all look bad." He watched the prospect out of the corner of his eye, looking for some kind of reaction, any kind.

"Frogs? That would make you what? A jarhead?"

Mac did his best to look offended. "Well, I never! Do I look like a window licker to you?"

Savage chuckled. "Well, you're not a flyboy."

"No," Mack shot the other man a wry half-grin. "I'm not a pampered prick either."

"You're not a puddle pirate, not land locked in the middle of the desert like this, so that means you must be a trench monkey."

"Took you long enough." Mac took a pull from his beer.

"Where'd you serve?"

"Middle east, we called it the sand box then, not sure what you're calling it now." Mac shook his head. "It was a long time ago and I've forgotten more than I remember about that time."

"There's a lot of it that's not worth remembering. If I could forget it, I would."

"Give it time. Some of it fades, some of it never does."

"You're not all that much older than me."

Mac lifted one brow and stared at the younger man for a moment. "I'm more than half again your age."

"I'm older than I look."

"I've been told the same but considering what I know I'd place you somewhere between twenty-seven and thirty."

Savage's eyes went wide for a moment. "Damn, you're good. I turned twenty-eight last month." He narrowed his eyes at Mac. "You didn't guess that just by looking at me."

"Nope. We got a little information before you got here. Like I said. Considering what I knew... like you’re being a SEAL, and the average age a SEAL leaves.

We'd have heard if you'd been discharged for something like an injury or anything else that stood out.

We aren't what we seem, and in order to maintain that cover, we have to know what kind of person we're bringing in before they arrive.

It's our lives on the line. I'm sure you understand, considering. "

Savage nodded. Mac had no doubt that he'd done at least one thing as a SEAL that had him relying on a cover, at least for a little while, to get the job done.

That meant he would know how important it was that they check out anyone who would or could be let in on what the Demented Souls really were.

"I get it." Savage fell silent for a minute then leaned close and lowered his voice. "Hey, I wanted to ask. What's the deal with the women? It seems like some know what's going on, and others have no clue."

"That's actually true." Mac fought the urge to laugh at the surprised look on the other man's face.

"The whores, of course, have no clue, and never will.

Jailbait knows we're not what we seem but doesn't seem to want to know more.

Same for a couple others. Krissi, Deanna and Amber know what we are.

Krissi is Ruger's ol' lady and she does what she can to help out, mostly here or at the businesses, her father is one evil son of a bitch, but she wants nothing to do with him and has proven it.

Deanna and Amber belong to Kinard and Crash respectively, both kind of stumbled into it at first, we had people who needed medical aid, and since they have training, and were on hand at the time, they got pulled in, then as they've asked questions, they've learned more. "

Savage nodded and seemed to be committing everything Mac told him to memory. Mac didn't know how much he would remember, but he seemed to be at least trying. Another drink and Mac watched bubbles rise in his beer for a minute before checking the clock. 4:30 a.m.

"Fuck. I'm not going to be worth shit today." He took another long pull, set the half full glass back on the table and stood. "Thanks for the drinks, but I'm going to see if I can catch an hour or two before I have to get to work."

"No problem. Thanks for the talk. It's been more than anyone’s said to me in one go since I got here. Well, other than to give me orders or tell me where to find what I need here." Savage motioned to the bar behind him.

"Yeah, speaking of that. Call it a night and get at least a little sleep yourself. Someone will deal with this in the morning." Mac motioned to the lower floor with a circle of one finger in the air as he turned and headed for the stairs.

"I think I will." Savage stood.

Mac didn't hang around to see what he would do. Instead he pulled out his phone as he climbed the stairs and typed up a message to Elyse.

Sorry about having to leave. I'll try to catch you tonight; in the meantime, I'm going to get a little sleep before I have to open the shop in a few hours.

He pocketed his phone, dug his keys from his pocket and let himself into his room. After stripping out of his clothes he fell face down across the bed and was asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.