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- Herausgeber: Tektime
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
He gave his loyalty to his club, she wanted his heart. Could they work out a deal?
Gizmo Martinez had long since dedicated his life to the Demented Souls and what the club meant. This was no life for a wife or family, and he knew it. But when her sweet charm pulls at something deep inside, can he walk away?
Jill wants something more than her work and video games. What she needs is something or someone to add some excitement. Maybe the tattooed man who ran into her, literally, in the grocery store is just the one to show her another side of life?
When club business comes between them, can Gizmo and Jill find away over the problem or will the cost be too steep?
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Gizmo
Melissa Stevens
Copyright © [Year of First Publication] by [Author or Pen Name]
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This Demented Souls book, like all of the Souls books, is dedicated to my dad, Wilmer ‘Billy’ Stephens.
When I started the series, I used him as a major resource, as he’d been a police officer, machinist, gun smith, Harley rider, mechanic and so much more.
Now that he’s gone, I write them in his memory.
Contents
1
“Hey Giz, you sure we’re the only ones here?” Crash’s voice was filled with uncertainty.
“I set the cameras to motion sensor and an alert should they be triggered. If there had been anything here, even a coyote, since our last visit, the system would send me an alert.” Gizmo shifted the big box truck into park in front of the rural house his club used as a safe house. “I’ve set it up on battery backups too, so it works even if the power cuts out. It also alerts me if that happens. I need to know if I need to replace the batteries or if there’s an issue like the power going out when it shouldn’t.
“If I’d gotten either of those alerts, we wouldn’t be here now. Not like this.” He took a deep breath and fought the urge to snap at his club brother. “I would make sure we had enough back up and we’d investigate without putting people in danger, or at least not innocent people.” If he had gotten an alert, that was more than something natural, like the bobcat he’d been alerted for a few weeks ago, he would have let their president, Tuck, know so they could put together a crew to go out and investigate, make sure nothing had been damaged. Those happened more often than the other alerts.
The engine ticked as it cooled, sounding like an old-style mechanical timer reminding Gizmo there were people waiting. Tick, tick, tick.
“Come on.” He opened the door and slid out, landing almost silently on the bare dirt of the driveway. The boots he wore weren’t the best choice for moving around silently but he’d worn worse. A lot worse. Besides, there was no one but them out here so the sound didn’t matter.
Gizmo stepped to the back of the truck and waited for Crash to join him, nodding that he was ready, before opening the padlock that had kept the back of the truck from being opened by any passerby on a whim. Not that anyone had much chance. He and Crash had only stopped once on the two-hour trip from Rio Rico to the outskirts of Marana where they were now.
The trip had taken nearly twice as long as it would have if he’d used the interstate, but he’d stuck to back roads and surface streets to avoid attracting the wrong kind of attention. The box truck had the logo of a local furniture store on the side, so it wouldn’t seem out of place, but he liked to play it safe either way. No, the store didn’t know they were using their logo, and in another week, they wouldn’t be. The logo would be peeled off and another put in its place.
Gizmo unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing the thirty people sitting or lying in the cargo space. It was tight quarters, but for the people who had spent the last couple days, if not longer crossing the desert on foot, a couple hours of discomfort sitting in the back of a truck with water and food was nothing.
“Ustedes vamos.” He curved the fingers on one hand inviting them out of the back of the truck. They all watched him warily as one at a time they stood and came toward the open door. He helped the first one down and turned back for the next. The first woman stepped a few feet away and looked around but stayed silent.
By the time he helped the fourth passenger from the truck, Crash was standing at the other side of the truck helping too, as a line had formed. A couple men moved to the edge of the truck and climbed down on their own, one turning back to lift several children down.
It didn’t take but a few minutes until the only things left in the back of the truck were empty water bottles and granola bar wrappers. Gizmo grabbed the strap and pulled down the rolling door to close the cargo space, putting the lock in place. If it always looked the same, there would be less interest in the truck.
“En la casa.” He tilted his head toward the house and headed in that direction. The crunch of footsteps let him know they were following without having to look back. Once they were all inside, he waited until Crash closed the door, signaling that they’d all made it in. “¿Nadie habla ingles?”
Several hands rose slowly.
“Oh, good. My Spanish is rusty at best. Who speaks the best English?”
“I do, sir.” A teenage girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen stepped forward, her English was almost perfect, with only a slight accent.
“What’s your name sweetheart?”
“I’m Nadia.”
“All right, Nadia. Let me run through the rules, I’ll go slow so you can translate then we’ll let you settle in and get some rest. I know you’re all exhausted and need some sleep.”
Gizmo waited while the girl translated, watching faces as she spoke.
“First,” he said once she’d finished and turned back to him, “for now, I need you all to stay in the house. We will have men around, they’ll be in and out of the house. They’re here to make sure you’re safe and to make sure you’ve got everything you need.” Gizmo waited while Nadia translated then continued. “Second, there’s a full house of food. If you need anything, let one of the men know, we’ll pick it up next shopping trip. If it’s urgent, let us know and we’ll get it as soon as possible. Like diapers or formula.” He tilted his head to the woman on one side of the room nursing a baby that looked about six months old. “There are some basics here, but we’ll get more.” He waited while Nadia translated again. “We’ll keep you here a few days to make sure you’re all safe and healthy, then we’ll break you up in to smaller groups to move you on, get you a little farther into the country so you’ll be safe.”
What he didn’t tell them was the camera he’d aimed at the front door had caught each one’s face as they’d stepped in the door. He would be running them all through facial recognition software. He didn’t expect to get results for most of them, but once in a while one of the faces he ran would pop on some watch list. Those were part of the reason he did this.
Gizmo walked through the house, showing Nadia and anyone who had followed them where the bedrooms, kitchen, and bathrooms were, as well as where the bedding and towels were kept. There was time to show them where to do laundry later. Now they all looked like they’d been walking for days. First priorities were food and rest.
They divided themselves into the bedrooms, each furnished with several sets of bunk beds to get as many people in each room as they comfortably could. This place wasn’t set up for long term living, but it didn’t have to be another part of the nightmare they’d been living either.
He watched as those travelling with children got them settled first, then laid down themselves, often beside the kids. Less than an hour after pulling into the driveway, they were all in bed, and mostly sleeping. There were a few who seemed too worried they weren’t as safe as they’d been told. There always were. Give them a day or two and it would be better.
Once they were all settled, Gizmo nodded to Crash who had brought a wood chair from the dining room into the living room and put it one corner. There the other man sat keeping an eye out for trouble, while Gizmo slipped out the front door, closing it softly behind him so he wouldn’t disturb anyone. He waited until he was past the truck before pulling out his phone and dialing.
“We’re here and settled,” he told Tuck, the club president.
“Good. Any trouble?”
“None.” Gizmo scanned the desert surrounding the house for activity, but the only movement was a road runner perched on top of a barrel cactus watching for prey, it’s tail bobbing up and down as it balanced in the slight breeze. He understood the feeling. “We’re good till someone shows but I want to run these faces soon.”
“Recognize someone?”
“There’s something about one of them but I’m not sure if it’s a resemblance to someone else or if he’s a face I’ve seen before.”
Tuck made a noise Gizmo interpreted as him thinking. “I’ll send out someone to replace you, then you can work your magic. Shouldn’t be more than an hour till you’re relieved.”
“Sounds good.”
“Anything else that needs my attention?”
“Not really. We’ve got a couple of really small kids, at least one under a year, possibly two. But I really think the other is closer to two than one.”
“So, we need to send Kinard out there to check them over. How do they look?”
“They’re all a little thin, but the babies don’t look any worse off than the rest. Nearly all the mothers are scrawnier than I’d like. As if they’ve been giving up food so the kids could eat.”
“Not uncommon. We’ll get a few good meals in them before we move them on.”
“That’s about how I saw it.” Gizmo leaned one shoulder against the truck and stared out across the desert, noting the dust trail floating up, letting him know some vehicle was speeding along a dirt road not too far from them. He wasn’t worried, that road didn’t lead here.
“When you get in, start your scans then come see me.”
“Trouble?”
“Not yet.” A soft click told him the call had been disconnected.
Gizmo shook his head and pocketed his phone. Tuck had a thing about not saying goodbye or anything else before hanging up. It was starting to spread as the last call Gizmo had had with Ruger had ended the same way.
What was it they said about people who spent too much time together? Something about their personalities start to blur together but he couldn’t remember the whole thing. He shook his head and tried to figure out why the one face seemed so familiar.
“Did you figure out who he was?” Tuck asked as Gizmo pulled out a chair across from where the president already sat.
“Not yet, but I started the search.” Gizmo shook his head. “I don’t know what it is yet, but he’s triggering something in the back of my mind. I’ll figure it out, one way or another.”
“I’ve got faith in you, but that’s not why I wanted to see you.” A flash of light drew Gizmo’s attention to Tuck’s hand. The coin the president only pulled out when he was mulling some problem flipped back and forth over the older man’s knuckles without his having to look at it or watch what he was doing. “I need you to eval and update the security systems on all the club businesses.”
Gizmo blinked. Possibilities flashed through his mind. “Any thing specific or a general update?”
“Nothing specific, but I want to make sure there’s video everywhere, with as much detail as we can get, and sound if possible.”
Gizmo nodded, trying to remember what kind of systems he’d set up where and what would need to be updated and replaced.
“Who’s paying? The club or the business?”
“The business if they can afford it, but we can pull from the club if needed. When we get all the businesses done I want to look at homes. I’ve not yet decided how we’ll finance those but decide what we need to do it all and see if we can get some kind of bulk discount. That will help everyone involved.”
“All right.” Gizmo fell silent, thinking. After a few minutes he looked back up at the club leader. “Want me to use official channels or not?”
Tuck shook his head. “It might be cheaper if we did, but no. I don’t want any chance anything, even the smallest component, can be traced to anywhere but here or each business. We rely on each other and ourselves for a reason.”
“Gotcha. Mind if I lock myself in the other room and work on this, and the other, for a while?”
Tuck agreed. They relied on themselves to avoid any clusterfucks from dealing with unreliable persons.
“Go for it. If I need you, I’ll either call or knock. I don’t have any reason to think we’ve got a breach, but I want you to keep this secure. Tell only those who need to know as we do this.”
“You got it, jefe.” Gizmo stood, pushing his chair back where he’d gotten it. He ignored Tuck’s eye roll as he went to the bar and waved to Jailbait, who made her way to where Gizmo stood and passed him a cold bottle of beer. Cold one in hand, he headed for the back room. Some clubs called it Church, the Demented Souls just called it theirs, either way, it was their private place, their sanctuary. He closed and locked the door before going to the hidden room he thought of as his inner sanctum and triggered the lock release.
All the brothers had access, they knew how to get in and how to use most of the equipment in the small bedroom sized room, but Gizmo was the only one who really loved the space, the only one who would rather be here than almost anywhere. Well, except on a bike.
He pushed the thought of a good ride from his head as he pulled up the schematics he’d used for each business when he’d installed each security system and printed them out. This wasn’t going to be the fastest project he’d done, but it was right up his alley.
A glance at the monitor in the corner told him the pictures from the safe house were still running and he hadn’t gotten any matches yet, so he turned back to this project, giving the other program time to do its thing.
2
Jill pushed her cart through the grocery store picking up whatever looked good or caught her interest. Not that she bought everything she picked up, but she took her time and enjoyed her grocery shopping. Sure, she could have had her groceries delivered. It would certainly be easier, but since she’d started working from home, she’d found getting out of the house for her weekly grocery trip was something she looked forward to.
She enjoyed the chance to talk to people, under her own rules. Once a week to shop, and the occasional venture for something else, maybe a movie on the weekends, was all she needed, at least in person.
Jill preferred most of her socializing be done online, mainly through her favorite game, The Sorceress’s Apprentice 3, No One Said Anything About Dragons, more commonly referred to as SA3.
There, she didn’t have to try to make small talk or pretend she cared, they could talk about the game and sometimes, conversation drifted from there. She didn’t mind that. She knew she had something in common with the other players… SA3.
Jill shook her head and pulled her mind from the game as she turned and worked her way down the frozen foods aisle at the Albertson’s, where she preferred to do most of her shopping. Walking along the frozen vegetable section she scanned the shelves for anything that caught her eye or looked tasty while only keeping a peripheral eye on where she was going. She was the only one in the aisle, so she didn’t have to worry about running into anyone.
A new frozen pizza caught her eye, so she pulled one from the case and was standing, reading the back of the box when something smashed into her, knocking her into her cart. The pizza in her hand flew away as she fell to her ass.
She looked up, ready to snap at whoever had been careless enough to barrel into her. What if she’d been an elderly person? Their bones were a lot more brittle than hers and they could have been seriously hurt.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am.” A man who looked about her age stared at her with wide eyes. “Here, can I help you up?” He held out one hand but didn’t touch her without permission, well touch her more than the slamming into her he’d already done.
“I’m all right.” Jill pushed herself to her knees, then stood.
“Are you sure? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, I’m all right.” She made her way to her feet and looked around, wondering what had happened to the pizza. It lay a little haphazard but had landed in her cart. With a shrug, she left it there. It probably would have ended up there anyway, why fuss over the how?
“Are you sure?” He seemed flustered. “Let me get you a coffee or something to apologize.”
“You don’t need to do that. You are obviously in a hurry.” Jill rolled her shoulders and flexed a little to see how bruised and sore she was. While she tested her muscles, she got her first good look at him. She blinked and looked again then had to resist the urge to wipe one hand across her chin to make sure she wasn’t drooling. Damn he was hot.
He wasn’t tall, maybe 5‘9“, with dark hair that looked several weeks overdue for a cut and eyes the shade of warm dark chocolate. She couldn’t make her brain form words for a moment, only stand blinking at him like an idiot.
“I’m not really in a hurry, just had my mind on something else and didn’t see you. I’d like do something to apologize, please?”
She stopped and watched him for a moment. He seemed genuine.
“All right. Here or you want to go somewhere else?”
“Here is good, that way neither of us needs to rush our shopping we can have our drink, maybe talk a little,” he shot her what she took as a hopeful look, “then go on with what we were doing.”
“I think I’d like that.” She pushed her cart to the front of the store to the corner where there was an in-store Starbucks kiosk and parked it next to an empty table in the nearly empty seating area before following him to the register.
“Get whatever you like.” He motioned her to the register as he pulled out his phone. Jill ordered her drink, then went to the table while he ordered his and covered the bill. After a moment he joined her.
“Here you are.” He slid into the seat across from her. “My name’s Gizmo. I’m sorry again for not watching where I was going. You sure you’re not hurt?”
“A few bruises, maybe, nothing serious.” Jill frowned. “Gizmo? What kind of name is that?” Her face heated and she wished, not for the first time, she had more of a filter between her brain and her mouth. Too often whatever she was thinking slipped out before she thought enough to stop it. Thankfully the man across from her chuckled.
“It’s a nickname, but one I’ve gotten used to and just about the only name anyone uses anymore. I grew up Chuy.”
Jill tilted her head to one side. “Isn’t that a nickname too?” She’d been in Tucson long enough to get used to the odd sounding Hispanic names she’s never heard in Minnesota, but she’d only recently learned that Chuy wasn’t really a given name.
“You got me there. My dad was Jesus, and my family wasn’t yet integrated enough to go with Jesse, so I ended up Chuy. I don’t mind it, but it’s not really been me for years.” One corner of his mouth tipped up in a half-smile that made something low in her belly go soft and warm.
“So how did you go from Chuy to Gizmo?” She shook her head at the silly sounding name.
He shrugged. “Luck?”
She laughed, wondering if maybe it was a private story she shouldn’t have asked. Oh, well it would have been interesting to hear, but if he didn’t want to share, she wouldn’t push.
“I’m Jill.” She extended one hand across the table, careful not to hit either of their cups.
“Nice to meet you, Jill. Tell me, do you make it a habit of getting knocked over for free coffee?”
The glint in his eyes and the crinkles to either side let her know he was teasing.
“Only when there’s a hot, bad-ass looking guy barreling my way without looking where he’s going.” Jill held her breath, hoping if he could dish it out, he could take it too. Not everyone could, and it was a total deal breaker for her. She could handle not teasing, but if a guy couldn’t take as good as he gave, then he wasn’t worth her time. She was more than a little picky and she knew it. That was only one of several reasons she’d not been on more than a second date in at least a year.
He lifted one brow and met her gaze. “That happen often?”
“Just once, so far. But I have hopes for the future. It is an interesting way to meet people.”
“I can think of safer ways to meet people, how about at work?”
“I work from home.” Jill gave her head a slight shake. “I meet people there, but only virtually and I’d prefer to get together with the people from my game over the ones I work with.”
“Game?” That eyebrow lifted again. “I’m a bit of a gamer myself. I like tech, Gizmo, get it?”
Gizmo for a tech geek, Jill couldn’t help but shake her head as she let out a soft chuckle.
“I play SA3, Sorceress’s Apprentice 3, No One Said Anything About Dragons.“ She avoided going into detail, she didn’t want him to think she was a total nerd. She was, but she didn’t want him to think so, not yet. Something made her want him to find her attractive, she didn’t mind if he thought she was cute, but she didn’t want to walk away, not yet.
“Really? I play SA3 once in a while. Have you heard Sorceress’s Apprentice 4, Eldridge Shenanigans is supposed to be out soon? They keep pushing back the release date, but I hear it will be in the next couple months.”
“I’ve heard, but I’m getting frustrated with the delays.” She sighed. “I mean, I get it. It’s complex and I hear there’s a lot of new storyline for the next one but come on, it’s been delayed three times now.”
He nodded. “I hear there are a lot of little things to work out. Have you seen the cover art?”
“You mean BA’AL with the Cthulhu? It’s great art, but then all of them are. Great art doesn’t make up for letdown after letdown. SA4 had better be one amazing game to bring back the players who’ve gotten frustrated and given up.”
He gave a slow nod without adding anything more.
“How often you play?” he asked after a moment.
“A few times a week.” The last thing she was going to do was admit she played for several hours every evening. She had a second computer, a high-end laptop she’d had built to her own specs for gaming that she kept in her tiny living room so she could be comfortable while she listened to the TV and played after work. Admitting that would be like telling him flat out she had no life but work and gaming. While that might be true, she wasn’t ready to admit it to a total stranger.
He tipped his cup back. She watched the way his throat moved as he swallowed and wondered why she found him so enticing. She found it difficult to take her eyes off him.
Damn. It had been too long since she’d gotten laid.
3
Fuck.
Gizmo watched the woman across from him and wished for the first time in years, he hadn’t sworn off serious relationships. The life he’d chosen with the Demented Souls wasn’t suitable to a family. He’d known it when he joined the Souls and despite several of his brothers recently finding women they’d fallen for and who could accept the life, he still didn’t think it was right. He didn’t want to bring someone else into the darkness he lived with.
This lifestyle had been his choice. He’d decided his not having a wife, a family or even a steady woman, was a sacrifice he was willing to make to make for this country, a country he loved, safer for those who already had those things. For the families and kids.
Until this moment, he’d never given the decision a second though. Jill though? Jill could make him regret the decision.
He’d almost finished the coffee he’d gotten so he’d have a few minutes to talk to her, but he didn’t want to go. She was cute, yeah but that wasn’t it. Lots of women were cute. The way she spoke her mind, the way she didn’t hesitate to say what she thought, was more than a little hot. And she played SA3. He had a few gamer friends who played but none of his brothers were interested in any of the computer games, Krissi played a little but between school, working at Drifters, helping with club business, and time with Ruger she didn’t have much spare time. The rest of his game buddies were just gamers. People he’d never met. He had no one he could talk to about the game, or much of what he did, either for the club or for his security company he ran as a cover business. Sure, he could talk security with his brothers, or with his employees, but no one had the gadget fixation he did. Finding a woman who might possibly understand that gadget fixation was more than a little fucking hot.
Damn.
He wanted to get to know her better, but he still had no doubt he’d made the right decision when he’d opted not to bring someone into the rough, dark life of an undercover motorcycle club.
“I’m sorry again and I hope you don’t think too badly of me.” He wasn’t sure why he cared what she thought. It was like he was trying to get her to like him. Hell, he’d probably never see her again.
“No worries.” She smiled up at him. “I’m not hurt. Thanks for the drink though.” She lifted the paper cup in her hand.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’d better get going but I’m glad you’re all right.” He paused a moment, waiting to see if she would say anything. “Have a great evening.” Gizmo headed to finish his shopping. He had to force himself not to look back and check on her again.
She was a nice girl, the kind who deserved flowers and sweet words, a relationship that was more than a man who kept secrets and broke the law. That wasn’t something Gizmo could give her. She would be better off if he just walked away and forgot about her. Better off if he went back to the clubhouse and took Linda or Double D back to his room and never thought about her again.
He hurried to get his groceries and through check out so he could get out of there. The temptation to find her again, to ask for her number, was strong. She made him want to forget his oath, so he did his best to get away from temptation. Gizmo didn’t know how long he could hold out if he stayed close. Giving in would be so easy.
At least at first.
4
Jill took a deep breath and got comfortable in her recliner before sliding the table with her laptop over her lap. The groceries were put away, dinner finished, and she was ready to settle in with SA3 and relax for the evening.
She signed in and while she waited for the game to connect, picked up the remote and turned on the TV and while she scanned what was on, her mind drifted back to the encounter at the grocery store.
Gizmo was an odd name, it stuck with her. She’d not found anyone else, at least not in real life, that played SA3. Some of her online friends did, that’s how she’d gotten into it. There had been talk about a local get together of players, but she’d found an excuse not to go. Maybe she should see if they were still doing that. Would he be there? She wondered if she’d ever encountered him in the game.
Settling the TV on a dinosaur documentary, she turned back to the computer where the game was waiting on her and dismissed the idea of having played with him. Chances were low, almost non-existent.
It didn’t take long for her to get absorbed into the game. Jill didn’t give him another thought until she encountered a player with the handle GizManRidesAgain. She hadn’t paid it much attention at the time, but the handle made her remember the leather vest with several patches Gizmo had worn. She’d seen enough men in similar vests to know it was the sign of someone in a motorcycle club.
Most of the men she’d seen, and sometimes women, wearing the vests were older, the men with beards and shaggy, over-grown hair. The other end of the spectrum was the clean-cut young men and women, people who looked like escapees from the law office downtown.
Gizmo didn’t fit either of those descriptions. He wore a short beard covering his face, but it didn’t look shaggy or over grown, despite his looking closer to twenty-five than the fifty or sixty plus of the group he more closely resembled.
Jill wondered if this player might be Gizmo, but how to ask without being weird? And what if it wasn’t him? Her own handle — MarionMagikMistress gave no clue what her real name was. Few people would know who she was.
With a shake of her head, she pushed him out of her mind again and focused on the game. Why worry about a man she’d probably never see again anyway?
5
Gizmo set his computer on the coffee table and pushed himself to his feet. He’d spent the last two hours working up a list of equipment he would need for the security updates Tuck wanted. He wasn’t done yet, but it was as close as he would get without personally checking each site for changes.
He figured he might as well hold off and put it all in as one order, hoping the quantity might give him a better price. It wouldn’t mean more profit. Club work he did at cost because but not all the club-associated businesses could afford his rates, and they didn’t get the option to use anyone else. His doing the work at cost was an option they could all live with. It meant they could be sure all the businesses remained secure, at least as secure as they could be, meaning Tuck and the club could live with it too.
He’d done as much as he could tonight, at least on that. He carried his plate into the kitchen, rinsed and loaded it in the dishwasher. Thinking again maybe he should hire someone to come in and do his dishes and laundry. He could certainly afford it. No, he shook his head and dismissed the idea yet again. Gizmo couldn’t handle giving a stranger access to his home. He kept too many secrets, his and for other people. Secrets that could cost lives.
If his own desire not to be bothered washing his own dishes or laundry cost the life of one of his brothers, Gizmo wouldn’t be able to face himself in the mirror. So, he would continue to do his own housework. Now, he added soap and started the nearly full dishwasher before grabbing a cold beer from the fridge and going back to his computer.
Work was done for the night, but he was going to have a drink and try to relax a little. He wanted to forget his worries for at least a few minutes, if he could. He fired up SA3 and waited for the game to load. Popping the top, he took a long swig of the beer before setting the can aside and focusing on the computer. He wished he’d gotten Jill’s username, then shook his head, wondering where the thought had come from.
No, it was better that he hadn’t asked.
He’d been playing less than half an hour when his phone rang. Hitting pause, he picked up the phone.
“Talk to me.” He hadn’t bothered to check the screen, but it didn’t matter. He answered all his calls the same way. Or mostly he did, once in a while he just answered with ‘yo’.
“We’ve got a problem,” Ruger’s voice came over the line. “Meeting in an hour. Be there.” The line went dead before he had a chance to respond. Ruger was normally terse over the phone, but not that terse. Whatever it was must be serious.
Gizmo checked the time. If he got up now, he could get a shower before he went to the clubhouse. Whatever the problem was, it couldn’t be too bad, or the meeting would be in fifteen minutes but sometimes things went from sugar to shit fast. Who knew how long it would be before he had a chance to shower again, so he logged out of SA3 and shut down the computer dropping it into the backpack he carried it in, before heading for the shower.
Gizmo walked into the Demented Souls club house and slapped the bar to get the new guy’s attention. The Souls had recently made Dumbass a patched member, relieving him of bartender duty. To replace him they’d hired Jailbait and given the job to the new prospect. That new prospect, a kid of maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, came to the end of the bar now. An old dog-eared paperback sticking out of his pocket. Gizmo had noticed the book but hadn’t yet got a good look at it. He thought it was an old Louis L’Amour book, which one he couldn’t hazard a guess at, not yet.
“What can I get for you?” the kid asked.
“I just need a couple bottles of water for now.”
“Right away.” The kid bent to the cooler and pulled out a pair of water bottles, then set them on the bar between them. “Anything else?”
“This is all, for now at least.” Gizmo scanned the room, noticing that while there were several men milling about, most of the officers were absent, only Ruger sat at the table where Tuck normally warmed a seat while surveying the room. “Tuck here?”
“No, sir. He left a couple hours ago and hasn’t been back.”
It looked like he’d gotten here before the majority of the others, he turned and saw the new guy still watching him.
“What’s with the book?” Gizmo asked.
“It’s my favorite,” the kid pulled the book from his back pocket and laid it on the bar between them, “I’ve probably read it a dozen times but every time I find something I’ve never caught before.”
Gizmo stared down at the worn, faded cover a moment. “Why don’t you just pick up something else?”
“I do. In a normal week I’ll read four or five, but this is still my favorite. I carry it because I can pull it out anywhere, start on any page and know what’s going on. It makes for good sit and watch material. I can keep an eye on a doorway or whatever and seem like I’m reading. Fewer people question what you’re doing if you’ve got a book out and if anyone does, then I can tell them what’s going on in the story. That alone is usually enough to drive anyone else away.”
“You do a lot of waiting and watching?” Gizmo lifted on brow as he waited for a smart mouthed answer. Newbies always had a smart mouth, at least until they learned when and where they could get away with it.
“I’ve done some security work.” The kid picked the book up off the bar and pocketed it.
Gizmo had to pause just a second and let the words sink in before he realized the kid had done guard duty, not the kind of security Gizmo did.
“You familiar with the electronic side of security or you just do guard duty?”
“I’ve done a little, not a whole lot. I worked my way through school with a security firm. They did a little of both and I did a couple of installs. I don’t mind the installs, but I’d rather pull guard duty, or even bodyguard duty over sitting in a control room watching a wall of screens.”
Gizmo nodded. It took the right kind of person to do control room duty. Too many would let their eyes glaze over and miss important details. He’d rotated a lot of people in and out of control rooms, when he had jobs that required them, looking for the right kind of personality to stay alert. Being able to spot a problem after six or eight hours as easily as they did after one was not easy. He made a mental note to talk to Tuck about taking the new kid from bartender duty and putting him to work elsewhere, especially while he had the extra work of updating all the businesses.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for these.” He picked up the water and went to join Ruger at the table. “What’s up?” Gizmo took a seat at the table and watched the club treasurer a moment.
Ruger stared back for a moment. “Not here. Everyone will be here soon enough.” He shook his head. “Too much to go into now, especially when I’ll just have to go over it again in a few minutes.”
Gizmo nodded, tilted his chair back on two legs, and twisted open one of the water bottles. As he sipped the water, he watched as their brothers trickled in one or two at a time. By the time the set time for the meeting arrived, most of the club was present. Some sat, some stood, many had a drink of some kind.
Tuck stepped in the front door, ducked behind the bar, came out with a can of soda then went straight into the back room where they held their meetings. Once the president went in the back room, Gizmo and Ruger followed. In twos or threes, they all followed until the only ones not in the backroom were the prospects, Jake and the new guy, whose name, Gizmo had been told but couldn’t remember.
Gizmo frowned. Had they found out something he hadn’t heard? Most of the club had access to the secret room, but if they’d been in and seen something, why not just say so? Why make him go look?
“Some reason to think someone will have come back?” Sadist frowned and looked at the president then scanned the faces in the room. Gizmo had noticed several missing but assumed they were on guard duty with the latest shipment.
“Mac recognized one of the men, but he can’t remember where from. He thinks it was from an alert list, but he can’t be sure. I want to know ASAP. I want everything we can get all the way back to how often his grandparents took a shit so we can figure out who the fuck this guy is and what the fuck we need to do about him, if anything.”
“You called a full meeting for a maybe?” Ghost asked from the other side of the table.
“Are you questioning me or my decisions?” Tuck lifted one brow at his sergeant-at-arms.
Ghost shrugged and scowled. “I was busy when I got called in.”
“How old was this one? Was she old enough to drink?” Sadist chuckled. They all knew she would at least be legal, but Ghost did like them young. He wasn’t yet thirty himself, so it wasn’t completely creepy, but the brother’s liked to tease him.
“Yes. Barely.” Ghost’s scowl deepened but let it drop.
Gizmo ignored the banter as he pulled open the closet and turned on screens. It only took a few seconds for the monitors to kick on.
Fuck me. He didn’t have one ping, he had several. Damn. He hadn’t even left it more than a few hours. He’d expected it to take all night. None of the faces that had come back were the ones that he remembered more than a passing glance at. None of them.
“I’ve got something here. Actually a couple things, give me a minute or two to sort it out and I’ll make a report,” Gizmo called through the doorway to Tuck and the rest of the brothers, then turned back to the computer, reading and filtering information as his mind spun faster than a top.
Voices blurred together in the next room, but he ignored them as he tried to put all the new information into some kind of order, so he could let the others know what kind of catastrofuck they’d landed in the middle of.
