Page 48 of Savior
“You’re damn fucking right he would.” Daniel says, an aggressive, yet worrisome tone to his words. “He’d have a problem with this entire fucking situation. You need to get out of here, Vanna. Go. Now. Please.”
“No.” I lean around him to call to the other biker watching us curiously from the door. “I want to speak with Legion.”
“Legion ain’t here.” He calls back.
Daniel jerks my arm, trying to turn me back towards my car. “See? Now go, before Dean kills us both.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers!” I dig my heels in stubbornly.
“Wait!” the other biker calls to me again. I notice he tucks his cellphone into his cut. He must have called Legion himself. “He’ll see you.”
“Fuck…” Daniel mutters.
“While I wait for Legion, why don’t we talk about your wife?” I scowl at him. “Where is Lucinda? Did you know she tried to have me killed so she could go after your brother again?”
He seems to suddenly have a hard time meeting my gaze, his eyes wandering the darkening parking lot, avoiding me. “You should really go… It isn’t safe for you here.”
“It isn’t safe for me anywhere, is it? Between whatever this stupid MC beef is between your two clubs, and your crazy ass wife.” I snap at him. Taking a moment to compose myself, I attempt to speak to my future brother-in-law with a bit more grace. “I actually do find it hard to believe you knew anything about it… You are Dean’s brother, after all. I can’t see you wanting him dead, simply because Lucinda can’t decide which one of you she wants, now.” He doesn’t say a word. “Where is she?”
“You need to leave while you can.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I have some answers.”
He finally lowers his eyes to look at me. They look so similar to Dean’s… A dark, soulful shade of brown. A slight pang of guilt rips through me. Dean is going to be livid that I’ve come here… This dangerous place he’s warned me about, more than once.
“Legion doesn’t tell me anything, Vanna. Therefore, I have nothing to give you.” He lifts his arm to run his hand through his hair, the same way his brother does when he’s stressed or agitated. Must be a Keegan family trait. I notice the absence of a ring on his left finger.
“Did you two split up?”
He ignores my question. “My brother will never come around to forgiving me, if you don’t get out of here, Vanna… Please. I’ve got enough shit to worry about. Just go, now. For both of our sakes.” Daniel urges.
We both hear the front door open to the club house. It’s already too late.
“Let her by.” A Demon wearing a Sergeant at Arms patch on his cut calls from the entrance. “Legion will see her now.”
I glance up in time to see a regretful look on Daniel’s face, before his expression slips into a mask of indifference. He takes my arm again and escorts me the rest of the way to the door. The Sergeant at Arms shoves Daniel’s shoulder, preventing him from entering the club with me.
“Wait outside. I’ll take her from here.” he orders, grabbing my other arm and pulling me through the door, roughly. I nearly stumble into another tall, gruff looking biker standing behind him, tripping on the hem of my long skirt.
“Get a prospect out here to stand watch. I’m not leaving her alone.” Daniel pushes back.
“She ain’t gonna be alone. Besides, you have fucking orders. Stand guard, or suffer the consequences.” The Sergeant at Arms glowers at him.
“Vanna, I’ll make sure he knows you’re here! Don’t drink anything they give you!” Daniel warns me, before the door slams shut in his face.
The big biker tugs me further into the club. It’s dark, smokey, and reeks of pot and stale beer. The place looks run down, and some kind of heavy metal death rock type music is thumping through the sound system, already a nauseating combination of smells and over stimulation.
The red track lighting along the floors and ceilings seems to be the only light source in this place. It’s creepy. I glance nervously at what I am able to see, as I’m manhandled across the room towards a corridor beyond the bar. There are a few pool tables on the other side. Booths that are remnants from the old Diner this place used to be, are still along the perimeter of the walls. Men in leather CDMC cuts are lounging around, shooting pool or smoking with beers and a couple of scantily clad, strung-out looking women in their laps.
There’s an almost naked, heavily tattooed woman slinking around a stripper pole in the center of the room. She doesn’t look like she’s all there, and the track marks in her arms look fresh. She’s barely dancing to the music they have playing. Now, Rob Zombie’s Living Dead Girl. That’s exactly what she looks like, as she seems to watch me being pulled through the club. Slowly swaying her emaciated body, clinging to that pole as if it’s the only reason she’s still standing in her platform heels. She’s looking at me, but I’m not sure if she even really sees me, through her greasy blonde, scraggly bangs draped in front of her dark circled eyes.
Before I pull my focus from her, I notice a black scorpion tattoo low on her hip, peeking out from her g-string panties. It looks a lot like the scorpion on Dean’s chest…
No. More than a lot… It’s the exact same tattoo, only smaller.
The Sergeant at Arms leads me through what once was the kitchen, to an office door in the back of the building. He knocks three times before it opens to a cloud of smoke, and Legion is standing before me.
I try to yank my arm from the big biker’s grasp at my elbow, but it’s no use. I glance back at Legion, who is now leaning against the door jamb, a cigarette between his two fingers, arms casually crossed as his unique grey eyes glance over me. He doesn’t speak, only stares, so I break the silence between us.
