Demon (The Northern Kings MC #1)

Chapter Twenty Five

Ciara

I’d taken a full week off from work, or at least the coffee shop job. The money I made from Trouble was 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?”

“We’re going on a ride today.”

I groaned inwardly. I’d heard those words spoken between the bikers.

“So, why am I going?”

“It’s a full club thing. We ride up to the racecourse, check on the preparation for the rally, and then we do a ride. We’ve done it for years.”

I nodded, still not getting my answer. “And you want me to come because….”

“Because all the ol’ ladies are going.” I opened my mouth, the complaint just on the tip of my tongue. “And girlfriends,” he added.

“So, you’re now assuming I’m your girlfriend?”

Demon’s eyebrows pulled together, confusion crossing his face, and then disappointment. And hurt. And now I felt like the bitch.

“Demon, look. I’ve not done this before.” I flipped my hand in the air above me. “You know. A relationship. Of any sort. I don’t know how ready for it I am. That’s not to say I don’t like you. I just don’t want you to get attached to something I don’t know whether I can give you.”

Demon nodded. His eyes were that of a loyal puppy I’d just kicked.

“Look. Just give me time. OK? I don’t mean space. Just time.”

“I won’t be going anywhere, darlin’. I’ll be right here, when you’ve decided what you want.”

I walked across to him, cupping his face with my hand, drawing his eyes to mine. And for a few seconds, we stood there looking at each other. Then he brushed his mouth over my lips. A gentle kiss, not full of lust and need like he normally kissed me. And it said he’d wait for me. Wait for me to decide whether I could accept him as anything more than the physical relationship we had developed.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he moved his lips from mine. “For now, I can be your fuck buddy.”

Demon smiled. But it was thin, and faint, his eyes full of sadness, in contrast to the exaggerated attempt his lips made.

*****

The leather jacket and trousers were stiff, and I was sure I was walking like a rusty robot. I clung onto Demon as the bike roared from under us, the vibrations from the heavy engine making it feel like my limbs would resonate off entirely. The carpark of the Dog on the Tyne was swamped with bikes, parked in neat rows of polished aluminium, as leather clad men and women stood around chatting and smoking.

“Are these all members of the Northern Kings?” I shouted over the loud rumble of Demon’s bike.

“Yep. And their ol’ladies.”

“I didn’t realise there were so many?”

“You’ll have seen the committee members. This is everyone. The regulars don’t attend Church every week. Only once a quarter or when there’s a big decision to be made.”

“Church?”

“It’s what we call the club meetings.”

“Got a feeling you lot don’t say your Hail Mary’s.”

Demon chuckled, pulling off his helmet and turning round in his seat to look at me. His dark hair was mussed up from the black helmet, thick, unruly strands going everywhere. The corner of his mouth pulled into a little grin, and right there and then he’d never looked anymore gorgeous. Fuck. He was wearing me down with his need for a relationship. I needed him to be an arsehole. To remind me he really was a criminal on a bike, not boyfriend material, like he was trying to convince me of.

A bike pulled up beside us, the engine cutting off and the tall, leather engulfed rider kicking out the stand and letting it settle to the right-hand side. The passenger behind him pulled their helmet off, smoothing the waves of blonde hair behind her ears.

“Hey, Ciara. Really great to see you.” Suzy flashed me that wide grin, her single dimple forming on her left cheek.

Magnet climbed off the bike, stretching out his hand like a gentleman and helping his petite wife off the back of the overly polished and purring beast. It was a big thing, with two exhausts on either side and an intricately painted tank of red roses and silver barbed wire intertwined on a black background. Beautiful. The leather double seat underneath was a complex design, a pattern stitched into the leather. I stared, my eyes following the lines in the seat, the picture forming in front of me, of ghosts and ghouls and spectres, all merged into an incredibly elaborate leather art piece.

“Think your lass is checking out my ass,” Magnet chuckled, his voice suddenly loud as the engine of the Harley next to us cut out.

“I… err…no I was just looking at the seat. Of your bike.”

My face flushed with heat, and I glanced at Demon, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“He’s winding you up, darl’.”

“Ignore Magnet,” Suzy said from the other side of the bike. “I’m glad you like it. I sewed that pattern into the leather. Just for him to sit his arse down on it.”

“You did that?”

Suzy nodded. “I’m kinda handy with a needle and thread. Pleased you’re coming with us today, Ciara. Be nice to see Demon smile for a change.”

Demon frowned beside me, hanging his helmet on the handlebars, and wandering off, Magnet half a step behind him. A little way in the distance, men I recognised gathered, chatting and laughing. All apart from Indie and Demon. Both of them looked tense. Distracted.

“What’s going on with those two?” I asked the petite blonde watching from beside me.

“This is the first time Indie’s ever led the ride.”

“Led the ride?”

“Yeah. The club ride in formation. The president always at the front. This is the first time since Ste’s been Pres that he’s ever missed it.”

“How long has he been president for?” I asked.

“Thirty-odd years. Maybe more. Demon wasn’t even born when he took the reins from the oldest brother.”

“I didn’t know Demon’s dad had a brother.”

“He had two. Ade and Si. They’re both dead now.”

“How?” I lowered my voice, knowing I was asking something personal. Personal to Demon and personal to the club.

“Ade was killed by the Notorious MC. Years ago,” she added, when I was sure I could feel the colour draining from my face. “It was back in the 1990s. When the biker wars were rife. Ade was the president before Ste. The wars have all ended now. So long as no one cocks up and does something stupid, the clubs generally respect each other’s patches.”

I swallowed, that ball of anxiety forming in my stomach once again. I knew what these MCs were. I’d heard the rumours. But maybe I’d just romanticised what they all got up to.

“And the other brother? He die the same way?”

“No,” Suzy’s voice lowered, and she glanced nervously in the direction of the leather clad men standing not too far away. “I don’t know exactly what happened. But rumour has it one of the club members killed him.”

My heart beat harder.

“Which one? Is he here?”

Suzy shook her head. “No, he was exiled. A long time ago. No one’s ever seen him since. I don’t know why they didn’t kill him. It’s club rules; an eye for an eye.”

I glanced again at the men standing around chatting, watching Indie still looking uncomfortable and Demon looking like he would have preferred to be anywhere else. Is that why they stayed in this life? Because there was no other choice. Just like the mafia, death the only way out.

And those thoughts bounded round my head as the men moved back to their bikes and replaced helmets. I pulled mine back on too, hiding the war of emotions behind the clear visor. The mass of bikes started up. An orchestra of roars and deep guttural purrs vibrating into the gentle summer’s day. A flock of birds took flight, disturbed from a nearby tree, the sudden growls from below dangerous, and as I watched their dark bodies get smaller in the sky, I wondered whether I should do the same.

Demon climbed over the bike, kicking back the side stand and straightening it before twisting around and patting the back of the seat. And I hesitated, watching the rest of the riders and passengers mounting up. Maybe this was a bad idea? Maybe I was setting Demon’s expectations too high, letting him think this, us, could go somewhere.

“Come on, Ciara,” Demon growled from behind the helmet as the first bikes peeled out of the carpark, pulling onto the road, and waiting to take up this ride formation Suzy had talked about.

I glanced around again and back up to the trees, to where the birds had followed their instincts. Seemed I wasn’t as sensible as them. And then I swung my leg over the seat, settling into place behind him and wrapping my stiff leather arms around his waist.

Indie passed in front of us, his bike rattling with that low thrum of power and the three crowned skulls staring at me as they went. Another rider followed him, and the rest of the ride waited patiently, until Fury and the big old guy I’d seen a few times with the white hair pulled in behind the two riders leading the ride. Then, the lazy tones of vibrating bikes changed, an angry roar filling the air as twenty or more engines revved and growled, pulling in behind the first riders to take up position and looking more like they were riding into war rather than heading out for a leisurely bike ride.

Demon joined nearer the end, letting a mass of grinning skulls go before him. The only ones left to join were the two men with the plain leather cuts and a handful of randomly dressed bikers after them.

And now, under the steady rumble of the big engine and the cacophony of the bikes around us, we took to the road. There was no getting off now. Literally. But something else told me that there was more. That this feeling of dread, trepidation and excitement meant something. And despite my worries, and despite the annoying little voice in the back of my head, I had this feeling of finally belonging to something, someone. And I guess I could get used to it.