The Devil’s Viking (The Road Devils MC #3)

Chapter Twelve

Iris dried the last saucepan and hung it up on its designated hook, gave the counters a final wipe, checked that the fridge was shut tight, and took off her apron. Her first full day in the kitchen was done, now on to the cleaning she hadn’t gotten to between meal rushes.

She caught her reflection in the gleaming metal counter, and was surprised at how happy and glowy she looked. It was funny to think how her life had utterly changed in some ways, but stayed exactly the same in others. After all, she was still cooking and serving and cleaning, still getting up stupid early and staying on her feet all day – but this felt completely different.

This time, it was her conscious, informed choice to do all of these things. This time she was getting paid. This time, she could eat the damn muffins and the pasta.

She went out to the bar area and saw that Cole was already pouring drinks for the hovering waitresses, while Holt and Cowboy sat chatting. When they spotted her, they jumped to their feet and invited her to sit down.

“Oh, I really can’t,” she said. “I’m sorry. I need to clean the back rooms before Zoe comes and gets me for shopping.”

“C’mon, babe,” Cowboy said, and she once again thought how weird (and yet nice) it was for these smoking hot men to call her pet names. They never thought about it: the sweetest endearments just rolled off their tongues, unbidden and unforced.

Gideon had always lectured to his disciples about silver-tongued angels, and Iris had never really known what those were…until now. They were a bunch of tattooed, intimidating, generous, badass, glowering, funny, rough bikers who one hundred percent had her back as she took the first few tentative steps into her new life.

Wolf had warned her that she didn’t want these guys and their skills gunning for her, and now that she knew some of them a little bit, she totally believed that. These were not stupid men, not men to be messed with or threatened; they moved like trained soldiers, some of them, and they talked like men with pasts. But they were also touchingly kind and supportive, they made an effort to get to know her, they seemed to feel that since Iris was living and working in their bar, she was their responsibility.

She felt accepted and wanted. It felt good.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said with real regret. “I don’t want to keep Zoe waiting and she’ll be here in an hour.”

“Rain check?” Cowboy said. “Next time, you have a drink with me, darlin’. A real drink.” He paused. “Wait – do you drink?”

“Not for a long time,” she said, remembering how hard it had been to kick the drugs and the alcohol; she’d thought it would kill her to go without those things, and now she never thought about them. Forcing her to quit cold turkey had been the only good thing that joining the Garden had ever done for her. “It doesn’t agree with me.”

“Gotcha.” Cowboy nodded, and dropped it immediately, no more questions asked. “So coffee tomorrow morning it is.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

They watched her walk down the hallway to the supply closet, pull out the vacuum, some garbage bags and a pair of latex gloves. She headed right into one of the crash rooms and got to work again.

“I’ll tell you what,” Holt said. “I’ve been watching her today, you know, as Wolf said for me to do, and this woman doesn’t stop. Like, ever . Her work ethic is off the goddamn charts. I asked her if she maybe wanted to lie down for a couple of hours this afternoon, just because she’d been up since five, and she looked at me like I was insane. Said that she worked eighteen-hour days in that fucking cult and even though she was tired sometimes, she was used to it.”

“Jesus,” Cowboy muttered. “She’s the very definition of a modern slave.”

“Right?” Holt said. “I mean, I’m all for working hard, but you gotta play hard, too, you know?”

Bang on cue, the door opened and a group of Satan’s regular bar babes came in. They were nice women, for the most part, and they all had a serious thing for MC members, so they were an easy and casual good time. They all knew the ins and outs of the crash rooms in the back, and they understood the rules of engagement, which basically were that the guys would only do what they were asked, only if they were asked to do it, but forget about a relationship.

“Here we go,” Cole said as the women came over to the bar, shedding coats as they walked; short skirts and deep cleavage and belly button rings emerged. “Party time, boys.”

**

Viking skirted past the women at the bar, all flirting wildly with Cole as he poured out a pitcher of Margaritas. These girls looked to be digging in for the night, and Viking was grateful that Iris’ room was way at the other end of the building, over Wolf’s office. She wouldn’t hear much going on down here if she wanted to get to bed early.

He walked through the room, looking for her everywhere, poking his head into the supply closet and then the crash rooms. In the fourth room, he found her vacuuming.

“Hey,” he said but she didn’t hear him over the running motor; he wasn’t keen to scare her, so he stood in the door patiently, waiting for her to turn around and notice him.

She bent over to pick up something from under the bed and Viking suddenly found himself looking at her ass, sweetly rounded in her baggy jeans. He knew that he should do the decent thing and look away, just drop his eyes and turn away, or better yet, leave…but she was curvy in ways that he hadn’t imagined, and yes, he had imagined. He felt like a creep and a perv about it, considering what this woman had surely been through, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

She stood up now and turned around; when she spotted him, she jumped a bit and then smiled. She turned off the vacuum and held up a pair of tiny hot-pink panties between the fingers of her gloved hand.

“Looking for these?” she asked him.

Viking laughed, shook his head. “Nah, baby. Not my color.”

“Hmmm.” She threw them in the garbage bag over in the corner. “That’s the sixth pair that I’ve found.”

“In this room?”

“No. This is the last room that I’m doing, so it’s six pairs in five rooms. This is the first pink pair, though. Black and red seem to be the preferred colors.” She cocked her head at him. “So… I’m guessing that these back rooms are for – entertainment purposes?”

“Yeah, you can say that. I mean, you saw that two of them are actually games rooms – you saw the pool tables, right? – but the others are literal crash rooms that people can rent to sleep over. Sometimes the boys stay overnight for some reason, like when their place is getting some work done or something like that. That’s why we have sofa beds and showers in the rooms. But yeah, if a room is free and the booze is flowing and the mood strikes, bar patrons can come down to an empty room and… well. You know.”

“Fling their clothing off in all directions,” she finished for him. “Got it.”

He laughed, then looked at her. She gazed back at him, and a silence fell between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it had a weird edge to it, like they both had things to say that weren’t being said.

Viking cleared his throat. “So. Wolf called me and asked that I come and talk to you.”

“Oh?” Right away, she looked alarmed. “Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Iris, you didn’t. He wanted me to ask you how you want to be paid.”

She looked confused. “Like – paid with food?”

Viking smiled. “No, baby. Like paid cash-in-hand, or do you have a bank account?”

She fell into another silence, but this one felt different: she was suddenly closed down and closed off, and Viking didn’t like the change. Just thirty seconds before, she’d been smiling and joking with him, alight with happiness and a newfound confidence. Now, though, she was fully in her own head: he could practically see her moving pieces back and forth and in circles, deciding what to tell him, what to hold back.

“Hey, look,” Viking said gently. “The problem with a bank account is that then we would know your real name. Right?”

She stared up at him, those amazing eyes guarded and troubled. She didn’t say anything, and she looked exactly like she had when he’d first seen her. This was all a massive step backwards, one that Viking really didn’t like, so he gave her a reassuring smile.

“Baby, we all know that your name isn’t really Iris, and that’s OK.”

“It is? I mean, it’s OK that I haven’t told you?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, do you think that my name is really Viking? Or that Wolf’s is Wolf? Scars? Rebel? Cowboy?”

She blinked, then gave him a half-smile. “I actually hadn’t thought about that.”

“We all understand about names that we take through our lives, or names that we’re given. Now, I figure that yours wasn’t much of a choice in that Gideon decided which type of flower you were going to be, but right now, it’s a kind of protection for you from a bunch of men you barely know. Am I right?”

“Y – yes.”

“So. Cash in an envelope at the end of every week works for you?”

“Yes.” She sighed in relief. “Yes, thank you.”

“Wolf figured you’d say that, but he needed to ask. Next thing – remember how I told you that guys stay here in the back rooms when they’re getting work done at their homes?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“So I just moved into a new apartment, and it’s getting painted all the way through, and the kitchen is being completely remodelled.”

“Ohhh-kaaay,” she said. “So – congratulations on the new home?”

“Thank you, roomie.”

“What?” Iris stared at him in utter shock. “So – so you’ll be staying at the bar? In one of these back rooms?”

“No, not down here. I’ll be upstairs with you.”

Her face went from shocked to panicked. “In my room with me?”

“Nooooo. God , no. Iris, you know you’re safe here, right? Nothing goes on that you don’t know about beforehand and consent to… you get that? No matter what we all look like we’re capable of, nobody is going to show up at your door one night and force their way in.”

Iris took a deep breath. “I get that. I do. It’s just – sometimes I kind of forget.”

“Conditioning and training are powerful things. In the case of fuckers like Gideon, they’re called brainwashing.”

“Yeah, they are. OK, so… what does this mean, that you’re staying upstairs with me?”

“It means that Cain gets to go home and sleep at night in his own bed, and then he can go to work the next day actually rested. He works on Cowboy’s ranch, you know.”

“No,” she said, surprised at both of those pieces of information. “I assumed they both worked around here somewhere. It seems like you MC members are all connected to the club businesses one way or another.”

“It’s true that quite a few of us are, but some of the guys have their own thing going on. Like I said, Cowboy has his own ranch and Cain works there for him, but he took some time off to do guard duty for you.”

“Ah. Right. But if you’re upstairs, you’re on guard duty?”

“Kind of. I’ll be five rooms down from yours, right at the top of the stairs. Wolf will set up some motion sensors in the hallway during the night. You understand, this is just until he feels confident about who you are and that you won’t go sneaking off to get up to some mischief.”

She nodded, a bit sadly. “I guess trying to blackmail him didn’t win me any points, huh?”

“Yeah, no. Wolf is awesome at being the blackmailer, but he isn’t crazy about being the blackmailee. Having said that, he definitely believes that you’re here in good faith now – he sees that you want to work, and earn and save some money, and start again on your own terms. Yes, he wants to keep you close for his own peace of mind, but he knows that you benefit from being here too. Just give it time, OK? Carry on doing what you’re doing, and soon enough, he’ll relax and lift all the supervision.”

“Well, I’m used to being watched and monitored.” Iris shrugged. “I’m not thrilled to still be under the microscope, but I do understand where Wolf’s coming from. It’s not great, but it’s OK.”

“I’m sorry about it, baby. But Wolf’s a reasonable man, no matter how much he growls and glowers at you. He’ll come around quicker than you think.”

“OK, so I’ll wait it out.” She gave him that smile again, the real one, the one that made her gorgeous face light up. “And how long are we going to be housemates?”

“A couple of weeks for sure. I don’t mind living with a wrecked kitchen for a little while, but I can’t stand new-paint smell. Gives me wicked headaches.”

“Right? New-paint smell is the worst .”

“As bad as finding random strangers’ hot-pink thongs while you’re cleaning?”

“Pretty damn close second.” She held up her hands. “But that’s what the gloves are for. Rebel told me to wear them and no debate and I wondered why. Now I know.”

They shared a grin, and Viking realized how much he actually liked this woman.

“Hey,” said a voice from the doorway. “You guys alright?”

Viking and Iris turned to see Zoe and Scars standing there, his arms around her from behind, her head resting back against his huge chest. They weren’t the kind of couple who were super into PDAs, but they looked so comfortable with each other, so connected, that seeing them together tugged on Viking in a way that it never had before.

This time, he looked at his Vice-President and his fiancée and saw two people who had literally gone through the fires of hell together. They’d had a choppy start, back when Zee had zero faith in Scars and was suspicious and untrusting of all the guys in the club. She’d been awful to Scars for ages, just a straight-up bitch to the man every time he had wandered into her orbit. Finally, she had seen that not only was Scars a decent, loving, amazing person, he was also head over heels for Zee. He adored Zoe’s daughter Keira, he worshipped the ground that Zoe walked on, and he proved that he put them before himself when he risked his life to save Keira’s.

Now here they were, after all that, and after a long and painful recovery process for Scars after the burns to his back and chest. They were happy and strong and ready to promise the rest of their lives to each other.

Viking had never been interested in marriage, never had a relationship that had lasted longer than a couple of years. He’d been married to his medical school education, then to being a doctor, then to being a medic in war, then to protecting his MC and brothers. He’d done all of that with no hesitation and no regrets because he’d been happiest helping others, and putting all of his attention into doing that very thing, in its various forms.

But that’s not the only reason, is it? Be honest.

OK, well. If he were being totally honest, his role in the MC back then had given him pause about being in a committed relationship. He hadn’t felt good thinking about being the Road Devils body-man, picking up the dead and ferrying them all over the country to get rid of the evidence, then going home to a sweet, loving woman. He’d been afraid that he would bring some of that ugliness back with him, that it would just cling to him like dirt under his shoes. He was convinced that he’d contaminate his woman’s innocence and poison the relationship, and he didn’t want to do that to someone.

When Wolf had taken the club legit a few years before, Viking had been thrilled, mostly because he was finding it harder and harder to deal with the dead. As a doctor, he’d always stood with one foot in the valley of death, but he’d also been a fierce warrior for life. He’d fought to keep people alive, and healthy, and well; in his last few years in the MC, he had been fully engulfed in shadow. Wolf brought him back to the light, and he’d never stop being grateful for that.

But he hadn’t fully embraced that light, not really. He’d held himself back from true human connection with a woman, and now, looking at Scars and Zee, he felt an ache at what he didn’t have.

“Hi,” Iris said. “I’m good, and I’m all done. Perfect timing.”

“Good,” Scars said. “I’ll be waiting in the car, sugar.”

“OK,” Zoe said. “I’ll just help Iris put everything away and we’ll be right out.”

“Where’s Keira?” Viking asked her as he picked up the vacuum. “Who’s got the happy task of watching the miniature spitfire while you guys go spend lots of money?”

“Believe it or not, Wolf volunteered.”

“I do not believe it,” Viking said, as the three of them went to the supply closet and returned all the cleaning stuff. “The thought of Wolf Connor babysitting a little girl is delightful, though.”

“Right?” Zoe grinned. “He’s taking her skating.”

“Oh, my God.” Viking was beside himself. “Where? Where ? I need to go take pictures of this, I swear.”

“Wolf made me swear not to tell, and I am a woman of my word.”

“Damn.” Viking shut the closet door. “There goes the framed picture for over my fireplace.”

The women laughed, and Zoe looked at Iris.

“You ready to go do some damage?” she asked. “The all-night mall sales wait for no woman.”

“Yep. Let me just run upstairs and grab my money.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Wolf kicked in another hundred and fifty bucks,” Zoe told her. “Scars has it for you.”

“He – what?” Iris said. “Why?”

“Because you worked a twelve-hour day today, and he’s paid you for it. It’s not riches, but it’s cash-in-hand and tax-free. Shhhh, don’t tell our accountant. Wolf will sort it out with her when she’s back at work.”

“I’ll have to thank him,” she said, flustered. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Thank him tomorrow,” Zoe said. “He’s ice skating with a little girl in a tutu right now. I mean Keira is wearing the tutu, not him.”

Iris laughed. “ That is quite a mental picture. OK, I’ll be right back.”

They watched her go, then Viking turned to Zoe. “Any word how Jolene is doing? Has Silver called from Open Skies Ranch?”

“Scars talked to him today. He said that Jo is actually doing well, much better than she was. Her head is healed and she’s walking around slowly, but she’s mobile.”

“But mentally?”

“Yeah.” Zoe sighed. “That’s the part that will take a while, huh? I mean, she knows that it was either kill or be killed, and she knows that everyone except us and Wolf and Scars thinks Silver shot her ex, but she’s feeling – well. Fragile. She also feels terrible that Silver’s taking the rap for what she did, but he’s insisting that this is what he wants.”

“The Enforcers know too,” Viking reminded her. “Ice and Cain were on the cleanup and saw what happened.”

“Oh, right. True.”

“As for everyone thinking that Silver did it, I think that’s highly unlikely. If I were a betting man, I’d say that every Road Devil knows what really happened in Jo’s bedroom that night.”

“You too, huh? Me and Scars are sure that everyone knows the truth, even if nobody is saying a word.”

“Us MC boys aren’t so dumb, are we doll face?”

“Yeah, you guys do surprise me once in a while.” Then she thought about Wolf taking Keira skating, and about Scars first offering Iris a job, and about Silver claiming to have killed a man to spare his woman the stigma. “Actually… more than once in a while. All the time.”