Devil on Your Back Read Online Free Page A

it over, and walk butt-naked around the bed to assess my choices. Picking up a pair of slightly faded black jeans, I tug them up my legs and am pleasantly surprised at how well they fit.
    “So, church?” I probe. “What’s the deal with that?”
    “I’m not sure; us women aren’t privy to what goes on in meetings.”
    I button the denim and peruse the T-shirts—black, Metallica, or Harley Davidson. I go for black. “Why do they have to go to church to do that?”
    She looks over her shoulder, and smirks. “Not church, church. They don’t go visit the priest or anything.” She smiles and giggles.
    “What other church do you know of?” I say, with my eyebrow raised.
    Her hair billows off her shoulders as she flops down on the bed. There’s no hiding the way her blue eyes trail my body as I tug the shirt on. “It’s another name for a committee meeting, basically. The officers get together and they vote on stuff. Normally, it’s held every fortnight, but then, you know, you showed up.”
    “Not exactly by choice.” I wince as I tug the fabric over my ribs. “Last I remember I was drinking on your boy King’s tab.”
    “They did a real number on you.” She stands and lifts her hand to my face. “This’ll take a while to go down.” Her soft fingers trail over my swollen cheek. “It’ll be interesting to see how you look without the bruising.” Her eyes dart to mine, the sincerity of her words seemingly taking her by surprise.
    “Devastating.” I wink, and she turns her head to hide a smile.
    “Anyway. You ready? Apex doesn’t like waiting.”
    “I guess so.”
    • • • • •
    FIFTEEN MINUTES later, and an unkempt bunch files out of a meeting room off to the side of the so-called common room. I sit at the bar, which runs along one side, and wait for whoever Apex is to hunt me out.
    A large guy with a gut that needs its own parking permit remains in the doorway, staring me down.
    “You the new guy?” he barks.
    “Who’s askin’?”
    He curls his lip in a snarl. “Get your ass over here.” The guy moves to an adjacent door from the one everybody exited and disappears inside.
    I meander over, unwilling to look too much like I jumped on command, and enter.
    “Sit,” he demands.
    I take up residence in a ratty chair facing a worn oak desk.
    “Callum said you didn’t say much.”
    He eyes me as I shake my head.
    “You know why you’re here?”
    All the head shaking I’m doing has me feeling like a sideshow clown. Any minute now, people are going to appear with balls to throw in my mouth.
    “King brought you in. You passed out, and Malcolm at the bar couldn’t be bothered with you so my boys managed to get you here.”
    “Why?” I ask.
    “They searched your I.D. for an address and found the people living in your house had no idea who you were.”
    “I haven’t lived there for a while,” I explain.
    He nods. “So, suffice to say they brought you here.”
    I look around the untidy office. Boxes are stacked haphazardly in the far right corner. Pictures line the walls: men with bikes, men with beards, and men with both. His desk is by far the centerpiece, but not because of size, rather because of the biohazard food containers littering its surface.
    “What do you want with me?” I ask, aware he’s been watching me case out the surroundings.
    He leans his elbows on the desk, finding a space to clasp his fat fingers together. “Nothing.”
    My eyes narrow. Nobody wants nothing these days.
    “You’re free to leave whenever you please,” he says, “but I get the feeling you won’t.”
    “Hadn’t decided,” I mumble, aggravated at how the conversation is weighing in his favor.
    “We can give you lodging, food, a purpose,” he states calmly. “We look out for our brothers . . . if that’s what you’re looking for. All we ask for in return is loyalty. Are you loyal, Vince?”
    Something about this man knowing and using my name has me unsettled. “I’d like to think I