Targeting Dart Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Author’s Note

  Glossary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Teaser: Heart Broken

  Stolen Lives: Prologue

  Stolen Lives: Chapter 1

  Other Works by Manda Mellett

  Acknowledgements

  Stay In Touch

  About the Author

  Published 2017 by Trish Haill Associates

  Copyright © 2017 by Manda Mellett

  Edited by Brian Tedesco (pubsolvers.com)

  Book and Cover Design by Lia Rees at Free Your Words

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.mandamellett.com

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Warning

  This book is dark in places and contains content of a sexual and violent nature. It is not suitable for persons under the age of 18.

  ISBN: 978-1-912288-04-5

  Author’s Note

  Targeting Dart is the fourth in the Satan’s Devils MC Series.

  While this book can be read as a standalone it picks up on a story that began in Slick Running, and which will be continued in the fifth book, Heart Broken. To get the full benefit I advise you to read books 3, 4 and 5 in the right order.

  If you’re new to MC books you may find there are terms that you haven’t heard before, so I’ve included a glossary to help along the way. I hope you get drawn into this mysterious and dark world in the same way I have done―there will be further books in the Satan’s Devils series which I hope you’ll want to follow.

  If you’ve picked this book up because, like me, you read anything MC, I hope you’ll enjoy it for what it is, a fictional insight into the underground culture of alpha men and their bikes.

  Glossary

  Motorcycle Club – An official motorcycle club in the U.S. is one which is sanctioned by the American Motorcyclist Association (AMA). The AMA has a set of rules its members must abide by. It is said that ninety-nine percent of motorcyclists in America belong to the AMA

  Outlaw Motorcycle Club (MC) – The remaining one percent of motorcycling clubs are historically considered outlaws as they do not wish to be constrained by the rules of the AMA and have their own bylaws. There is no one formula followed by such clubs, but some not only reject the rulings of the AMA, but also that of society, forming tightly knit groups who fiercely protect their chosen ways of life. Outlaw MCs have a reputation for having a criminal element and supporting themselves by less than legal activities, dealing in drugs, gun running or prostitution. The one-percenter clubs are usually run under a strict hierarchy.

  Brother – Typically members of the MC refer to themselves as brothers and regard the closely knit MC as their family.

  Cage – The name bikers give to cars as they prefer riding their bikes.

  Chapter – Some MCs have only one club based in one location. Other MCs have a number of clubs who follow the same bylaws and wear the same patch. Each club is known as a chapter and will normally carry the name of the area where they are based on their patch.

  Church – Traditionally the name of the meeting where club business is discussed, either with all members present or with just those holding officer status.

  Colours – When a member is wearing (or flying) his colours he will be wearing his cut proudly displaying his patch showing which club he is affiliated with.

  Cut – The name given to the jacket or vest which has patches denoting the club that member belongs to.

  Enforcer – The member who enforces the rules of the club.

  Hang-around – This can apply to men wishing to join the club and who hang-around hoping to be become prospects. It is also used to women who are attracted by bikers and who are happy to make themselves available for sex at biker parties.

  Mother Chapter – The founding chapter when a club has more than one chapter.

  Patch – The patch or patches on a cut will show the club that member belongs to and other information such as the particular chapter and any role that may be held in the club. There can be a number of other patches with various meanings, including a one-percenter patch. Prospects will not be allowed to wear the club patch until they have been patched-in, instead they will have patches which denote their probationary status.

  Patched-in/Patching-in – The term used when a prospect completes his probationary status and becomes a full club member.

  President (Prez) – The officer in charge of that particular club or chapter.

  Prospect – Anyone wishing to join a club must serve time as a probationer. During this period they have to prove their loyalty to the club. A probationary period can last a year or more. At the end of this period, if they’ve proved themselves a prospect will be patched-in.

  Old Lady – The term given to a woman who enters into a permanent relationship with a biker.

  RICO – The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organisations Act primarily deals with organised crime. Under this Act the officers of a club could be held responsible for activities they order members to do and a conviction carries a potential jail service of twenty years as well as a large fine and the seizure of assets.
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  Road Captain – The road captain is responsible for the safety of the club on a run. He will organise routes and normally ride at the end of the column.

  Secretary – MCs are run like businesses and this officer will perform the secretarial duties such as recording decisions at meetings.

  Sergeant-at-Arms – The sergeant-at-arms is responsible for the safety of the club as a whole and for keeping order.

  Sweet Butt – A woman who makes her sexual services available to any member at any time. She may well live on the club premises and be fully supported by the club.

  Treasurer – The officer responsible for keeping an eye on the club’s money.

  Vice President (VP) – The vice president will support the president, stepping into his role in his absence. He may be responsible for making sure the club runs smoothly, overseeing prospects etc.

  Chapter 1

  Dart

  I suspect I’m not alone in disliking hospitals with a vengeance. First off, it’s the smell, that odour of disinfectant that permeates the air and from which there seems no escape. It invades everything you’re wearing, so no matter what you do it’s impossible to shake the aroma that lingers even when you leave. Pain, sickness, and death are all around, and whether or not any effort’s been made to brighten up the décor, it does little to help raise your mood.

  Of course, it’s better to be here as a visitor rather than an inmate, but that brings its own challenges, particularly when the patient I’ve come to see is very inaptly named. Heart could more properly be called an ‘impatient’, fed up of being confined to his bed, and visibly suffering under the burden of the news that was delivered to him shortly after he regained consciousness. He’d been in a coma for almost a month.

  It’s not particularly easy visiting with a man of action who’s used to being out riding his bike but is now immobilised with one leg badly smashed up and broken ribs. Couple that with someone who has been told he’s lost his wife, and you’ve got one angry, devastated man whose emotions swing constantly like a pendulum. My club, the Satan’s Devils MC is determined never to leave him on his own, even if spending time with him is becoming an increasingly uncomfortable and soul-destroying task.

  Tonight I’ve drawn what’s become known as the short straw, and it’s my turn to keep him company for a while. As I exit the elevator on his floor, I’m mentally trying to prepare myself for the ordeal ahead. Don’t get me wrong, I love Heart like a true brother, and not just in the club sense. We’d joined at the same time, prospected together, and formed a strong bond while we were having all manner of shit thrown at us. But now he’s changed. Oh, he doesn’t look or sound any different, it’s just he’s not the same man that he was before the accident. Last time I was here I barely recognised him.

  I rap gently on the door and, as Beef steps out, ask in a low voice, “How is he today?” while hoping against hope I’ll be told there’s some improvement. I’m not asking for a medical update, his body’s healing alright, it’s his mind that’s still got a long way to go.

  Beef shakes his head, and I pull back my shoulders, prepared to be disappointed. “Bad, man. The doc’s talkin’ about lettin’ him out at the weekend, but there’s no fuckin’ way he can deal with comin’ back to the clubhouse and Crystal not being there.”

  Beef’s words are not unexpected. Nevertheless, I’d hoped to hear different. Closing my eyes, I press my hand against the wall, lowering my forehead to rest on my arm. Fuck, not only has Heart got to cope with his debilitating physical injuries, but his mental anguish on top of everything else.

  Just four weeks ago, everything was normal. Heart was riding back from a visit to Tombstone, an enjoyable afternoon out with his old lady, when they were deliberately knocked off their motorcycle. The incident leaving my brother fighting for his life, a battle which proved too much for his wife, losing it on the operating table shortly after being admitted.

  They’d had to sedate him when he was first told the news and, as much as I love my brother, I’m grateful I wasn’t the one who had to break it to him and watch him go to pieces. Now, a week later, he’s still not pulled back together. The man behind the door is a different person to the one that set off on that ride with his old lady.

  “How we gonna do this, Beef?” On top of his loss, Crystal’s bitch of a mother buried her daughter without waiting for Heart to regain consciousness, taking away his chance to say his final goodbyes. While I’ve never experienced a love like Heart and his old lady had, having seen their relationship from outside in, I know how distressing this must be for my brother.

  Beef, named for the fact he looks like a fucking bull, shrugs. “No fuckin’ idea, Brother. Fuck, it’s hard for everyone. We all miss Crystal bein’ around. But Heart? This has darn near destroyed him, man. He loved her so fuckin’ much.”

  He did. If ever there was a match made in heaven, it was theirs.

  There’s nothing I can say. Sure, we’ve lost brothers before—only this past year we’ve lost Hank, a prospect, and Adam, a fully patched member—but losing a woman we all adored has affected every member of the club in a different way. And it’s so much worse for him. Heart’s not just lost a friend; he’s lost his soul mate. Already I’m wondering if it’s even possible he’ll be able to ever recover. Up to now he’s certainly showing no sign. Beef pats my shoulder, a gesture given in solidarity as though to support me through the hours when I’ll be here. Then he strides off down the corridor in the direction that I’ve just come from, his head hanging low. Visiting with Heart is always depressing.

  Taking a breath, and then bracing myself, I enter the room, seeking any change from the last time I was here. There’s not much. Heart’s leg’s still in plaster from his hip to his ankle, but the bandage has been removed from his head. Having been shaven to treat the wound, his blond hair on one side is at last growing back, but short and stubbly, the other side left long. Inanely I wonder whether he’ll get it all shorn off to match, but how his hair is styled is probably the least worry on his mind.

  Eased off the pain medication, his eyes for once look sharp and bright as they track my approach, a change from the slightly dazed look he had before. I pick up the chair by the side of the bed and turn it around then sit astride it, my arms leaning on the back, and my chin resting on my hands. Neither of us speak.

  When the silence gets too grating, I’m the first to break it. Nodding at the crutches he’s obviously been given to use, I start, “Beef tells me you’ve got your ticket out of here. In a few days you’ll be home, Brother.”

  His eyes widen and his nostrils flare. “Home? I ain’t got no fuckin’ home.”

  It’s not the first time he’s snarled at me, but I ignore it and remind him, “You’ve got us, your brothers. You’ve got the club…”

  “What’s the point of the fuckin’ club when I ain’t got no ol’ lady.”

  “You’ve got yer kid.” Yeah, he’s got a three-year-old daughter, Amy, who he’s consistently refused to see.

  “She’s better off without me. Fuck, let her gramma have ‘er. She wants her.”

  We haven’t told Heart the whole story, it’s too much for him to handle in the state he’s in now. But yeah, he’s right. Crystal’s mother wanted the kid, but only to sell her to pay off her debts. She’d started the ball rolling that ended with their accident. It’s only the fact we don’t take out women easily that she’s still breathing air. And I won’t be alone in hoping she gets hold of some bad shit, or overdoses and removes the problem herself. All we’ve said to him is that she’s entirely unsuitable to look after a young child. He’s got too much to deal with without adding that information just yet.

  But I emphasise what’s already been explained. “Heart, she’s so into the shit she can’t even look after herself.” Yeah, she owed people for the crap she injects into her veins.

  “Well, let the kid stay with the prez and his ol’ lady. They seem to have taken to her.” We’ve all noticed he doesn’t even use the c
hild’s name. And yup, Drummer and Sam have been looking after her, and well. But, “She needs her dad.”

  Heart sneers and looks down at himself. “Ain’t no fuckin’ good to anyone like this.”

  I don’t remind him she won’t care, that she just needs to know one of her parents is still there for her, whatever shape he’s in. All of us have tried, but Amy, the spitting image of her mother, is the one person he won’t allow into his room. I keep my mouth buttoned up and my thoughts to myself. Better people than me have tried to persuade him. When he’s home it will be different.

  Pulling a brochure out of my cut, I try to interest him in something else. “Club’s replacin’ your bike. We’ve voted to get you a new model. Want to have a look at what you could get? Don’t know about you, but the new Low Rider looks fuckin’ ace to me.” His own was totalled as a result of the crash.

  But he’s closed his eyes and turned his head, pretending to sleep. I end up flipping through the pages by myself. It’s par for the course. Heart’s hurting so badly he just lives in his head, unable to move past what he’s lost and get on with his life. If neither the thought of his daughter or getting a new bike can start bringing him out of his fugue, then I’ve no fucking idea how to get through to him.

  A gentle tapping at the door gets my attention, and I look up to see an unwelcome but familiar face entering. It’s the fucking heat, one of the detectives who have been buzzing around Heart’s accident. Detective Hannah. Her erstwhile dirty partner, Archer, is long dead. Not that she has that intel yet, all she knows is that he’s disappeared off the face of the earth.

  I nod at her, and pretend to look past her into the empty corridor. “Detective. On your own today?” I hide my smirk. Oh, we’ve solved the mystery of who ran Heart and Crystal off the road. Archer admitted it himself. But that secret we’re keeping close for obvious reasons, including that Slick shot off his dick before our Vegas brother cut his throat. The cops won’t be finding a body either, Slick made sure of that. Just a few charred pieces of bone, which will take them time to put back together.