Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

P aige Hannigan closed her bedroom door quietly, not wanting to wake her boys. Her chin trembled as her stomach growled painfully. How was this her life? Skipping meals so her boys could eat? Wondering what the hell she was going to do tomorrow when her electricity got turned off for nonpayment?

She’d already sold everything she could possibly sell. From all of the electronics in the house to the toys the boys didn’t use as much anymore. She also took all of Richard’s belongings that he’d left behind to a consignment store. Some of his Italian suits had gotten her a couple hundred, but they were custom fit so they were not worth the value Richard had paid for them. She had sold every piece of jewelry she owned, including her wedding band and engagement ring. Her bastard of a husband had left her with his debt, what was the point of holding onto the symbols of their commitment to each other when he obviously didn’t care about her or their sons?

Turning so her back was to the door, Paige slid down the painted white wood. Her house was filled with expensive equipment and custom designed features, but it wasn’t worth anything. Richard had insisted on this house when they’d moved to Mount Grove two years ago. He’d told her their house in Detroit would pay it off once that sold, so the mortgage wouldn’t be an issue. Except, that money had gone towards paying off other debts when they’d received it. Not a penny had gone towards their ridiculously high mortgage with a ridiculously high interest rate. If she lived alone, she might consider taking in a roommate to help with the growing pile of bills, but she couldn’t risk that with her sons living here too.

Clutching her knees to her chest, Paige wrapped her arms around her legs. Tears fell silently down her cheeks. Despair, worry, fear, and shame swirled in her gut, but were unfortunately unable to stave off her growing hunger.

She’d reached a new low today. She’d gone to her in-laws, Richard’s parents, to beg for money. They were suffering too, but their sorrows were emotional from the sudden absence of their son. Hers were very much physical if she didn’t figure out a way to pay some of these bills. Her emotions, her anger, her rage, could wait until her boys were properly fed and the threat of bankruptcy wasn’t looming over her head.

She’d swallowed her pride for the sake of her sons. If Paige had needed to, she would have begged on bended knee, but it hadn’t come to that. Her father-in-law, Ronald, had been beyond apologetic. With his medical bills, their move to Mount Grove, and his retirement, they did not have anything extra to give her. Ronald and Cindy offered for Paige and the boys to move in with them, but she couldn’t sell her house due to the second mortgage she hadn’t even realized Richard had taken out on their home. Potentially, they could still move in with Ronald and Cindy and rent her house, but no one would rent the house for the amount she needed each month.

For months following Richard’s disappearance, neither Cindy nor Ronald would talk to her. She’d gone to Ronald over and over again to demand answers. He was the sheriff after all. He had to know what was going on, even if there was some rule about him not being allowed near the case because the missing person was his own son. Over and over again, Paige’s concerns were dismissed. No one but her sister-in-law Harper would tell her anything—and Harper hadn’t had much information as it was.

Finally, she’d snapped. She was not the type to mope around the house waiting for the breadwinner to come home. She had her degree in acupuncture but hadn’t practiced since Mikey was born. It had taken her almost six months to transfer her licenses, get her business permit and Pennsylvania business license, and find an appropriate business location. Opening her clinic Serenity Springs was supposed to be her step towards independence.

Then the true extent of Richard’s debt had come to light. Creditors had come collecting for credit cards she hadn’t even known Richard owned, either on his own or with her. The second mortgage that had been taken out on their home needed to be paid back before she could sell. And then her goddamn stepfather.

Her stepfather .

How could he? Richard knew how she had felt about her stepfamily. He knew she hated how controlling, demeaning, and demanding Thad had been. He knew she did not trust her family. She understood that Richard was loyal to her stepfamily to an extent—he worked for their company—but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how she personally felt too.

How could he be so heartless? What gave him the right to go to her stepfamily to ask them for money? She understood that her stepfamily had means that his did not, but still… Richard had known how they treated her. How much she hated being a part of that family.

As if potential bankruptcy wasn’t bad enough, she was under threat of having her boys taken away from her. Child Protective Services would not hesitate to come and take away her babies if they received a call from the Barringtons that their grandchildren were being mistreated or neglected. Even if there was no proof, knowing her stepfather, he would resort to less reputable means of swaying their minds. Like bribery.

Paige had thought she’d left that manipulation behind. It had been one of the reasons she’d agreed to Richard’s suggestion to move to Mount Grove. Their marriage wasn’t perfect, but she hoped it would improve once they were away from the city life and her family.

Little did she know that Richard had brought her family to Mount Grove with them—in a manner of speaking.

Her phone let out a sharp ding .

Paige didn’t want to look. The only electronic device she’d kept was her phone. All of the tablets, televisions, laptops, and Richard’s desktop had been pawned. She’d even sold the laptop from her clinic because she could schedule her measly amount of appointments from her phone and she needed every penny she could get. Without having devices in the house, she’d been able to cut her internet and cable bills too.

The last message she’d received had been from her stepbrother, Clifton, with a not-so-gentle reminder to pay back their money by her deadline.

Taking her phone out of her pocket with a shaky hand, Paige unlocked the device. There was a bit of relief when she saw it wasn’t her stepbrother. That meager relief was short-lived though. The app’s notification announced a private request for a total of five hundred dollars.

Since these requests were first-come, first-serve, Paige quickly opened the app to accept the offer prior to reading the description. She was not about to pass up the chance to earn five hundred dollars, no matter how degrading the request might be.

Thankfully, it was fairly mild for the amount of money offered.

Sighing, Paige forced herself to her feet. She had ten minutes to get ready before the offer would expire and open to others again. Walking over to her closet, Paige pulled out the ring light and selfie stand she’d gotten for pennies on the dollar at the pawnshop. Setting up the tripod, Paige looked around her to ensure there was nothing identifying in the shot. Live videos could be disastrous since she didn’t have a chance to review them before they were posted. If one of her sons woke up during the video, it would be even worse. She prayed they would remain asleep, because she desperately needed that five-hundred dollars.

Her stomach growled again as she toed off her shoes. After a quick wash in the bathroom sink, she pulled out her assortment of nail polish. She’d learned quickly to always remove the polish after a video so she could grab new requests without having to take the time to clean any old polish off her toenails.

Swallowing her pride, Paige placed her foot on the overturned crate with a bathroom rug covering it, put on a pedicure toe separator, and started the recording.

Five hundred dollars , she reminded herself with each new coat of red paint. She pictured her sleeping boys in the next room and continued her video. She would suffer through any humiliation to ensure her boys had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. Even if it meant becoming a foot fetish model.

Thank God this request was mild in comparison to some of the others she’d done. In her current state of mind, she probably would not have been able to stomach some of the more unusual requests.

Like the time she’d had to put little hot dogs between her toes and cover her feet in ketchup, mustard, and relish.

Five hundred dollars…

Five hundred dollars…

The next day turned out to be a good day. Her electricity did not get turned off. With her new five hundred dollar income—which was actually closer to four hundred and eighty after the fetish site’s fee was deducted and she’d paid the percentage for an instant transfer of funds—Paige had called the electric company to pay her outstanding bill. It was then that she was informed there had been an error in the system and she’d been overpaying her bill for months. Once the error had been corrected, she actually had a credit on her account that should cover the next month’s bill too.

Which meant she could put that five hundred dollars towards her outstanding bill for her clinic’s lease. If she hadn’t signed a two year lease, she would have closed her doors permanently for lack of business. She honestly wasn’t even sure why she tried to stay open with only five to ten clients per week. This small town was not open to having a Chinese medicine clinic in their midst.

No sooner had that thought come through did she get two notifications from her website’s scheduling system that she had new client appointments for the upcoming week.

Harper and Lucky came over to pick up her boys to take them to the park for a snowball fight. With a couple of hours kid-free, Paige started cleaning the house and did several loads of laundry. Thank God her water was from a well and not city water or she would have had to pay that bill too.

Another request came in from the foot fetish website. She quickly grabbed it, even though it was only for a hundred and fifty dollars. They wanted to watch her wash her feet in a bubble bath. Paige had to empty one of her dead potted plants she had yet to throw out all over her feet to get them filthy per the request first and then drew a bubble bath. She wore a bathing suit despite the instructions for her to be naked. With the tripod set up over her bathtub, Paige took a bath with her dirt-covered feet.

The next request that came in had a different timeframe than the others. Thank God for that, because she was able to text Harper to ask her to pick up a cake from the bakery on her way home. Paige came up with some PMS craving excuse that hopefully her sister-in-law would not question. As soon as the boys went to bed that night, she would bring her tripod out to the kitchen and walk in the requested red velvet cake for three hundred dollars. The only instruction was that she had to squish the cake between her toes for five or more minutes.

She could do that. Though she’d have to add red velvet cake to her list of ruined food items. Hot dogs and gelatin were also on that list.

By the time she laid her head on her pillow Sunday night, she’d earned another four hundred and fifty dollars. Not to mention some of her photos had sold on the fetish site and she had two new clients on the schedule for her week. Hopefully, it was a sign that things were looking up.

Demo grimaced as he pulled into the parking spot on Main Street. He was a couple doors down from Paige’s clinic, Serenity Springs. Normally, he didn’t mind the winter months that prevented the club from riding their bikes. Shortly before he’d been shot, Demo had purchased a new Ford Bronco Raptor. The off-roading vehicle had been his birthday present to himself and an encouragement to start going on more outdoor adventures. Despite his job as an accountant, Demo enjoyed the outdoors and exploring nature. However, since his injury, he’d been unable to take his kayak out or hike any length of time that required a supply backpack or to go rock climbing. He hadn’t even been able to finish out the club’s season with them since his doctor had prohibited him from riding his Harley-Davidson Heritage Classic.

Demo did not want to admit to himself or anyone else how badly driving still pained him. The way he drove with his shoulder rolled back, his elbow tucked in, and his hand sticking out from his chest, he honestly thought he looked like a demented chicken or a T-rex. Reaching with his right hand to unlock the cage’s door, he slid out into the slush-covered road.

Flinching, Demo worked his left arm through his cut before sliding it up his arm. The pull of the action sent fire shooting down his limb and up the side of his neck. Fucking Steel might have had a point that his pain was getting out of hand. The cold weather of January certainly was not helping.

On the back of Demo’s cut were five large patches that were all identical, regardless of one’s position in the club. In the center was a horned demon skull with crossing rifles behind it. The skull was missing its lower jaw. Via Daemonia , which was Latin for Road Demon , was on the top downward curved rocker. The lower upward curved rocker said Mount Grove, PA. Two rectangular patches paralleled the skull with the Latin phrases Cum Honore Ministravimus and Cum Honore Equitamus , which translated to With Honor We Served and With Honor We Ride, respectively. The embroidery on the rockers was white with a black background.

Last winter, Jenna had ordered winter coats with the club cuts sewn into the material so the members didn’t have to bother with having their jacket and cut. Demo thought the action was sweet and he did appreciate the forethought. However, the leather jacket had a tricky zipper and Demo had discovered he’d been unable to get his shoulder to cooperate long enough for him to zip it up two-handed. His current jacket was older with a worn zipper that was fairly loose.

Trudging up onto the sidewalk, his shitkickers protected his feet from the snow and slush on the ground. Tying shoelaces was another issue he’d come across in recent months. Unfortunately, he could no longer get away with summer sandals without drawing negative attention to his situation. Thankfully, he wasn’t planning on running any miles today. He’d figured out that he could tie his boots loosely before putting them on and then tighten them by pulling on the knot. It still left them loose, and they would continuously get looser the more he walked, but at least he was able to get them on and his plight wasn’t obvious.

Paige’s clinic had an LED lotus sign in the window. Above the door on the brick was a cute swinging wooden sign that said her business name and had an etching of a curved human back with three needles sticking out like porcupine spikes.

Demo let out an involuntary shudder that had nothing to do with his shoulder pain or the cold morning. He didn’t have a fear of needles, per se, but he was not looking forward to getting poked and prodded by a multitude of them at once or seeing them sticking out of his skin.

He was no coward, though, and he knew Steel would hogtie and deliver him to Paige himself if he did not suck it up and get this over with on his own. Letting out a puff of visible air, Demo squared his shoulders and entered the clinic.

Paige’s money problems were apparent as soon as he walked through the door. The entry was small with a four foot reception desk facing the door attached to the left wall. No computer or electronics littered the empty reception desk. The waiting chairs immediately to Demo’s right upon entering had a layer of dust on the cushions. No bell or chime signaled his entry into the clinic—which he did not like. Though the smell of disinfectant was in the air, there weren’t any aromas or scents that Demo would have thought an acupuncture clinic would have like lavender or peppermint.

Only some of the overhead lights were on. One might be able to argue that she was keeping the lights low for aesthetics or even that a lightbulb or two were out, but something told Demo that wasn’t the case. More likely, she was trying to keep her electric bill low.

The room was not unclean. In fact, other than the dust on the chairs, it was extremely tidy. Demo could see the pride in the place, from the flowers in the vase on the reception desk to the freshly cleaned windows behind him. Lack of clients had not diminished Paige’s obvious love for the place.

A small fishbowl sat on the counter, filled halfway, with something floating in it. It wasn’t a fish, dead or alive. Demo took a step forward, lowering his nose to the glass. It was a lily pad and lotus spinning around on the water. The center of the lotus was empty. Based on the shape, though, Demo assumed it wasn’t supposed to be. Maybe it was missing a candle? The bowl definitely wasn’t for anything living.

Beyond the reception desk were empty shelves. Demo wondered if it was supposed to be a mini store or if it was supposed to maybe hold patient files? Like Angel’s tattoo studio, the clinic had a door leading back to, he assumed, the patient rooms. Angel’s tattoo studio was parallel to Paige’s across the street. Additionally, her studio’s entry was bigger in square footage. Given that, Demo could only assume that Paige’s clinic also had a smaller number of rooms than Angel’s tattoo studio.

If she had a full docket, how many patients could she see at once? Demo would assume only one, but then why would she need more than one patient room? It would have made more sense to find an office space with only one privacy room and maybe a small office. From other layouts on Main Street, Demo estimated two or three patient rooms in the back of Paige’s clinic. Unless the need called for an additional practitioner, why would she get a clinic this size?

Footsteps approached and Demo straightened in time to see Paige walking out from the back area. She wore dress pants with sensible shoes, a nice blouse that hung loosely, and a white lab coat. Her unruly brown curls were thrown up in a messy bun atop her head. She wore little to no makeup, but Demo honestly preferred that on women anyway.

But what brought a smile to his face was the number of pens in her hair. He’d seen the style before in the Asian culture with decorative chopsticks, but that was usually with one or two sticks. Paige had a total of seven pens of various styles and colors sticking haphazardly out of her mass of curls. It reminded Demo of when he’d seen someone absentmindedly leaving multiple pairs of reading glasses on their person.

She paused in the doorway, her shoes letting out a sharp squeak at her abrupt halt. Paige blinked, looking for a moment like a deer in the headlights.

Then she shook her head slightly. “Demo, right?”

Demo nodded sharply. While the two of them knew of each other, Demo could not recall a time when they’d ever spoken to each other before. He’d always seen her at a distance.

As she completed her journey to the reception desk, Demo really took her in. Like him, she had a lean look to her. He was more height than muscle, built for speed over brute force. He’d been told more than once in his life that he had a swimmer’s body.

Like her shirt, her lab coat and pants seemed too big for her. Paige’s lean frame was almost too thin. Unhealthily so. Her loose shirt hung awkwardly, not accentuating her breasts or hips. She had a belt around her waist that was tightened more than necessary and bunched her pants, which were clearly a size too big. With her feet now hidden by the reception desk, Demo couldn’t comment on her shoes, though he had a feeling they would be worn and not an expensive brand.

Demo thought back to the last time he’d seen Nelson and Michael. Lucky and Harper brought them around the clubhouse at times. His son, Scotty, was over the moon about not only having a new little brother, but also another baby on the way as well as new cousins. Per Scotty, bigger families were the best.

Even with Paige’s obvious money problems, he could not recall seeing the boys in clothes that didn’t fit or looking hungry. With how attentive many of his club brothers were towards children, Demo had a feeling that was something they would have noticed and brought to question long before Hannigan had shown up on their doorstep Saturday afternoon.

She was barely making ends meet, but the boys weren’t showing a lack of care or necessities.

Demo’s eyes narrowed on her too big shirt. Trailing up her slender frame, he spotted the edges of her collarbones just under her long neck to the sharpness of her jawline. Her skin looked naturally tanned but also pale in a way. There was no natural flush to her cheeks. Dark circles accentuated her eyes.

When was the last time she’d eaten a full meal or slept the entire night?

Here he was mentally complaining about his damn shoulder pain when she likely hadn’t eaten yet that day.

“If you’re here to pick up Abby, I’m sorry to inform you but you’ve got the wrong day. Her appointment isn’t until tomorrow.”

Demo blinked. “What?”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Abby? Her appointment’s tomorrow.”

She thought he was here to pick up Abby? Hadn’t Keys made him an appointment? If it had been a bluff, maybe he could still get out of this without getting pricked like a pincushion. “I have an appointment,” he informed her.

Surprised, Paige reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone. Was she doing all of her appointments and work from that small device? Why didn’t she have a laptop at least, even if she shared it between her personal and work uses?

“Are you Ron Snyder?”

He probably should have thought of that. Keys wouldn’t have made the appointment under Demo . He wasn’t Sonny or Cher after all and Demo Snyder was just weird. Other than his dad and doctors, he was so used to being called ‘Demo’ that hearing his legal name from her lips sounded wrong. He didn’t like it, almost as if it lacked intimacy.

He blinked and internally huffed. Where had that thought come from?

Not wanting her to feel uneasy, Demo gave her a crooked smile. “Only if you promise to go easy on the needles.”

Glancing up from her phone, her chocolate eyes held a depth of amusement—and maybe even a bit of cockiness. “Don’t tell me the big, bad soldier boy has a fear of needles?”

It didn’t surprise him that she knew he was a veteran. Everyone in town knew that the Via Daemonia were all former military. She was around them and Lucky enough to have picked up on that, even if the town still considered her an outsider.

Demo dramatically puffed up his chest. “This air boy doesn’t like needles but tolerates them just fine.”

Paige’s eyes lit with interest. “Airman? I don’t think I’ve met anyone who was in the Air Force before. I know Lucky and Bear were Marines and Abby’s Bulldog was Army. Angel was Army too, right?”

Demo nodded, finding it interesting that she referred to Bulldog as Abby’s rather than just using his name. Somehow, though, it suited their relationship.

“So you’re my first airman,” she said with a wide smile.

The unintentional innuendo was not lost on him. “I was Enlisted, EOD.”

“Elephants Over Donkeys?” she inquired with a sassy twinkle in her eye. “No! No, wait, I got it!” Paige waved her hands in front of her. She snapped her left hand, indicating she was a fellow leftie. “Eggos On Donuts?”

A laugh escaped Demo before he could stop it. She was the perfect blend of cute and feminine, he noted. Her smile was infectious. Demo couldn’t help but react to her. In more ways than one too: not only were his eyes taking notice of her, but so was his dick.

“Explosive Ordnance Disposal,” he corrected good naturedly. “We located, recovered, and disarmed dangerous weapons.” He held up his left hand to show her he was not over-exaggerating the description of his former AFSC.

In the past, women had reacted differently to his hand. The two most popular reactions were to either be awed by his missing fingers or to be disgusted. What remained of his ring and middle fingers were melted together to make one large stump between his scarred pinky finger and what remained of his pointer finger. Scotty, bless him, called Demo’s mangled hand his ‘surfer hand’, because it permanently formed the ‘hang loose’ hand sign Scotty had seen on an episode of his favorite TV show Monk. Even Demo could admit to it not being the prettiest of sights.

Paige, however, had an entirely different reaction than the typical ones he’d come to expect. She leaned over the counter as if to get a better look at his missing digits—then she made a tsk sound with her tongue like a mother scolding her child and said, “You weren’t very good at your job, were you?”

There was utter silence in the room before they both burst out laughing.