Her face falls. “What? Why? Oh God.” She covers her mouth with her hand and her eyes widen. “What’s happened?”
Shit, I forgot the last time Drum called her in was to tell her about that fucking contract on her head, so I rush to reassure her, “Nothing bad, darlin’, the boys just want you to do something for them.”
Wiping flour off her hands with a cloth, she excuses herself with the other women who are looking at her with various expressions of concern to envy. Women, as a rule, don’t get invited to church. Although I’ve tried to put her mind at ease, she’s paled, and she’s breathing fast.
As we approach the door, there’s laughter coming from behind it, and she sends me a quizzical look which only deepens when I take her inside, drawing her around to my customary seat at the table and pulling her onto my lap. As Drum wastes no time handing her a burner phone and a piece of paper, her eyebrows are almost up to her hairline.
I open my mouth to explain, but with a mischievous expression making his eyes sparkle, Drum stops me. “Just let her make the call, VP.”
Grinning, anticipating her reaction when she hears who I hope is on the other end, I state, “We want you to make a call for us, darlin’.”
Her brow furrows and she glances around at the rest of the members, who are all looking at me with varying expressions of amusement and expectation. “What, why? What do you want me to say?”
I wonder what’s going through her head, but Drum just gives her a prod. “Just ring the number, sweetheart.”
She shakes her head and looks down at the phone in bemusement, and then at the number on the piece of paper in case the answer lies there. It doesn’t of course. My grin widens as I wonder whether she thinks she’s going to be ringing a sex line or something and will end up the butt of the joke. But after throwing me a sharp look, letting me know in no uncertain terms if something like that’s the case I’ll suffer for it later, she picks up the phone and carefully taps the numbers in the keypad. Then I take it from her, put it on speaker, and put it in the middle of the table. It rings a couple of times.
“Hi,” a female voice answers.
“Er… hi?” Sophie responds.
“Shit, she doesn’t recognise her,” Dart whispers.
“Shush,” Drum admonishes him.
But then the other voice says, “Soph? Oh my God! Is that you, Sophie?”
Her hand covers her lips, and for a moment I don’t think she’s capable of responding, but then the words come spilling out. “Fuck, Zoe? Is that really you, bitch? What the fuck have you been up to? And who are you fucking?”
“Soph! Sophie! Are you alright? Where the fuck are you?” Zoe’s speaking through her tears and Sophie’s having a hard time fighting her own.
“Fuck, Zoe, you won’t believe what’s been happening to me… But you? Are you safe? Where are you?” Her voice is so breathy and eager.
“Yeah, I’m good Soph. Really good. Hey, you’re not going to believe this, babe, I’m getting married. You gotta come to my wedding.”
“What? Who? You’re getting fucking married, bitch? What the hell have you been up to? You’re not rushing into anything again, are you?” Sophie’s eyes narrow, and presumably she remembers what happened the last time Zoe got herself a man.
“My man, Kadar, is nothing like Ethan. Oh, and I’ve been finding out what this sex thing is all about, Soph. That’s what.”
“You’re fucking kidding me. You found someone with a big dick at last?”
“I’ve told you before, Soph, I’m not discussing the size of my man’s cock with you. But let’s just say he doesn’t disappoint.” There’s a short burst of masculine laughter in the background.
Next to me, Drum laughs, and from behind his hand says in a stage whisper, “Dirty mouths on these bitches.”
“Hey, who’s that, is there someone else there?”
“Oh, sorry,” Sophie explains, “you’re on speaker. Got some news of my own. I’m with my man here, Zoe. And you’re not going to believe this, he’s the fucking vice president of a bloody motorcycle club in Arizona.”
“What? Hang on a minute, got my man here too. He’s a sheikh. Fucking topped you there, bitch! Hey, Kadar, come over here a sec. I’ll put mine on speaker too. Soph, I just cannot freaking believe I’m speaking to you at last babe. I have missed you so frigging much!”
There’s a moment’s quiet, and then, “Hello? My name’s Kadar, Emir of Amahad, to whom am I speaking?” He talks in a cultured voice with only a hint of an accent.
There’re some snorts and other brothers are falling about the table in laughter. I wave at them to hush.
“I’m Drummer, President of the Satan’s Devils motorcycle club here in Arizona. With me are my brothers and Wraith, Sophie’s ol’ man.”
A chuckle from the emir’s end. “Somehow I’m thinking you’re not talking about her father.”
“No, I’m her fiancé,” I cut in.
“Fiancé? Bloody hell, Soph, you move as fast as I do. The two of us engaged to be married! Who’d have thought it?”
“So when’s the wedding?” they both ask together and have to take a moment to stop giggling.
“You first,” Sophie offers.
“In two weeks―it has to be fast. I’m preggers, babe.”
“Fuck. Zoe! You taking the piss or what?” Sophie’s wide eyes glance around the room as though we should be as shocked as she is.
“No, it’s the truth, I’m pregnant! It wasn’t planned. But we’re so happy about it. So, Soph, can you come?”
Now the male voice again, “If you could, you’d put the fucking icing on our wedding cake, Sophie. Zoe’s been wishing she knew where you were so she could send you an invite.”
Again, the table falls about at the swear word falling from the lips of such an eminent man. Once more I shush them, particularly when they start imitating his accent.
Drum’s glare has more success and our end quiets again.
“I’d love to come, if I can.” She casts me a slightly nervous look and questions me with her eyes. “But where the fuck is it?”
“It’s in Amahad. Soph, I need you. You’ll be a bridesmaid, along with Sheikha Aiza, that’s Kadar’s sister, and Sheikha Cara will be my matron of honour. Oh, it will be fantastic.”
“Where the fuck’s Amahad?” I ask, my eyes creasing with concern, and not a little disturbed at the fancy titles she’s dropping in there.
“Just off the Persian Gulf,” Mouse replies to me as if that’s going to help any. My knowledge of geography obviously needs brushing up.
“Oh, you must come, Sophie. I’m petrified of a state wedding, and you’ll have to hold my hand.”
State wedding?
“Oh, and don’t worry, babe. We’ll sort it out so you’ll be okay in the wheelchair.”
Sophie beams, even though her friend can’t see her. “I don’t use one anymore. I walk on a prosthesis. And that’s thanks to this club.”
Zoe gasps in obvious delight but doesn’t get the chance to say anything.
“Drummer.” It’s Kadar taking over the call from their end again. “Am I right in thinking it’s your club that has been keeping Sophie safe and protected?”
“Trying to, yes.” Drum gives an honest response.
There’s whispering on the other end. “I’m sorry, but I need to tell you that while we’ve dealt with the greater danger, Hargreaves, St John-Davies’ sidekick has disappeared into the wind. It’s just possible he’s deranged enough to see Sophie as unfinished business.”
Drum glances at me, I nod. “And I think we need to tell you that there’s no reason to worry on that score anymore.” He gives a chin lift to Shooter, who is sitting at the end of the table.
There’s silence, then Zoe breaths almost inaudibly. “Thank God.”
“If I understand you correctly, I hope it was with extreme prejudice, but I won’t ask for details.” That’s from Kadar. Drum’s eyebrows rise, and I wonder about the character we’re
talking to. Apart from the polite manner of speaking, we could be having a conversion with a president of another motorcycle club.
The emir continues speaking, “We’d like to thank you for protecting my woman’s girl, so I extend the invitation to our wedding to all the members of your club.”
“Why, thank you, Kadar. Er, am I breaking protocol by addressing you without a title?”
“Fuck no,” the emir responds with a laugh. “I don’t count this as an official call. And for your information, my sister-in-law, Cara, assures me this is a clean line.”
“That’s the hacker,” Mouse whispers.
Drum continues with a nod that the man on the other end of the line obviously can’t see. “It might not be easy for us to travel so far, but we thank you kindly for the invitation.”
Whispering on the other end, then an abrupt, “Of course”, then to us, “Don’t worry about getting here. I’ll send the private jet for you.”
Dart’s literally on the floor, his chair having fallen over backwards and his hand clutching his belly with laughter. Dollar’s mouth’s drops open, Beef is nudging Slick, and Heart’s simply beaming. The others have reactions somewhere in between. Mouse is tapping on his laptop and then turns it around to show us the Amahadian Royal Jet. I might know bikes a whole lot better than planes, but it certainly isn’t a small two-seater affair. More like a jumbo jet.
Drum’s leg is bouncing, and he’s strumming his fingers on the table. “Tell you what, Kadar, you give us the dates and that and we’ll have words this end and get back to you. Appreciate the mighty fine offer you’re making there.” Then after a pause he adds, “Look, I don’t want to blow smoke up your ass, so I’ll give it to you straight. I’m thinking my boys won’t fit into the whole royal wedding thing you’ve got going.”
The two at the other end of the line laugh loudly, and it’s Zoe who replies, “Oh there’ll be a fine mix of people here, and I can’t think your boys can be any of a rougher lot than the desert sheikhs.”
Again we hear male laughter. “She’s not wrong there. Oh, we’ll have the standard, less tolerable formal stuff, but the celebrations will include showing off fighting and riding skills.”
“Bikes?” Beef has been quiet up to now but that wakes him up.
“I’m afraid not.” You can almost hear the smile in the emir’s voice. “Horses or camels.”
“I’m up for that!” Mouse, who was partly brought up on the reservation, obviously has some prowess in that area.
Suddenly there’s a buzz around the table. This wedding is starting to sound quite appealing.
“What about wives or ol’ ladies?” Heart asks. “And kids?”
Drum raises his eyebrow. “You’ve only got the one, haven’t you? Unless you’re a fuckin’ fast worker.”
Heart shrugs as Kadar replies, “Just get back to me with the numbers. We’ll sort it out.”
“Oh, Soph, I can’t wait to see you. And I want to show you what I’ve done with the harem—”
“Your bloke’s got a fucking harem? You have to share him?”
“Way to go, man!” Viper’s nodding in approval. He fuckin’ would be.
“No, it’s not used like that anymore.” Zoe’s laughing loudly at my girl’s question. “I’d cut his cock off if he looked at anyone else.”
Drum looks around at his men, they’re all looking like they haven’t had so much fun in ages. “Kadar, man, it’s been good speaking to you, but maybe Soph and Zoe would like to get together for a private chat now that they've connected again. But I’d like to thank you. We’ve had a fuckin’ trying time of it lately, and a trip to Amahad―at least for some of us, obviously we can’t all make it―sounds mighty fine.” His pointed gaze rounding the assembled group reminds us we couldn’t all go and leave the compound unprotected or the businesses unmanned. “So I’d like to thank you for that.”
“No problem, Drummer. It was nice speaking to you.” Then, quietly, obviously to the woman with him, “Okay to say your goodbyes now, habibti?”
“Yes. Hey, Soph, got to go and keep my man happy now. You ring again soon, okay?”
“You try bloody stopping me!”
A few muttered ‘goodbyes’, ‘I love you babes’ and promises to give each other a bell―whatever the fuck that means―in the manner of all women who can’t seem to simply put the phone down. Then Drum loses his patience and ends the call by pressing the key, which gets him a glare from Sophie. He ignores her and leans right back in his chair, propping one foot up against the edge of the table and running a hand over his beard.
“Well, fuck me,” he says after a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. We’ve plotted murders and takedowns in this very room, and almost everything in between, but that must be the most bizarre phone call we’ve ever had. Then he starts to laugh. “Looks like the Satan’s Devils motorcycle club’s gonna be in attendance at a fuckin’ royal wedding!”
As he bangs the gavel, we all hammer our fists on the table in approval.
Sophie throws her arms around my neck and leans back so she can look straight into my face. “Best fucking day ever!” she whispers to me.
Reading Order
Turning Wheels
Drummer’s Beat
Slick Running
Targeting Dart
Heart Broken
Peg’s Stand
Rock Bottom
Joker’s Fool
Mouse Trapped
Paladin’s Hell (Colorado Chapter #1)
Blade’s Edge
Demon’s Angel (Colorado Chapter #2)
Devil’s Due (Colorado Chapter #3)
Truck Stopped
Devil’s Dilemma (Colorado Chapter #4)
Amy’s Santa (Next Generation #1)
Ink’s Devil (Colorado Chapter #5)
Devil’s Spawn (Colorado Chapter #6)
Coming Soon
Being Lost (San Diego Chapter #1)
Hawk’s Cry (Next Generation #2)
Note 1:
Each book can be read as a standalone, but to get the best reading experience for the Satan’s Devils, read the books in the order above.
Note 2:
While the Blood Brothers series is completely separate to the Satan’s Devils series, there is some crossover. Turning Wheels continues the story of a minor character who appears in Second Changes, and some characters appear in both series.
Other Works by Manda Mellett
Blood Brothers – A series about sexy dominant sheikhs and their bodyguards
Stolen Lives (#1) Nijad and Cara
Close Protection (#2) Jon and Mia
Second Chances (#3) Kadar and Zoe
Identity Crisis (#4) Sean and Vanessa
Dark Horses (#5) Jasim and Janna
Hard Choices (#6) Aiza
Satan’s Devils MC - Arizona Chapter
Turning Wheels (Blood Brothers #3.5, Satan’s Devils #1) Wraith and Sophie
Drummer’s Beat (#2) Drummer and Sam
Slick Running (#3) Slick and Ella
Targeting Dart (#4) Dart and Alex
Heart Broken (#5) Heart and Marc
Peg’s Stand (#6) Peg and Darcy
Rock Bottom (#7) Rock and Becca
Joker’s Fool (#8) Joker and Lady
Mouse Trapped (#9) Mouse and Mariana
Blade’s Edge (#10) Blade and Tash
Truck Stopped (#11) Truck & Allie
Satan’s Devils MC - Colorado Chapter
Paladin’s Hell (#1) Paladin and Jayden
Demon’s Angel (#2) Demon and Violet
Devil’s Due (#3) Beef and Steph
Devil’s Dilemma (#4) Pyro and Mel
Ink’s Devil (#5) Ink and Beth
Satan’s Devils MC - Next Generation
Amy’s Santa (#1) Wizard and Amy
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 m
ust 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.
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