Being Lost: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #1

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Being Lost: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #1 Page 18

by Manda Mellett


  “I’ll leave this with you for now, Lost. You take a moment to think how to play it from your end, and we’ll catch up soon.”

  “Lost?” Demon’s voice is replaced by another.

  “Yeah, Ink?”

  “Beth’s outside and I know she’s hopping with impatience right now wanting to talk to her mother. You got Patsy ready on your end?”

  “I think she’s just as eager. You get Beth in, and I’ll get Patsy.”

  Dart points to himself, then to the door, indicating he’ll go get her. I nod as he stands—probably the best idea. She may not be talking to me.

  “Windows 95,” Token breathes out as the VP disappears. “Heard about it. Never seen it on an actual machine.”

  I slap him lightly around the head. “You’re just a baby,” I tease. “What did you use when you started?”

  “A Mac of course. Never saw a PC until much later.”

  Probably when studying for his degree. Like me, he’s got a background in computer science, though that shit is all behind me now. Programming would probably need a set of skills which I lost long ago. I’ve been impressed with Token’s ability though.

  Token vacates his seat and again the door opens. As he walks out, an eager Patsy runs in. She looks around almost as if expecting to see her daughter sitting in the room.

  “Patsy’s here. I’m taking my phone off speaker.” I do so and pass it over to her.

  As she takes it, her eyes gleam, and her attention is immediately on the voice of her daughter and she has no time for me. I get up to leave and give her some privacy, only hearing before I close the door the start of her conversation.

  “Ink? Beth? You’re both there? It’s so good to hear your voices.” Her voice is breathy, excited.

  I stand outside my office door, replaying the conversation with Demon. I don’t know how long I go over and over what Ink had found, and what could be the significance. Long enough that I’m still there when I hear an excited shriek from behind me. I take it that the young couple have just shared their news. Patsy knows her daughter is pregnant.

  I lean my head back against the wall, thinking back to the past.

  It had been me who’d wanted children, Kim hadn’t. It wasn’t until later I’d realised she needed all the attention on herself and hadn’t wanted to share what she had with anyone, not even her own flesh and blood. It was a blessing we hadn’t had any considering the acrimonious end to our marriage. It would have been far worse had we been embroiled in custody battles and co-parenting rights.

  Patsy sacrificed her own happiness to make sure her kids had a good life. Is still doing it, distancing herself from Beth to support Dan. She’s so far removed from my ex it’s hard to imagine how different they are, yet there I was, comparing them yesterday. I hit the heel of my hand to my forehead as I realise how stupid I’ve been.

  For a second, I imagine how I’d be feeling were I to hear I had a grandchild on the way. Happy wouldn’t begin to describe it. A new generation, a new kid to spoil, but then, that was never in anyone’s plans for my life.

  I can only blame myself. I fucked up by marrying the wrong woman, though right up to the end I thought she was my Mrs Right, with the obvious disappointment about the lack of children. Then I fucked up even my apparent sham of a happy marriage along with everything else. It hadn’t been until long after she’d taken the last of what I had, I discovered I’d never had a chance. Kim had been fucking somebody else for most of the time we’d been married. My fault, of course, I’d left her alone too much. Left her alone so I could earn money to give her the good things in life.

  Seventeen years ago, I followed Snake up the driveway that led to the clubhouse. One year later I received my patch, and then was allowed to fuck the women in the club. After a year’s abstinence, well, more than that as I’d not wet my dick since my wife had left, I took advantage. Club girls came, club girls went, so many I can’t remember all their faces. They were mainly anonymous asses and tits. Sex on tap became boring after a while, or maybe I was just growing older. I still had urges, still went with the whores from time to time, but I’d come to find relieving any pressure in my dick in the shower was just as good a release as any that the club girls gave me.

  Before I’d been so fucking stupid yesterday, I’d meant every word I’d said to Patsy. She’s the only woman who’s really interested me since my wife. Everything tells me the two women are about as different as anyone could be, yet my fucked-up brain expects her to behave the same way. One hint, and I was accusing her of all the wrong things.

  What should I do now? Leave her be? Or try to repair the damage I did yesterday?

  My whisky hangover is returning with a vengeance. With my office in use for the time being, I take myself off to the solitude of our currently empty meeting room and think, coming up with a strategy. Once Patsy’s finished her conversation, I’ll speak to her and get her to dig deep inside her head for any information she might have lodged there.

  Of course, if she won’t give me the time of day, I might have to deploy my backup plan and get Dart to talk to her.

  I sit on my chair at the head of the table, put one ankle on the opposite knee, fold my arms over my chest and allow my chin to drop. I couldn’t ask for a better VP than Dart. Now there’s a man who didn’t know his own value until he was asked to step up. He’d come here temporarily to help the club sort through the mess Snake and the traitors who’d sided with him had left. You can’t find not just one snake but nine in the nest without everyone becoming unsettled.

  Dart proved his worth, was so successful, we didn’t lose a single member. While I thought they’d made the crazy decision to put me in the top seat, he’d thought they’d made an equally ridiculous choice to set him up as VP. The result was, both Dart and I, with knowledge of our own deficiencies, had been more determined to do right by the club. The difference between us was that Dart was exactly who we all saw him as, reliable, dependable and trustworthy.

  It’s a privilege to be voted into one of the top spots. I stare down at the seat at the end, my original chair among the rest of the non-officer members, the place I’d always expected to remain in. My eyes glaze.

  The conversation had been muted, Brothers were still coming to terms with Bird’s untimely death. If they were saying anything, they were talking somberly. We were all shocked, it had been hard to take in.

  As the VP, Snake had slid into the chair I’m sitting on now, taking Bird’s seat but had not assumed he had the title as he opened the meeting.

  “Need a new prez,” he’d said. “Nominees?”

  Men had looked at each other, but Snake had always done a good job. Supported Bird and had all our backs as needed. I wasn’t surprised his was the only name put forward, and the vote wasn’t really necessary as everyone said yes.

  Was it only with hindsight, that now looking back there were times when Snake had made me uneasy? Times when I wasn’t certain he’d be good for the club? Bird had been like an elder statesman, taking time to think things through. Hard as nails but making sure whatever he did was to the benefit of all the members. He’d had a good head for business, which I could admire. Snake, on the other hand, was more impulsive, and had to be reined in every now and again. I recall I’d wondered who’d do that now Bird was no longer there to restrain him.

  What happened next though, well, that was the surprising part which I hadn’t seen coming.

  “I nominate Lost as my VP.”

  “What?” I’d sat stunned at Snake’s words which had taken a moment to sink in. I waited for the burst of laughter that never came.

  Instead Salem had raised his hand. “Seconded.”

  I’d looked around, expecting someone to object, to say how ridiculous it was to put me in a position of authority. But no one did. That night I’d sewn a new patch on my cut, half full of pride and half worried to death that I wasn’t up to the job.

  Had Snake used me? Yeah, hindsight is a wonderful thing. While I’d be
en oblivious at the time, I know now that he had. Then, I’d thought we’d come to a good division of labour, playing to both our strengths. He’d abdicated the day to day running of the club and our businesses to me and I was happy to take it on. He became focused on seeking out new opportunities and ventures. What I hadn’t had was an inkling of just what kind of shit he’d been exploring. How deep his desire was to take the club forward in a whole different direction, or should that be back? Drugs and taking out the president of the mother chapter had been his pet projects.

  All this was planned under my nose and without my being any the wiser. Sighing deeply, I still don’t understand how he’d managed to keep me in the dark. I was his perfect fall guy, running the club, keeping everything above board, while secret meetings took place and arrangements made. Yeah, some VP I was. Didn’t smell anything rotten at all.

  When Snake and Poke had been dealt with, I expected to be sent out bad myself. My crime? Allowing the wool to be pulled over my eyes, being completely oblivious.

  I shake my head. I’d been prepared to lose my patch over being so blind and stupid. Christ, it’s strange how things turn out.

  The San Diego chapter needed leadership, needed people at the helm to steer them the right way and sail them into less-troubled water. I was determined to do as good a job as I could, or, until they came to their senses and realised they’d made a mistake.

  What started that train of thought? Oh, yeah. Dart. Nah. I couldn’t think of a better right-hand man. We make a good team. He’s someone I depend on. I would never keep secrets from him, nor him from me.

  We trust each other.

  I’d never truly trusted Snake, but I owed him for saving my life, even though I’d always known it hadn’t mattered a damn to him. If I’d proceeded to walk to my death that day, he’d have just watched on with curiosity.

  Instead, he’d given me my club.

  So, I’ll do my best as prez to pay not him, but the Satan’s Devils back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Patsy

  When we’d returned to the compound yesterday, I’d clumsily got off Lost’s bike. I certainly didn’t feel I could take the liberty of steadying myself on his shoulder, and he didn’t offer his hand to help. Almost before I’d straightened, still sitting astride, he’d walked back his bike into its parking slot, then strode past without giving me another look.

  Bemused, I just stood staring after him for a moment.

  Well, damn the man. If he thinks Phil was redeemable, he’s completely wrong. Guess it’s best I found out who Lost actually was before I had done something stupid and jumped into his bed. One thing’s for certain, he’s lost his chance. If he comes sniffing around me again, I’ll tell him to get lost.

  Uncertain of my position now I’ve apparently angered the prez, I’d taken the same direction as he had and entered the clubhouse. Lost had been by the bar demanding a bottle of whisky. Again, he ignored me as he walked smartly to the stairs and disappeared up them.

  My head was spinning having seen two sides to the man. I’d gone out with a man I called a friend but returned home with a stranger. The change had been so swift, I was unable to predict what was going to happen now. I was half expecting, half waiting for him to return and ask me to leave. I had a speech prepared, begging him to give sanctuary to Dan. Earlier, Lost had almost persuaded me with him fighting by my side there was a chance I could regain my family. Clearly, there’s no chance of that now.

  But though I waited, Lost hadn’t come back down. Neither did anyone else appear to give me my marching instructions.

  A reprieve? As the hours passed, I gathered it must be. For tonight, anyway.

  A woman had appeared by my side, introducing herself as Eva. I was surprised when she unashamedly admitted she was a sweet butt. In the Pueblo club, the club girls had kept themselves to themselves, or to the men. But Eva had approached me in a friendly, do you want company way.

  She was easy to talk to. I recalled Alex had mentioned her before, and that she was a nurse. It didn’t take long for her to start telling me about her nine-year-old son. She and her ex share custody, and it appears, quite amicably. Whenever she hasn’t got her son with her, she lives at the club. She’s quite open about having sex with the bikers. It’s clearly something she enjoys and feels no shame making herself available to them. The contrast between me, who’s only ever been with one man in my life, and her with her vast experience couldn’t be starker.

  Despite my concerns about Lost and his strange reaction earlier, and Eva’s and my diverse outlook on the opposite sex, talking to her made me feel more at home. As I started to relax, I found myself giggling as she pointed out the men, then leaned in to give me some inside knowledge on what they do best. It made me look at them in a different light for certain. It was when she was conveying some secrets about Kink, airily waving her hand at him, that the man himself caught my eye. He shook his head in amusement and gave me a wink. I glowed red, realising he was all too well aware of the sort of details Eva must have been sharing.

  I tried to rid myself of the image came into my head of Lost tying me up with rope. That boat has sailed now, whether or not that was ever in the cards.

  Unlike in Colorado where the club girls, or sweet butts as the men call them, tend to make themselves scarce, here Tits, Cindy and Pearl walk around like they own the place. Last night I’d seen them strutting half naked as though advertising their wares. Nothing was hidden, and I couldn’t see how I’d ever thought I could compare. Why would Lost go for a middle-aged frump when he could have the choice of these girls?

  I’d had a front-row seat where it was difficult to avoid seeing one of the men getting a blow job out in the open. Pizza had just been delivered, and I’d found it quite distracting trying to eat while he was giving a running commentary on how he was about to come and instructing her to swallow every fucking drop.

  Eva had explained to me it was different when Alex was there—everyone was inclined to be more discreet when the only old lady was present, especially when she had their children with her. It had apparently not taken long for the VP to get them to behave. She’d giggled, remembering. Eva referred to Alex’s son Tyler as the junior prospect which I thought was delightful, and my questioning about his title led her to tell me the young boy’s story, and his fight with sickle cell disease. She’d confided his original cut, given to him when he’d been six, had long been consigned to the back of the wardrobe as it had to be replaced once a year at least. Tyler is now a normal healthy growing boy, and like kids his age, is shooting up fast. I ended up looking forward to meeting him and seeing him in his famous cut. Then my face had fallen as I realised, I probably wouldn’t get a chance.

  Dan had returned with Salem who he’d been helping out while I’d been absent today. He seemed to be getting on like a house on fire with many of the men, even seemed to be making friends. He’d spent a bit of time around Ink and his brothers in the Colorado chapter, so knew what to expect. Although bikers were not regarded as particularly upright citizens, I knew enough about Beth’s man’s club to know they were about family and respect, and in comparison with the man who sired him, were far better men. I’ve seen nothing to suggest the San Diego club was any different. If I end up leaving Dan here, I won’t have any worries in that respect.

  When Eva left me, I wondered whether I should just go upstairs, but Dan beckoned me over, and by his side, I met a few more of the men. The hardest part was remembering all their names. Pennywise and Salem handles were easy. Apparently when they’d prospected, the prez at the time had had a thing about Stephen King. Scribe was so named as he had for years been supposedly writing a book, but no one had seen anything of it. He was their secretary as he could at least spell.

  Smoker had introduced himself, and you could tell when he was in the room. He was usually coughing. After a particularly heavy bout, Eva had appeared and gone over to him, looking concerned. He hadn’t sounded a well man to me but suspect it’s do
wn to all the cigarettes. I notice he’d go outside, then come back in reeking of smoke. My creased brow had gotten Salem to confide that due to Tyler’s prior bad health, the clubroom is, nowadays, surprisingly smoke-free.

  All the time I was listening to the men, I kept flicking my eyes toward the stairs, hoping and equally dreading seeing Lost again. But he never reappeared. I’d found the whole atmosphere welcoming, and I had enjoyed the evening’s insight into his world. Or would have done, were it not for my concerns about what the future now held for me.

  I couldn’t understand what had turned Lost, like a switch being thrown from potential lover to a man who seemed to regard me with hate. While at first I’d been bristling, I wondered now whether I’d poorly worded something which he had taken the wrong way. I knew deep in my soul there was nothing I could have said or done to make Phil step off the path he was intent on going down. I had no choice but to make sure he dragged neither me nor the kids down it with him. But maybe it hadn’t come over that way.

  Misinterpretation or not, I was going to need an apology for the words Lost had thrown at me and the way he’d treated me.

  I was certain any chance of even a happily for now with Lost is dead and gone, but I’d prefer to leave on good terms, not bad. I needed to talk to him to at least clear the air, but that night I didn’t get my chance. I went to bed with my head full of lost opportunities, and with no idea of how to set things right.

  This morning I’d woken up excited about the promised phone call with Beth. Hopefully, we’d be able to talk for a while as I’m sure we’ve got a lot to catch up on. I want to hear what she and Ink have done to the house, what changes they’ve made, and how she’s enjoying living with her man. I know my daughter, once she starts, she’ll tell me everything. I doubt our phone call will be short.

  I’ve been on tenterhooks all morning, happily anticipating one conversation which can’t come soon enough, while also dreading confronting Lost. Having slept on it, I realise primarily I’m angry. His mood swing yesterday had been dizzying.

 

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