“I’m sorry. But turning what you’ve got there into something else will take some work. You’ll need to go through what can be done with Vi, then she’ll have to book you in. This something you’re doing on impulse, sweetheart?” I’m wondering whether she’ll rethink it given time.
She huffs a mirthless laugh. “No. But I have been working up the courage to come to you.”
Her phrasing and her nervousness start alarm bells jangling. “Well, I’m sorry, but Vi’s the best person for you to see. Look, let me get the book and we’ll book you in for a proper consultation tomorrow.”
I make the appointment for Shayla Yonovich for eleven o’clock the next morning, then as she leaves with a dejected look on her face while my pre-booked client walks in the door. I lead him back to my station and put the morning’s visitor out of my mind. For the next few hours, I concentrate on the man lying flat on my table, glad to find he relaxes fast and is easy to work on. The whirr of my tattoo gun and the necessary one-hundred-percent concentration means the time passes fast.
Soon, it seems, my client has gone, and another day, at least for me, is over.
“You okay to lock up?” As I ask it, I know it’s a dumb question. I always head off early on a Wednesday as that’s the day we have church. Jonah’s well used to staying late on his own, or, as I notice tonight, with Whale by his side. I hadn’t noticed him come in.
“W… Weston.” I raise my chin toward him. “You made a decision yet?”
The big man shuffles his feet. “Yeah, I’ll take the job if you still want me.”
“No more running to the MC prez.” It’s Jonah who says this, pointing the tattoo gun at his brother. “The boss,” he now points at me, “can call you what he darn well wants.”
Weston’s eyes darken, but then he shrugs and nods. Seems like he wants this position.
Bending under the reception desk, I pick up some brochures I knew were there and chuck them at Jonah’s brother. I might have told Prez I was undecided, but in truth, had already made up my mind. Jonah’s vouched for him and wouldn’t tell me wrong. “Have a look through for equipment you want to order. Vi will sort it out for you.”
As he takes it with thanks and a nod, I realise just how much difference Vi has made to this place. Publicity for certain, and a semblance of order to the routine stuff too. Yeah, Prez did well bringing her on board.
Chapter Two
Lizard
I get back to the compound with time to spare for a beer before heading on into our meeting. I also have a moment to pick up a letter that’s come in the mail for me. It’s from the VA and gives me an appointment date and time. As I read it, I purse my lips. Fuck knows why they insist on seeing me to offer help I no longer want or need. I am what I am, got my life fixed, brothers around me. Nothing more they can do or that I want them to. I can put one foot in front of the other, ride my bike, fuck, and do my job. What more do I want? There must be many others far more deserving than me.
“You got problems, Brother?”
I’m used to nosy fuckers, and Mace having perused the letter I left carelessly on the bar is nothing new.
“Nah,” I tell him without any ire at all. “I’m fine, man. They probably just want to check I’m still alive.”
“Are you?”
I thump his arm. “I’m no fucking ghost. What the fuck, Ink?” I snap at the man who’s not just giving my letter a casual glance, he’s picked it up and is reading it thoroughly too.
“Hey, say’s they’ve got to check your dick.”
“It does not!” I rise to the bait, snatching it back in case I’ve missed something.
“Hope not,” mumbles Mace. “Got plans for later. Unless you…?”
Ink laughs and shrugs off the invitation that had been directed his way. “Nah. Happy with Liz taking my place. I’m with Beth now, Brother.”
He’s been one-hundred-percent faithful since he got together with her. I can’t understand it myself. “Surely, you miss fucking the whores?”
Ink slaps me on the shoulder. “Can’t say that I do, Liz. Can’t say that I do. Beth’s everything I want.”
“Aww.” Mace draws the word out, then stage whispers to me, “Pussy whipped.”
After giving a snort to indicate my agreement, I ask, “Heard anything from Beth’s mom or brother?”
“Nah.” Ink shakes his head. “We won’t, either. The only way they can stay safe is to become their new identities and live their new lives. It’s hard on Beth, but she understands she can’t contact them.”
“But you know they’re alright?”
“Yeah.” Ink grins at Mace. “Lost has a man who keeps check now and again, nothing to link him to us. Least we know they’re living and breathing.”
“Beth accept that?” Bitches can be tricky. They say one thing but mean another. Sticking with whores means no such complications.
Ink’s quick to pick up what I’m putting down. “She knows she has to, but she doesn’t like it. The wound’s still raw. She misses her mom, but I’m trying to fuck that out of her.” He winks. “So far it’s working, you know?”
A loud whistle interrupts before I can respond in the affirmative; my view is a good fuck can work wonders. Placing my now empty bottle on the bar, I waste no time following everyone else into our meeting room.
The citizens I was thinking about earlier, who believe our life’s all about riding bikes and coming up with nefarious moneymaking plots or discussing how to dole death out to our enemies, would be shocked to sit in on church, I muse, as Buzzard our treasurer runs through the finances as competently as any finance director in a company would. Money’s coming in well, so we’ll all have a little extra in our paychecks this month. I exchange a fist bump with Paladin, both of us with our eyes on new parts for our bikes. Me, I’m addicted to Screamin’ Eagle shit.
As a manager of one of the club businesses, I’m expected to report on how things are on the ground at Devil’s Ink. When it’s my turn, I give credit to Vi for the increase in revenue, not missing the gleam of pride in Demon’s eyes.
“Any update about Weston?” he asks.
“Yeah. Whale’s on board.” I wink as Demon looks up to the ceiling then down. “He came into the shop before I left to tell me he’s accepted the job.”
“He’s going to fuckin’ murder you,” Ink grins, “you keep calling him that.”
“Smother him more like,” offers Mace. “All he needs to do is sit on you and you’d be a goner.”
“Don’t fuckin’ care about the size of his girth.” Prez glares down the table. “Weston will be a great addition from what I’ve seen.”
The VP waggles his fingers to get our attention. “Since shit went down with Beth and her family, we still got Dirt and Nails hanging around. We going to give them their prospect rockers?”
“Don’t see why not,” Mace says thoughtfully. “They’ve proved they can be trusted to keep their mouths shut.”
“I kind of like them,” Thunder puts in. “They’ve got that military experience that works well with the club. I’m happy to bring them on board.”
Ink raises his hand. “Been talking to Nails. He suffers PTSD, but that’s not unusual.” A rumble of sympathy goes around the table. It’s certainly not unusual in anyone who’s served. Ink nods, and continues, “That dog of theirs is basically a support dog. If they’re going to be around more, I think we’ll be seeing more of the mutt.”
“The dog’s probably got PTSD himself,” Hellfire states, but not unkindly. The dog lost a leg in Afghanistan in the same incident that made Dirt and Nails leave the Army.
“I reckon Nails and the dog probably support each other,” I observe. “We’ve already got Max. Another dog won’t be a problem, will it?”
Beef grimaces. “We’ll just have to see how Max takes it.” He’s referring, like I was, to the seeing-eye dog that belongs to his wife.
“I don’t know how Bitch will take it,” sighs Prez heavily. “Fuck. When I’m not wor
rying about you fuckin’ lot, it’s dogs and cats I have to contend with.”
Prez has a good point. Though we pretend to hate her, we’ve all got a soft spot for the cat who wandered in off the street one day. When she decided to stay, we let her, and her behaviour had earned her that name. Fuck knows what had turned Bitch that way, but that cat hates men with a passion. She doesn’t much care for canines either and puts them in their place. One thing for certain, she makes life interesting.
“Right. Quick vote. We bring Dirt and Nails on board as prospects.”
Prez counts the ayes and doesn’t have to ask who objects. Just like that, we pick up two new prospects. Good timing, as Karl and Beaver will be patched in soon if I’m right. Got to have someone to do all the shit work.
“Ink? What’s happening with the gym?” Demon asks for an update, moving on from our four-legged residents, or three in the new prospects’ dog’s case.
Ink tosses a glare at the enforcer. I smirk. Converting part of the disused factory buildings had been Mace’s idea when we thought Ink would be going inside for a few decades. We’d have been doing something for a brother who couldn’t be here. When Ink returned, it had become his baby. At first Ink had been excited, then his initial enthusiasm had faded once he realised just what was involved with it.
“Your own fuckin’ fault,” Mace throws back. “You hooked on to the idea of running it commercially.”
“Think that was you, Brother,” Ink snarls.
“Well, you ran with it,” Demon barks. “Where are you at, Ink?”
Ink’s eyes shutter. “If it was just us, Prez, no one would give a damn. But opening it up to the public means getting all the right building permits. Feel like I’m drowning in paperwork and regulations. Health and fuckin’ safety.”
“Beth helping?” I ask, knowing she is, and for some reason, wanting his woman to get recognition. Of course, as she works in the government offices, she’s used to the way officials think.
Ink throws me a look of gratitude. “Couldn’t do it without her, Brother. She speaks their language. Anyway, we’re getting there. The outside is basically sound now, and we’ve finally got approval for the number of heads, showers, shit like that.”
“Keeping to budget?” asks Buzzard.
“Just about,” confirms Ink.
Shit’s bandied around a little more, like Thunder wishing Ink would get a fucking move on and Ink protesting that he’s doing his best.
Prez signifies he wants to move on and it’s then I recall what I wanted to bring up. Leaning forward, I clasp my hands on the table. “Don’t know whether this is a problem or not,” I start, making sure I’ve got everyone’s attention. “Does anyone here know a man, possibly in an MC, named Major?”
There are shakes of heads, and shrugs of shoulders.
“Why, Liz?” asks the VP.
I like and respect Beef. I answer him directly. “Woman came in today, wants a ‘Property of’ tat covered up. Fancy work, not cheap.”
Cad’s looking toward me now. “The woman’s name?”
“Shayla Vonovich.” I note he’s tapping it onto his tablet.
Mace is watching me carefully. “Send her elsewhere,” he suggests. “You’ve got concerns, Brother. Let someone else take the rap.”
I inhale, then exhale through my nose. I just fucking love that my brothers have got my back and have immediately gone where I went to when I first saw that property patch.
“What did you say to her, Liz?”
“Prez, I used a delaying tactic. Said Vi was the best person for her to speak to. She’s coming back tomorrow. Wanted to have everyone’s thoughts on it first.”
“Prez?” Cad waggles his fingers. “I can do some searching overnight. If she’s local, or this Major is, might be able to turn something up.”
“So,” Beef sits back in his chair, “covering a property patch doesn’t sit right with you?”
“Worried about blowback on us,” I respond. Yeah, it worries me. First off, having a ‘Property of’ patch is more than a wedding ring to any of us, it means a commitment which should last for life. Citizens get divorced, all they need to do is remove their ring. Sure, people in MCs aren’t angels, can stray, can have relationship breakups, but a man puts a property tat on a bitch, then she’s his property. Of course, he might be an abusive fuck. She could have left him because of it, and I’ll stand with her if that’s the case. But might be, she’ll have regrets. Then on his side, removing his patch may well be something he doesn’t want her to do. Depending who he is, there might indeed be trouble for us, especially if she’s from a rival MC.
“Leave someone else to do it,” Mace suggests for the second time. “Say we don’t have the skills to do a good job.”
I acknowledge his suggestion, but we can do it right. Some of the other places in town don’t have the experience that we do, and I’d be loath to recommend their work. “She’s a nice woman, Mace, from what I saw. Hate to have her end up with a bad job.” I breathe in and sigh out again. “It’s big.” I hold my hands about eight inches apart, then four inches to demonstrate both height and width. “Serious work. I do reckon Vi will come up with a good idea of how to blend and cover it, but some of the other assholes we know around here? She could end up with some of it still showing through.”
“Has she considered getting it lasered?”
I nod at the suggestion. “Didn’t get that far. I just wondered who this Major fucker was, and whether anyone here knew.”
Prez is the next one to sigh. “Vi’s got my patch on her. I’d hate if she wanted it removed. Not sure I’d take it out on the asshole doing the job, though.”
“But you’re reasonable,” Hell suggests. “You know Violet wouldn’t get rid of your mark without good reason. Liz here is right. If this Major fucker thinks property is his for life, it could come back to us. I agree with Mace. Send her someplace else.”
“Of course,” Thunder, the sergeant-at-arms puts in, “Major might not be in an MC at all.”
“What was she like, Liz?”
I turn to our road captain, Sparky. “Nervous. Scared.”
Pal laughs. “So, like most of your customers then.”
He’s right. I just nod. That she’d had a tat before only means she knows what to expect, and something as big as the one she’s got was most probably painful.
Prez pinches the bridge of his nose, then looks up. “Okay. Cad, do your stuff. If you don’t turn anything up about this man Major, then I’ll leave it to you, Liz. Don’t much like the idea of a bitch having a tat when she doesn’t want the man anymore, whatever he feels about it. If you go ahead, then we’ll be behind you.”
“And if we find he’s MC?”
Again Prez’s shoulders rise and fall. “Then it depends on whether we’re friendly or not, and what his position is. I’ll maybe talk to their prez and find the lay of the land. If it’s going to cause problems, we’ll have to turn her away, or persuade her to go back and sort it out. Property is club property after all. Pretty serious step to get her marked in the first place, maybe she doesn’t realise how serious removal is too.”
Yeah, right. Leave the decision to me.
I must have been glaring as Mace raises his hand. “I’ll go with Liz tomorrow. See what I think of her too. Could help if Liz and I put our heads together on what’s best to do.”
I’m more grateful than the enforcer knows. This is why I’d never put myself forward for an officer job, making the right decision is not my forte. I never quite trust myself.
That sorted, Prez brings us back to the agenda. Devil’s Pins is under the microscope next. I only half listen to Rusty’s report, an image of Shayla’s haunted eyes still in my head.
When the meeting ends, Mace claps his hand to my shoulder as we walk out the door, pausing to retrieve our phones. “I told Titsy and Breezy to wait outside my room. You still game?”
“Yeah.” I grin. A good session of fucking will clear my head. “Whatcha got, Mac
e?”
“New handcuffs, spreader bar and a violet wand.”
“Yeah?” I repeat, my lips curving more.
“Ginger butt plugs too.”
Now I’ve a vision in my head of those girls squirming when they’re on my cock, leg’s held open so they can’t escape the burn in their asses. “You’re a cruel motherfucker, aren’t you?”
He chuckles. “I am the enforcer. I like torture, what can I say?”
Breezy and Titsy are leaning against the door to his room. Mace unlocks it and stands aside to let the three of us precede him in, then he picks up a bag by the side of the bed and empties the contents on the comforter. He throws down a handful of condoms for good measure.
I swear both girls eyes brighten as they see the goodies he’s bought, picking up the fur-lined cuffs and toying with them in their hands, until Titsy picks up the ginger.
“Uh-uh,” she says, shaking her head and inching away. “I am not into figging.” She looks hopefully toward Mace. “Unless this is for you?” She turns to me. “Or you?”
“Nah, sweetheart. All for you. Now, shall we start?” He looks my way and winks. I’m happy for him to lead this show. Mace knows what he’s doing and I’m just here to watch, to learn, oh, and to enjoy. From the girl’s reaction they’re not so sure the pleasure will be theirs tonight.
Did I say Mace is evil and I may have a bit of that streak myself? Hell yeah.
Nodding toward me and then the second pair, Mace takes the nearest set of handcuffs and soon Breezy is restrained to the convenient rails of the headboard on his bed. I’m less than a moment behind him having Titsy imprisoned too. Again I copy him as he takes a couple of pillows and as he tucks them under Breezy’s stomach, I do the same to Titsy. Soon the girls are face down with asses up, and we soon have their shorts and panties torn off. Next it’s the spreader bars which we attach to their ankles and then fasten to the foot of the bed.
They might be protesting, but their wide-open pussies are glistening with anticipation.
Mace then starts to prepare the ginger. Both girls turn their heads toward him and watch with wide-open eyes as he pares down each root so that it forms a four inch finger. He digs a small channel out near the base to form a ring that makes them look like butt plugs.
Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6 Page 2