Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6

by Manda Mellett

  “Christ, I look like an FNG,” I tell him, as I see myself in the mirror for the first time after he finishes. “You’ve taken it a bit short.”

  “Shorter is best,” he tells me. “The site where you had your operation won’t show so much. I’m amazed there’s so little scarring. Did they really cut part of your skull out?”

  “Yeah. Frightening, isn’t it?” I shudder, thinking of having a surgeon’s hands inside my head. I’m glad I’d been unaware of it, knowing some people are conscious during brain operations.

  Mace finishes brushing hair off my neck and shoulders. “There, all done. It will be easier as you can just shower and go now. Cas coming tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “How are you getting along with him?”

  “Alright, I think. It’s so fuckin’ strange having a son near grown up.”

  Mace comes around in front of me. “The Liz I knew never wanted a wife and kids. You ever think it’s because in the depths of your mind, you knew you already had a family and didn’t want to replace them?”

  I inhale, then sigh the breath out. “I don’t remember that I didn’t remember. And if that’s not fucked up, I don’t know what is.”

  “How you getting on with Vanna? Things moving in the right direction?”

  “Truth man?” He nods, so I give it to him. “We can’t move past being friends. Nowhere near approaching lovers. Sometimes I wonder whether going back to her house, being forced to live together would have made a difference. We’d have to share the same bed for a start.”

  “Or one of you would have ended up sleeping on the couch.”

  Quite possibly, and knowing my luck, it would have been Vanna. She wouldn’t have let me as I’m still recovering.

  “She’s an attractive woman, Liz. Hey.” He holds up his hands as I stiffen. “Just calling it for what it is. You must have noticed.”

  Taking another deep breath, I wave down at my groin. “I’m not interested in her that way.”

  His eyes widen. “You’re telling me she doesn’t give you a fuckin’ chubby?”

  I jerk my head up and down sadly.

  “You get hard when you see the club girls?”

  “Fuck no,” I reply aghast. Apparently I once did, but they don’t get me horny now.

  He prods me in the shoulder. “You’re a dick, you know that?” I do, unfortunately, that’s the point. “What is it about ‘you’ve just had a brain op’ that you don’t understand? I know you probably think it has a mind of its own, but for your information, your dick’s under control of the head on your shoulders.”

  I gaze at him. Is he right? Am I not getting horny because I can’t anymore? I don’t know what’s more horrifying. That I can no longer get it up for my wife, or that I can’t for anyone at all.

  He reads my mind. “Christ, Liz. I’m not saying Viagra is in your future. I’m saying you need to give yourself time. If nothing’s getting your dick to stand to attention, it’s probably just your brain still sorting shit out.”

  I hope he’s right. “Thing is Mace, there’s a brick wall between me and Vanna, and I’m not talking about the one between my room and the next. We talk, politely, but as strangers. I just can’t think how to start breaking that darn wall down.”

  “Hey,” he continues, “think about this. Say if you’d parted from Vanna twelve years ago, got divorced or something. If you’d lived separate lives all that time, then met her again and wanted to get back with her, would you have invited her straight back into your bed?”

  “Of course I fuckin’ wouldn’t. That would be awkward. We’d have to…” I pause and look at him thoughtfully. “I’d have to court her again. You’re fuckin’ right, Mace. I need to take her on a date.”

  He claps his hands as if I’d performed a trick. “Well that would be a good place to start in my humble opinion.”

  I decide to turn the tables. “You seem pretty friendly with the woman, Shayla.”

  One side of his mouth turns up. “If I’m honest, I don’t know what I want, Liz. Never saw myself with an old lady, but she doesn’t deserve a man who’d fuck her and run. We’re friends, like you and Vanna, but the difference is, she turns me the fuck on. If I was going to settle down, it would be with a woman like Shayla. For now, I’m just going with the flow and seeing where it leads us.”

  “And if it leads to your bed?”

  “I hope it does, Brother. Just not sure of what happens after.”

  I pull my crutches toward me, far more practiced now, it only takes seconds before I’m standing. “Thanks, man, for the haircut and the advice.”

  He waves off my gratitude. “Anytime. Now get out of here.”

  I grin and walk to the door. With my hand on the doorknob I half turn and say over my shoulder, “Why the fuck am I thinking of ginger?” Then, certain my brain’s now playing olfactory tricks on me, I shake my head and make my exit.

  Instead of descending the stairs, I go to the room where Vanna is staying. When I knock, she opens the door wearing a robe which she pulls around her tightly. A towel twisted into a turban covers her hair, and the red glow of her skin tells me she’s just gotten out of the shower.

  She doesn’t invite me in, and I don’t ask to enter, her clothing, or lack off, a step of intimacy neither of us are ready for yet. But I do lean in closer and inhale. Whatever shampoo or shower gel she’s just used is enticing, melding beautifully with the perfume that’s hers.

  “Liz. Your hair!” Her eyes widen.

  “Had to be done, Vanna.”

  “It’s so short.” One hand holds the robe together, the other reaches out and I bend so she can run it across my scalp. “Stubbly,” she informs me.

  “You like it?”

  “I used to, but now it reminds me of when you were in the Marines.”

  I can tell by her face it had been a worrying time for her, her concern not unfounded considering the way my service had ended. “I’ll grow it again.”

  “Just do what you’re most comfortable with.”

  Should it worry me that she doesn’t have an opinion? Or does she feel unable to voice it? I set that aside for now, and tell her, “Tomorrow night, you, me and Cas are going for a family meal. Away from the club. Then, on Monday, I’m taking you out.”

  One side of her mouth curves. “Are you telling or asking?”

  I smile. “Which would work?”

  “In this case, either. I think that both are a good idea.”

  I give her the full intense weight of my stare. “Let’s just make this clear. Monday is date night. We’re going to start over.”

  I try to read her expression but can’t tell whether she thinks if that’s a good or bad thing.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Mace

  Shayla working at the shop is playing havoc with my libido. That I’m smoking more hasn’t gone unnoticed by Pyro. Seems every time she leans over—to get to something on an engine or a spare part off the workbench, it doesn’t matter the fuck what for—I get sight of her perfect ass, or the curve of her tits, and I have to take five to bring myself under control.

  The club girls hold no interest for me, seems my dick has decided it only wants her.

  I’m taking things slowly, making sure not to rush her, just trying to make her more comfortable around me. Ignoring the effect she has on my dick, I enjoy being around her. Since our lunch date we haven’t progressed further, but I’ve maintained the ground I’d gained, sneaking kisses when there’s no one around us, and my hand often brushes against hers when I reach for a tool, or step too close when passing her. She’s good company, and we often share jokes as we work, her often mocking me I wouldn’t know what to do with a real engine.

  My evenings had been tied up lately. Wills had had to head out of town for a few days, which meant I’d stepped up and taken his role temporarily at the strip club. But he’s on his way back now, which leaves me free to ask Shayla out again.

  I take the opportunity when Pyro steps ou
t to deliver a car, and Ink is fuck knows where. Beckoning to her, I open the door to the storeroom, checking first that none of the civilian workers are inside.

  “What are you doing, Mace?” she asks, suspiciously.

  “Just getting some privacy to ask you out, darlin’. This way you can turn me down without any asshole being any the wiser.” I wink.

  She chuckles softly. “Another date? Was lunch the first one then? Is this your way of asking if we can progress to second base?”

  It might well be. I grin. “Is that where I can put my hands on your delicious backside?”

  “As long as I can get mine on yours.” My eyes open wide at her reply. She stuns me more when she adds, “Might have to move quickly through the bases, I don’t want to be responsible for you getting cancer.” She starts to laugh at the expression on my face, and my eyebrows rise higher. “You…” she starts, stops, then tries again, “All I need to do is wiggle my ass, and you’re running outside.”

  “You do that on purpose?” I growl. I’d thought it was just something she did unconsciously. “You been fuckin’ taunting me woman? Fuck. I thought I was hiding what a pervert I was, ogling your ass all the time.”

  “You think I don’t stare at yours?”

  What? I hesitate to ask but want to know the answer. “Do I, er… Do I have the same effect on you?” Please say yes.

  “Well I may have thought of taking up smoking a few times.” She winks. “But I don’t have something to hide.”

  “True,” I lean in closer, “but please tell me you have to bring spare panties to work.”

  She knocks against my arm. “Mace. I’m so not telling you that.”

  I was right not to rush things. Seems taking it slow, getting her used to me being around, has worked. “So, tomorrow. You want to come out with me?”

  “Not tonight?”

  I wish I could. “Church tonight, darlin’. But tomorrow I’m all yours.”

  When she raises her face, I know she wants me to kiss her, but she tells me first, her voice breathy, “Mace, you taunt me as much as I taunt you. But I don’t know if...”

  “I won’t push if you’re not ready. First base will do for now, Shay.” I can’t imagine ever saying that to another woman, but with her it’s true.

  “What are your waiting for?” As she speaks, she’s rising on tiptoe, one of her hands going behind my neck, pulling my mouth down to meet hers.

  I give her this, let her control the pace, and this time it’s a groan that passes through my lips. Not of frustration, but of sheer pleasure at her taste. The only problem with kissing her in the storeroom is that I’m certain to need yet another cigarette after. But hell, it’s worth it.

  That’s where I am now, outside, willing my cock to calm the fuck down which isn’t easy as I’ve the tang of her on my tongue and her perfume in my nostrils. The thought of spending one-on-one time with her tomorrow night is going through my head as I take a draw of smoke down into my lungs and blow it out.

  Of course, Pyro has to return at that moment. “Christ, man. Again? You bought shares in a fuckin’ tobacco company?”

  I ignore him and take another drag.

  He raises his eyes to the sky, then looking back down, asks, “You got anything you can’t leave until the morning?” When I consider my workload inside, then shake my head, he explains why he asked, “Demon called asking if I could spare you. He wants a meet with you and the other officers before church.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No worries, I can leave the Mustang, there’s no rush on it. I’ll just get my shit and go.” I take a second to explain to Shayla why I’m leaving early.

  It’s not unusual for us to have pre-church meetings, so I don’t expect anything of any importance to come up. I’ve been working my butt off all day, when I’ve not been gawking at Shayla’s attributes, and am hot and sweaty, so head for the bar to grab a cold beer. Then put my head around the door of Demon’s office.

  “Can you give me five to take a shower?”

  “Nah, we’re waiting on you, Mace.”

  His loss not mine, I’ve gotten used to the odour of sweat.

  “Should have given him the time,” Thunder complains, pretending to hold his nose as I take the chair next to him.

  “Asshole.” I elbow him in the ribs, then raise the bottle to my lips and take a long swig.

  Demon glares at his sergeant-at-arms. When Thunder smirks, but raises his hands, he proceeds to enlighten us as to the reason he’s got us assembled. “This is gonna have to be raised in church. Wanted to give you the heads-up and get your initial thoughts on it first.”

  Again, this isn’t unusual. If it’s something the club needs to know about it, officers who know about it first can best lead discussions toward where we think they ought to be heading.

  Sitting back in his seat, Demon rubs the side of his nose. “Red’s found Major. Well, found out something about him.”

  “Took him long enough,” Beef remarks.

  “Yeah, well, this isn’t a pimp who leaves his cards in phone booths.”

  “They hand out leaflets on the strip in Vegas,” Thunder remarks. “No need for any fuckin’ secrecy there.”

  “As I was saying,” Thunder’s once again treated to a glare, “Major is high-end, expensive and exclusive. His clients are well vetted and know what he’s offering so there’s no risk in any of the girls complaining they don’t want to be there—in fact that’s part of their attraction. What those motherfuckin’ clients pay for is someone considered disposable. How they use them and how far they go is up to them. The only provision being, if they’re permanently scarred or killed, there’s a premium to be paid.”

  I just stare as my blood runs cold. Just what did Shayla go through before she managed to get free? To be sold for the hour, the night, or whatever, knowing the men could do anything they had a deviant desire for? Even go so far as to kill her? My fingers curl into my palms, nails digging into the skin hard enough to leave half-moon marks.

  She’d told me enough for me to know she was taken unwilling, but by people like that? I don’t know if I could bear to hear the half of what she might have suffered.

  “Hard hearing, Brother.” Beef’s words get my eyes going his way.

  “Tell me we’re going to take him down.” That’s all I want.

  Prez shakes his head. “Mace, I know you’ve got a soft spot for Shayla, and we all fuckin’ hate Esme was involved, but Major’s swimming in dollars. His money keeps him out of sight and can also buy him protection. His clients are tight-lipped to the extent it took Red this long to find someone who’d talk to him. That they themselves are fucked-up bastards with money to burn only goes without saying. Red only got the info after planting Twister in the right circles and got him moaning about bitches setting boundaries. Dude approached him but was wary until they’d met a few times. When he eventually let him in, it was with a promise he knew where to secure girls where nothing was off-limits. He also told Twister he’d be tracked down and killed were he to say anything.”

  “Rope and Cuff had heard rumours there was such a man operating in Vegas.” Beef’s mouth twists. “Some of the motherfuckers with those appetites tried to join the BDSM club they go to but were soon shown the door as they were too sadistic.”

  “So, he’s got money and protection,” I observe through gritted teeth. “What exactly did Red say?”

  “That he’s not comfortable with stirring up shit when it doesn’t directly concern the club. In his view, it’s not only taking Major out, it’s dealing with the disappointment of his clients. The blowback would be enormous.”

  My mouth drops open. Shayla escaped, but what exactly had happened to her previously? We can’t let this man stay breathing.

  “We’re not taking revenge?” Thunder questions at the same time I say, “We’re not rescuing the other girls?”

  Thunder glances at me then shakes his head. “They’re all someone’s sister
or daughter, and we’re leaving them to end up dead? Not happy with that, Prez.”

  “I want him wiped out of existence.” I stare at Demon, but his face is set.

  “As it stands, he’s not a threat to the club either to us here or Red’s crew in Vegas. Hate to say it, Mace, but he’s just one player in these types of games. You reckon we should step in and deal with all the fucking traffickers and pimps?”

  “Prez, I know we can’t take them all on, but Major, fuckin’ right I do. He fuckin’ had Shayla. He marked her. Only Shayla’s quick thinking saved Esme from a fate she’d probably wish to escape from by death. He marked that kid, Demon. Fuckin’ marked her. I want revenge. Even a slow death is less than he deserves.”

  “Mace,” Prez snaps. “Esme’s back with her parents, and Brett Waterman has taken actions to make sure she’s safe. Shayla is here under our protection. What if making a move against Major goes wrong, and all it does is bring them to his attention? Yeah, just the thought of what he fuckin’ does makes me want to throw up, but I’ve got everyone’s safety under consideration. I’m proposing we make no move unless we know Shayla or Esme are in direct danger.”

  For once, I hate my prez’s decision. I sit shaking my head, unable to comprehend he’s even suggested it. As an outsider, I appreciate how he’s thinking, that his priority is keeping everyone here safe, and that means not attracting the attention of a powerful enemy in Vegas. But he’s not seeing it from where I’m standing. It’s my woman who suffered at this fucker’s hands. Suffered in ways I don’t want to imagine. My woman? I realise I don’t dislike the sound of it.

  “Have you spoken to Esme’s parents?” Thunder asks.

  “Updated them, yes. They’ve passed an ‘anonymous’ tip-off onto the cops. Hopefully the heat will come down on Major from that direction, and I’m quite content under the circumstances to let the feds do their job. Had enough bother when we got involved in cop business last time.” I know he’s referring to Ink being arrested. A wrong time, wrong place matter, but he could have gone away for three decades, so albeit reluctantly, I understand Demon’s thinking.