Clutch: Satan's Fury MC

by L. Wilder

  It was still pitch black outside when I got up for work, well before Olivia and the kids were up and rolling, so I did my best to be quiet on my way out, so I wouldn’t wake them. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Cyrus was there opening the diner. He saw that I was about to leave and motioned me over to him.

  “Cup of coffee before you head out?” he offered.

  “Yeah, I could use a cup or two,” I answered as I followed him inside. I waited for him to turn on all the lights before I went to sit behind the counter.

  After a few minutes of stirring around in the kitchen, he came out front and started up the coffeemaker. When it was all set, he asked, “How’s it going down at the garage?”

  “We’re making some progress. Hope to have things wrapped up in a few weeks.”

  “Good to hear. I’ll be sure to let Gus know,” he told me as he poured us both a cup of coffee and placed it on the counter. “And how are things going with Hazel?”

  And there it was: the real reason he’d wanted to talk. I knew he’d been looking out for her and there was no doubt that he’d seen us talking and wondered what the hell was going on with us.

  “I’d say things are going good with Hazel. Very good, in fact.”

  “You know … she’s a good one. She’s a hard worker and she’s great with those kids.”

  “I’m well aware of that. More than you know.”

  “So she means something to you?”

  “Absolutely,” I assured him as I took a drink of my coffee.

  “I was hoping you’d say that. She’s been different since you’ve been around. She’s happy. I’d like to see her stay that way.”

  “You and me both. I don’t know anyone who deserves it more than she does. I plan to do whatever it takes to keep a smile on her face.”

  “I had a good feeling about you. Turns out I was right. I like it when I’m right,” he chuckled. “I’ve been doing what I can to keep an eye on her and those kids. The club has them covered. I know something’s up with her, but haven’t been able to find out anything. She tell you?”

  “I appreciate that, brother. She told me that someone killed her parents a few months ago. She’s worried whoever did it decided to come after the kids,” I explained.

  “What do you think?”

  “Hard to tell just yet. I’ve got my guy looking into it, but either way, I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Let me know what you find out. And if you need anything, just say the word.”

  “Thanks, Cyrus. I better get moving. You’ll be getting busy soon.”

  “Don’t I know it. But busy means money, so I can’t complain. Have a good one, brother.”

  “Will do,” I told him as I drank the last of my coffee and headed towards the back door. It was a relief to know the club had her back, and I was glad we were on the same page with keeping her and the kids safe. When I stepped outside, something caught my eye by the dumpsters. It looked like a person curled up on their side, and when I stepped closer, I quickly realized that it was Olivia’s friend, the homeless guy she’s been keeping tabs on. I knelt down beside him and discovered that he was covered in blood and bruises.

  I reached out and touched him on the shoulder. “Hey … you okay?”

  “Just need to … sit here a … minute,” he stammered. He didn’t open his eyes. I’m not even sure that he could with all the swelling. Also, his voice was strained, making it clear that he was in a lot of pain. His left eye was completely swollen shut and his knuckles were bleeding on both hands. From the look of his wounds, they must’ve wailed on him with a tire iron, but he’d done his best to put up a fight.

  “You’re pretty banged up, man. I need to get you to a hospital.”

  He winced as he shook his head and moaned, “No … no hospital.”

  When I noticed the blood oozing from his gut, I told him, “You need to get checked out. You’re bleeding.”

  “Already know that. No hospital,” he growled.

  “Okay, then I’m going inside to get some help,” I told him as I stood up. I rushed inside and called out, “Cyrus! Need you, brother.”

  “Coming!” he shouted. Seconds later he came barreling out of the kitchen and followed me outside. “What is it?”

  “That guy Hazel has been helping out, he’s been beat up pretty bad. Probably needs to see a doctor or something, but he isn’t budging.”

  “Sam can be a stubborn old fool,” Cyrus grumbled. When he got over to the dumpster, he looked down at the broken man in front of him and mumbled several curses under his breath. Finally, he bent down and said, “Sam, you alright?”

  His breathing was strained as he said, “Been better. Sorry for causing … you trouble.”

  Cyrus lifted Sam’s shirt and gasped when he saw the knife wound that covered his chest. “Fuck, Sam. Who did this to you?”

  “Group of damn kids … hit me from behind,” he muttered.

  Getting frustrated, Cyrus snapped, “Don’t even try that bullshit, Sam. I’ve seen what you can do. You and I both know there’s no way a group of damn kids could have taken you, unless you let them. You’re lucky they didn’t kill you. Hell, they may have already gotten you halfway into the grave.”

  “Gonna be … fine,” he moaned.

  Sam was looking worse by the minute. He was struggling to talk and his breathing was getting shallow. Worried that we might lose him, I warned, “We’ve gotta get him to the doctor, Cyrus. He’s gonna bleed out if we don’t.”

  “Let me tell Louise what’s going on and get the keys to the truck. He won’t go to the damn hospital, so we’ll carry him over to the clubhouse and let Mack have a look at him. He can stitch him up and get him back on his feet,” Cyrus explained. He looked over to Sam and said, “Not that you have a choice, but are you gonna be alright with that?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  Once Cyrus returned with the keys to his truck, it took both of us to load Sam in the back seat of his extended cab pickup. For his size, he weighed more than either of us thought, but we managed to get him into the truck without causing him too much pain. Before we pulled out of the lot, Cyrus turned to me and asked, “You planning to give Hazel a heads-up about this? You know she’s got a soft spot for him.”

  Sam groaned from the back of the truck and said, “No. Don’t. She will … worry.”

  “Yeah. He’s right. Don’t want to worry her just yet. Let’s get him fixed up and then we’ll go from there.”

  He nodded, then drove on to the clubhouse. Cyrus called ahead to let Mack know we were on the way so he’d have time to prepare. When we pulled through the gate, it was still early, so not many of the brothers were around. By the time he’d parked the truck, there was a man in his early thirties waiting for us at the front door. The guy looked like he’d just crawled out of bed with his wrinkled t-shirt and baggy jeans, but that didn’t stop him from rushing over to the truck to help us.

  “Need a hand?” he asked.

  Cyrus opened the truck door and started reaching for Sam as he said, “I think we got it, Mack.”

  I helped Cyrus get him out of the back seat and then followed him to the back of the clubhouse to the infirmary. He’d already gotten everything set up, and when we walked in, Mack pointed over to the gurney and said, “Just lay him there.”

  As I looked around, I noticed the room was similar to ours back home: two gurneys in the back, and L-shaped cabinets along the wall filled with gauze, medicine, and medical tools. It wasn’t much different than any other doctor’s office except for the lack of medical degree hanging on the wall. Sam looked up at him and said, “You’re just a kid.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.” Mack smiled. “I’m going to need to take off your shirt and check your wounds.” Sam nodded and did his best to prop himself up long enough for us to get off his jacket and blood-soaked clothes. Once he laid back down, Mack winced when he saw the long, jagged cut that crossed Sam’s chest. “Damn, man. They got you good.” He leaned in
closer and pressed his fingers against the cut as he said, “Fortunately, it’s just a deep graze. Doesn’t look like they got deep enough to hit any major arteries or organs, but you’re gonna need stitches. A lot of them.”

  “What do you need us to do?” I asked.

  “We need to get him cleaned up before I work on him,” Mack explained. “There’s betadine and gauze in the cabinet behind you.”

  For someone who’d been living on the streets, he was much cleaner than I’d anticipated. Even though he was in a bad spot, he’d obviously tried his best to take care of himself. Once I found the betadine and gauze, I handed them over to Mack. It took him a while to disinfect the wound, but then he was ready to get to work. He looked down at Sam and, with concern in his voice, said, “Sam, I’m going to give you something for the pain. Couple of shots to numb you before I start stitching you up.” Sam nodded and then Mack looked over at us. “It’s going to be a while. Breakfast should be about ready if you want to go grab something to eat.”

  “Breakfast sounds good, but hurry this shit up, brother. I gotta get back to work before Louise blows a fucking gasket.”

  “On it,” Mack answered as he started giving Sam his first shot.

  I followed Cyrus down the hall. When we walked into the kitchen, three of their girls were busy making a huge breakfast. They were young, early twenties—if that, and even though it was only six-thirty in the morning, they were already dressed to the nines. Just like our girls back home, they never missed an opportunity to catch the wandering eye of one of the brothers. Unfortunately, at that moment, none of the brothers even seemed to notice; they were sitting down at the table talking back and forth to one another as they waited to be served their breakfast. The last thing they seemed to notice were the girls in their ten-inch heels.

  When we approached the table, one of the older guys looked up at Cyrus and said, “What are you still doing here? Louise is gonna have your ass, brother.”

  “Don’t you know it, but she’ll just have to get over it. I had something come up,” he groaned. “Shouldn’t be too bad. Little Dan is there. I reckon they’ll make do for another hour or so.” Cyrus motioned his hand over to me and said, “Y’all met Clutch yet?”

  “You the kid from the Washington chapter that they got helping out in the garage?” one of the men asked. The grimace on his face reminded me of Cotton, especially with his salt and pepper hair and goatee. They looked a bit similar, but he was wider than Cotton and maybe a little older.

  “Yeah. That’s me,” I replied as I took a seat at the table next to Cyrus.

  “That’s Murph, our Sergeant of Arms. The handsome, bald fellow to your left is T-Bone, and the little guy at the end of the table is our enforcer, Runt.” Cyrus chuckled. Runt was at least six-eight and weighed about three hundred and sixty pounds without an ounce of fat anywhere on him. Anyone could see that he was a force to be reckoned with.

  I nodded and said, “Good to meet ya.”

  “You Road Captain?” T-bone asked with his slick head shining under the bright lights.

  “I am.”

  His eyebrows furrowed as he studied me. “I figured you’d be older.”

  “Is that right?”

  Just like Gus, the minute he saw me, I could see that he was trying to figure me out. It was no secret that I was younger than most Road Captains, but I’d earned my way—Dub made sure of that—so I didn’t feel the least bit slighted when he questioned me. I chose to just let it go and watch quietly as the girls placed the food on the table. Once they were done, I followed the others’ lead and started to make myself a plate of eggs and bacon. When I was done, I said, “Looks good.”

  I felt a hand drape around my shoulder as a female voice purred, “Glad you like it, handsome. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  I glanced over to her, seeing the look of lust in her eyes, and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Runt leaned forward and asked, “You making any progress in that damn garage?”

  “Yeah. We’re getting there. I’d hoped to be a little further along by now, but we’ll get it done. Should have everything on track in a few weeks.”

  “Blaze has had a time of it since Duggar’s been out of commission, but he’s only got a few more days ‘til he’ll be released back to work,” Cyrus explained.

  We continued to talk about the garage. I had to dodge a few questions about the new pipeline, figuring Gus would give them the information when he was good and ready. Just as we were finishing up our breakfast, Mack came into the kitchen looking for us. He walked over to us and said, “I’ve got him all stitched up, but he needs to get some rest and something decent to eat. I think he should stay here for a day or so until we get him back on his feet.”

  “I’ll run it by Gus, make sure he’s okay with it,” Cyrus told him.

  “Already did,” Mack replied. “He can stay in the back until his vision has cleared and he can get around a little better. Figured I’d get one of the girls to save him a plate of breakfast for when he wakes up.”

  “Thanks, brother. I appreciate that,” I told him. “I’ll be back later to check on him. Just let me know if you need anything.”

  “I got him.” Mack smiled. “He’s a good man. Hate to see that he’s fallen on hard times.”

  “The real pisser of it is, it doesn’t have to be this way for him,” Cyrus clipped. “He’s living on the streets because he chooses to. I don’t understand it. I’ve tried talking to him, but he’s just too damn thick-skulled to listen to anyone.”

  “Why would he choose to live on the streets?”

  “He’s not one to talk about it, but he was married to a woman named Clara. He met her when he’d come home from deployment. From what he’s said, they had it good. He loved her. Tried to give her everything down to the white picket fence. They had a daughter named Faith. She’s a good kid. She was just fifteen when everything went to hell. Sam was deployed when Clara died. When he finally made it back home, he wouldn’t step foot in their house or have anything to do with his family. Faith moved in with her grandmother, but she never gave up on him. Tried everything she could to get him some help … counseling and doctors, but he refused treatment every damn time. Been like that for years.”

  I looked at Cyrus. “That’s rough, man. Wish there was something more we could do.”

  “You can’t help those who aren’t willing to help themselves, brother, but we’ll do what we can,” he grunted back. “Maybe he’ll come around and decide he has something worth living for. For now, let’s just get him back on his feet.”

  Cyrus took me back to the diner to get my bike, and while I was there, I decided to check in on Olivia. When I walked in, she was standing at the counter taking an order from an elderly lady and her husband. Her eyes lit up and her lips curved into a sexy smile when she saw me walking towards her. The closer I got, the wider her smile became, making me want to pull her close. When I finally got to her, I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Hey there, Sunshine.”

  “Hey.” She blushed—and that’s when I knew. I took a step back, studying her expression just to be sure, and then I couldn’t stop myself from grinning like the Cheshire cat. She immediately cocked her head to the side and asked, “What?”

  “You feeling better?” I teased.

  “What do you mean?” she asked defensively. When it finally dawned on her that I really did know what she’d been up to, she brought her hand up to her face and tried to cover her embarrassed smile. Just seeing her eyes dance with mischief had my dick raging against the zipper of my jeans.

  “From the looks of that smile, you enjoyed it,” I chuckled. “Satisfaction looks good on you, babe.”

  She started walking away and when she got several steps in front of me, she looked back over her shoulder as she snapped, “We are not going to talk about this now or ever!”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled as I followed her towards the back of the diner. She was walking so fast that her long,
brown hair whirled around her when she turned the corner. I reached out for her, pulling her over to me as I laughed. “Where you going, Sunshine?”

  Her face turned beet red as she fussed, “Clutch! Seriously. I’m working.”

  “I’m sure your customers are glad to see their old Hazel is back … free of all that pent-up sexual frustration,” I heckled.

  Then she surprised me.

  With a lustful look in her eyes, she turned to face me. She took a step towards me, closing the distance between us, as she placed her hand on my shoulder and lifted up on her toes. She leaned into me, pressing her breasts against my chest as she brought her lips closer to my ear and seductively whispered, “I wouldn’t say I was free of all my frustration. Not even close.” She brushed the hair from my eyes and said, “I’ve gotta get back to work, Shaggy.”

  She placed a gentle kiss on my cheek and sauntered back over to her table, intentionally swaying her hips much more provocatively than usual. Fuck. With just one look, she had me spinning. I left the diner in a complete daze, and for the life of me, I couldn’t get that look on her face out of my head. Just the thought of her using that fucking vibrator had me coming apart at the seams, and I spent the entire damn day at the garage fighting a fucking hard-on. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  When we were finally done for the day, I headed straight home, and once I was there, I didn’t waste any time getting into the shower. I’d hoped the cold water would take the edge off, but every time I closed my eyes, I pictured Olivia with that heated look in her eyes, reaching for that little pink vibrator. When I thought about her slipping it deep inside her and rubbing it against her G-spot, I couldn’t take it any longer. I turned the water to hot and took my throbbing dick in my hand, gripping my fingers tightly around my pulsing shaft. I needed to feel the bite as I started to move my hand up and down my thick cock. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was bombarded with visions of Olivia’s smooth, bare skin … her hand trailing across her perfect, round breast, reaching for her erect nipple, twisting it gently between the tips of her fingers. My breath quickened as I imagined her writhing against the soft cotton sheets with her little whimpers and moans echoing through the room. With each vision, my hand moved faster, gripped tighter and every stroke had me closer to the edge. My dick pulsed in my hand when I imagined the expression on her face as she pressed the small, pink vibrator against her clit, feeling the intensity of her orgasm surging through her body. The erotic blush of skin. Her thighs clenching. Her toes curling. Fuck. That’s all it took. My breath caught, and I came long and hard. Moments later, I stepped out of the shower with my dick still standing at full salute, taunting me with the knowledge that, unlike Olivia, my sexual frustration had only just begun.