Sanctuary Within the Breed (Lucifer's Breed MC Book 1)

by Ryder Dane

  He dabbed some cream on his pierced nipple, where his cut had rubbed the tip raw after a rain cloud decided to follow them for a fifteen-minute shower. Maybe he should have the soft leather vest lined with something so it wouldn’t rub like that.

  He walked naked into his bedroom, and thought about Ms. Hightits, as she was affectionately called by most of the men at the club. She had been a good lay, and Gunner was right, the woman had skills that a man could appreciate. The problem was, he wasn’t ready to lock down with any woman yet. Not to mention, he wasn’t thrilled with the idea that over half of the club had already enjoyed her charms. He wasn’t going to look for a virgin when he finally invited a woman to be his old lady, but drug addicted and/or alcoholic discarded toys weren’t his idea of what he wanted for the mother of his kid either.

  Him and Gunner hadn’t even decided if they wanted one woman so they could enjoy a good threesome relationship, or if they wanted to peel away from the ménage lifestyle altogether. He figured it would depend on the woman involved. They had been sharing women for years, and it would be tough to change their favorite sexual practice. Neither man wanted to fuck the other, but feeling another man’s cock rubbing along his with only a thin rubbery membrane between them was fucking amazing. Watching Gunner and their chosen bitch for the night going at it was like watching an interactive porno. He loved it. His friend liked to issue instructions while he watched him and the woman. Gunner was a bit on the dominant side.

  Being honest with himself, yeah, he was as dominant as Gunner, and they were both more than a bit sadistic sexually. It had been a few months since they let Caroline leave them. She took whatever they dished out, but they knew she was only there for the pain and sex. When she began to fight with them to get them to beat on her, they refused. That wasn’t ever going to happen. Finding out that she’d started cutting, they were done. She was now one of the whores in Wolfman’s entourage. She got the kind of pain that he and Gunner would not give her. That was the end of that. It was also the last time they’d allowed themselves to enjoy a ménage together.

  Maybe sometime in the future they would find another partner, but for now, they took care of their needs in the more conventional ways. Thinking about sex right now wasn’t a good idea, but he took himself in hand, flipped a porno on the laptop, and took care of business. Melvin went into the kitchen to eat and drink, giving him the privacy he needed.

  Baron slept until ten a.m. That was kind of late for him, but Melvin started wiggling around on the bed and farting near his face. The little bastard wanted him to unlock the dog door so he could go out and take his morning shit. He hurried to the door and opened it for the furball, then headed into the bathroom to deal with his own needs. There was a lot to do today, and he needed to get his ass in gear.

  He called Gunner and they arranged to meet in the club’s office to go over a few things that needed to be brought up tonight at Church. He also had a bag of income that had been dropped off in his absence that needed to be taken care of. He would feel a lot better when that particular chore was taken care of.

  Melvin decided he wanted to go for a ride today, so Baron put the miniature cut the club’s Bitches had made on him and small goggles to keep flying bugs from shooting into his eyes as they drove down the roads. With his studded collar and colors, declaring him one of the group, he looked badassed and Baron told him so before they got on the bike. He could swear the little shit ass smiled as he sat back and planted his paws for balance.

  Chapter Two

  Amy Selters was ready to kill someone. Her little brother, David, was out of control. He had decided last year to try his hand at being a motorcycle bum, and she’d not seen him again until three days ago, when he broke into her apartment and demanded money. He looked nothing like the young man that left her care so many months ago. Now he was scruffy and from the sight of his bloodshot eyes, she would bet he was addicted to drugs too. He was so thin she would have been frightened for him, if he hadn’t attempted to sell her for sex to his friends. He was a motorcycle bum all right, one of the worst cases of a thrown away life that she’d seen. Since she helped at the local soup kitchen, she’d seen plenty of kids just like David.

  She’d refused to give him money, but had fixed him a bowl of soup and two thick sandwiches. She went to the bathroom and came back to see him letting two other men inside of her apartment. One was an older man who wore a full beard and hair to his shoulders. The other was another skinny man with a serious case of acne and the thinnest excuse for a moustache she’d seen. David was yelling at her for refusing to share her money with him. The older man they called Reeker, kept looking at her and finally told David, “Maybe we can work something else out, your sister seems to be the kind of woman that would be worth a hit or two. I’ll give you a rock to keep you happy while I try her out, I know some people who might pay to fuck her, if she’s any good. Hell, Stevie here can help me so we have two opinions.”

  That did it for her, she’d heard enough, seen enough and was done. She walked over to the open balcony sliding doors where David had broken into. She stepped through the ripped screen and started screaming her head off. “Help, someone call the police, help,” and she screamed such a high pitch that she felt her ears pop. Since the balcony faced the pool area, most working people were home at this time of night, several people began running and yelling at her to stay where they could see her. Three of the men who lived there were prison guards in the next county. They were young and fit, they also carried guns when they left the prison for personal protection. She didn’t see them running, darn it.

  When the crowd of people raced up the steps to her apartment, the three men cursed her and ran down the steps through the crowd coming up the stairs. It caused a few to stumble and allowed them to escape. Her purse, with her car keys and bankcard, along with all of her personal information was gone with the men.

  The police were acting as if she’d invited her brother inside, until she showed them the ripped screen door and pried latch, they finally began to take her seriously. Oscar Lime was the officer that talked to her, the tag on his shirt pocket called him the Chief of Police, and she was becoming more alarmed with every word coming out of his mouth. She was happy her social security card wasn’t in her purse, because that and her birth certificate would have yielded the thieves even more money than just her bankcard and wallet with less than fifty dollars in it. They would probably sell the license and the rest of the stuff in her purse. She called and canceled her card, hopefully they hadn’t used it yet. And the police report would help her with gaining new identification. She was advised to move to another location as soon as she could to keep David and his friends from finding her and trying again. In the meantime, she should get better locks and be careful when she was alone.

  Oscar Lime, the Police Chief, was also where she heard about the ‘wanna’ be’ bike gang trying to establish themselves in the area. She was so pissed by the time he finished telling her about David’s defection from the bikers that he was prospecting for, that she wished she had the president of Lucifer’s Breed in her hands, she almost ached to bust him with a baseball bat. She often saw the overgrown juvenile delinquents riding through town like they owned the place.

  It was a shock to her when she found out that several of them did in fact own many of the businesses in town. She walked past Cupid’s Boutique and Classy B’s Beauty Salon every morning on her way to work. She took her elderly 1971 Dodge Swinger that she’d inherited from her paternal grandmother, to a place called Gunner’s. They were the only ones that knew how to fix the old crate, but she felt fortunate that someone knew about older model cars, and where to find parts to fix them.

  Cowboy’s Steakhouse and Grill was the best place in the whole county to get a delicious meal. Even the medical walk-in clinic was owned and run by members of the motorcycle club.

  In the two and a half years she’d been here, she found out just how much the economy of Juanita, Missouri depended
on the MC community. Being a dog groomer didn’t put her into contact with many of the citizens of the area, but people did like to talk and gossip when they picked up their animals. She knew some of the members' wives or live-ins, because they brought their dogs in to be bathed or groomed. Furfur brought her two huge poodle mixed female dogs in every few weeks to get them bathed and groomed. The dogs were the size of Great Danes, and since the standard poodle mother had been the size of a small Shepard, it stood to reason the puppies would be huge too. Myrtle brought Melvin in for his monthly shampoo and manicure, and a smallish woman called Liberty brought in a grumpy Pit Bull named Jerome. The women never mentioned the MC Club, or anything about them. They spoke about the weather, the dogs, or a shoe sale.

  She’d learned more about the people in the town than she wanted to know, but at least she now knew who the gossips were talking about when they couldn’t resist making comments and judgments about others. Until her brother had joined her here, from his stint in Juvenile Detention for being incorrigible and malicious destruction of property just over a year ago, she had thrived and loved the town.

  David was pretty much forced on her when their mother remarried for the fourth time, to a judge in their hometown of Norse, Missouri. Her mother had begged and heaped guilt on her shoulders until she’d consented to take him in. The understanding was that he would stay with her until he found a job and could fend for himself. The last day he’d spent at the apartment, he left a note, emptied out her wallet, and tried to hotwire her car. She called her mother, who was out of the house for the day, and got her new stepfather on the phone. He could tell that she was upset, and they talked for over an hour. He was a decent sort of man, practical and intuitive enough to know that she’d had it with her half-brother.

  His best advice was, change the locks, and let the boy go. “Don’t allow him to make you feel guilty and manipulate you into giving him money or a place to stay. He’s burned his bridges, and frankly, Amelia, I am surprised he lasted as long as he did, before showing his true colors. No one owes him anything, and he needs to understand that. I have met him, and I was not impressed in the least with his cocky attitude and childish actions. The boy also had a drug problem before he went to detention, I don’t imagine your mother told you about that, did she?”

  Amy had to admit she knew next to nothing about David. “I barely knew him before he moved in with me. All I ever heard was that he was headstrong and had some problems at school.”

  “Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t know David’s father was a biker? Don’t get me wrong here, my brother is a Sergeant-at-Arms with a group out of Ohio. He is also one of the lawyers for the club. I have very little connection with him due to my job as a judge, however, I love him and respect his life choices. My point is, we can hope your brother falls in with a group that values intelligence and has rules to follow or consequences to face if those rules are not followed. They might turn him into a man that you can feel respect for. Give it a chance, but refuse to allow him to manipulate you. That is my best advice.”

  She had listened to Thomas’s advice over the past year, and only gave her brother money at Christmas and on his birthday. She bought gift cards at fast food places so he could get a burger and fries if he was hungry. Twice he’d come to her place drunk and demanding money, and now he’d gone as far as she would allow him to go. She would be signing the complaint with the Sheriff’s department in the morning, and they would prosecute him, if what Oscar said was true. Maybe if he was forced to spend time in jail, it would save his life.

  After a restless night’s sleep where she’d dreamt of David in a coffin and David being beaten up, and even of the older man, Reeker, that was a frightening dream. In her dream, he came into her room and twisted her arms behind her while ordering her brother to use his fists on her to get her to tell them the pin number for the bankcard they’d stolen. Thankfully she had woken and the dream faded, but not her determination to give the men in charge of the Lucifer’s Breed a piece of her mind. They were partially responsible for David’s newest lowlife activity, and she planned to tell them so.

  She went to the Sheriff’s department first, to sign whatever papers they needed to prosecute the three men. By eleven o’clock she was waiting at the gate for permission to enter the grounds of the motorcycle club’s sanctuary. The young men at the gate seemed more interested in her car than in her. She didn’t know if she should be flattered or insulted by the way one of the men kept petting the shiny green fender, and saying things like “sweet ride, and classic beauty” as the men talked while they waited.

  The go-ahead must have been given, and they waved her through. She parked the car in front of the cement block building and locked it up before walking to the entrance. She didn’t know what the protocol was for entering a place like this. Was she supposed to knock? Did they have a secret password? Her problem was solved when an older biker, with a black skullcap and chaps, walked past her and held open the door for her to enter the building before him.

  She thanked him and he nodded his head before heading to the door at the back of the room with a picture of a male stick figure taking a leak. She looked around the room and saw a woman behind the bar with a phone to her ear while she laughed hard, so hard she appeared to be choking. Amy headed to the bar.

  She perched on a stool, and waited for the woman to acknowledge her presence. She had no idea she was facing the camera that was hidden behind the stuffed rat collection on the shelf below a picture of old Hollywood’s ‘Rat Pack’ of Sinatra, Martin, Bishop, Davis, and Jones.

  The woman with the phone stuck to her ear was moving toward her, continuing her conversation with the person on the other end of the line. “I don’t give a fuck what you say, I am not cleaning that up again, from now on, you take a shit, clean the bowl, don’t leave it for someone else to have to see.” She got to where Amy sat and rolled her eyes heavenward in impatience. She held up a finger for Amy in a wait a minute gesture, and finished her conversation. “I told you, I’m not your fuckin’ maid, I want your ass out of my place today, pack your shit, and get out. I won’t live like a damn pig, and I am too damn old to start now.” She tapped the phone to hang up the line while a man’s angry voice could be heard in the background.

  “Fuckin’ men, they move in with you and within a week, its do this, clean that, screw that shit. I can buy a fucking vibrating rubber dick to take his place for all the good he does me.” She slapped a napkin down on the bar that looked like a salvaged bowling alley lane. “What can I get you to drink, Amelia Selters?”

  Gunner, Baron, Cash, and Chaucer watched the TV screen on the wall of the office. They wondered what the pretty blonde with the curly hair falling down her shoulders wanted with ‘The Bosses’ of the club. She’d given her name to the Prospects at the gate, and told them who she wanted to talk to, but not about what.

  She didn’t fidget as most visitors to the club did. She perched on the barstool and seemed to be getting on like an old friend with Myrtle. No one got along with Myrtle for more than ten minutes before the cranky bitch eventually found their buttons to push that she exploited for her own amusement. The other female bartender was taking time to dry out, Geraldine was a nice lady with a bad drinking problem. She’d been forced to go into rehab for her alcoholism, or be pushed out of the club. Amelia Selters had already scored points for sticking around for almost half an hour.

  Gunner leaned forward and cocked his head to the side. “I think I’ve seen her somewhere before. I just can’t remember where.” He liked what he saw, and provided she wasn’t some kind of bubble-brained woman here to serve papers on them, he might give her some of his time.

  Melvin woke from his nap and jumped onto Baron’s lap. The dog caught sight of the woman on the screen and began to wiggle and whine. He jumped down and headed for the door, and Cash let him out. “What the hell? That little prick tried to bite me everytime he saw me for the first six months that you brought him in the club. Now lo
ok at him.” They all watched Melvin run as fast as his little legs would carry him toward the newcomer. He sat at the woman’s feet and barked. They watched her jump a little and look down at the dog. Then watched her welcoming smile and the way she greeted Melvin, letting the little guy jump all over her once she got off the barstool.

  Gunner laughed, and Baron quirked his lips. Melvin knew her that was for certain.

  Myrtle and Amy laughed at Melvin’s antics, and Amy showed the older woman what new trick he’d learned three days ago when he came in for his monthly grooming. She held up one hand and then the other, each time she held up her hand, his opposite paw would come up and high five it. “You can’t go really quickly with him doing this, but he seems to like it.” She put him through his routine of tricks and asked Myrtle if she had a treat for him for being such a good boy. Myrtle handed over a short stick of beef jerky the greedy furball snatched from Amy’s fingers and ran off to hide under one of the tables in the room to enjoy.

  Baron watched the woman ruffle the dog’s fur, and all he did was hang his tongue out from the side of his mouth. The first time he’d tried that, Melvin had attempted to take off his fingers. The traitorous little dog was going to hear about this later. He shook his head watching Melvin roll onto his back and drop to his knees, hang his head and collapse in a heap, playing dead. Cash and Chaucer left the room to meet the woman and bring her back to join them.