Devil Seeker

by Clare Power

  I make a mental note to check into this as she continues to tell me about other things that have been stressing her out like starting her business and how things work differently here than they do in England. I’m not good at this sort of shit, talking so comfortably with a woman like she’s doing with me, but I find myself genuinely wanting to hear everything she has to say and try to ease her mind by telling her we can’t do much about it tonight, but we’ll look into things tomorrow. That shit gets me a huge smile as she sits on my bed and starts to relax. I leave her to take a piss and when I walk back in she’s laying there, out cold.

  Fuck. Oh well, I suppose I got part of what I wanted―her in my bed tonight.

  Chapter 6

  Breakfast at Backfire’s

  Kat

  These aren’t my sheets, and these aren’t my pillows. This isn’t my bed.

  Ok, don’t panic. THINK!

  I open one eye and can’t see anyone so I brave it and begin checking for clothes. I’m good. Now that I’ve established I’m decent, I turn over to look around and there is no one there. I suppose you could say that was anticlimactic.

  Backfire’s room at the club is a bedroom with an attached bathroom. It’s big enough that he can have a small beer fridge and a microwave in one corner and a TV with a shelf of DVD’s in another. The bookcase has books on motorcycle engineering, which I would expect, but English, early medieval art history is a bit of a surprise. They’re not just quick reads, but serious, in-depth books. I know this because I own them myself. The rest of the wall space has cupboards and a wardrobe. The room is definitely a man’s space.

  The bathroom door opens and Backfire emerges, luckily with his jeans on, even if they aren’t buttoned at the top. The man makes my mouth water. I feel like an idiot as I lie here staring at his well-toned, very tanned chest, but what is even better is the hint of that most interesting V at his hips that could drive any woman mad with lust. He has the perfect amount of body hair with a small trail of it going down below his unbuttoned jeans, along with some very interesting tattoos that I’d love to explore on his chest and back. I’m in lust and I’m not ashamed.

  “Morning,” I greet him, going for cool.

  “Afternoon,” he says with a smirk. “There’s clean towels in the bathroom and here’s some clean clothes for you.” I open the plastic bag containing a brand new shirt, a Support your Local Cycle Devils tank. The grin on the man’s face as he also gives me a pair of knickers with the same Cycle Devils logo has to be seen to be believed. We both get a good chuckle out of the look I give him, but hey, they’re clean and new.

  “I won’t be long,” I say, retreating in good order. I’m liking this man more and more. I’m glad he didn’t try to kiss me in front of everyone last night. I wouldn’t have said no, but I’m not really much for public displays of affection, beyond I think, grinning to myself, being held by him. I take the quickest shower in my life, using his shower gel. I’m not bothered with my hair as I can do that tonight, but the rest of me feels grungy.

  I dress quickly and I’m more than slightly amused that the clothes he has given me are the right size. The man knows women. I wonder how good a sign this is.

  “Thanks for talking and listening to me last night. I guess I haven’t been sleeping well with all the Police and business worries. It must have really helped to just say it out loud because I slept so well, but now I‘ve got to get going soon because I have jobs to do.” I say as I prepare to make my way back to my bike.

  “Stay a few and at least have breakfast,” he practically orders, “I want you to talk to one of my brothers.”

  I look straight at him, knowing that this is him trying to help me, so I nod as he grins. He gets to keep me for a little bit longer.

  Backfire

  This girl is challenging me and I find I’m fuckin’ enjoying it. She’s not clingy and she’s independent as fuck. I’m not used to dealing with bitches who have a life and mind of their own and I like this shit. Never thought I’d be bitching one day about getting laid and getting the hell out, then not getting my dick wet but still wanting to hang out the next.

  I lead her out through the clubhouse to the dining room where the old ladies have put out a spread for breakfast. The club has an industrial kitchen with all these special pots that keep food warm. It’s pretty fuckin’ cool in my opinion.

  We sort out breakfast for ourselves and I lead her over to the table Trash is sitting at. He gestures for us to join him, looking a little too hard and closely at Kat for my liking.

  What the fuck? When did my brothers checkin’ out a chick I’m with start to bother me? “This is Kat. She’s having cop problems and she’s worried about the impact it’s gonna have on her business proposal. Think you can help her out?” I say as we sit down.

  “What sort of Police problems?” Trash asks.

  “The sort that bring them to my door four times in a week for noise issues that vary from starting up my bike to my music,” Kat replies quietly, not looking directly at him. I like that she only seems to challenge me. I suppose that’s good ‘cause I wouldn’t want to think that she’d flirt with my brothers.

  “Are you thinking of running your business from home?” Trash frowns.

  “Not exactly. Because of the recent economic difficulties, they have rezoned an area around the corner from my home into a commercial light industrial area. I want to have my paint shop there and maybe do some of the paperwork from home,” she says, this time looking fully at him, but not in the way she looks at me.

  “Have you made any sort of application yet?” he says between bites of sausage.

  “More of an enquiry than an application,” she says between sips of coffee.

  “When?”

  “The week before last, so the chances are that it could be linked,” she replies.

  “I’ll look into it for you. Where will you be? If you give me your number…”

  I am not fuckin’ having that shit so I cut in, “I’m taking her home after breakfast so I’ll know where she lives.”

  I feel I’ve made my point when Kat starts to choke on her eggs at my statement. I can’t resist my smile.

  Kat

  When he takes me to the dining room, it’s clean, even after last night’s party. The floors have been mopped and the tables wiped down. There are cupboards around the edges and a really smart industrial kitchen is visible through the door.

  After I pick out my breakfast from the warming pots, Backfire leads me to a table where one of his brothers sit. His name is Trash, and he looks more like an executive than a biker with his short blond hair and clean-shaven face. He doesn’t look soft, nor does he have a heavily muscled body, and his hands don’t have a rough, calloused look to them. His nails are clean and evenly trimmed.

  Backfire and I tell him the basis of my problems and Trash says he will look into it. As I’m choking over the fact that Backfire will be following me home, Trash grins and says he’s a lawyer. I’m so shocked that if I wasn’t already choking, I sure as hell would be now.

  After breakfast, we get ready to ride. As we go to get on our bikes, Shades pops his head up and says that he’d like to come along for the ride if we didn’t mind. Somehow this makes me feel better because in truth, I’m not ready to be alone in my house with Backfire. I know I’m going to cave and it will be very, very soon. I just don’t want it to be today so thank fuck for Shades and his intrusiveness.

  Chapter 7

  Sunday at Kat’s Home

  Backfire

  What the fuck?

  Whoever the fuck is messing with Kat’s head is about to learn that she is not alone. As we pull up into her driveway, we see that someone has written the word “WHORE” across her garage door with spray paint.

  I look at my girl as she tries to take this all in. Fuck, where did that thought come from? When did she become my girl and not another bitch in a long line of bitches who have been in my bed? She doesn’t even fuckin’ know that she’s
the first woman in my forty years to wake up in my bed and we haven’t even had sex… Yet.

  I go to her and pull her into my arms. I feel her trembling, yet she doesn’t say a word; she just holds it all in. Fuckin’ good girl. I’ll take care of her.

  Kat

  Fuck, Fuck, FUCK.

  This shit cannot be happening to me.

  Who the hell would do this? I don’t even know or bother anyone, so why would someone target me by spray painting whore on my garage door? I don’t understand, but what I do know is that I need to keep a level head because I have three large, extremely angry men who look like they are ready to tear the neighbourhood apart on my behalf. I just need to stay cool and hope that they follow my lead.

  The guys are off their bikes, helmets and jackets strewn out on the drive when, to add to my day, joy of joys, the Police arrive. Backfire and Trash come to my side while Backfire puts his arm around me and Trash greets the officers.

  The Police are here for yet another noise complaint. I suppose four Harleys do make a bit of noise, but it’s not exactly first thing in the morning and people would have only heard us long enough to get to the driveway, which would be less than a minute at most. I have every right to ride my motorcycle and have friends who come to my home do the same.

  Trash points out the paint job to the officers which is obviously hard to miss. That is an actual issue and one that can’t be ignored with two Police officers present. He also points out that five visits in seven days is excessive, especially since not one visit has been justified.

  Trash mentions words like victimisation and harassment, getting their attention.

  When the Police have gone, I turn to the guys and ask them in for coffee. I think the whole not drinking and driving belief from England is so ingrained in me that the thought of alcohol and riding doesn’t occur to me. It’s just the way I am.

  The guys follow me in and I put the machine on as they look around.

  Backfire asks “You got any garage paint?” I nearly cry at the thought of why he’s asking for it but I hold it in and show him the garage. He stomps outside with Shades, which leaves me alone with Trash. In a way, I’m a bit surprised that Backfire left me with another man with the way he has been behaving.

  “Don’t be surprised,” Trash grins reading my thoughts, “He’s leaving us to take care of your business. Looks like he thinks your business is his business now.”

  There is no way I can discuss what’s happening between Backfire and myself with anyone else, especially since I’m not sure what exactly is happening, so I shrug my shoulders and say, “Maybe,” and go and sort the coffee out.

  “Can I have a copy of the enquiry you sent off,” Trash asks, “or better yet, can I look at any and all correspondence regarding the business so far?” Smiling, I get everything for him. I can’t believe I am getting on this well with a lawyer.

  “Will you officially work for me? I could really use all the help you could give me on all of this; the Police, the paint shop, especially as I’m not one hundred percent sure of all the intricacies of Florida law.”

  Trash smiles, “Of course.”

  “How does payment work here?”

  His expression turns blank and he says, “It’s best that we include Backfire in this.”

  “I met Backfire a week ago for all of a few minutes and I have only hung out with him for a day,” I explain to him, “I can’t be sure how long whatever this is will last, or even what either one of us expect to happen.”

  Trash looks me straight in the eyes and says, “I’ve never seen Backfire treat a woman the way he has you. Don’t rush to distance yourself from him.”

  “I’m not distancing myself. I just moved here a few months ago and I’m just working things out as I go along. I am perfectly comfortable speaking to you about my business with or without him if that’s OK with you. I’m the outsider, so I’ll follow your lead.”

  Trash nods his understanding. I don’t want there to be any miscommunication as to who he will be working for.

  Backfire

  When the painting is done, we go back in to a scene of relative peace. Trash is looking through papers as Kat is working in the kitchen with the coffee machine, offering us coffee or pop.

  “Have you got any beer, babe?” Shades looks at Kat while I practically growl.

  “I don’t have any in the house. I don’t like it all that much, at least not enough to drink it at home. The only person who comes around regularly is my friend Amber, and she doesn’t drink either.”

  “What do you like?”

  “Sweet cider,” she smiles, “and not the hot fruit shite drink they call cider here sometimes.”

  It turns me on when she swears ‘cause it seems like it’s a rare thing with her, but it shows she has a wild side that I’m just aching to see more of. Fuckin’ hell, bitch will have me going around in circles soon.

  “I’m going back to the clubhouse now,” Trash says as he gets his things together, ready to leave and Shades gets up to go with him. As Trash takes Kat’s contact details with him, I give him a look, and all he does is smirk.

  Asshole.

  At least he’s using his trash talking ways to help her. If ever a brother was well named, it’s him.

  I decide to stay a while longer with Kat. It says something when I don’t even mind, knowing that she doesn’t have any beer.

  “So, Backfire. What do you want to do now?” she asks.

  I can’t resist the huge smile that breaks out across my face, “Lady’s choice.”

  Kat

  “Lady’s choice, eh? Well I don’t fancy doing the housework that I should be doing, but I feel like a bit of an escape – like a ride to the beach – but to be honest, I think I should stay in and chill out. I wouldn’t want anyone to think that their spite has pushed me out of my own house.”

  “Stay in,” he says, “We’ll face the assholes together.”

  “Well if you’re staying, would you like the tour?”

  He nods as I get up and lead him toward the hall. I give him the grand tour, even the bathrooms, and when I show him the last room, the craft room, I can’t help but smile as he takes it in.

  “What are you going to do with all this?”

  “Some of it will end up in the house. Some of it I’ll make into pressies and most of it I will sell at craft markets. It gives me something to do and I enjoy it immensely,” I reply.

  He nods thoughtfully. He then begins to take more notice of the art on the wall, the trophies in the cabinets, and mostly the tanks I have kept for myself.

  “And these?” he gestures.

  “Those are tanks I’ve won awards for. When I set up my business, I plan to put them in cases in the reception area with all the awards. Well, that’s what my plans are once this whole mess is figured out.”

  “Don’t worry, Kat. We’ll find out what the hell is going on and make shit right,” I hope it’s sooner, rather than later.

  Backfire

  Kat is talented; I’ll definitely give her that. I’m really impressed with her work and I can’t stop myself from wanting to know more about her. She seems smart and has her shit together. She’s independent and knows how to take care of herself which is sexy as hell to me, but yet she can go along with things in a way that fits in with the club, even if she doesn’t realize that she does so. She’s not just some bitch, she’s a rare fuckin’ find in my world and I’m wanting to stick around and see what could come of this.

  As I look around her house, I like what I see. It’s not just some meaningless place with a roof over her head; she’s made a home for herself that is comfortable and seems to reflect her style. Hell, even I want to come in and take my shoes off, making myself at home. Whatever the fuck it is that she’s done, I like it.

  We finally get to her bedroom, which has loads of red and gold stuff all over the place, but somehow it doesn’t look like cheap or flamboyant. Red seems to be a running theme throughout her home, but there a
re golds and browns as well―earth colors I guess you would say. This room is what I would consider over the top red, but for some reason it suits her and I can see her here, in this room. It’s like she’s made a sanctuary; a place just for her.

  “You’ve outdone yourself here. I’m not a bitch, but even I have to admit you’ve made a nice space for yourself.”

  “I’m glad you think so. Moving from England to the US alone, I wanted to have a home that feels like home, if that makes sense.”

  “I get it, Kat. It all suits you from what I’ve seen of you so far.” I decide it’s time to get some things out of the way so I start the conversation, “Yesterday, you wanted to leave as soon as you came to the club, but you stayed, even though you had your doubts. What do you think now?” I ask, getting straight to the point.

  “The last sort of man I want is a member of an MC, you know that. I’m not looking for something and someone who expects to keep me under some type of lock and key. I live the way I want to live and I have a very big problem with anyone thinking they have a right to tell me I have to do otherwise. Saying that, just from what I’ve seen up to this point, I like you and your club. I enjoyed myself last night and I’m glad you guys were here to help me today, even though my problems are not yours. So, to answer your question, the only thing I know at this moment is that I want you. What it all means in the long run is sort of beyond me at this point. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but today – right now – I want you.”

  “I want you too, Kat. I want you real fuckin’ bad,” I say, looking her straight in the eyes.