Satan's Devils MC Colorado Boxset 1 Books 1 - 3

by Manda Mellett

He’s asked me out straight, no dancing around the subject. I scratch my head, debating whether to tell him the story Drummer and I concocted that conveniently skirts around the truth. I eye him for a moment, trying to get his measure. As he stares back confidently, I decide to be just as up front in return. “Don’t want to blow smoke up your ass, Demon. The answer’s as fuckin’ plain as the nose on your face. You’ve got a hole in your ranks.”

  “Drummer thinks I’m leaving myself exposed.” Sitting back in his chair, he folds his arms across his chest.

  “That’s about the way of it.” I lean forward. “You take a slide on your bike? Get caught up in something with the cops? Who’s going to step up and lead?”

  “Thunder knows what has to be done.”

  “Then you’re short of someone looking out for the safety of the club. Whichever way you look at it, Prez, you’re fucked. What’s Hellfire’s position?”

  Demon presses his lips together. “Hellfire has stepped down. He carried this shit too long to want to take the gavel back. Yeah, in an emergency he’d be there to lean on, but his time’s come and gone.” As I go to speak he holds his hands up. “Not my choice, not the way I wanted it, but it’s water under the bridge now.”

  “Hell must have been around your age when he got top spot.”

  “He was.” Dark eyes flare. “Ain’t gonna fuck this up, Beef. You can report that back.”

  “Let’s have no misunderstanding. I know you’re not going to fuck up. Drummer’s point is you need a second to help you out and have your back. Without one, you’re exposed and that’s a weakness we can’t have. I know he’s not happy wearing the patch, but is Thunder pulling his weight?”

  “No misunderstanding, you say? Okay, let’s show all our cards. No, he’s not. Oh, he sits in the right seat, but he’s constantly reminding me how much he doesn’t like it. He’s scared shitless of me taking that slide as you put it.”

  “So, what are the options?”

  Demon seems to have calmed. He presses his fingers against his temples, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “No brother here wants it. Thunder’s shown it doesn’t work if a man is forced into the role.”

  “Got anyone in mind if it’s a bit of persuasion they need?”

  “To be honest, no. No one’s ready.”

  “Then that means looking at other chapters. Want me to ask around?”

  Demon scoffs, “If someone has a good man, you think they’d want to lose them?”

  I breathe in, then let out a sigh. “You’re acting defeated before we start. Could be a man wanting a change of scenery. Someone with a personal reason for wanting to get away. Until you ask, can’t know what’s possible.”

  I’ve caught his interest.

  “I’ll put out some feelers. I’m not some kid fresh off the block, Demon. Got connections I can use. Get information quietly.”

  “I don’t want you to make any formal approach…”

  “Not going to. Just think who could be suitable, then we’ll discuss what to do next.” After speaking, I sit back, and let him digest my proposal.

  After a minute’s passed, he raises his chin. “You talk sense, Brother.”

  “Nah, not so much. Just been doing some thinkin’. Sometimes an outsider is better placed to sort out a problem.”

  “Drummer did right.”

  My brow creases and I shake my head.

  “Sending you here. I wasn’t certain, felt he thought I was a failure.”

  “Nah, he doesn’t think that. You’re not a big chapter, Demon. Ain’t got many to choose from.”

  “I don’t want this discussed at church. Not the reason why Drummer sent you.” He frowns, and I understand his position. He doesn’t want to appear weak.

  It’s my turn to come clean. “Then we’ll go with the other truth. My personal reason for wanting to get away from Tucson. That should sound credible enough.” Having caught his interest, I carry on, “There’s a woman—”

  “There always is,” he interrupts, huffing a laugh.

  I grin quickly, then grow serious. “You know what Tucson’s like. Christ, hear the jokes about something in the water often enough. But yeah, the club has changed. Majority of brothers are no longer single, and most have kids. Wanted me some of that.”

  “Can understand it.” His eyes stray to a photo on the side of the desk. His wife and child. “Nothing better than the right woman in your life.”

  “Yeah, well, the woman I chose, or, who chose me to be honest, turns out she wasn’t the right one. But she had expectations when we got together and won’t believe I can’t meet them. Needed a break to get away. She thinks she can’t function on her own. My absence will show her she can. Or, if she really can’t, she’s got family she can go back to.”

  He stares at me. His eyes grow wide, then narrow again. “You could have just told her to fuck off.”

  Most men probably would have, but that’s not how I’m made. “Would say it like it is to any brother. Even you, Prez. But a bitch? Nah, they need gentler handling. Would it have been better to rip off the band-aid? I think this wound needs to be nurtured better than that.”

  “Drummer know?”

  “Is there anything he doesn’t?” I smile, again shaking my head. “Drum knows me, could see for himself this shit with Sal wasn’t right. Well, kinda gave it away when I lost my temper with Rock. Me coming here filled both our needs. Yeah, if I’d have stayed in Tucson, I’d have cut ties with Sal sooner rather than later, but she’s a woman who needs someone. While we’re keeping up this pretence, she doesn’t have to feel she’s completely alone.”

  “You supporting her?”

  “Don’t need to. She’s got money of her own. Her family’s still paying her an allowance, and she’s got money coming in from her ex.”

  He looks surprised, but it’s clearly not something on the top of his agenda to be bothered about one way or another. He chuckles, then enlightens me, “And now you’ve bumped into someone else who, according to Pyro, is hot.”

  “Not getting involved with another bitch before I’ve extricated myself from the one I’m still, unfortunately, with. Maybe never again. Kind of reminded me why I stayed single for so long.”

  He laughs, but it sounds dutiful. “I was like you. But it turns out I was waiting for my one. Now I’ve found her? Well, have to say, the grass is fuckin’ green and tender this side of the fence.”

  “Glad to hear it, Prez.” But I doubt it’s for me.

  A considering look comes my way, then a grin slowly slides onto his face. “Well, you won’t go wanting. Got five sweet butts here who’d be interested in a new cock.”

  That’s all I’ll be to them. For a moment I do miss having a woman to call my own. Problem is, the girl who I have in mind doesn’t yet have a face, and certainly isn’t called Sally. Which reminds me. I offer an explanation in advance. “Can’t do that just yet, Prez.”

  His eyes sharpen. “You got the clap or something?”

  “Nothing like that,” I say fast. “Fact is, I promised Sally…”

  “Oh man,” he gives a deep belly laugh, “you’re so fucked.”

  He’s right. I am.

  His observation marks the end of our conversation. I leave his office feeling slightly adrift. I don’t know what the members think of me turning up here, nor yet understand the dynamics of the club. In Tucson I wouldn’t have hesitated, knowing what to say to whom, and where each brother’s interests lay. Here, I’m a stranger among strangers.

  It would be easy to gravitate to Pal and spend time updating him on shit going down in Tucson. But mindful I need to get to know the brothers not only to make my life easier, but also as I’m here to make my own assessment of whether one just needs a nudge and encouragement to step up to the VP spot. The job Drummer assigned requires me to mingle and get to know the men as well as I do those back home.

  Glancing around I notice Pyro, Buzz, Skull and Bomber have a card game going on. Seems as good a way as any to while a
way a few hours on a Sunday afternoon.

  I saunter over to their table. “Got space for one more?”

  Bomber gives me an assessing look. “Don’t know you, do we? Might be a fuckin’ card shark for all we know.”

  “Don’t know you either. Could be dealin’ from the back of the pack, old man.”

  “Now that settles it.” He glares. “You ain’t joining in. No way I’m fuckin’ old.”

  Grinning, I note he didn’t refute he could be cheating.

  “You looked in the mirror recently, Bomb?” Skull, the youngest, asks with wide eyes, his head shaking side to side.

  Buzz kicks out a seat, he’s chuckling like everyone else. “Tucson’s money is the same as ours. Don’t mind taking a load off you, Brother.”

  I keep my face impassive as I eye the pile of bills in front of the treasurer. He’ll be the one to watch. I’ve played with Rock for years, lost more than I can count to him, but also have learned a trick or two. It will be interesting to see if any of those can be applied here. Strictly above board, of course. When it comes to my brothers I don’t hold with dishonesty, in any form.

  A couple of hours later I glance at my phone as the current game comes to a close. Bomb starts to deal the cards again, but I hold up my hand, indicating he should leave me out.

  His brows meet. “You’re taking the money and running? Not giving us a chance to win it back? Just starting to get a feel for you, man.”

  Which means it’s a good time to go. Before they recognise my tells.

  It’s Pyro that comes to my rescue. “Yeah, you’re going to take that bitch to see her dog. Or,” he frowns, “feel him I suppose.”

  “Yeah. Picking her up soon.” Just need a piss then I’m ready to go.

  “Say hi from me. Hope the dog’s no worse.”

  Standing I place my hand on his shoulder. “So do I.” My response is heartfelt. The afternoon’s entertainment has cleared Stevie from my mind, but now she, and her problems, return. I hope that dog’s okay. If it’s not? I don’t know what the fuck she’ll do.

  Beside hers, Sally’s problems pale into insignificance. Sure, Sal was upset when she’d been forced to return to her abusive husband, but she’d not had long at his side until he had been exposed for the fraud he was. She’d stayed on the compound, sheltered from all the media attention, then had me by her side when she started to build a life for herself in Tucson. Marcia had helped her get the schools arranged for her kids, I’d got her a car. She was fine driving to the shops by herself, taking the kids to school and all the household chores. While I was out working for the club, she’d get on just fine.

  Except.

  What we should eat, what brand of fucking toilet paper we should use? Which store we should go to? Even what clothes she should wear became a topic. At the start I thought she was just learning my preferences, but it went on and on. Not one decision would she make for herself. I know there are some men with a dominant personality that like a personal slave, but I’m not one of those. I don’t even insist on the dominant role in bed, in fact, I find it sexy when a woman turns the tables on me.

  I became tired. Worn. My head, buzzing with club problems, I wanted to relax when I came home. Not go through a shopping list for a week.

  I hadn’t realised at first, hadn’t diagnosed the problem. Until one night she’d been sitting beside me on the couch, her eyes slowly closing, then she’d jerk back awake, and force a smile onto her face, and ask if there was anything I needed. I’d told her to go to bed. When I’d stated it clearly, she’d got up and done what I said. Yeah. She was actually waiting to be instructed. My head shakes as I remember. Even after I’d explained she didn’t need me to tell her what to do, she’d ask for permission instead.

  If I ever dip my toe in the water again I’d want the woman by my side to be my partner, just like Rock, Mouse, Peg, hell, all the brothers with old ladies have. It had been too exhausting, when all I wanted to do was be me, not the man she wanted.

  That’s why I’m so leery of getting involved again. There’s no way I want to be caught in the same trap.

  I’m not late, but when I pull up outside, the front door’s already opening, and Stevie’s standing at the door. As I approach, my eyes look her up and down. She’s got on tight narrow-leg jeans which hug the curvature of her perfect thighs, boots more suited to winter weather but perfect for going on the bike, and another of her tight tees that shows she’s got more than enough breast for me. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail. She might not have been prepared for yesterday’s ride but has made up for it today. Surprisingly, she looks a biker chick in every way. I’m not complaining, I love the look on her.

  But I have to admonish her. “Shouldn’t open the door, babe. Not before checking who’s come knocking.”

  Shit, how can she do that? She can’t look out.

  “Beef,” she sighs, and points. “Intercom right there. Not one hundred percent if someone really wants to fool me, but I can probably tell more from a voice than most people. And I knew it was going to be you, Beef.”

  “Babe, just because you knew I was coming—”

  “Your bike. The engine is unique. When you shift down into first, there’s a tiny rattle.”

  My mouth drops open. I’ll be fucked. I hadn’t even noticed that myself. Doubt it’s anything to worry about, I’d have heard it if it was serious.

  “Not much gets past you, does it?”

  She grins at the compliment. “I think my brain uses the processing power it used to apply to vision to understand what my other senses are telling me. I see the world, just in a different way than most people.”

  “Do you visualise shit?” I don’t know why I ask her. But when she says see, what does she mean by it?

  “I’ve a memory of what a motorcycle looks like, but no, I don’t bother translating what I hear or touch anymore. To me something is what it sounds like, feels like, smells like.” She leans in and sniffs. “Leather and diesel. Beer and cigarettes. Do you smoke?”

  “Nah, well, the odd joint. But the men in the clubhouse here do.”

  “Here? Not where you came from?”

  I laugh. “Too many kids around.”

  “Lots of changes to get used to.” Her head dips as though she understands. I suppose she does, she’s in a new environment too.

  She’s right, but I don’t comment on it. “You need anything? Or are you ready to go see how Max is?”

  “I can’t wait to see him. Let me just get my purse.” She turns, confidently walks back into her house and within moments comes out with a strap slung over her shoulder. “But I know how he’s doing. I rang James just now. I didn’t want any nasty surprises.”

  I can understand. “How is he?”

  “Holding his own and fighting.”

  Good boy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Max is indeed holding his own, I’m certain I can see an improvement. His eyes look better and more focused, and he licked Stevie’s hand more than once. James wasn’t on duty, but another vet who seemed to be just as competent was there. While Stevie was with her canine friend, I took the vet to one side.

  “Will James be able to operate tomorrow?”

  “In my professional opinion, yes.” He glances at me, then at Stevie. His eyes soften as she gently runs her hands over her dog’s fur. “He’s a service dog. He’s got an important job to do. You can be sure that we will do our best to get him back on his feet. Normally I’d warn this is expensive, but in the circumstances, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have a very good insurance plan. Maybe from the organisation that supplied him.”

  I might have won a few dollars earlier, but the vet’s assumption makes me feel better.

  “I’ll get the details from Ms Nichols before you go. We’ve gone this far on your assurance to pay.”

  “What happens after the op?”

  “Normally he’d be ready to go home that evening, but he will need care.” He lowers his voice. “James and I hav
e been discussing his situation. I take it you’re not Ms Nichols’ partner?” At the shake of my head, he continues, “We’re not convinced that alone she’d be able to care for him as needed. He’ll need to be brought back in for bandage changes, given an assortment of tablets. If it’s easier for her, we’ll keep him here for a few days. How long depends on him really.”

  I agree. While Stevie would be delighted to have her dog home with her, his needs will be challenging. I can’t commit to being there to help out, hell, she might not even want me to offer. We’re little more than acquaintances. The vets’ solution is generous, and under the circumstances, makes sense.

  I’m staring at Stevie, my thoughts whirring. “And after that? As you say, he’s a working dog. How long until he makes a full recovery?”

  “I’ve seen dogs bouncing around as if nothing’s happened after a couple of weeks. But technically, bones will heal in six to twelve weeks. It depends on him, it could be a lot longer before he’s back to his old self. I haven’t got a crystal ball, though I often wish I had. What you want to know is when he’ll be able to wear a harness again and take on his responsibilities, well, I don’t know. But I’d say you’re looking at three months or more. He will be able to go for gentle walks earlier than that. I’m sorry I can’t be more definite, but dogs, like people, are different.”

  “Rod?”

  “Ah, excuse me, will you? Oh, and tell Ms Nichols we need all her details for payment.”

  I nod automatically, then stare again at Stevie. She’s going to be lost without that dog. For the first week or so, she isn’t even going to have him at home.

  She turns, unaware I’m watching her. “He feels so much better, Beef. Yesterday I could barely feel his heart beating, today it feels stronger. They’re going to operate aren’t they?”

  “They are. I trust James, and this guy seems to know what he’s talking about too.” I walk closer and crouch down beside her. “They wouldn’t put him under so soon if there was any risk.”

  “I know. It’s still going to be hard though.”

  “He wants to know the insurance details, Stevie.”