Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11

by Manda Mellett

  Peg takes the opportunity to settle himself too, bending his leg before straightening it again, obviously relieving an ache.

  “You know,” I tell him as I watch his prosthetic ankle flex, “that looks like a real limb.”

  “They can do amazing things with electronics nowadays. If it wasn’t for the stump, I could imagine I had my leg back.”

  It’s his imagination working that thing, sending nerve impulses to fake muscles that make it act like flesh and blood. Twenty years ago, his prosthesis wasn’t anywhere near so technically advanced. In fact it works better than Truck’s real leg.

  “I knew Allie’s feelings, of course. I didn’t know his. Yeah, it was a risk. But if he rejected her, I was going to help her get away from the club, set her up somewhere. Wasn’t going to abandon someone who’d given us the best years of her life.”

  “Know that, Drum. Would have voted aye on it. You must have been thinking though, she could have gotten hurt.” He pauses and shakes his head. “If you were right and she felt a fraction of what I did when I first met Darcy—let alone how much I feel for her today—she’d have been devastated to be rejected.”

  I know what he means. I fell for Sam hard and my love has only grown over the years.

  “Truck saw her as a sweet butt, Drum. What if he’d never moved on from that? She’d been trying so hard to leave that in her rearview, yet you sent her there knowing he might use her for sex and nothing else.”

  “As things turned out, it might have been the wrong step.” Leaning over, I place my empty glass down. “Might have been better to have sent her away when Marvel made his first complaint. Would have saved a lot of pain.”

  “Nah,” Peg objects. “Wouldn’t have saved her any. Her feelings would still have been there. What you might have done wrong, what we all did, was give her hope.” He too, puts his beer bottle on the floor beside the chairs.

  Would I do the same again, if I could go back in time? I’m a MC prez, I make decisions and don’t have regrets. The older me can only look back and agree with the actions I’d taken, knowing I’d take them again.

  I’d taken a risk, toyed with a sweet butt’s feelings because I wanted a brother back at the club.

  Mentally I shrug. Just one more stain on my blackened soul.

  Chapter Ten

  Truck…

  These last two weeks have been trying. Multiple times it’s been on the tip of my tongue to tell the ocularist not to bother. I’ve attended regular appointments from having the initial wax cast of my eye socket taken to the actual prosthetic being finished, and I’ve been on the verge of backing out numerous times. Why do I want the bother of a fake eye? It won’t replace what I lost.

  Two days ago was the final fitting.

  The ocularist had held up a mirror. My intake of breath had been sharp. I’d taken the mirror from his hand, and held it myself, looking first from a distance, then moving it closer. I felt tears prick behind my eyes as I couldn’t believe what I saw. Unless you look very carefully, I’ve got two eyes. The transformation was remarkable. Doesn’t do anything to hide or minimise the scarring, but I don’t look like such a freak. When I kept watching, I saw a tear roll down the left side of my face. I laughed out loud. Of course, my tear ducts remain, but I never expected to see myself crying out of two eyes again.

  Not that I often cry, but that it appears that I can, seems another positive step.

  After feeling that it was all a waste of time, I suddenly realised this had been the right thing to do. No more patches, no more visual reminders of what I’d lost.

  I’d got into the Uber with a new confidence. Unless they got right up into my face, no one would know I’d lost an eye, and even then, the ocularist had done such a good job, it would fool most.

  At first, my eye was constantly watering as my body needed to adjust to the alien object, but this morning I’d woken up, and as predicted, it seems I no longer treat the prosthetic as if it’s something that shouldn’t be there.

  I’ll have a few more appointments to make sure it’s settling well, then all I need to do is take it out once a month to clean it, and have it professionally cleaned once a year. Most of the time I’ll be able to forget it’s not part of me. This morning, as I had shaved my head, I’d looked into the mirror, turning my head this way and that, admiring the new part of me. Then, I watched myself smile.

  Allie had been right.

  I still look like a monster, but not so much.

  I feel… different. Not normal, I’ll never feel that. But maybe there’s a kernel starting to sprout inside me that wants to do more than simply exist. Problem is, I’ve no idea what I’m capable of doing.

  For now, I just continue going through the motions, my normal daily existence. My boring routine broken mid-afternoon by the doorbell ringing.

  Knowing I’ll be sending anyone who’s come calling away, I walk to it, my hand inching toward the intercom, until I look through the peephole.

  Suddenly, I’m nervous. What’s she going to say? I hesitate for a moment, then shrug. Why should I be worried about the reaction of one of the club girls. Doesn’t matter what they think, if I wanted a fuck, they’d do anything I ask anyway.

  I open the door.

  It’s Allie. But, it’s not.

  I’ve seen her naked, seen her in sexy barely-there clothes. I’ve seen her in jeans and a tee. But never have I seen her wearing a pretty dress. She looks like she’s arrived to be taken out on a date.

  For a moment I’m taken aback, for a second wishing that was the case. But this is Allie, a sweet butt, not the type of woman you have to make any effort to get into her panties.

  I haven’t said anything. Neither has she. She’s staring at my face, and slowly, a huge smile spreads across hers.

  “Truck. You look, great! It worked. You can’t tell it’s fake. Oh my God. What a transformation! It’s amazing.”

  Her pleasure is infectious, I find myself grinning back. “You like it?”

  “I love it!”

  She’s so genuinely pleased for me, I find myself stepping back from the door, my action being an invite for her to come inside.

  Once over the threshold, she turns and looks around the room. Unlike the previous time she was here, the blinds are up, and natural daylight floods the room.

  “You’re feeling a bit better about things, aren’t you, Truck?”

  She’s right. I am. I’m still mourning everything I’ve lost, still wondering about the man I now am, but at least I’m keeping my more dire thoughts at bay.

  As she surveys my domain, I watch her. She’s beautiful, it’s easy to tell why she’s one of the most popular whores in the club. Dressed as she is? She could go anywhere. Suddenly I wonder why she’s here, and all dolled up. Is she on her way to meet someone? Lucky man, if she is. Would she be allowed to have a relationship outside the club? Hmm, not sure Drummer would like that. Perhaps he doesn’t know.

  “Why are you here, Allie?”

  She spins back around, giving me another pointed look as though checking my eye is still there. “I came to see how you were doing, Truck. I never expected…” She waves a hand at my face.

  “I nearly backed out,” I admit. “But I’m glad I didn’t.”

  “Do you want to go out?” she asks, suddenly.

  Of course I don’t. “Allie, no. I don’t want to go anywhere.” My mantra for the past few months.

  “Not to meet people, you’re not ready for that. How about a drive? It’s a nice evening.”

  The thought suddenly comes into my head that it would be a great evening for riding my bike. I don’t even know what’s happened to it now. Still in storage at the club I expect. I’ll have to get around to selling it soon, not that it’s worth much, but the money would be useful. I’ll never be able to ride it again. Some of the pleasure I’d felt when seeing Allie’s reaction to my eye disappears.

  “Nah.” I shake my head.

  But she’s not going to give up. “Oh, com
e on. What else have you got to do?”

  I open my mouth then shut it again. Anything I say would be an excuse. I’ve got nothing planned. What would it hurt?

  Suddenly I’m suspicious. “I’m not going to the club.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Don’t trust me much, do you?”

  Trust her? Suddenly, I realise, I do. “I trust you Allie, just want you to understand. If we go anywhere, I don’t want you to make any detours I’m not ready for.”

  “Well, you drive then.”

  Wait. What? I throw up my hands in exasperation. “I can’t drive, Al. I’m not ready for that.”

  “You can. I’ll be there to warn you if I see something you don’t. You know what the problems are, let’s try and compensate.”

  While I’m scared to get behind the wheel of a car again, having someone with me, someone I already know keeps their eyes on the road and drives competently, might just give me the confidence to try. As my injuries are on the left side, as long as I don’t drive a stick-shift and need to use a clutch, I’d be okay to drive.

  Suddenly I make up my mind. “Okay. But not far. And we’ll take my car.” It’s about time to give it a run.

  But we don’t take mine in the end as the battery is dead from being unused for so long. Allie stands and stares at it. “I’ll get Blade—”

  “No, not giving you an excuse to bring a Satan’s Devil to my home,” I tell her, sharply.

  “I was going to say, to lend me his lithium battery to jump start it with.” She rolls her eyes in frustration. “Trust me, Truck. I’m not going to push you to do more than you’re ready for.”

  “I think we’re going for a drive because you pushed me,” I tell her, wryly.

  Half an hour later, I’m glad that she did. The SUV’s got large wing mirrors which compensates for my lack of peripheral vision on my left side. It’s also got a blind spot warning light, being a newer model. I start thinking about trading in my own car for something equipped with that, and realise I’m beginning to think of tools I could use to help in my life, rather than hiding away and avoiding facing my problems head on.

  We don’t talk, she just lets me take a route I want, up toward Pima Canyon.

  “Hey, Truck. Pull over.”

  There’s a parking spot, I use it. When I get out, I realise why she stopped us. The sun is just setting over the mountains, flooding the area with a golden light. I stand behind her, enjoying the moment, relishing her obvious delight in such an everyday sight, and to my surprise, find I’m sharing it. Simple pleasures, something I haven’t appreciated in a while.

  The light makes her hair gleam. Standing close, I can smell a faint perfume, light, and slightly musky. She’s entranced with the sight in front of her, I’m enjoying the view from behind, my eyes rising from her slender feet encased in gold coloured sandals, rising to her shapely calves, then, having to leave her thighs to my imagination as they are hidden under her dress. A gentle breeze blows, her dress swirls gently, the material framing her ass.

  My cock twitches as I wonder what she’s wearing beneath. Pretty panties, perhaps? A lacy bra? My fingers itch to take her home, explore and find out.

  “Peg wants to talk to you.” She spoils the moment.

  “I don’t want to talk to him. I can’t be a member, Allie. I’m nothing to the club. I’ve accepted it, they have to too.”

  “Peg wants to work with you in the gym.” She ignores me. “Says you need to strengthen your leg, build your muscles back up.”

  “You betrayed my confidence.” My voice snaps. The only way the sergeant-at-arms could know my condition is if she’s been gossiping.

  “They’re worried about you. They asked how you were, I told them is all.”

  Why it’s annoyed me so much, I don’t know. But it has. Angrily I toss the keys at her. She easily plucks them out of the air whereas with my new lack of hand and eye coordination, I’d have dropped them. “Let’s get back. You drive. It’s getting dark and I don’t see so well then.”

  For a moment I’d forgotten. For a moment I’d felt like a man out with his girl. Her reminder of the club made me remember what her role in it is. She’s not a girl you take out, she’s a whore you fuck.

  “Truck…”

  “I want to go home,” I say petulantly, and turning, walk back to the SUV and get into the passenger side.

  I was thinking about seducing a whore for fuck’s sake. She’s probably already been in at least one bed today, or over the pool table.

  Opening the passenger side door, I sit on the seat then pull my body around, cursing again the weakness on my left. If I’m honest it’s not improving since I stopped physical therapy, so Peg’s offer makes sense. But that would mean going to the club, which I’m not prepared to do. Sympathy for my injuries would be one thing, but to hear it confirmed, that I can’t be a member anymore, would really hurt.

  As would seeing men paw over Allie.

  “Truck,” Allie starts as she adjusts the seat.

  “No, Allie. This was a mistake.” She turns up at my apartment looking like the girl next door, the one everyone would be proud to go out with, but her clothes just hide what she is beneath that fancy dress. She’s been with the club such a long time, it’s all she’s ever been and all she will ever be. She’d never be able to be faithful to a man. I’ve seen her at work, and experienced it for myself. This is a woman who loves sex, and lots of it.

  So do I.

  Fuck, I’m a man. I can do who I want.

  I’m not saying I wouldn’t fuck Allie again, I would, and I’d probably enjoy it. She’d make sure I had a good time. Then she’d go off and do one of my brothers.

  “Please, Truck, let me explain something.”

  But whatever she wants to say will go unheard. Fuck it. The club’s pulling out all the stops to get me back there. To see for themselves what a mess I’ve become. I can’t be fixed, this is beyond anyone.

  It dawns on me I’m only putting off the inevitable. I’m hiding away, refusing to open my door, resenting them trying to make contact with me. The easiest way to sort this is to face it head on. Get it over and done with, prepare myself to hear the finality in Drummer’s voice when he acknowledges the truth, I can’t be a Satan’s Devil any longer.

  “Tell Drummer I’ll be there at the next church.” Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Then he can officially cut those brand new patches off the cut he’s keeping safe for me. I can’t ride, so I don’t fulfil that part of the club’s regulations. He can revoke my membership, then they can wash their hands of me and I’ll be left alone.

  No more attempts to get me to the club, no more sending whores to make house visits.

  I’ll go to that driving instructor that Dr Austin recommended, learn techniques to cope when I drive. Then, I’ll be independent, and decide what my future will be.

  She pulls up outside my apartment. “Truck,” she tries once again.

  “This is goodbye, Allie. Don’t come here anymore.” She twists me in knots. I want her. But I don’t want a whore.

  “Please, Truck.”

  “Look, you haven’t failed, Allie. You’ve done what you set out to do. I’ll come to the club. Drummer can see me for himself.”

  “You’ll really come back?”

  No, I won’t. But they’re not going to leave me alone until I show my face. After that, I won’t be a member any longer.

  “I’ll be there, as I said. At the next church.”

  Twenty years in the future – Drummer

  “Never expected you to be next.”

  “Huh?”

  “After Wraith. I’d have laid money on any of the others, or no one at all.”

  When I catch up with his line of thought, I shrug. “Didn’t go looking for it, it just happened. Best thing I’ve ever done was stop when I saw Sam at the side of the road.” Half of me is wondering how he got to that when we’d been talking about Truck and Allie.

  Now he guffaws. “Do you remember Viper’s reaction when
he found out he had an adult daughter?”

  “He wasn’t impressed.” Which is an understatement.

  Peg suddenly doubles over. For a moment I’m concerned, until I see his shoulders shaking with mirth. “That night…” he gasps out. “That night…” then stops again. He makes an effort as my teeth clench, believing I know where he’s going with this. My fears realised when he pulls himself together enough to say, “Outside the clubhouse. We all found out you’d fucked her…”

  Viper hadn’t been discreet, choosing that moment to start caring about the daughter he’d never known he had, and yeah, he’d been right. I had fucked her. Wasn’t my proudest moment, and I had deserved the punch to my jaw. Problem was, he’d been shouting, and everyone had heard.

  Peg starts to sober up. “Bad business with the slave traffickers though, thought we’d lost Sam for a moment there.”

  So had I. Just when I was pulling my head out of my ass to admit how much I wanted her, she’d been taken from me. It might be more than twenty years in the past, but my gut clenches when I think how I could have lost her.

  “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Peg. Can’t imagine what my life would have been like without her in it. We’ve ridden side by side for years now.” In a couple of years I’ll be celebrating my silver wedding. Me, who got my name for banging everything in sight, has remained faithful to one woman. My younger self would never have believed it.

  “We’ve done good, Drummer.”

  He’s right. We have.

  “Sam’s like the missing piece of me that I never realised wasn’t there.” I sound sappy, even to my own ears, but Peg simply raises his chin to show he knows exactly what I mean.

  “I always wanted an old lady. I’d already been married, you know that. Got burned pretty badly, but before it had all gone wrong, I knew what it was like to have someone to come home to. You, though, you were the confirmed bachelor if ever there was one. Surprised the fuck out of us when you settled with Sam. Never had a doubt you’d make it, though. Anyone could see she’d changed you, Drum. You’re a better man since she came along.”