Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11

by Manda Mellett

  But we’ve got to get this out into the open or else I’ll always be waiting for my demons to raise their heads. “No, I’m sorry I’m not the right woman for you. Truck, I don’t know what’s happened, but you’ve been right all along. I can’t change my past…” Comments when I’ve been tending bar have shown me that. Men here will never forget, will always be a reminder for him.

  “I’m not asking you too. I was blind, stupid, stuck in my own head. You weren’t a whore with me, Allie. It just took me too long to see it. That time, in my apartment, I should have known. Should have realised the difference. But even then, when I treated you so badly, you stayed. I’d trampled over your feelings, but you wouldn’t go until I took what I allowed you to give, your comfort.”

  Slowly I shake my head and lower my face.

  His fingers raise my chin once again. “After that first night, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even lying in that hospital bed, not sure I was going to get out of it, the only woman I saw in my head, was you.”

  “But…”

  “When I came back, I thought I’d been a fool, fallin’ for a whore. My heart wanted you, my head said you’d given me nothing more than anyone else. I tried to convince myself I didn’t want you, but I do, Al. I want a chance to prove it to you. I’ve said things, I know. Hurtful things. Have a lot to make up for.” A pained look crosses his face. “If I’m not what you want, Allie, tell me now. I’ll leave the compound, not you.”

  He’ll go?

  The shock of what he’d be giving up must show on my face, as he continues, “I know you won’t jump back into someone else’s bed, but this is your home.”

  “I love you,” I suddenly blurt out, then bite my tongue. Stupid. Stupid. I should have kept my mouth shut.

  He’s quiet for a moment, then he forces me to look at him. Emotion blazes from his one expressive eye as he states, “Took me too long to accept I had feelings for you. Allie, my Allie.”

  He didn’t reciprocate, but at least he hadn’t run screaming away. Any response I might have made is swallowed by his mouth covering mine once again. Another kiss. More tender, shorter.

  “I’d never made love before.” When he goes to speak, I put my hand over his mouth, caressing his lips with my fingers. He kisses them gently, making me smile. “You’ve had another first too. No man has ever kissed me before. I never let them. Well, except for a couple of boys in school, but they don’t count.”

  His breathing stills, then he sighs. The motion pushes his cock against me, and I suspect that it was intentional. I know what he wants. What all men do.

  He’s hard as rock. I move my hand down and cover his cock, then say, brazenly, “Do you want me to take care of that for you?”

  But he moves my hand away. “Nah, babe. That’s not how this is going to go.” Before he continues, he places his hands on my upper arms, and steps back until there’s a foot of distance between us. His gaze roams from my toes all the way back up to my face. “You have no fuckin’ idea what these new dresses of yours do to me. Much sexier, sweetheart, than those clothes you used to wear. Tonight we’re going back to our suites, our own suites. You to yours, me to mine. I hear you’ve got tomorrow night off?”

  I’m trying to follow his side of the conversation, but it’s hard. A question though, I can answer. “Yes, I was going…”

  “No more looking for jobs.”

  My eyes crease. “But I’ve got to…”

  “Whatever’s in that head of yours, put it out. You’ve got bartending work here on the compound. I know why you wanted to leave, to put distance between us. But now it’s not distance either of us want. So, you put your plans on hold. Indefinitely, you hear me? I told you, I claimed you.”

  It’s all happening so fast, it’s taking time for my brain to catch up. As he seems to want some sign of agreement, I nod.

  “As we’ve established you’re not working tomorrow and you’ve got nothing else to do…” he raises an eyebrow, but I keep my mouth shut. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You make yourself pretty in your new clothes.” He raises one hand and strokes my hair. “Leave this loose. And I’m going to take you out on a date.”

  No sex tonight. A date tomorrow?

  “Um, you don’t need to…”

  “Yes, I do, Allie. We’ll go out, talk a bit. Find out about each other. Do what normal folks do. Try and upright this topsy-turvy relationship of ours.”

  It hits me what he’s attempting. Jumping into bed together now would be nothing more than me proving all he needs to do is crook his finger and I’ll go to him. This is about him working for it, as normal people do when they date. I just hope he’s not going to make me wait too long. For months I’ve been dreaming of repeating that night.

  I squirm, my arousal making me uncomfortable. “Er, if I play my cards right, might I get lucky tomorrow?”

  He throws back his head and laughs, a genuine mirth. “You never know, sweetheart. We both just might.”

  Then he takes my hand, and starts leading me up the track toward the bloc which houses both our suites, but he stops about halfway, pointing up. We’re far enough out of the city that no light from the streetlamps obscures the stars overhead. It’s a sight I’ve seen, but am mostly immune to after all the years I’ve lived on the compound. But when he tilts up my head, I look and see too.

  “It’s beautiful,” I tell him.

  “Not as beautiful as you,” he replies gruffly.

  I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. Genuine compliments about anything other than my prowess in bed is not something I’m used to.

  It’s hard parting at the entrance to our suites. Our kiss so full of joint need and emotion, it seems wrong not to end up in bed together. I’ve no doubts he’ll soon have his hand on his cock, and I aim to pleasure myself too while visions of him circle my head. It takes all that I am to stop from begging him to take me into his bed tonight, or hell, for him to join me in mine.

  I even go to open my mouth to plead, when he stops me with a shake of his head.

  “Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

  I glance down, and giggle. “Is that possible?”

  “Fuck, Allie. I’m going to have my hands full with you.”

  I take pity on him. “Another kiss?”

  “Yeah. Another kiss I can do.”

  It’s not enough, but with the promise and hope of what’s happening tomorrow, it will have to do.

  I hear Truck’s door open and close first thing in the morning. He’ll be off to the gym to work out with Peg. After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, I’ve woken a bag of nerves, already hoping I don’t fuck up our date tonight. While I appreciate what he’s trying to do, to put our relationship on a normal footing, I wish we could just get to the main event where I’d be confident I’d know what I’m doing.

  What if I open my mouth and the wrong thing comes out? Truck said he wanted to get to know me. What if he doesn’t like the person I really am? What have I got to offer a firefighter?

  Lack of sleep and a lot of second guessing myself has made me grumpy. When I drag myself out of bed and get down to the clubhouse, I’m not in the best of moods. I occupy myself checking the bar stock and compiling a list of things that I’ll need the prospects to pick up. Running low on beer is an absolute no-no in a club full of thirsty bikers.

  “Allie.”

  Drummer’s sharp voice has me standing so fast I bang my head on the underside of the bar. Like that’s put me in a better mood.

  Rubbing my skull vigorously, I snap, “What?”

  “Whoa!” He steps back, holding his hands up in surrender. “You get out of the wrong side of the bed? Or,” he chuckles, “the wrong bed?”

  I simply stare.

  “Al. You and Truck can’t stand outside the clubhouse eating each other’s faces and expect to keep it quiet.” He lets that sink in, and my face blushes bright red, before he continues, “Told you he’d come around, didn’t I?”


  I’d have said Drummer was the last man I’d ever want to confide in, but I find myself glancing around to make sure no one else is in earshot, then confess, “He’s taking me on a date tonight, and I’m freaking out.”

  “You think you might say the wrong thing? Use the wrong knife and fork? Hey, Al. You’ll be fine.” His eyes narrow. “I’d say I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I wouldn’t have given you both a nudge in the right direction if I didn’t think you were a good fit. You realise how big a step Truck’s taking tonight?”

  My head tilts as my brow furrows.

  “And that’s the reason you’re perfect for him. You have no fuckin’ idea as it doesn’t bother you. This will be the first time Truck has voluntarily appeared in public since he got those scars. That he feels confident enough to do that with you, Al, well, that speaks fuckin’ volumes.”

  My hand covers my mouth. “I never thought, I didn’t think. Drummer, I don’t see his scars, I see the man underneath. I completely forgot.” What does that say about me? I’ve been worrying my head about myself, never thinking what a toll going out could take on my man.

  “Fuckin’ perfect for him, Al. Perfect.”

  That’s all the prez says. He walks off chuckling and shaking his head.

  Mid-afternoon and I’m already in the shower, doing something I haven’t done for a very long time. Preparing for a date. The last time doesn’t really count, I was getting ready to sneak out of the house for a secret rendezvous with a kid from school.

  I’m only half enjoying the experience. Oh, Truck told me to wear a dress and keep my hair down, but make up? How much is enough, and what’s too much? I put it on, take it off, then redo it again. My hands are shaking and I end up poking myself in my eye when I put on mascara. Then have to start all over again once I’ve washed the black smudge off my face.

  A little light foundation, a dusting of face powder. Muted pink lipstick, and I’m ready to go.

  Two freaking hours early.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Truck…

  Although the door to her suite is opposite mine, it seems symbolic when I raise my hand to knock. I’m as nervous as I was in my teens, waiting for my prom date to open her door.

  Back then I’d been a lanky youth, but while I’d never have taken a stroll down the catwalk, I was confident when I looked in a mirror that my face wouldn’t disappoint. Now I’m standing here, clean shaven as I’m worried a beard might not grow properly over my scars, and very conscious of my fake eye, and my lopsided gait.

  With my hand hovering in mid-air, I give myself a pep talk. This is Allie. She’s already proven she sees beyond the scars.

  I’d suggested this. It was all my fault. Give us a chance to get to know each other, I’d told her. But what if she’s turned off by the shit that may come out of my mouth? Perhaps this is one big mistake.

  I’d been so determined not to treat her like a whore, not to take advantage of her, to start wherever this was heading on the right foot, I’d overlooked what that implied. Right now I’d prefer to speak to her using my cock rather than my brain and mouth, not so sure they will comply.

  My nervousness increases when I find the fortitude to knock, and she opens her door. She looks amazing. So far removed from the sweet butt that used to work in the club, my hands shake.

  “Ready?” Does she look as shell shocked as I? Or am I imagining things? What has she got to worry about? She’s a gorgeous woman. Looking like that, she could have any man on the planet. Will she realise, wake up, and run a mile?

  “Are we going or what?”

  “Hmm. Rethinking this for a moment there.”

  She’s on my wavelength. “You want to go straight to dessert?” she says with a smile.

  “Very tempting.” I don’t hide the sweep of my gaze from her head to her feet. “But I promised you a date.”

  I hold out my hand. She takes it.

  Despite the work I’m doing with Peg, and continuing my brain training exercises to be able to rely on one eye, while I’ve taken to the wheel of a car during the day, I don’t like to drive at night, finding lights coming toward me disorientating. Wanting her to enjoy the hours ahead, I don’t want Allie to drive either, so have enlisted a prospect’s help. Hound will be taking us into Tucson tonight, and will be on standby to collect us at the end of our evening.

  “Where are we going, Truck?” she asks, as we walk down through the compound.

  I hesitate before I respond, “I’ve made reservations at the Wheel Inn.” I hold my breath, waiting for her to reply.

  “I’ve never been.”

  I can’t tell anything from her words, whether she’s pleased or dismayed I’m taking her to the restaurant the Satan’s Devils own.

  This is the first time I’m going out in public for anything other than a hospital appointment or the like. Tonight I’m voluntarily putting myself out there for people to gawk at. At the Wheel Inn there’s usually a brother or two around, and I know they’ll have my back. I’ve not yet experimented with people’s reaction to the scarring on my face, or that I’ve got a fake eye.

  As we reach the SUV and Hound insists on opening the doors for us, I muse if it weren’t for Allie by my side, I wouldn’t feel ready to take this step. But her easy acceptance of the way I look gives me a new confidence to face the world.

  “How was your day?” she asks, as we start the short drive into town.

  I grimace. “Challenging. Peg’s a fuckin’ hard taskmaster. I thought Captain Slade was bad enough, but Peg? Nah, he’s got him well beat.”

  “Is it helping?”

  “A lot.” I can feel muscles starting to get back to where they once were on my right side, and improving on my left. How far I’ll get, I still don’t know, my left ankle won’t bend, however much I strengthen up. All I can do is learn to compensate.

  “How’s your bike coming along?”

  It’s obvious what she’s doing. Polite conversation to take my mind off the ordeal ahead. Squeezing her hand, I respond, “Blade’s got an electric gear shift on its way. It’s a push button affair, and from what I’ve seen, he should be able to fix it fairly easily.”

  “Will he put that on the right hand side?”

  I shake my head. “No, but on the left should be okay, that way we don’t need to move the brake which would be a lot of work. It’s operated with the thumb. Peg’s helped me strengthen my grip, and Blade’s going to do what he can to lighten the touch to what I need.”

  “So you’ll definitely be able to ride?”

  Her question pulls me up. Somehow over the past few days I’ve gone from never expecting to feel a bike under me again, to thinking about when. As I reply, “I think so,” she places her hand on my leg, then quickly lifts it away.

  Good move. It was hard to resist nudging her hand further up my thigh. I do not want to walk into a restaurant sporting a raging hard-on.

  Once again Hound opens the door for us when we arrive, I hide a grin at the full chauffeur treatment, then frown and take a deep breath as we walk through the entrance.

  Sandy herself comes over to greet us. “Truck, Allie. Got you a nice table in the corner.”

  I lift my chin toward Rock and Shooter standing by the bar, in return they raise their drinks back at me. Free drinks on the house for basically acting as bouncers in case any trouble goes down.

  The Satan’s Devils run a successful business here, but half the time we’re not sure whether it’s the excellent menu we have on offer, or the fact that it enables citizens to walk on the wild side. Whatever, having a couple of brothers here wearing cuts doesn’t hurt the dollars coming in at all, and, if it helps, it’s all to the good.

  Allie takes her seat, and Sandy hands first her, then me, a menu.

  “Can I get you some drinks?”

  We order beer and wine, then are left alone.

  Reaching my undamaged hand over the table, I take hold of hers. “Relax. We’re here to have some great food and have a go
od time.”

  Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t know how to do this,” she says, hesitantly. “I’ve never been on a date before.” She bites her lip, “Are there some rules I should follow?”

  “Allie, you’ll be fine. You look amazing, by the way. Should have told you earlier.” I feel like hitting my head that I hadn’t. “Seems I’m out of practice with dating etiquette as well.”

  I notice Allie’s squinting at the menu, and Road’s comment about her lack of reading skills comes back to me.

  “What do you fancy?” I ask her casually. “The Chicken Supreme sounds good.” I continue running down the menu, “Or would you prefer the steak?” I notice her concentrating on me as I vocalise every item.

  Allie stops me a couple of times, pointing out there’re a few dishes we’ve already had tasters of in the clubhouse.

  “Ma certainly did the club a solid leaving that recipe book behind,” I observe.

  “She did. I don’t know how, but a different spice here, a new herb there. It makes all the difference.”

  Having eventually decided and placed our orders, silence descends. When I notice her fidgeting, I go to break it. “Tell me something about yourself.”

  “There’s not much to tell.”

  “How did you end up with the Satan’s Devils?”

  She’s brief, frank. Her story utterly heart-breaking. As she glosses over details from her past, I get the image of a young girl who was ignored in preference to her younger, and in Allie’s eyes, more intelligent brother. A burden to her mom who couldn’t be bothered to give her the help she needed. That she survived at such a young age on the streets was a miracle. I begin to be convinced joining the Satan’s Devils probably saved her life, or at least prevented her being snatched and made into a sex slave.

  As she talks, it just confirms what I already know. She’s about as far from stupid as you can get. Even at sixteen she knew enough to steer clear of pimps, and keep independent.

  “It wasn’t always easy.” Seeing my interest, she gives me more details, not realising every word she speaks makes me wish it was possible to turn back time and be there to save her. “Big Mac, well, his name was Mac, and he was big, so though it was tempting to laugh at his name, once you met him, well…” her shiver completes her thoughts. “I was young, too young. I looked it too. He kept offering to take care of me. But I’d met some of the girls he had in his stable, they were dependant on drugs which he provided. I used to hide whenever I saw his car. I had to move more than once when he found out where I was staying.”