Amy's Santa: Satan's Devils MC Second Generation #1

by Manda Mellett

  No. I need time.

  “Well, fuck.” Drummer’s shaking his head. “I didn’t see this coming. Thought you were with that Xander.”

  “I stole her away,” Drew admits, putting the blame on himself. “Perhaps it took seeing her about to put me out of her life forever to bring me to my senses. I’ve always known it was her, and I did what I could to make sure I didn’t lose her.”

  Dad’s face is unreadable. Then he says, “Step away from my daughter.”

  I gasp as Drew does so, watching Dad, trying to analyse his body language. I know violence is part of these men’s lives and fully expect him to hit his prez. Out of the corner of my eye I see the VP, Hawk, stand up. When he nods at someone, I see it’s at Hound.

  Drummer steps up to Dad’s side, and behind him, is Peg.

  Oh shit. I knew we should have been more subtle. There’s going to be a fight in the clubhouse, no one will let Dad get away with harming their prez. Will Drum stop it, or take on his son? What a clusterfuck this is turning out to be.

  But as soon as Drew is clear of my body, Dad shows he’s got different intentions to those I had feared. He holds out his hand. When Drew takes it, he pulls him to him and slaps his back. “I couldn’t wish for a better man for my daughter,” he admits. Shocked, I see his eyes glisten. I suspect he’s realising I’ll be back and living on the compound. Then I see him take a step back and glare viciously. “You hurt her? Then you better prepare to meet Satan.” Almost immediately his expression softens again, this time when he takes Drew’s hand it’s to shake it. “Welcome to the family.”

  It’s a signal for everyone to make their reactions known. Hawk and Hound step down, and join in with the hollers and shouts, stomping of feet, and banging of fists on tables. The noise is deafening as everyone shows their approval. Dad holds out his arms, and I step into them, hearing his voice in my ear, “Welcome home.”

  When he lets me go, I see Mouse. His hand is firmly resting on Drew’s shoulder. “This sit right with you?”

  “Oh, so fuckin’ right,” is Drew’s simple answer.

  “Amy!” I swing around to find Mariana approaching. She’s got tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t be happier. You were meant to be together.” And then I’m engrossed in another hug, the first of many tonight. Well, from the women at least.

  Whether it’s Drew being over-protective or whether he’s jealous, he stands by my side warning the men off with low growls emanating from his throat.

  “You’re being a bit obvious,” I tell him, while deep down I’m relieved not to make my own excuses.

  He pulls me into his body and speaks softly into my ear. “I don’t mind my brothers hugging you, Amy, but you stiffen when they get close. It’ll come, babe. You’ll get there. But for now, I’m keeping them away, okay? And if they think I’m just being ultra-possessive, I couldn’t give a flying fuck.”

  I stare up at him in wonder. “I didn’t think it was possible to love you more, Drew.”

  Suddenly Peg whistles loudly and calls out, “Sam’s just told me, dinner is ready.”

  I hold Drew back. “Thank you,” I tell him softly. “I hate being like this.”

  He holds my gaze for a moment, then places the gentlest of kisses against my forehead. “You’ll get there, babe. You’ll be okay. Now shall we get some plates while there’s still some food left?”

  With Drew’s arm firmly around me, I step forward and join in what can only be described as a stampede as people rush to fill their plates with the delicious food the old ladies have cooked up. Well, I think it was delicious. I cleared my plate, but I couldn’t tell you what I’d eaten.

  All the time I’m seated, Drew’s got his hand on my thigh. I can feel the warmth of his palm, and I keep sneaking looks at the handsome man sitting beside me, finding it hard to imagine if he has his way, we’ll be like this for the rest of our lives. It’s a heady thought, and one that’s hard to get my mind around.

  “Hey. Ever wonder why Santa doesn’t have his own kids?” Joker’s loud voice cuts through the air.

  “’S’pect you’re going to fuckin’ enlighten us,” calls out Rock.

  Joker certainly does. “’Cause he only comes once a year.”

  On cue, everyone groans.

  Joker doesn’t care, but continues, “How does Santa stay free of the clap?”

  I notice Sophie covering Hilda’s ears, and the young teenager shrugging her off. I also see Mouse glaring at his daughters Maria and Tanya, while the expression on the face of Yiska, his son and eldest child, leaves no one in any doubt the fourteen-year-old knows exactly what Joker’s talking about.

  “’Cause he wraps his package before shoving it down the chimney.” Joker snorts as he gives the punchline.

  There are a few chuckles at that one. I grin, and looking over, see Lady shaking his head at the antics of his man. He slaps a hand over his partner’s mouth, but Joker pushes it away.

  “A whore was lying in bed waiting for Santa to come. Then he got dressed and went back up the chimney.”

  There are a few grunts but mostly groans at that one.

  Then Joker’s eyes find mine. “Hey, Amy? Is your name Jingle Bells?”

  My brow creases as I hold myself ready for the answer.

  “’Cause you look ready to go all the way.” Joker’s head drops to the table and his shoulders shake at his own brand of humour.

  “Lady, how the fuck do you put up with him?” Blade shouts out.

  Lady winks at their daughter, Maya, and then pulls Joker in for a long, deep kiss eliciting cries of put him down before he answers, “Because I love him.”

  Awws go around. Drew takes it as his cue and his arm comes around me, then his lips find my mouth.

  “Christ.” Dad’s eyes have opened wide. “You’re going to be fuckin’ my daughter.”

  Marc slaps his arm, while Drew answers calmly, “You can bet on that.”

  My face must resemble a beetroot.

  Suddenly another voice sounds, “Who says oh, oh, oh?” Then he spoils it by immediately giving us the answer, “Santa walking backwards.”

  This time there’s genuine laughter, and Wraith slaps Tommy on the back. Tommy starts beaming. His eyes catch mine and he grins even wider. I haven’t seen Tommy since I arrived home.

  As they’re sitting opposite, I hear Wraith as he asks, “Tommy, why didn’t the skeleton go to the Christmas party?”

  He gives Tommy time, then when Tommy’s shoulders rise and fall, then looks at him wide-eyed with his head shaking, continues, “Because he had nobody to go with.”

  It takes him a moment then Tommy slaps the table and gives a belly laugh. Still chuckling, he turns to the joke teller. “Good one, VP.”

  Seems the child/man can’t understand the changes as he gives Wraith his old rank. But no one here gives a damn.

  Everyone is here tonight, old ladies and children, and there’s even a table for the whores who are fully dressed for the occasion. I don’t think anyone’s missing. Watching my family, my stomach full of good food, I lean back in my chair and feel myself relax. Then a thought hits me. If Xander was here, I’d be on edge, wondering what he made of the people around me. I don’t think he’d have fit in. Oh, he’d have been polite, but as the drinks flow and people become rowdier, I think he’d have been uncomfortable.

  Suddenly, the door to the clubhouse opens, and a few hands go to their guns. Then there’s a shocked silence, followed by roars of greeting.

  “What the fuck?” Drew gets to his feet, nods at Drummer, and the prez and ex-prez go to greet the visitors.

  “Sorry, we’re late.” Paladin nods at the baby he’s carrying. “This one wouldn’t stop fussing.”

  “I didn’t fuss, Daddy,” a toddler calls out.

  “I was good too, Dad,” the oldest boy says.

  “Hank, you only behaved yourself because Santa was coming.” Pal rolls his eyes at his wife.

  Hank. Paladin had called his first child the name of the man h
e once prospected with, and who was killed protecting Sophie. I glance over at Wraith’s wife to see her wiping a tear from her eye.

  A girl about four stares up at Paladin, her arms folded across her chest. Another girl, clearly her twin, copies her sister’s example.

  Pal just shakes his head. “I told you two before. You couldn’t bring your new bikes. There wasn’t room in the car. Now stop sulking.”

  As Pal competently deals with his brood, I count them. Five kids, and standing behind Pal is a very pregnant Jayden, and, well, look at that—I’m delighted to see Ella and her daughter Faith.

  “Jay!” I call out, then I, too, am running across, greeting my old babysitter.

  “Is there any fuckin’ food left?” a loud voice behind Pal asks.

  Another roar as Beef, the VP of the Colorado chapter, enters with his wife Steph, and her latest guide dog. I swear Rock has tears in his eyes, as he slowly stands, then quickens his pace. Within moments, Beef and Rock are hugging.

  “Sunny side up, Brother.”

  “Dirty side down.”

  Even Drummer seems choked up as the old team is back together.

  Once the newcomers are settled with plates—there were plenty of leftovers—Drummer stands and raises his glass. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas, Devils.” People drink, then there’s another toast. “Let’s raise our glasses to people who can’t be with us tonight.” He looks up at the ceiling, then back down. “Here’s to Tongue, Viper, Slick, Hank, Adam, Kidder and ShortAss. They may be gone, but there’ll ride with us forever.” As Drummer mentions the men who’ve been lost over the years, silence descends. I cast my mind back. ShortAss only rode with the club a few years. He prospected when I was a teenager, got into an argument with an eighteen wheeler and lost just before I left for Phoenix. Kidder joined later, he’d been shot, but I never heard the details of who, why, or how.

  As everyone spares a moment to remember, glasses are raised and drinks are sampled respectfully.

  Drew takes my hand, his eyes settling on all his members, then he looks back to me. Brushing my hair back from my face with one hand, he leans in. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amy

  I go to return his Christmas greeting, but the words dry in my throat as I see the fire in his eyes. There’s such promise in them that I shiver. This is real. I’m going to be in this man’s bed tonight, and, if he has his way, forever.

  “Babe, don’t look at me like that,” he warns. “Else I’m going to forget I’m the prez and that I ought to stay here, and instead drag you back to my room right fuckin’ now.”

  I love my family. Despite the misgivings that came with me to the compound, because of the man beside me, I’ve enjoyed the evening immensely, the celebrations and fun exceeding my expectations. But now I’m more than ready to leave and have Drew to myself. “Yes.”

  His eyes sharpen. “Yes?”

  I raise my head slightly, then let it drop.

  Fulfilling his threat, he grabs my hand and leads me through the partygoers, moving so fast I struggle to keep up with him. Hawk slaps him on the back and winks, Hound chuckles as we rush past, and Throttle stops him for a second and says something in his ear which I can’t hear, but makes Drew snort.

  Our progress is slowed as one by one the men want to talk to him. On my part, Sophie gives a hand wave, and Sam a thumbs up. Even Ella, who earlier I’d managed to have a brief chat with, grins and mouths good luck.

  Eventually we’re outside in the fresh air.

  I hold him back. “What did Throttle say?”

  Drew taps the side of his nose. “That’s between me and Throttle.”

  I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously.

  “Babe.”

  “So, you’re ‘babing’ me now,” I accuse. But my lips are curved upwards.

  Drew draws a deep breath and remarks, “Alone at last,” as he puts his arm around me and we start to walk up to his suite. “Just you and me. Fuck, I’ve waited years for this.”

  We don’t have far to go, as prez, he stays close to the clubhouse. His bloc is one of the nearest.

  Just you and me. Damn him to hell. Flint had said something similar that night when he suggested a private room. As Drew’s words filter through my brain, a flashback slams into me and his expectations of the night ahead suddenly don’t seem as enticing as they had previously. Alone with another man. This time there won’t be a dungeon monitor watching.

  My steps falter, I can’t breathe.

  Drew stops, his stare homing in on my face which I feel has been bleached of all colour.

  “I, I… I d-d-d-on’t think I c-c-can do this, Drew.” I’m trembling so much, I’m sure he can feel my body shaking as I gaze off to the side.

  He turns me back so I have to look at him, his eyes now softened. His hand brushes my hair back from my face, such a gentle touch it starts to calm me. “Heart didn’t give me any details, left me to fill in the gaps. All I know is that you suffered abuse in that BDSM club you went to.” He pauses, then gives it to me straight. “I’m going to guess you were raped in a place you should have been safe.”

  I can’t look at him, instead, once again, I turn away, finding the darkness more interesting.

  Pulling my head against his chest, he murmurs softly, “Will you tell me what happened? I want to help you.”

  I hesitate. An owl hoots in the distance, a common sound here, but not one I hear in the middle of Phoenix, usually it’s sirens instead. It reminds me where I am. As I breathe in the scent of Drew’s leather cut, I realise he deserves to know how damaged I am and what he’s proposing to take on.

  “I trusted him, Drew. He was a new Dom to me, but not to the club, though he hadn’t been there for some time. To be allowed to play, he’d have to have completed their training programme. Other Doms had greeted him like an old friend. There was nothing to make me suspicious.” I pause and sob. I’ve tried, God, I’ve tried to work out if there’d been some sign that I’d missed, some inkling I should have had that Flint wanted more than I’d been prepared to give. “I trusted him because he was a Dom, and Doms look after their subs. I knew it could only be a light play session, anything else was on my hard limits list. Penetration was banned in the Feathers club, other than hands and mouths. Part of the reason I went there.” Again I break off, wondering whether my words are too much for him to hear, but his hand is rhythmically stroking my head, and the movement doesn’t falter. My hands clasp the edges of his cut as though it’s an anchor. “We negotiated a scene, the type I like. I’d be tied up and blindfolded, and then there’d be sensual play.”

  “You like that?” There’s no censure in his question.

  “I did.” I take a shuddering breath and spit the worst out quickly, “I was restrained, blindfolded. I was expecting to feel a gentle touch, was waiting with anticipation. I couldn’t see… I couldn’t see what he’d taken out of his bag. It was a gag.” I huff mournfully. “I even opened my mouth when he told me too. It was to fucking gag me.” A moment of anger, swiftly chased away by the guilt at how easy I’d made it for him. Drew’s arm tightens around me, and under my cheek, I feel his heart race.

  “Go on,” he says, gruffly. “No secrets between us, Amy. I don’t want to not know and something I do trigger a reaction.”

  “You still want me?” My voice trembles.

  “Fuck yes. Nothing, nothing you can say will change how I feel about you.”

  The owl hoots again, ensuring I stay in the present, even though the vision in my head is of the past.

  I swallow and summon up the strength to resume. “He gagged me. I’d told him I didn’t like pain, but it didn’t stop him using a crop on me. It stung, he hit my breasts… He was strong, stronger than me. He untied my legs, turned me over and secured me again, even though I tried to fight him. He flogged my buttocks, then…” Drew’s hand keeps moving, never stopping. “He used a butt plug, forced it into me. All the time I was trying to make sounds, using the
hand signals to tell him to stop. Then, he, he...”

  “Shush, shush.”

  I’m sobbing, I hadn’t realised. But I want to get this all out. “He was raping me when Xander pulled him off.”

  “Why did no one fuckin’ stop him before it went that far?”

  “Xander was a dungeon monitor that night. He’d been checking on Flint and me, but he was called away when someone else got hurt. He felt so bad, Drew. He took me home and then stayed. I think at first it was out of guilt, a Dom’s disappointment a sub got hurt on his watch. I get nightmares, Drew, so he slept with me to comfort me, but that’s all he did in my bed.”

  Behind us the door to the clubhouse opens and someone steps out, laughing in the way people do when they’ve had enough drink to get merry, but aren’t drunk. I recognise the ‘goodnight’ called out as coming from Joker.

  “’Night,” Drew replies, and waits until the trio of Joker, his man and their daughter, walk past.

  “You’ve got a lot of fuckin’ baggage in your head, babe.” Drew’s body has gone tense. Is he angry? Upset? Disappointed?

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laid that on you.” I was wrong to tell him. What man wants to hear the details of how their woman had been abused?

  He takes a shuddering breath as though to bring himself back under control. When he speaks, his voice is even and calm. “Amy, babe.” He lifts his hand away from my hair and uses it to raise my face to his. “We’re going to be lovers, but more than that, friends and partners. Any burden you carry is mine to share. Thank you for being brave enough to tell me.”

  “I’m not brave.”

  His head shakes. “Oh, you fuckin’ are, Amy. You’ve survived, and you’ll get better every day. I’m here, and I’m here to stay. Nothing you can do, nothing you can say, will push me away. I’m not going to be pressuring you. One day you’ll be my woman in every sense of the word, but when will be driven entirely by you. For now, I’m happy you’ll be in my bed, and I get to lie beside you. I promise on my fuckin’ life you can trust me.”

  Drew’s never given me a moment to think I should have any concerns about that. “I do trust you.”