Satan's Devils MC Boxset 1

by Manda Mellett

  “Okay, so how do we stop the po-po from finding out?” Pennywise doesn’t seem overly concerned that we’re planning a murder.

  I’ve been giving a lot of thought to that, and while I long to take out the fucker in the most painful way possible, putting my personal feelings aside and thinking of the club, there’s only one answer. “It’s got to look like an accident.”

  “Any ideas?” Salem asks.

  “Some, yeah. Pennywise, you’re a sniper I hear.”

  “Sure am. Got the unit’s record at 1500 yards.” I know there’ve been longer shots, but at only just under a mile, that’s an impressive achievement.

  I let them in on my initial thoughts. “We track his regular routes. Find a spot. Basic idea is to shoot out his tyres. Need to try and sort it so he somersaults over the guardrail.”

  “I’d like to make some adjustments to that, VP. It’ll take too long trailing him, and he might get wise to a tail. How’s about we get him on a route we’ve planned and set up for instead?”

  Salem looks thoughtful. “He’s still got a hard-on for your bitch, VP. If he’s after her, and he’s planning to take her out, he won’t tell anyone where he’s going. We could use the lure of her as bait.”

  I nod at them both. “As long as we don’t put her in danger. She’s staying in Tucson, ya hear? You’re the expert, Pennywise, and both of you know the terrain around here better than I do.”

  Stroking his chin with one hand, Salem cocks his head on one side. “What about the Lake Wohlford road from Escondido to Valley Center? We can take him out where there’s a drop off on the left before the paintball grounds.”

  Pennywise is nodding. “That would do. But it means we’d have to get him on the way back down.”

  Salem hasn’t finished. “How’s about we let him know she’s been spotted somewhere up near Valley Center? We’ll drop you off, Pennywise, get you in position early. Then we’ll stake out where we want him to go, get exact details of what he’s driving. When he’s finished his wild goose chase, you can get him on his way back down to Escondido.”

  “Can you do it with one shot?” I ask, creasing my brow. I don’t doubt that he’ll hit it, but banking on a blowout which will take him over the guardrail could be down to luck.

  Pennywise grins an evil looking leer. “I’ll use a dumdum bullet. One that expands on impact. Got a fella who makes my ammunition for me. That fucker will explode and he won’t have a chance.”

  “Any chance of them finding evidence of the bullet?”

  A shrug. “Can assure you there won’t be much left of the tyre other than shredded rubber. The bullet will have disintegrated, but of course there’s always a slight risk. There’s a chance, of course that they might find a fragment, but even if they do, it won’t point to us. My guy’s too clever to leave his signature. And a cop as rotten as Thompson must have a fuckload of enemies.”

  Salem nods. “Even if they were suspicious, the Satan’s Devil they know of is in Tucson with your old lady. Thompson was the only one who knew she had anything to do with this club, and he’ll be long gone before they start investigating.”

  We seem to be covering all the bases. Of course, there’s a fuck of a lot of things that could go wrong, but it’s the only clean way I can think of to take Thompson out. It still leaves a sour taste in my mouth that I can’t make him suffer like he did my woman, but dead’s dead in the end, as Mouse had told me.

  Pennywise wants some time to scout an exact location to set up, and Salem volunteers to look for somewhere we can lure Thompson to. While I’m anxious to get this matter over and done with, I agree that we need to take time to scope it all out. But I itch with impatience. At the forefront of my mind, after all, is the thought that once we’ve accomplished this, there’s nothing to stop Alex coming back to San Diego as a grieving widow. And my old lady. And with enough money so she can start on the road to get treatment arranged for Tyler. The benefits weigh up well against the downside that Thompson’s heading for too easy a death.

  As I’ve at last got some free time, I decide that next weekend I’ll be making a visit back home. I’ve rarely gone so long without sex before, and while I’m steering clear of the club whores—particularly Eva—my hand’s getting a twice daily workout in the shower, fuelled by thoughts of exactly what I’m going to do to Alex next time I see her. There’s an upside to this forced time apart, as it means she should be healed up by the time I return, and I can start giving her some real biker loving. Just the thought of her luscious lips around my cock, or the idea of me working my way into her tight cunt never fails to have the predictable reaction.

  I’m just adjusting myself in my jeans, having spent the last few moments thinking about my woman when Lost meets me at the bar. Opening my mouth to tell him of my decision to go home, he forestays my words with a sentence of his own. And just like that, my plans to get fucked anytime soon turn to dust.

  “Dusty and Scribe are looking to leave us.”

  “Fuck.” I’ve not had much to do with that pair. They’ve been keeping themselves quiet and out of the way. “Think they were mixed up in Snake’s shit?”

  Lost shakes his head. “I really don’t think so. They’re just twitchy, wondering what’s going to happen to the club. Someone’s put out a rumour that Drummer wants to close us down. We’re losing money, Brother, as some of the businesses are running on a skeleton crew, and they’re also afraid their pay packet’s gonna get lighter.”

  “But we haven’t got as many mouths to feed. Their take-home shouldn’t drop much.”

  “Just as long as the rot doesn’t extend any further. Lose more men, a business may have to fold.”

  I think for a few seconds. “They tight with anyone else, other than themselves?”

  “Scribe used to hang out with Rattler.”

  So he’ll be missing his brother. “Want me to have a word?”

  “Yeah, VP. That would be useful. Need you around to keep an eye on them. We don’t want them influencing anyone else.”

  Weekdays most of us work, weekends is the time they’re more likely to get into corners and plot. Reluctantly, I realise I’ll have to put Alex off for another week if I’m going to take my role seriously here. As Lost continues to sit beside me, each of us lost in our own thoughts, I try to turn my mind away from the disappointment that I’ll have to wait longer to see my old lady, and instead consider the problem at hand. As I drink my beer, I start to think on the reasons why we all joined the Satan’s Devils in the first place, and why we endured the long twelve months or more of the prospecting stage to get to be a full-fledged member. The love of riding bikes, the brotherhood. And don’t forget pussy and alcohol on tap.

  Lost is staring morosely into his bottle. As the solution comes to me I pat him on the shoulder. “Arrange a run. Saturday. Somewhere we can have a barbeque, on the beach, perhaps? Get the girls there, perhaps gather up some of the hangers on? A good ride on their sleds, food, beer, girls, and companionship might remind Scribe and Dusty what they’re thinking of giving up.”

  Lost takes a moment to respond. When he finally turns, there’s a sparkle in his eyes which wasn’t there before. “Fuckin’ good idea, VP.” Then without wasting a moment, he cups hands around his mouth and hollers, “Run, Saturday. Leaving at noon sharp. Everyone’s coming. Mandatory attendance.”

  There’s a moment of silence, then somebody cheers and someone else says, “About fuckin’ time.”

  The prez gives me a wink before crossing to his office and picking up the reins of business again. Guess that’s my job as VP, keeping everyone’s morale up.

  “I suppose that was you?” Salem comes up and slaps my back. “Lost’s been, well, lost since he took top spot.”

  “Cut him some slack, Brother. He’s got a lot on his plate.”

  “Not criticising him, but with you watching his back we’ve got quite a team here.” I nod absentmindedly. Sure, I miss my brothers back in Tucson, but this group is turning out to be a
good fucking bunch. Any I hadn’t taken to at first were among the lot that are now out bad. “So where we going?”

  Realising Salem’s still talking, I bring my attention back. “No idea, man. Don’t know this area too well as yet.”

  Salem turns around. “Blaze. Come here, man.” Blaze is the road captain. “VP’s organising a run and beach barbeque with fuck-all idea where to go. Help him out, will ya?”

  With a nod at me and a gesture toward Al, one of the prospects minding the bar, he takes his bottle of beer. “How far away d’ya want?”

  “Far enough to get our engines warm, not so far that we spend all day on the bikes.”

  Blaze taps his beer bottle against his mouth. “Sixty-miles or so do ya? I’m thinking Doheny State Beach. It’s got picnic areas and grills for barbequing. Been there a few times before and always had a good time.”

  “Sounds good, man!” I slap his back. “Sounds fuckin’ good.”

  Once we’ve got an outline of arrangements, I’m just about to push away from the bar when this time it’s Pennywise who comes over, pulls me to one side, and speaks in a low voice. “Reckon we could combine the two? You, me, and Salem go sort Thompson out, then go join them at the beach. Got a whole load of brothers who’ll swear we were with them the whole time.”

  I like the idea. I like it very much. “Any idea on location?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking of heading out tomorrow and having a look around, find the right spot.” He pauses to grin. “If my boss gives me time off work, that is.”

  I’m his boss, so I give a broad grin back. “I’m sure he can arrange something.”

  “Can I make a suggestion, VP?” At my nod he continues, “We’re best off not riding our bikes when we do the deed. So get the prospects to ride them. Anyone counts up the bikes, we’ll all be accounted for. On the way back, they can drive the crash truck.”

  “And who drives it there?”

  He nods his head to where the sweet butts are coming in. “Ask Eva. She’ll do it as long as she hasn’t got a shift at the hospital.”

  The one person I don’t want to speak to. It’s not that I don’t trust myself, I just like to keep a distance and not encourage her to be friendly. When Alex can come to this chapter, I don’t want any rumours around that I’ve been getting close. Funny enough, I feel worse about what isn’t even a betrayal to Alex than I do about an unknown prospect riding my bike.

  As the woman in question catches me looking at her, I realise putting it off isn’t going to make it better. Instead of ignoring her as I normally do, I approach. “Eva.” I raise my chin in greeting.

  “Dart.” Her face splits into a welcoming smile. “We haven’t spoken since you got back.” She points at my VP flash in my cut. “Congrats on that. Does that mean you’re staying here a while?”

  “I’ll stay as long as necessary.”

  “And while you’re here, how about you and I get together?” Moving closer, she manages to brush up against me. Immediately, I take a step back and decide it’s time to put her completely straight.

  “I’m with Alex. She’s my ol’ lady.”

  She makes a fuss of looking around her and then puts her hand on my arm. “She’s not here, is she? Where is she? Back in Tucson? And you, poor baby, must be in need of some company by now. I know you haven’t been with the other girls, so you must have blue balls.”

  Not having old ladies at the San Diego chapter, the club girls haven’t seen how faithful a biker can be once he’s found the right woman. After her indiscreet disclosure to Alex last time and all the damage that caused, in the extremely unlikely event that I had a fancy to go with a whore it certainly wouldn’t be her. I remove her hand from my arm, not feeling the slightest stirring in my cock.

  “I told you, I’ve got an old lady. She gets my dick, nobody else.”

  Eva pouts, obviously unhappy.

  Not understanding what attracted me to her in the first place, hell, then I wasn’t concerned with her looks or her character, just wanting to get my rocks off, I decide to end this confrontation and fast. “Need you to do something for us, Eva. You gonna be free Saturday afternoon?” When she nods and tilts her head to one side, I tell her what we need.

  “A barbeque on the beach sounds fun. We haven’t done anything like that for a while. Sure, I’ll drive the truck and follow you guys. You want I should bring the other club girls as well, rather than leaving them to make their own way there?”

  Might as well. The prospects can return in the truck Pennywise, Salem, and I will be using. “Yeah, bring them with you if they want.”

  “And perhaps you and I can have some fun?”

  She doesn’t give up. I shut that down fast. “No chance of that. I’m not cheating on Alex, not today, not Saturday, not ever.”

  I don’t know if it’s the promotion to VP status or simply finding the right girl to take as my old lady, but suddenly, as I speak to Eva, I realise I’ve grown up. I’m no longer the man who doesn’t want to be tied down. I’m the man who wants to make Alex my wife, do everything properly, adopt Tyler, and eventually add a couple more kids into the mix. And that’s the thought that gets me hard, not the idea of variety and a different girl in my bed every night.

  Leaving her standing and disappointed, I turn away and a smile comes to my face. I never understood how the likes of Drum, Wraith, and Slick could tie themselves to one woman before. And Heart’s devastation at losing his soulmate, well I’ll give him a pass on that. If anything should happen to Alex… Just the thought turns my stomach sour.

  Chapter Thirty

  Alex…

  Dart had to go to San Diego for reasons that weren’t his own, and while I’m proud on his behalf that Drummer proposed him for VP, I hate this distance apart. I could spend all my time tense, worrying he’s being unfaithful, or I could remember, that time when he went with Eva, he’d made no promises to me. Now that he has, unless I trust him, I’ll just get myself tied up in knots. I resolve to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  And that’s not as hard as it seems. While I’d hoped he’d have returned for a visit by now to explore our fledging relationship, he never fails to call every night and gives me the gist of what’s going on down in San Diego. Although he doesn’t tell me anything that comes under the category of club business, I hear enough to know he’s run off his feet.

  He asks a lot about Tyler and, unfortunately, I’ve had to admit he’s had another couple of episodes. They seem to be happening more frequently now, the stress of seeing his father again seems to have triggered them off. Dart sounds more worried than me. I learned long ago, I just need to make it as easy on my son as I can, and not to waste time agonising over what I can’t prevent.

  I do what I can. Once Tyler had an episode in the clubroom, witnessed by Dart’s brothers. The men have been great, the temperature in the clubhouse has been turned up a few degrees so Tyler doesn’t have such a shock walking in from the outside. When I’ve apologised for causing them discomfort, they shrug it off, saying I, and by extension, Tyler, belong to the Satan’s Devils now, and their protection extends to looking after his health. When they’d seen Tyler collapse in pain, Paladin, the youngest of them all, carried him up to my suite, and the burly Beef followed, his jaw clenched with concern.

  No, worrying about it won’t make a difference. What will is getting Tyler back to San Diego to talk with the specialist he was seeing before we had to leave. The frequency of his episodes is increasing to the point that some action needs to be taken. If I agree to a blood transfusion to help in the short term, I say goodbye to the chance of success for a permanent cure.

  I’ve lived with the worry about Tyler for six years and have learned constantly dwelling on his health isn’t good for either of us. It’s best to remain positive for him and keep my worry and fear for the future hidden. I help him through his episodes and then move on. And I’ve got so much to do here, it’s not too hard to try to put his disease to the back of my mind, concentrati
ng on the positive things I can do instead, such as trying to raise money.

  In the past few weeks, the arrangements for the poker run have started to take shape. We’ve sorted the route and have applied for the necessary permits from the counties the run will be going through and from the police. We’ve got a number of sponsors who’ve agreed to donate prizes, and a local and popular tribute band have agreed to take part.

  We’re starting at a restaurant and ending up in a park where we’ve got permission to set up a marquee. The Wheel Inn will be doing some of the catering, but with the numbers expected, they’re having to bring in outside help. We’ve enlisted an army of catering vans, selling anything from hot dogs and pizzas to cotton candy and ice cream.

  Sam and Wraith have even done an interview with a local radio station, who have gotten interested in the cause and that it was to help a young boy. We got a firm who prints t-shirts involved, who’re going to produce versions celebrating the event and sell them at the park. Other vendors are stepping up too, all interested in taking part.

  People are already registering, and the ten-dollar entrance fees we decided to charge have started to trickle into the bank account Dollar has set up. We’ll be running a raffle and giving prizes for all manner of things. And we’ve contacted the area’s car and motorcycle clubs who are going to come and set up a show.

  With Tyler’s health deteriorating, I’ve tried to keep him quiet, and have had him helping me to design flyers and the like. He’s taken quite an interest, especially when Wraith suggested he judges some of the competitions, like those for the longest beard and longest ponytail.

  “Wow! I’m exhausted.” Sam comes and flops down into the chair beside me. After heaving a sigh, she sits up straight. “Right, I’ve been to the printers and got a whole batch of tickets and flyers, and dropped them off at the Harley store. Also a couple of other biker shops in Tucson.”