Being Lost: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #1

by Manda Mellett

  “I was going to leave him, Lost. I left him a note…”

  “Which Wrangler gave to me.” Belatedly. He shouldn’t have waited.

  “So he might not know?” When I nod, she relaxes a little.

  I let her shower first. I might be getting older, but if I shared the water with her, I’m certain my cock would be up for another round. That it wasn’t only my stomach protesting the lack of sustenance persuaded me this was not the time.

  She’s quicker than I expected, and is soon out, dressed again in the same clothes. I take only a minute or so, and then we’re ready to go.

  Wrapping my arm around her, we descend to the clubroom.

  “Mom.” Dan raises his bottle of beer as he greets her, proving he’s totally unaware that she left the compound today. “Lost? Can I have a word?”

  “Sure,” I reply to him. “Just need to get your mom fed first.”

  Token’s the first person I see as I enter the kitchen. I give him a chin lift.

  “You hungry?” Pearl asks. “I made a chicken pasta bake earlier.”

  When I nod, she starts to serve up two plates. I move to take them from her, which puts what’s happening at the other end of the table in my sights. Inwardly I groan, turning to get Patsy out of there, but I’m not fast enough. Her eyes are already fixated on the scene.

  Kink’s seated at the table, on the floor beside him kneels a very naked young woman. The only thing she’s wearing is a blindfold and a collar and attached to that is a leash which Kink has wrapped loosely around his fist.

  I turn, opening my mouth to offer some kind of explanation—fuck knows what—but halt as I see Patsy’s lips curve.

  Kink loads his fork and completely oblivious to his audience, speaks to the girl by his side. “Open your mouth.” When she does, he places the fork in her mouth, and she closes her lips around the food offered.

  I clear my throat, and Kink catches my eye and grins.

  “Kink’s got a new pet,” Token says, unnecessarily.

  The only reaction Patsy shows is to take her plate from me with thanks, then she tilts her head toward the clubroom. I take mine and follow her out, embarrassed as fuck on her behalf, but to my surprise, she puts her plate down and then covers her face as she laughs.

  “Does that happen often?”

  “A bit,” I tell her, cautiously.

  “I did wonder how he got his handle.” She chuckles and then picks up her fork. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

  “Not like that. We only have one Kink,” I tell her. Thank fuck. But again my woman goes up in my estimation. Another might have run from the club screaming.

  Dan walks across. “Can I join you?”

  I nod, he sits down. He waits until we’ve cleaned our plates, then gets down to what he wants to discuss. He looks first at his mom, then at me. Then he takes a breath. “How do you become a prospect, Lost?”

  I hear Patsy’s indrawn breath. Do I wait to find out her opinion before answering her son’s question? But he’s twenty-two, not a kid anymore, and while her views should be taken into account, he’s his own man. I decide to treat him like I’d do anyone.

  “You hang around, show your interest. You ever ride a motorcycle?”

  “I have.” His face twists. “I don’t have a licence though.”

  “Well, you’ll have to do that properly, and get yourself a bike. Prospecting’s not fuckin’ easy, I’ll tell you that straight. You have to do everything that’s asked of you, however outlandish it may seem. You snap to it without question.” I narrow my eyes. “You know why we do that?”

  “So you can see what a man’s made of?”

  He’s partially right, but there’s a lot more to it. “So every man here knows they can trust you to have their back, to prove your loyalty to the club. It’s not easy, there are failures. You sulk or object or question shit, and you won’t get patched in.”

  Patsy sits forward. “I thought you wanted to go to college.”

  Before Dan can answer, I interrupt, “He could still do that. If he wants to work in our shop, for example, we can take him on as an apprentice, he can study and get his certificates done.”

  “You’d do that?” Dan asks, a gleam appearing in his eyes.

  “It will need to be voted on, but I don’t see a problem. If you’re serious, that is.”

  Dan shrugs. “I like the club, like the lifestyle. I enjoy the work too. I’m serious, Lost.”

  Patsy’s looking concerned. Damn. I don’t want to go against her wishes, but Dan should at least have a chance to prove himself as a hang-around if that’s what he wants. If she doesn’t want her son associated with an outlaw MC, what does that say about the future I want between her and me?

  But I’ve misjudged her. She turns to me. “Is it safe, Lost? Dan’s been here on the compound, but he’ll have to go out if he joins you. He can’t be confined to the compound for life. What if Alder finds him? Won’t that bring trouble to the club?”

  It’s not her son’s choices she’s worried about. Again, she’s concerned about us. I regard her carefully for a moment, realising she’s been a mom for so long, it would appear she never considers herself.

  “I told you, babe, we’ll deal with it. We’ll come out the other side.”

  She looks dubious, and hell, if she were to ask, I couldn’t come up with a plan. That idea of using her to draw Alder out is something I need to ponder on. Not putting her in danger, of course, but a word in the right ear could get Alder in the right place at the right time. Then we could end his sorry life and the world would be a lot better for it. It would have to be carefully done, of course. We’d need a plan that was watertight.

  Salem wanders over and joins us. Taking the makings of a joint out of his pocket, he starts to roll one up. I see Patsy flinch in case he questions her about earlier, but I know he’s not going to do that. Anything he wants to know, he’ll ask me later in private. Instead, he raises his chin at Dan.

  “You did some good work getting the hangar ready,” he acknowledges. “Got more done than I expected.”

  “When are you planning on moving the custom work here?” I ask.

  “Need to get some more equipment set up, then we’re good to go. Next week, perhaps?”

  “How d’ya feel about taking on an apprentice?” I nod at Dan.

  Salem eyes him carefully, his sharp eyes causing the young man to squirm. “Dan? Sure.”

  A bark of laughter interrupts us, as I turn, I too join in huffing a laugh. Smoker’s beard, for once out of its braided confines hangs like a shaggy untamed bush. He’s put some kind of grease in his hair as well, making him look unwashed. His top is torn and stretches tightly across what I notice is a scrawny chest. I hadn’t noticed how much weight he’s lost recently, which probably explains why Bones’ jeans hang low and heavy on him, clearly needing that piece of rope that serves as a belt to hold them up.

  Niran, minus his cut, is in a crisp white button-up shirt which contrasts blindingly against the dark brown of his skin.

  “For fuck’s sake, don’t spill chili down that.”

  Niran shows his middle finger to Blaze, as I turn my attention to Reboot. Yeah, he’s scrubbed up clean enough too. Just two citizen friends out for a meal, nothing to make them stand out.

  With back slaps and calls of ‘go find shit out’, they leave. Already I’m eager for them to return so I can see what they uncover. I hate this, too many question marks and too few full stops.

  The evening progresses like most others in the clubhouse. Okay, so luckily it’s not every day Kink passes leading his naked chick, crawling on all fours, back to his room, but often enough that it doesn’t raise eyebrows. Well, except for the woman sitting opposite me, but her expression is one of amusement and not trepidation. The girls come out to play, Pearl again demonstrating her skill on the pole while Cindy disappears with Dusty, and Tits sinks to her knees in front of Bones. Eva, I remember, has custody of her kid this weekend, so she won’t b
e here.

  I’d half expected Patsy to want to escape upstairs, but when I ask if she plays pool, then finding out she’s never tried, I offer to teach her, and she accepts. She seems to be learning to avert her eyes at tableaus she doesn’t want to look at, though I do catch her sneaking the odd glimpse at Tits’ head bobbing up and down on the treasurer’s lap. It’s not with disgust, I notice, hiding my grin, but with interest.

  I show her how to hold the cue stick, and how to sink a ball. She hits a few simple ones, jumping up and down on the spot when a ball goes into a pocket. Then the remaining balls aren’t at all well placed, and she needs help.

  Moving behind her, I lean over, my chest over her back, covering her hands with mine and positioning her so she’s got a chance of doing this right, and taking the opportunity to whisper into her ear.

  “You ever given head, babe?”

  She squeals and I wince as the tip of the cue goes into the felt, but luckily doesn’t tear it.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” I chuckle.

  “No,” she hisses firmly back.

  “No, you haven’t? Or no you don’t want to? Give me a clue here, babe.”

  She turns and licks her fucking lips. “No, I’ve never tried it.”

  Damn. “Jeez.” I reach down, needing to inch my cock over a bit to give it some space. Patsy’s eyes are watching my action.

  “Um…”

  “Fuck, woman.” I pull her into my arms. “You see what you do to me?” I take her hand, placing it over my throbbing appendage.

  “We’re in public, Lost.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ care,” I respond, almost laughing out loud taking into account what’s going on around.

  “Well I’m not getting on my knees here,” she tells me, primly.

  I, of course, read what she’s left unsaid. That she will when we get upstairs.

  My intention had been to wait until Niran, Reboot and Smoker returned, anxious to hear what, if anything, they might have found out. Now I’m torn. I’ve a woman, not just any woman, but Patsy, all but offering to suck my cock. Do I act like the MC prez and wait for my men to return? Or say fuck it, quite literally in this case?

  I’m so engrossed in the options vying for top position in my head, I totally miss the opening of the clubhouse door until my name is shouted.

  “Prez!”

  Niran’s voice is in that tone that he needs my attention now.

  “Hold that thought,” I direct at Patsy, then turn, my attention on club business now. One look at Niran’s face, and I’m pointing him toward the meeting room. “Church,” I call out.

  Dart’s gone home for the night, Kink’s probably tied up, or more accurately, has someone tied, and some of the other brothers have disappeared with the whores, but those who are still here disengage themselves from whatever, or whoever, they were doing, and follow me into church.

  Niran is so agitated he doesn’t even sit down. But he stops his pacing, places his hands on the back of the chair and leans forward.

  “Where are Reboot and Smoker?” I snap, worried we’re a member down.

  “Outside,” he informs us, brushing one of his hands over his short black hair, then, ceasing that action he slams his fist down, “with Shark. Fuckin’ Shark was there. Before he had a chance to recognise Reboot, we managed to take him down. Thought you might want words with him, Prez.”

  “Fuckin’ Shark?”

  “Shark, you sure, Brother?”

  Various loudly voiced expressions of disbelief and exclamations come from all around. As, up to now, there had been no further sightings of him, I think we’d all assumed he’d left town.

  Words? Of course I fucking want to talk to him. He was warned what would happen if he ever showed his face in the city again.

  Chapter Thirty

  Lost

  “Where is he now?” I ask Niran sharply.

  “Told Smoker and Reboot to take him to the brig.”

  The brig, named so far back no one can remember who came up with it now, is our place we take people we want to question. Vegas and Colorado have basements, Tucson their storeroom where Snake met his end, and we’ve converted and soundproofed a portioned off area at the end of our second hangar. I presume it was an old member with a Navy background who gave it the title, but whatever, it stuck.

  “Any idea what he was doing there?” Salem asks.

  At last, Niran pulls out a chair and sits down. He seems to have calmed a little, enough to explain what went down. “Reboot and I went into the restaurant, got seated. Ordered from the menu. I went to the bathroom to check the place out, but couldn’t tell much, or see anything untoward. Standard down-market restaurant, though have to admit, the food was top notch. I’m pretty certain though, if you asked to see their papers, most of the staff would magically disappear.”

  It’s San Diego. Not surprising this close to the border a business employs illegals. They can pay them far less for a start. A Mexican restaurant isn’t going to raise suspicions by being staffed by Hispanics.

  “Saw nothing that resembled a trapdoor. Of course, I couldn’t ask to inspect the kitchen or storerooms but kept my ear open. Should have taken someone who understands more than a smattering of Spanish, I suppose, but doubt they’d speak freely in any case.” Niran shakes his head. “If it’s a front, it’s a good cover. Smoker may have gotten more.”

  I hadn’t expected Niran to return saying he’d seen drugs passing hands. Drugs coming through tunnels are measured in tens if not hundreds of kilos, and not just an ounce sold by a street dealer. If drugs are coming through, they’ll be moved on. A restaurant does get lots of deliveries, boxes in, boxes out, could be a good way of getting product into the United States.

  “They do deliveries?” Grumbler asks.

  When Niran nods, Grumbler raises his eyebrow toward me. Hmm, he could be onto something. Those scooters could be carrying something other than food in those insulated boxes.

  “Where does Shark come in?” Salem rasps out, his thoughts being on our traitor.

  Niran raises his chin. “He doesn’t know me. I heard his name, but he was out bad before my time. Reboot had just been a prospect, but he’d been there.”

  Shark had been particularly hard on the prospects; it didn’t surprise me Reboot recognised him fast.

  “Shark spot him?” I need to know what damage was done. If Shark had kicked off, the restaurant would be warned, looking for a reason our members were there, without cuts, having a meal.

  “Nah. Reboot recognised him, thought fast, then positioned himself so his back was toward the man. I wanted to watch for a while. Easily saw Shark wasn’t a customer, no, he had another reason to be there. He seemed particularly friendly with the man who appeared to be the manager.”

  “Pick anything up?” Pennywise asks.

  “Couldn’t overhear. Not without making myself obvious. Shark took a pack of cigarettes out and was tossing a lighter in his hand, clearly preparing to go out for a smoke. I left Reboot where he was, told him to settle up when Shark was out of sight. I was worried about him stumbling across Smoker, so I went out the front, walked around the place and managed to find Smoker and warn him.” Niran pauses and looks around. “Lucky I did. Shark came out the back entrance when he lit up, would have walked smack into him. Smoker approached from the shadows and asked him if he could get a cigarette. Shark didn’t take much notice of a homeless man, and Smoker kept his head down. But the fucker wasn’t going to give anyone shit, except, playing the big man, dole out a beatdown on a helpless man. Played right into our hands. As he went after Smoker to teach him a lesson, I hit him over the head. He went down. Reboot joined us by then.” Niran shrugs. “Brought the truck around to the rear of the place, zip-tied him and gagged him with duct tape and brought him here.”

  “He wake up?”

  Niran nods. “Halfway back. Couldn’t do much more than thrash around. Had to stop Reboot from hitting him again. I thought you wouldn’t want him concussed, or, n
ot until we learn what he knows, and what the fuck he was doing there.”

  They’d done good.

  “Anyone see him disappear?”

  “Nah,” Niran replies to the sergeant-at-arms.

  I wonder if Shark’s disappearance will ring alarm bells. We don’t want that business getting twitchy and closing down, not until we know more about what goes on there. The fact that one of our out bad members was hanging around is highly suspicious.

  Damn it. Should I have asked more questions about Shark at the time? Tried to hunt him down? It was all too easy to accept he’d only made a fleeting visit to this town. Anyone with a brain in his skull wouldn’t stick around long, not with the Satan’s Devils’ price on his head.

  “Can’t believe how cocky that fucker is. Never fuckin’ dreamed he’d still be hanging around.” Kink, who’s walked in during Niran’s explanation and who’s thankfully left his ‘pet’ of the day behind in his room, comments. I have two thoughts, one whether he’s left the girl tied to his bed, and the second, at least I wasn’t the only one to not have paid too much attention to Shark rearing his head.

  I stand. “Not going to get answers until we’re face-to-face. Who’s coming to speak to Shark?” I’m not surprised when everyone gets to their feet. “Salem, call Dart,” I request.

  “Want everyone in on this, Prez?”

  Looking around, I count up the absentees. Scribe is missing, Keeper too. And Bones and Snips. “Yeah, tell them what’s going down.” I doubt there will be anyone who wants to miss out.

  As I walk across the clubroom, Patsy catches my eye. I detour one moment, resting my hand against her cheek. “Go to bed, babe. I’ll be awhile.”

  “You going to be okay, Lost?”

  “Sure.” For a fleeting moment I’m torn between wanting to question Shark and going upstairs with her.

  “You coming, Prez?” Grumbler pauses.

  “Yeah.” I bend, brushing my lips over the woman who’s crept into my heart. Then, knowing club business comes before getting my needs met, I match my steps to those of the sergeant-at-arms, and walk beside him to the hangar a short distance away from the clubhouse. As we proceed to the back, I take note that the custom auto-shop is starting to take shape. Workbenches and metal drawers which will contain a myriad of tools are being set up. One area is curtained off with plastic sheeting, presumably for spray jobs. Once Salem gets an idea in his head, it’s not long before he brings it to life.