Turning Wheels (Satan's Devils MC #1): A Blood Brothers Spin off

by Manda Mellett

  It’s done, over. And I for one will sleep easier in my bed tonight.

  “I’ll send the prospects down to clean up. Blade, you stay here and watch them.” Blade throws me a chin lift; he’ll make sure the body is burned along with his cut and buried up in the forest behind us. After one last glance back at the dead man, I leave the storage room.

  Chapter 12

  Sophie

  Before my accident I used to love sex, I mean, I really enjoyed it. I suppose some people would call me promiscuous, but I’ve never seen it that way or thought it was wrong. If I saw a man I liked and believed he could give me a good time, I went for it. No one would criticise a man who acted the same way, so why should I be the one to feel ashamed? After getting burned so badly the first time I knew I would never again be in the market for a relationship, so why not get my physical needs fulfilled in different ways?

  A brief smile comes to my lips as I recall some of my experiences in rather unusual places, the illicitness of our activity seeming to fire the pleasure. The men I’d been with wouldn’t have walked away with their heads hung low, so why should I?

  But all the times I’ve hooked up with men, it’s always been my decision. A handsome man giving me a come-on, and I’d be there, but only if I wanted him to. Never has someone tried to take it from me by force.

  Since my accident all that’s changed, sex is no longer important to me, the fear of rejection dampening my libido. I know there’s no point flirting suggestively; I’m too ashamed of what my body has become. I don’t even get aroused reading my books, and the batteries on my vibrator are still as fresh as the day I put them in before it happened, before Ethan St John-Davies arranged for me to lose my leg.

  Now I’m a victim of attempted rape, saved, at the last moment by a man who says he wants me, even with my physical limitations, though I’m not sure whether I believe that, or whether he just said it to make me feel better. I spent a good part of last night sobbing into his shirt but my tears not so much down to what Buster had tried to do, instead it was that I’d been absolutely powerless to stop him. I’d had no means of fight or escape. That he had known that makes me angry―what kind of man takes advantage of a helpless woman? That he nearly succeeded makes me scared. What if it happened again? The fear which had been in the back of my mind since Horse brought me here that I was at the mercy of these tough, leather-clad men with violence running through their veins assails me.

  But what else can I do? Where could I go? There’s a bloody contract out for me so I can’t go home, and I’m not sure how safe it would be for me alone in a foreign country. As last night showed me, I can’t exactly run away if I’m in any danger. A woman in a wheelchair or even on the crutches which I’m now starting to use more regularly sticks out like a sore thumb!

  Suddenly a vision of Peg comes to my mind. Not only has he learned to walk again, but he also does so with such ease that it’s hard to see he’s got an artificial leg. I’m never going to get my leg back, but if I keep up with the exercise, I will be able to regain my independence. If I could walk properly again, it opens up a whole new world to me. And people would be less able to take advantage. Then my motivational thoughts start to fade. Whether I can walk with my prosthesis or not, I don’t wear it to bed. I’d still be just as helpless unless… Unless I have a weapon to hand. That’s what I’ve got to do, get Wraith to get me a gun, or even a knife. Something I can have close by so I’m able to protect myself. I’m sure Wraith will help me.

  The decision made my positivity returns. Electing there’s no point dwelling on what might have happened, I need to get my strength back and some form of protection so nothing of the sort can happen again. I wheel over to where my prosthesis is lying on the floor next to my crutches which Wraith had neatly grouped together after that bastard had thrown them away. Picking it up, I go back to the bed, transfer from my chair, and start strapping it on.

  It’s an hour later when Wraith returns. I’m sitting in the wheelchair, the prosthesis lying over my lap. Seeing the fresh tears in my eyes, he misinterprets them.

  “Hey, darlin’,” he rushes to my side, putting his arm around me and pulling me to him, “You don’t have to worry about him ever again, I promise.”

  Wiping my hand over my weeping eyes, I give a little shake of my head. Incapable of forming words, so instead of speaking, I pass my prosthesis over to him. My constructive thoughts of a while ago, having been totally swept away.

  He takes it from me and gives me a curious look then glances down to examine it more carefully.

  I see the exact point he realises when his eyes narrow and his lips grow thin, “Shit,” he exclaims, as he notices the crack in the socket which should form a snug fit between my stump and the device. “That fucker do this?”

  “Must have happened when he threw it against the wall.”

  I don’t have to explain what this means. I don’t have to tell him that the independence I was slowly regaining has now been lost to me. Or that I’m stuck in this bloody wheelchair until I can get a replacement. Oh, I might be able to hop short distances on one leg and my crutches, but for anything more I’ll need a prosthesis. And fuck knows when I’ll be able to get that. I don’t have to say a word; he understands without me spelling it out Wraith hugs me closer, and rests his chin on my head. After a moment he pulls away and takes his phone out of his pocket. He dials, then I hear him say, “Peg, can you come to Wheels’ room? Yeah? Great.”

  I don’t know why he’s asked the sergeant-at-arms to come to the suite, or what he’ll be able to do. And depressed as I am I don’t bother to ask.

  “We’ll sort it.” he tries to reassure me, “Don’t worry.”

  Swallowing down another sob, I cry out, “But how? We came so quickly I didn’t get travel insurance and don’t even know if they’d cover something like this if I had. I’ll need to go back to England to get a new one. And if it’s anything like the last time that will take a couple of months.”

  He tries to calm me by stroking my back, “We’ll fix this, darlin’” But I know there’s nothing he can do. I’ll have to go back to England and run the risk of Ethan catching up with me.

  Peg must have moved fast because hardly any time passes before he’s knocking at my door. Wraith goes out to meet him, taking the offending item with him. I hear deep voices murmuring, but can’t make out the words. I sit alone, rubbing my arms with my hands as if I’m cold, feeling as though I’ve lost my leg all over again. I’m still staring down, vacantly looking at nothing when I hear them come back in. Life just seems to be one blow after another.

  Walking over to me, Peg puts his hand under my chin and turns my face up to his, “Not your fuckin’ day, is it darlin’? But don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” I tell him despondently.

  “Hey,” he speaks more sharply now, “I told you we’ve fuckin’ got this. When have I lied to you, darlin’? Now pull yourself together and show me the woman who’s worked so hard to get walkin’ again.”

  The confidence that there’s something they can do and the brief pep talk he’s delivered starts lifting my spirit once again. Peg understands prostheses, “Can you repair it?” I ask, hopefully, I don’t see how, but perhaps he knows a way.

  But he shakes his head, confirming what I expected, “No, it’s important that cup is a good fit and a repair ain’t gonna cut it. That’s a pretty standard one, you’ve got anyway. We can probably do better than that.”

  “It was on the National Health.” I just took what they’d given me, of course. And at least it was free.

  “Yeah, the standard issue I expect. But I think there’s a lot more choice out there. I’ll set up a meet with the people I use and see what they recommend.” Peg’s talking about it as though it’s no problem.

  But he’s ignoring the one thing I’m most worried about, “Peg, I won’t be able to afford to replace it over here. I don’t have insurance.” I can’t see any way around i
t.

  Wraith laughs, “Hey, babe, don’t worry about that.”

  The force with which he rejects my concerns makes me look up.

  Peg’s on the same wavelength, “Reckon the club owes you a new leg. Least we can do. You are under our protection, and that motherfucker should never have gotten near you.”

  What? My mouth opens as I stare at them. Does he really mean it? I never thought for a moment they’d replace my prosthesis for me. But the thought they’ll change their minds when the realise the cost dashes my hopes.

  “In fact, I’ll go make an appointment now,” Peg says, “I don’t see that there’ll be a problem getting Drum to agree. Then, before leaving, turns to me, “Wheels, don’t worry, darlin’. We’ll sort everythin’ out for you. We’ll have you back walkin’ in no time.”

  As the sergeant-at-arms leaves the room, Wraith tells me, “Peg’s a good man. He’s battled his own demons, and I’ve watched him go through exactly what you are. And if he says you’re getting’ a new prosthesis, darlin’, just trust him to sort it out for you. Now, shall we go and see what we can rustle up for lunch?”

  I’m still mulling over them paying for a new prosthesis for me, but even if the money’s taken care off, I’ll be waiting for months if it’s anything like it was in England. Leaning forwards I put my head in my hands, wondering how this day can get much worse. Then Wraith’s words sink in. He wants me to go to the clubhouse with everyone able to see I’m missing a leg? At least with my prosthesis, I can pretend to be a whole person. “Can we just have something here?” I ask, hoping he’ll understand.

  But he doesn’t. “What happened last night ain’t on you, there’s nothin’ to be worried about.”

  So it’s down to me to explain. I lower my eyes, embarrassed, and mumble, “But everyone will be able to see…”

  The light dawns, “That you haven’t got a leg? Hell, we already know that babe. And no one’s bothered about that; I can assure you.”

  “But it’s horrible…”

  “Hey, stop that, now.” He brushes his hair back, and then stands stroking his beard. “The fact you’re missin’ a leg doesn’t define you, babe. If someone has a problem with it, then it’s on them, not you.” He moves until he’s standing right in front of me and takes both my hands in his, “You’re a beautiful woman, Wheels, just take a good look and you’ll see exactly the effect you have on me, and most of the other men here if they’re not dead.”

  Raising my eyes, his swollen cock bulging at the material of his jeans is blatantly obvious. Swallowing rapidly, my stomach clenches and I feel myself getting wet in response.

  I know Wraith would be true to his word and wouldn’t force me. Involuntarily my breathing has speeded up, and a flush has come to my cheeks. He must see how he affects me. If I told him I didn’t want him now, I’d be lying.

  Falling to his knees he curls one hand behind the back of my head, looking into my eyes, checking he’s reading me right. Satisfied with what he sees, he brings his lips closer to mine. And then waits.

  Can I? Can I risk his rejection? He might say it doesn’t bother him, but what if it does? But how can I not take the chance? I want him as much as he says he wants me, and have done, ever since I first saw him. The old Sophie would have been there weeks ago. Knowing he’s caught me with my defences down, I take the leap. Closing the distance between us, I bring my mouth to his, and move my lips gently over his.

  He takes over, applying more pressure, then murmuring, his voice a vibration I feel as well as hear, “Open for me.”

  Trembling slightly, I let him inside, tentative at my first kiss in months as though I’m a teenager on her first date. Our tongues touch, sliding and mating together. He doesn’t hurry or rush me, just lets me get used to his unique taste. His lips are soft as they brush against mine, so gentle for such a big tough man, and his beard brushes against my chin. As I breathe in his unique scent fills my nostrils, some sort of cologne mixed with motor oil, and also, strangely, an acrid lingering odour of smoke.

  He pulls me more tightly against him and deepens the kiss. My breasts brush against his chest, my nipples peaking as my arousal heightens. With one hand on the back of my head, he fists it in my hair and with his other he reaches up to caress my cheek. My arms go around him, and I hold him close, feeling the soft worn leather of his cut beneath my fingertips.

  I open my eyes to find his gazing into mine, deep brown with flecks of gold, his pupils dilated with pleasure.

  His touch is sweet, unhurried. I’m relishing everything about it. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed so tenderly before, though the tension in his body tells me he’s holding himself back. What would it be like if he released all that passion? A shiver of delight runs down my spine and my womb clenches.

  But he takes it no further. Slowly, he breaks away, nipping at my bottom lip, before removing his mouth completely from mine, leaving me slightly bereft.

  His eyes crinkle at the corners and the sides of his mouth turn up, “Now,” he looks ruefully down at his crotch where it’s easy to see his cock bulging at the denim of his jeans, “Do you still fuckin’ think I find your missin’ leg a turn-off?”

  I feel myself redden, and half turn away, “You haven’t seen it yet.”

  “Believe me, babe,” he smirks, “When I get you naked your legs are going to be the last things I’ll be lookin’ at.”

  Feeling almost inebriated, drunk on his taste I giggle, realising for the first time in months, the thought of exposing myself to a man doesn’t worry me quite so much.

  “And if we don’t get to the clubhouse, that might happen sooner rather than later, and darlin’, our first time? I don’t want to rush it.”

  “You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Now it’s his turn to smirk.

  And I have no inclination to contradict him.

  Chapter 13

  Wraith

  After a little persuasion, Wheels agrees to come to the clubhouse with me. Not too many people are around, but Carmen’s in the kitchen, so I get Wheels settled by a table, and go grab us some food. While I’m loading the plates, I feel a touch on my arm. Glancing up my eyes meet Carmen’s for an instant and see them narrow as she glares at the person behind who’s put their hand on me.

  I stiffen, and am not surprised to hear a breathy voice, “Hi Wraith, can I help you with that?” Her hand moves from my arms to the front of my jeans, and her fingers try to grasp my now, thankfully flaccid cock beneath the material. It had taken a while to go down after that kiss which, if I hadn’t already been on them at the time, would have brought me to my knees.

  Incensed, I swipe her hand away, “You do not touch a brother without invitation!” I snarl, “If anyone wants in your overused hole they’ll let you know.”

  Chrissy’s cheeks flush red, in anger or embarrassment I neither know nor care. All I want is her grubby mitts off me, and to get back to the woman I want. But as always, she doesn’t realise that I’ve had enough.

  “I’ve got two workin’ legs, Wraith. Remember what it feels like when they’re wrapped around you? The cripple can’t give you what I can.”

  My hands clench into fists before I remember that I don’t hit women, but if she carries on like this, I’ll be making an exception. Quickly spinning around I take hold of her shoulders, squeezing tight and give her a little shake, “Bitch, if I hear one more disagreeable fuckin’ word out of your mouth you won’t like the consequences.”

  Eyes filling with fake tears, she tries once more, “But Wraith, I love you. We were so good together.”

  She thinks she loves me? Christ, she’d love any brother she thought would give her the patch. And she’s set her sights on the wrong one here! “Good together? We fucked. End of story. Now if you don’t fuckin’ get lost, I’ll throw you out of the clubhouse myself.”

  With an exaggerated sob, at last, she seems to get the message and turns and walks away. I hear slow clapping behind me, and ro
tating round again see Slick standing there.

  “Bitch has got a hard-on for you, Wraith.”

  “Fuck knows why.” I tell him. “And that’s not the first time I’ve told her to leave me the fuck alone. In her head, she thinks we had somethin’ between us.” I run my hands through my hair in exasperation. I hadn’t fucked her for weeks, having run as soon as I picked up the sign she was looking to be an old lady.

  “Bitch is forgettin’ her place here. Seems like we need to remind her. Drum would fuckin’ kick her out if she tried it with him.” Shaking his head, Slick gets his phone out, checking the time. “Church in fifteen minutes,” he reminds me.

  “I’ll be there. Just give me a few to eat this.”

  Carmen walks towards me, “Tell Wheels to come in here while you’re in Church. Amy’s comin’ over shortly with Crystal. We’ll keep her company and try to take her mind off last night. I might see if she wants me to give her hair a trim, make her feel better.”

  I thank Bullet’s wife, the old ladies are a supportive lot who seem to have taken Wheels under their wing. Then, at last, I return to Wheels with her lunch happy she’s not going to be left alone to stew while I’m gone.

  “Wraith, the club whore…” Running my hand through my hair, I realise she’d seen my altercation with Chrissy and I’m going to have to give her an explanation.