Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6

by Manda Mellett

  I was a bit taken aback when Mace couldn’t resist showing him how to hotwire the variety of cars that are waiting to be fixed or serviced, not actually doing it, but pointing out where the ignition wires are in each of the different vehicles. My concerns were eased as I also heard him giving Cas a strict lecture that the kid is never to act on the new knowledge he’s gained.

  By the end of the morning, we’ve just about cleared the backlog of work that piled up when they were keeping vigil while Liz was in the hospital, or distracted when he woke up and dismissed them. I’m glad I volunteered to come in and help. I’ve really enjoyed myself and it’s been good spending time with Mace.

  Particularly as there are signs Mace isn’t immune to me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, there have been a couple of times when I’ve noticed Mace pausing whatever he was doing to stare at my ass as I leaned over an engine. It’s weird, but I don’t feel freaked out. Maybe it’s because Cas is here and Mace can’t act inappropriately, or maybe it’s down to Mace himself. Something inside made me feel powerful that I could have such an effect on him.

  My old boyfriend Rodger would be way down the scale, maybe a two or three, but as I’d no illusions I’d be more than that myself, I was happy to think we suited each other. Mace, now, he’s more than a ten. He’s off the top end of the scale. His short hair and beard frame a nicely shaped head, his features aren’t delicate or pretty, rugged I suppose, but in my eyes so damn handsome. His arms are muscular, his t-shirt clings to well defined pecs, and his arms are a canvass of colourful tattoos.

  That such a man, who women would probably die to get him just to glance their way, is staring at my ass, and, if I’m not mistaken, has to adjust himself after, is astonishing. Not that he let me get more than a glimpse of that, he’d turned fast and discreetly, his face reddening as though embarrassed. It probably matched the shade of my own cheeks.

  I should be scared.

  It’s Mace. He’d never hurt me.

  As I’m trying to work out if I’m the stupidest woman in the world not to be running a mile at the thought Mace might be attracted to me, and acknowledging I may not be totally immune to him, a phone rings interrupting my thoughts.

  It’s Cas’s. He answers.

  “Yeah, Mom… Okay… Sure, no problem.”

  “You don’t need me anymore, do you Mace?” he asks as he replaces his phone in his pocket. “Mom’s on her way back to the compound, and said she’s going to swing by and pick me up.”

  “No, that’s fine. We’re about done anyway, aren’t we, Shay?”

  I love how he shortens my name. He’s the only one who does. I nod to show my agreement. Cas has been a great help. Apart from Mace teaching him some of the basics, he’s been sweeping and tidying up. Liz should be proud of his son, he needs someone to keep him the right side of the line is all. If he’s pointed in the right direction, I reckon he’ll turn out okay.

  Mace leans against the workbench and folds his arms, his eyes on Cas. “Are you getting on any better with your Dad?”

  Instead of brushing him off, Cas impresses me, as he clearly ponders how to answer his question. His brow furrows, and his lips press together, then he gives a little shrug. “I’d hated that he’d walked out and left when I was a little kid. I couldn’t understand. When Mom had told us he’d forgotten us, I didn’t believe it. How do you forget your damn son? Then I met him and realised it was true.”

  “It must have been so hard.” I take no shame eavesdropping on the conversation, interested to hear the situation from Cas’s side.

  “You, Mace. You and the rest of my uncles,” he gives Mace a quick grin, “well, I may not have had a dad, but I had you. Then Dad came back, but again, he’s a changed man, and wants to take me away from the club and my newfound family. He doesn’t know what to do with a grown-up kid, and he still treats me as though I’m a baby.”

  “It must be difficult for him too,” I observe. “He’s probably trying too hard and overcompensating, getting it wrong when he thinks he’s doing it right. Any dad wants to have a hand in bringing up their kid, but with you, it’s been left too late. You need guidance, not a heavy hand. It’s a bit like Mace, or one of the others, meeting a woman he likes, and she comes along with a teenage son. It’s a big commitment, in many ways more challenging than taking on a baby.”

  Mace gives me a look I can’t interpret, but my attention is quickly back on Cas again.

  He sounds glum. “I’m worried we’ll just butt heads all the time.”

  I chuckle. Sounds like a normal boy of fourteen to me. “Isn’t that always the way at your age, Cas? See, I used to work with a man who had a teenage kid. He used to tell me the usual words out of his son’s mouth were ‘I hate you, Dad’.”

  “She’s right,” Mace tells Cas. “You’re still a kid, but you’re growing into a man. At your age, everyone bucks the rules: screen time when playing games, homework, curfews. Grownups still set the rules for reasons you can’t understand.”

  Cas replies sagely, “I’ve found him at the wrong time, haven’t I? If I was younger, I’d want to do things with my dad, now I’d rather spend time with my friends.”

  “You’ll find things to do with Liz that you both enjoy,” Mace predicts.

  I hope, in time, they’ll find a common interest. Bikes for a start. That’s if, of course, Liz stays with the club.

  “Cas? You here?”

  “Hi Vanna,” Mace calls loudly. “We’re out back.”

  She appears. “Hi Mace. Shayla. Is it okay if I take him now?”

  “Yeah. He’s been a great help. See you later, Cas.” Mace winks at him, then we both watch as they leave.

  “You’re good with him,” I tell him honestly as the sound of the car fades into the distance. “You got any kids of your own?”

  “Fuck no,” he says fast. “I’ve always made fuckin’ sure of that.” He looks around. “Hey, we’re about done here now. Want to go get some lunch? Be a good time to see if you like riding on my bike.”

  I glance down at the latex gloves I wear to protect my fingers from the oil and grime. “I don’t know,” I say, hesitantly, my voice quieter and less certain now Cas has gone.

  “Come on,” he encourages me gently. “I’ll keep you safe, Shay. You might find you love it. We won’t go too far as it’s your first time.”

  It’s that use of my shortened name again, sounding almost like a caress from his lips. Heaven help me, but it just does something to me. Suddenly I grin and meet his eyes, feeling a mischief I haven’t felt in so long as I tease him. “Not all the way, then?”

  He barks a strangled laugh, showing how much my bravado has shocked him.

  Is this where he tells me I’ve read him wrong? That he’s not interested in me that way?

  I’m holding my breath, not actually knowing whether I want him to slap me back down or encourage me.

  I’m not ready.

  I’ll never be.

  Then, with a cocky slant to his head as if knowing he’s trying his luck he suggests, “Maybe first base?”

  First base.

  If he’d indicated more, I’d have fled screaming. But those words suggesting he knows anything would need to start slow make me give consideration to starting this journey. With him. Only with him. A kiss.

  Lips meeting lips. Maybe arms trapping me. What if I run screaming?

  Mace is the type of man I’d have zeroed right in on if I’d met him before.

  Just. A. Kiss.

  A week, a day, an hour ago, I’d never have believed I do anything other than back away.

  What’s changed? Maybe it’s the realisation I’m not totally weak. Not when I have the power to affect this devastatingly handsome man standing in front of me.

  The question is, is he strong where it counts? Does he have command over his desires?

  I could let Major continue to ruin my future, or, I could go for what deep down I want.

  I could trust Mace.

  Ch
apter Thirty-Five

  Mace

  First base, I’d suggested.

  Too much, too soon?

  I’d got a chubby earlier from just staring at her ass. I think she noticed, yet she’s still here. Maybe she’s not offended, or worse, scared.

  What is she going to say? I wonder, as she looks away, and then toward me again. I read her face carefully. At the first sign of unease, I’ll back away fast.

  She licks her lips. Hardly daring to breathe, I take a step toward her, then another, slowly, like a cat stalking prey, not wanting to scare her away. Placing my fingers under her chin, I use the soft touch to turn her face up. “I like you Shay,” I finally admit. “Not asking for more, but I’d really like to kiss you. That’s if you want that to.”

  “Can I say no?”

  “Of course.” I’m shocked, disappointed. I’d thought I’d been making headway.

  “You wouldn’t push me for more? I don’t want to mislead you, Mace. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready for that.”

  Perhaps it’s not a no she doesn’t want to kiss me at all, but she’s just testing the waters out?

  “Shay, darlin’. I know what you’ve been through. I know you’ve still got that asshole’s name on your back. I’m so fuckin’ conscious that you never want to feel trapped again.” Seeing I’ve got her attention, I smooth my hand over my beard, while struggling to find the right words to say. “Getting a girl to fuck has never been hard for me. I don’t just mean the club girls who are there for that anyway, but my bike, this cut... Before then, my uniform and people knowing I served.” My shoulders rise, then I let them fall. “Whatever, but I could get a girl who just wanted to experience a bad boy in their bed whenever I wanted it.”

  She bristles. “You’re telling me you expect me to drop my panties for you?”

  “No,” I refute fast, seeing she’s looking like taking a step back. “I’m explaining I’ve never had to work for sex in my life. I know you’re not going to be easy. I know because of everything you’ve been through, I’ve got to go slower than I’ve ever gone before. I accept I might not even get to my destination. Whether I do or not, that’s down to you, babe.”

  “Stop, Mace.” Her head moves side to side. “I don’t know what I want.” Her arms go around her body as she hugs herself. “When I first got out, I never wanted a man to touch me ever again in my whole life, let alone talk about me in possessive tones. I never wanted him to refer to me as ‘mine’, never wanted to be someone’s again.”

  “Shay…”

  “Hear me out?” she pleads. When I nod, she resumes. “For the last few months all I was doing was existing. Trying to keep Esme and myself safe, moving around. Trying to get cash without selling my body. I had no chance to think about me, what I wanted or what my future would look like. Not a good track record is it? Staying with a man who it turns out was an ass, then being stolen by Major.”

  “Not your fault, Shayla.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Oh, fuck me. She’s got tears in her eyes.

  “Babe,” I start, but again she stops me.

  “You brought me to the compound. Made me see there was a different life. Sure, there are the club girls, but even I can see they’re here because they want to be, and the men are never cruel or hurt them.”

  I may get a twinge of guilt as the thought of ginger enters my mind. But even then, we made sure the girls enjoyed it.

  “Then there are the old ladies. They wear property patches, but they’re not owned. They’re happy, loved and seem to have the kind of relationship I dreamed of growing up.”

  I’m glad we’ve made a good impression on her. But I’ve got to come clean. “I’m not in the market for an old lady, Shay. Got to be upfront about that. But I’m prepared to work hard to help you learn to trust again. No idea where this will take us. If we ever get to that point, we might be together one night and hate each other. It might last a week, a month, hell, even a year. I can’t promise more, I don’t see myself as a forever man.” Neither did Ink, I remember quickly, and look at him now. No one could doubt his commitment to Beth. Lizard though, Liz had always vowed he’d be happy living out his days as a single man, but now he seems over the moon he’s got a family. I consider myself lucky I don’t have a wife and kid waiting in the wings.

  “You’re honest,” she tells me.

  “Could you say anything different, Shay? Do you really think you could look at a man and want him to be yours forever? Hell, I suppose I should ask whether you could ever consider having a man like me in your bed with what you’ve been through.”

  She huffs a laugh. “I doubt you need me or anyone to tell you what a handsome man you are. Add on that bad boy image,” she winks, “and I’d be crazy not to want to jump your bones.”

  “Do you?” I ask, optimistically.

  Her head tilts to one side as she stares at me. “Right now? No.” Her voice drops and becomes husky. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but out of anyone I could meet, in time, I think maybe you’d be the one who’d have a chance to persuade me.”

  I know the gift she’s giving me with those words. She’s giving me hope. Shayla in my bed? It would be a fucking dream come true.

  It’s more than her glorious ass and tits. There’s just something about this woman. Her inner strength which I doubt she recognises, the way she put the needs of a child who wasn’t hers in front of her own, the job she does so competently in a masculine world, and the way she’s come through what she has, suggests I don’t fucking deserve her. But if I get my chance, I’ll keep her for myself until whatever I’m feeling burns out.

  “So, that ride out? Lunch?” I prompt her.

  She grins. “I could eat.”

  So could I. But I doubt we’re discussing the same items I’d like to see on a menu.

  The only person I’ve taken on the back of my bike has been Cas. Seems I’m about to start making a habit of it now. I find the spare helmet he’d used, make sure it’s a comfortable fit, then lead her to where I’d parked my bike. Most of the paintwork is done now, and that stallion rearing is an incredible sight. Ink’s just got some final touching up to do.

  “Esme’s going to love that.” Shayla’s eyes open wide. I hope the kid does. Ink has done amazing work, and I’m fucking pleased with it.

  “She going to remember drawing it?” I frown, wondering if Esme will realise the significance.

  After thinking for a bit, Shayla’s head dips up and down. “I think so. But if you’ve still got her sketch, take it along, it could jog her memory if she’s forgotten.”

  After pressing the button that makes the door rise, I wheel the bike out into the sunshine. Behind me I hear shuffling and know Shayla’s slipping out of her overalls. Dragging up the gentleman from deep down inside me, I don’t turn around to watch.

  When she comes alongside, my lips curve up rather than down. She’s wearing jeans, and heavy-duty boots. What’s suitable for working on autos will certainly do for a bike. Her denim jacket will work as well.

  She sets the alarm without me reminding her, closes the door and locks it, then looks at me dubiously after I throw my leg over the bike.

  “Get on behind me, babe. Put your hand on my shoulder if you like.”

  A moment of indecision before she finally takes the plunge. The bike’s suspension dips with her weight behind me. It’s not that she’s heavier than Cas, in fact she’s lighter, but she feels different.

  “What do I do?” she asks, her tone full of concern. “Apart from trying not to fall off?”

  “You won’t fall off,” I chuckle. “Babe, just put your arms around my waist and hold tight. Then do what I do, lean with me and the bike. Oh, and mind the pipes, they’ll get hot.”

  I can feel her trembling. Whether it’s fear of the bike ride ahead or of being so close to me, I’m not certain. Hopefully she’ll become comfortable with both in a short while. I’ve got a small mom and pop place in mind as our destination. It’s far
enough for her to have a good riding experience, but if she’s not enjoying it, we won’t have too long a ride back. If she really hates it, I can summon a prospect with a cage.

  Kicking down into first gear, I gently ease off the clutch, starting off gradually. My foot returns to neutral then kicks up through the gears as I pick up speed. Her hands feel like they’ve got a death grip on my waste.

  It’s still a novelty having a passenger behind me, and I have to get used to the different handling of the bike. I take it easy, cornering slightly slower than normal, and only speeding up on the straights. Without any form of communication, I haven’t a clue how she’s taking to this, but I’m hoping she’s enjoying it as much as I am.

  Riding a bike can be lonely unless you’re with a pack. With her warmth behind me, I don’t feel alone. While there’s no way we can discuss it, she’s seeing and experiencing everything as I am. The exhilarating curves, the bumps in the slightly uneven parts of the road, and the straights where I twist the throttle and the breeze in our faces picks up.

  The wind therapy, as always, seems to heal my soul. By the time I arrive at our destination, I feel fully relaxed. I cut the engine and pat her leg, instructing her to get off, then back the bike into a parking spot. When I look forward again, I get a look at her face and frown.

  Is she traumatised?

  “Shayla?” I start, cautiously, hoping to fuck I haven’t put her off bikes for life. I rode carefully. In my head, I go back over the short journey, I couldn’t remember anything that might have scared her, but then, some people are simply worried about the vulnerability of being on a bike.

  Her mouth looks tight, her eyes are wide open. Her breath is coming a little too fast. There’s a flush to her cheeks which wasn’t there earlier.

  “Shayla?” I repeat, this time more concerned. Thinking I will have to summon that prospect with a truck to take her back, I reach for her hand, it’s trembling.