Peg's Stand (Satan's Devils MC #6)

by Manda Mellett

  Seeing the expression on my face is serious, once the rest have piled out, Drummer opens the drawer under the table and takes out his whisky and two glasses. He pours the amber liquid out and slides one to me, and faces it head on. “What’s on yer mind, Peg?”

  I jerk my head toward the door, then take a breath. “Joker and Lady.”

  His brow creases and his hand toys with his beard. “You asking as a brother or sergeant-at-arms?”

  My shoulders rise. “Both, I think.”

  Prez nods his head slowly. “You didn’t like Lady at first.”

  Another shrug. It’s true. I took a while to warm to the man. My suspicions immediately aroused by his name. “Lady’s Man. Fuckin’ wrong handle if ever there was one.” I think for a second. “A smokescreen perhaps?”

  “Can’t dismiss a man ‘cause you don’t like his handle.”

  “Not dismissing him, Drum. He’s proved himself. Fuck, he went into the sex slave auction unarmed, put himself on the line when we were rescuing those kids. Ain’t got no problem havin’ him at my back. He might be an asshole, but he’s a brave one.”

  With one eyebrow raised and a hint of a smile curling his lips, Drum observes, “Asshole? Interesting term to use in the circumstances.”

  Normally I’d shudder, but the memory of what Darcy had done last night comes to my mind. As my cock swells at the recollection, I shift in my seat. Prez misreads my reaction.

  “What you sayin’, here, Peg? You got a problem with Joker and Lady?”

  I stare down into my glass. Club’s never been faced with this situation before. Most brothers happy to fuck whores in the open, not being shy about what they do. Never had anyone with a need to hide their sexuality before. While I’m silent, trying to analyse what’s niggling at me, Prez fills the void.

  “They’re not rubbin’ it in anyone’s faces.”

  “But they’re hidin’ it.” That’s the root of what’s bothering me. I raise my head and stare straight at Drummer. “Not sure if everyone’s clued up as to what’s going on and choosin’ to ignore it, but if Joker and Lady feel more for each other than the normal camaraderie of brothers, then we might have a problem if we don’t know to look out for it.”

  Prez, showing his normal mental agility, is quick to realise what I’m getting at. “You’re saying they’ll have each other’s backs more than ours?”

  “Could be. Yeah, Prez. Could be. And if we’re not expectin’ it…”

  He nods, completing my sentence for himself. “What if we challenge them and we’re wrong?”

  I doubt that very much, but he’s got a good point. “Look, Drum, I’ll admit it. I had a feelin’ about Lady when he first came here. Didn’t like what I saw, hate to say I felt threatened, not had something like that so close before.” I pause and try to explain myself better. “It wasn’t so much what I thought he might be, but that he wasn’t admittin’ it to us. But as I said, he’s a good brother. Love him now as much as I do anyone. It wasn’t a problem, didn’t mind a brother keepin’ something personal to himself. Until Joker and him started to get careless.”

  Prez looks like he wishes we weren’t having this conversation. He rubs his beard before stating, “If we expose them, or ask them to come clean, others might not feel the same way as you do. Hate for them to feel they have to leave the club.”

  Would it really come to that? I suppose it’s a risk, but knowing my brothers, it’s probably only a small one. “I agree. But they’re gettin’ to the point they won’t be able to hide it anymore.” I breathe in deeply, then admit, “Maybe I wouldn’t have been so quick to recognise it before I met Flash, but Joker looks at Lady the way I look at my ol’ lady, and the way you look at Sam.”

  “And Lady is the same way with him.” Prez drains his whisky and pours another. “Fuck, Peg. Why the hell did you bring this to me? Now I gotta decide what to do.” He drags his fingers through his hair, then interlocks them behind his head. “Up to now we’ve had a don’t tell policy. But you’re right. If Joker’s first thought is going to be to protect Lady, brothers need to know.” He glances my way. “They’ll have your support?”

  I don’t have to think about it. “One hundred percent.”

  Prez closes his eyes, then opens them again. “Okay. Leave it with me and I’ll think on it.”

  Chapter 20

  Darcy

  I think I’ve been grinning all the way on the drive from the compound, and I’ve still got a smile on my face as I walk into the station while mentally preparing for my shift. It’s hard to accept or understand how I’ve apparently become a biker’s old lady. Huh, my head’s spinning with the speed that everything’s happened, but Peg has literally swept me off my feet. But I’d be a fool to let a man like him slip through my fingers. Yesterday it felt so natural and so easy being with him. I hadn’t felt so good in a long time, if ever. I suppose other people would say it’s happened too quickly, but I’m so wrapped up in Peg it’s hard to get grounded.

  Sex with him, well, it’s like nothing I’ve experienced before. No wonder bikers have a reputation and women flock to their parties. Strangely, I have no concerns about Peg and the availability of girls around him. I felt gutted on his behalf when he admitted he has to deal with rejection because people can’t accept he’s lost part of his leg and know my easy acceptance of it makes me more precious in his eyes. But on the flip side, the way he copes with his disability makes him more special to me. He’s a brave man, he fought for his country, and is now protecting his club. And me.

  “So?” Truck comes in, the door of his locker banging as he opens it.

  “What?” I reply, innocently.

  “That fucking smile on your face. It’s the biker that’s put it there, isn’t it?”

  I can’t, don’t want to deny it. “Yeah, Truck. Things have got pretty heated between us. I’ll be going back again after the shift.”

  He puts stuff away, gets other stuff out, then leans back against the lockers, his eyes sharp and bright. “So, tell me more. What’s their compound like? Do they fight? Drink? Do drugs, women?”

  I want to quash some of the rumours that abound. “No, yes, no, yes.” As his eyebrow rises I continue, “The compound is amazing, Truck. Most brothers—that’s what they call themselves—have a suite to themselves, but Peg’s got two together and made himself an apartment. It’s in an amazing spot. Beautiful views and scenery.” I break off, putting it all together. “Some of them have old ladies, wives if you like, and there’s several young children around.”

  “They share their women, don’t they?” Now his eyes narrow. “You gonna be part of that?”

  “Truck!” I slap at his arm. “That’s wrong. They don’t share their old ladies.” From what I observed, all the taken men are as possessive as Peg. “But there are club whores…” My face twists. “I didn’t think much of them. They’re there for anyone to go with and get room and board in return for their services.” I think back to the almost greedy looks on the whores’ faces when the party started to get going last night, and huff a quick laugh. “No one’s forced to do anything they don’t want to.”

  As Truck has his head tilted on one side, clearly wanting me to expand, I think of how best to explain it. “Look, Truck, it’s like they’re one big family, the men, women, and the children. And they have each other’s backs, the way we are on shift.”

  He lifts his head and rests it back, then turns to me with a glint in his eyes and asks something I didn’t expect. “How do you get to become a member?”

  This I can answer. “Anyone wanting to join has to prospect for a year or more. That means they’re not in the inner circle and have to do all the shit jobs.” Like breaking my bed up and disposing of it. The memory makes me smile.

  “But what about the crimes they commit? Flash, how are you going to reconcile turning a blind eye to things that they do? Shit, you shouldn’t be involved in that, you’d lose your job for sure.”

  “Stop right there, Truck. They ru
n a clean club. Earn their money from their businesses.”

  He looks doubtful, but as Slade comes in he pushes away from the lockers, a chin lift to the captain, and a puzzled look toward me.

  Slade sees I’m not yet ready. “Better get your ass in gear, Flash.”

  Smartly, I give him a salute.

  “Cheeky bitch,” I hear from behind me as I exit the room, grinning.

  I’m the last to arrive, Hammer is already waiting, Truck’s at the coffee machine, and when I wave my hand, starts filling another cup for me. Slade takes a chair and calls us together.

  “There’s a wildland fire we’re watching up in the Coronado Forest. The one over by Snake Canyon has flared up again. Seems to be contained for now. Hopefully we won’t be needed.” That isn’t news for me, as Nicole had already alerted me yesterday. But it could get worse now we’re at the start of the likely burning period. Fires tend to spread most rapidly from mid-morning to sunset.

  “How much is contained?” I ask. Nicole hadn’t been able to tell me that.

  “Eighty percent,” Slade answers. Which means the firefighters already there have it mostly under control. “But I have to remind you all… The NFDRS rating is near its highest level. It’s been a dry winter.” I think we’re all aware of the high possibility of a serious fire as measured by the National Fire Danger Rating System.

  “Has it been closed to the public?” I ask.

  “It has now, yes. In all the high-risk areas, and some of the other hiking trails where the fuel loads are high.” Dead leaves, fallen branches, discarded trash can easily be set alight by a dropped cigarette. Or, as sometimes happens, deliberately fired. Where there’s a higher risk it makes sense to keep people away.

  Having given his update, Slade reminds us of what we already know—if we’re called up on the mountain what we’re likely to face. None of us are strangers to fighting a wildfire, but not one of us argues as we go through procedures again. Not only is it a matter of life, death, or injury to any of us, it’s vital to save people’s homes and businesses, as well as the infrastructure. An out of control fire can result in millions of dollars of damage.

  After our meeting we get a call out, quickly followed by another. It’s late evening before I have a chance to go to locker and look at my phone. As I hoped, I’ve got a message.

  Peg: Club voted yes.

  Flash: Great! :0)

  I’ve only a moment to digest the good news before the speakers start squawking again. Donning our gear, we roll out to an MVC, a two-car accident at a junction. Hammer goes to work, identifying there’s only minor injuries, and all treatable by first aid. As the police arrive and there’s nothing to do while our EMT does his stuff, I use the brief downtime to go over the events of the past couple of days in my head. I’ve been greeted by the attending police officers, two professional services sharing mutual respect, reminding me I can never let my guard down. Even off duty I’m expected to act with integrity and bring no disrespect either to myself or the service.

  Suddenly I remember what Truck said when we came on shift—that I might lose my job. For the first time I start to worry how being associated with the Satan’s Devils fits in with me being a firefighter. Peg swept me away, leaving me no time to think. I just reacted purely on emotion and jumped in with both feet. Now that his club has accepted me, my future with Peg, if I want it, is there in my grasp.

  What if I can’t have both the man that I want and have the career I’ve worked so hard for? What if I’m forced to make a choice?

  I’m so deep in thought, Slade takes me by surprise as he taps me on the shoulder. “All finished up.”

  I gaze at him while bringing my eyes back into focus. Sharp man that he is, he asks, “You got something on your mind?”

  I think for a moment. Either I hide my relationship and risk being caught, or I bring it all out in the open now and deal with it head on. I’ve never been one to back down or put off something just because it’s unpleasant, so I jump straight in. “Actually, Captain, there is. Can I have a word with you when we get back?”

  “Certainly, Cavanaugh.” His use of my surname and mine of his title serves to let us both know this will be more than an idle chit chat to pass the time.

  Back at the station house, Slade wastes no time pointing to the meeting room. I precede him in and sit down. Putting my elbows on the table, I rest my chin on my hands. When he’s seated opposite, I respond to his arched brow by laying it straight on the line.

  “I’ve got a boyfriend.” It seems a ridiculous title to give to a man such as Peg, but Slade wouldn’t understand if I called him my old man.

  “And?”

  He knows there’s more. It’s certainly not an unusual statement. Normally I wouldn’t dream of discussing my personal life at work. Well, now I’ve started, I better tell him the rest. “He’s the sergeant-at-arms of the Satan’s Devils MC.”

  Slade sits back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest, his eyes viewing me intently, his hand rubbing his mouth. After a moment to digest what I’ve said, he blinks slowly. “Fuck, Flash.” He shakes his head as though he’s having difficulty believing what I’ve just said. Then looks straight at me. “If it wasn’t serious, you wouldn’t be telling me.”

  He’s got it in one.

  I take a deep breath. “I need to know how this fits with me being a firefighter.”

  He humphs, unfolds his arms, and sits with his hands clasped between his splayed legs. “I take it this is a new relationship and hasn’t been going on for long?” When I nod, he continues, “Darcy, you’re a great firefighter and team member and a good career ahead of you, maybe promotion in the cards. You’ve been told that enough in your appraisals, and the fact that you’re meeting this head on proves your integrity to me.” He sighs. “The easiest thing for me to say is that it carries too much risk, and it’s not a commitment that’s going to have a positive effect on your position here, or your possible advancement in the service. That you should end it before it gets serious.”

  I gaze at him over my hands, which have begun to clench. While I expected it, what he’s suggesting is not as easy as it sounds. The thought of not seeing Peg again… But as I open my mouth, he holds up his hand.

  “Tell me more about this man, and what you know of the club.”

  “His name’s Peg, er, Ronnie Rinter. He was a marine, lost part of his leg in service. He’s a good man, Captain.”

  He’s nodding. “Ex-Marine? Then I don’t doubt it. But what about the club?”

  “It’s nothing like I expected. They run legitimate businesses in town.”

  “I know that. They’ve asked enough times for advice on fire regs and haven’t had any problems with us checking things out.” He’s quiet for a moment, tapping his fingers together. “Trouble is, Flash, they might present themselves as a clean club now, but weren’t always that way, and people have long memories. They keep to themselves in the main, which means no one knows exactly what they’re up to, but rumours abound.” Another pause. “I’m friends with Lieutenant Diaz in the police. Well, he told me one of his top officers, a detective, took up with a man in the club and resigned from her job.”

  Damn. “Are you saying that’s what I’ve got to do if I want to continue to see Peg?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying at the moment,” he refutes quickly. “I really don’t know what to advise you.” His fingers tap again. “Must admit you’ve caught me off guard. But I’d be wrong to say for definite this wouldn’t have any bearing on your career. I do need to consider how it will reflect on the department if it comes out. As you know, Flash, we’ve got to have the confidence of the public. People get to know who you’re seeing? Who knows how they’ll react. You have to think very carefully about what’s important to you, and while you’re doing that, try not to bring attention to yourself.”

  Have I been stupid? Been blinded by the man without thinking through what the implications of his role in his club might mean to me?
I don’t want to give him up. But neither do I want to leave my job. Can I give it some time to find out whether this thing with Peg will burn out as fast as it flared? But deep in my heart, I know that it won’t, and it may be best to end it before we both get in any deeper than we already are. The pleasure I’d felt when I started my shift disappears. I look Slade in the eyes. “I won’t do anything that’s not in the interests of the job. I need to give him up, don’t I, Slade.” But how can I do that?

  He looks up sharply. “Don’t do anything impulsive. I’m not backing you into a corner here. I’m just asking for space, so I can think what to advise you. It’s just a shame the Satan’s Devils still have the reputation they earned in the past.”

  The captain might have said don’t do anything for now, but already I feel there’s something missing at simply the thought I might have to put an end to this new, intense, relationship. The best one I’ve had in my entire life.

  It would have been easier had the remainder of the shift been busier, but for a Saturday night it’s fairly quiet, only a couple of calls to fires which are quickly extinguished. I take the opportunity to grab a couple of hours on my cot. Not that I can sleep, every time I close my eyes I see Peg, and just as he was yesterday, my body throbs as I remember the delicious things he did to me. He’s brought me to life, how could I even think of walking away? But is it worth being with him if I’m risking my job? What if I gave everything up, and Peg and I realised we weren’t going to work out? How do I know it’s worth the risk? Conscious of my teammates trying to sleep, I minimise my tossing and turning, but however hard I try to think of something else, Peg keeps invading my mind. How could I tell him it’s over before it’s started? But isn’t it best to end it now before we both get in any deeper?

  Typically, I’ve no sooner dropped off into a restless sleep, when I’m woken when we get a call from dispatch.