Devil's Dilemma: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #4

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Devil's Dilemma: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #4 Page 32

by Manda Mellett


  Pyro’s eyes narrow. “I’ll need to take this back to the club, sounds like it’s going to involve us.”

  Dad purses his lips. “I’ll need a statement, of course, that your club does not run illegal activities. The feds have ninety days from obtaining evidence to make charges against you. That time’s long past, so it’s safe to assume Skull has nothing. If they try to dispute that, we’ll point to Skull being pulled out of his assignment presumably with no results. Now that might seem contradictory, but at the time, there must have been justification for placing him in your club for such a long time.”

  “Desperation,” Pyro suggests. “They love bringing what they see as outlaw motorcycle gangs down.” I notice he almost spits out the penultimate word of his sentence.

  “Indeed. At the time, Skull was trying to infiltrate what the feds saw was an OMG. A good reminder of their terminology, Pyro. We can emphasise you’re a riding club.”

  I’ve just remembered something. “The club worked with the United States Marshals and helped bring a real gang down, when Steph was being kept alive to give evidence against the Warped Jokers. Surely that places them in good standing?”

  My dad nods. “Anything like that helps. As does what you said earlier, the Tucson chapter having good relationships with the cops.”

  Pyro chuckles. “I wouldn’t say good relationships, but yeah, they helped the cops and feds a couple of times.”

  Dad takes off his glasses, and this time, lays them down. “I’ll start preparing the paperwork. This has to be done right, Melissa, so it will take time. I’ve got to prepare you. Probably the best you can hope to get out of it is monetary compensation. Whether they keep Skull on, or dismiss him, will be down to their internal processes. You need to think about how much you want. Cases which ask for one million or less are normally settled quite quickly. We can go for more if you want.”

  “That won’t hurt Skull,” I say bluntly, “and money won’t return my lost baby to me.” I wanted to see him locked up. It appears Dad’s warning me that’s unlikely to happen.

  My father looks thoughtful. “Let me get it all down on paper and we’ll see where we can go from there. Once I’ve got all the facts straight and have completed more research, we can discuss whether Skull did anything against the law. At the moment, I can see he went against FBI guidelines, so believe all we can do is present that case to them.” He sighs. “I know what you’re thinking, Melissa, and I’d love to be able to lock Skull up behind bars, but we’re going to have a hard enough time getting any reparation as it is.”

  Beside me, I see Pyro tense. Then he turns to me and asks, “You sure you want to do this, Mel?”

  It doesn’t take me a second to reply, “I’m certain. Fighting is what I need to do. I can’t give up now. I need to know that what he did was wrong. If at the end of the day, the government pays for his crime, at least it’s an admission that what he did wasn’t right. And if I can do something to prevent the same thing happening to anyone else, that’s what I need to do.”

  Dad stays buried in his office while Pyro and I catch up with Mom. Later that afternoon we’re back in the car and returning to Pueblo. As Pyro drives I lean my head back and think over the last twenty-four hours. It hadn’t been easy at all, reliving everything, dredging it back up had been distressing. But the result is I’m feeling a little easier. I’m doing something. It might not end up with Skull in prison or even losing his job, but some recognition of the wrong that had been done to me would go a long way. I won’t let him get away unscathed, surely he’ll get a reprimand at the very least?

  Am I a cruel person to want to know what’s happening between him and his wife? How she would be able to forgive him is beyond me. She might have been able to turn a blind eye that if it was to keep him alive, he had to go with a club girl to prove he fitted in. But to start a relationship and father a baby? Surely she could never accept that.

  I hope she’s making him suffer.

  It’s what he deserves.

  Nothing will restore the baby which died inside me. But part of my fight is for him and the life he never knew. Although there’s no scientific link between the miscarriage and what Skull had done to me, no one will ever convince me that it wasn’t my distress at his behaviour and how I allowed it to affect me that caused my baby’s heart to stop beating.

  What if I’m pregnant again even now?

  Nothing could replace the child I lost, but another might fill this emptiness inside me. Pyro’s indicated nothing other than that’s what he wants too. I can’t wait to see his face light up when he sees the sonogram, this time, knowing he’ll have fathered a daughter or son.

  For the first time in weeks, I’m returning home with hope, not total despair. Allowing into my mind optimism that a future with a good man will be mine, a family, if we’re lucky, and on top of that, revenge on the man who hurt me so badly.

  Who couldn’t agree, when all the facts are known? I’d been used, abused, and discarded. I deserve justice, both for myself and my never-to-be-born child.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Melissa

  The wheels of justice grind slowly.

  A month has passed. The files have been prepared and submitted, but Dad’s had no news. Pyro’s moved in with me, claimed me officially, and I’m now in possession of a leather vest all of my own, with a Property of Pyro patch on the back. I know most people wouldn’t understand, but it makes me feel loved and protected, this visible symbol that he’s my man.

  I don’t even object to the idea of getting a tattoo, not after seeing the beautiful designs Vi does, but as there’s a tiny risk to a pregnant woman, Pyro’s declared we’ll put it off. Despite Lizard’s assurances that he makes hygiene his top priority at the tattoo parlour, and little chance of infection, it will have to wait.

  I’m not actually pregnant as yet, but it’s far too soon to be worried, and I have to admit I enjoy the trying.

  Am I getting over Skull? No, I never will completely. Pyro is a wonderful man, always taking time to reassure me, but sometimes doubts creep into my mind. I was claimed once before, didn’t stop me from being abandoned.

  I tell myself Skull had his own reasons for leaving, that they were nothing to do with me. Thing is though, I know what it’s like to have a man walk out and disappear. In the depths of the night, and sometimes during the day, I worry it might happen again. Then have to take a moment to calm down and remind myself, Pyro and Skull are two completely different men.

  When doubts creep in I hate Skull more than ever. Memories of what happened and fear that history will repeat itself is what prevents me fully trusting in my good luck now. Pyro’s arranged for me to have counselling, and I’ve been diagnosed as suffering PTSD. What the counsellor had said made sense, my expectations have been reshaped by my experiences. In simple terms, I’m now always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Pyro’s not in the club when I arrive, I tell myself it’s because he’s at work. A little voice inside worries, he might have left without a trace.

  My relief when he turns up makes me angry. I might have the right to doubt myself, but never this man who’s done nothing other than show how much he loves me and how reliable he is.

  Damn Skull to hell.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hey back at you, Ro.” I turn to greet the man who reminds me every day how I appear in his eyes. It’s the gleam of appreciation that has convinced me that what I am, he likes.

  “You been catching up with the girls?”

  “And Max.” I’ve been at the club all evening. I’d popped in to drop off a dessert I’ve made and a fresh batch of muffins and had been dragged into conversation and stayed.

  “We’re going to have a fuckin’ dog one of these days, I can tell,” he smiles.

  A puppy, yes. I’d love that. One a bit smaller than Steph’s guide dog though, and I doubt we’d have it so well trained. Both Pyro and I would be inclined to spoil it.

  “Uh oh, wat
ch out.” Pyro pulls me in front of him as though I’m a shield as Bitch walks past, her back arched and tail held high.

  Laughing I swing around. “I’ll never get over how that darn cat has all you big men so scared.”

  “I’ve got scars from that darn cat, I’ll have you know,” he replies. “Hey, Beef. Bitch got you yet?”

  The VP grimaces and rolls up his sleeve. “Tried to move her so Steph could sit down.”

  The red lines on his arm look angry and sore. I grin, wondering not for the first time how soft these men are to tolerate a cat who hates the male sex. As she’s put Max in his place more than once, I suspect it’s not just human males she hates. If they’re asked though, they say they give her room and board as she’s a good mouser. I think it’s more than that. I think it’s because like many of them, she’s a misfit with an attitude and nowhere else to go.

  “Have a good day at work?” Pyro asks, leading me across to the bar to get a drink.

  I make a so-so motion with my hand. “It was a workday, like any other.” Work was okay, it was my co-workers that were the bother, or one in particular. Having seen how much Pyro cares for me and how he’s not afraid of public demonstrations to prove it, Beth keeps trying to get herself an invite to the compound. I’ve a sneaking suspicion she’d like a biker of her own. After what happened to me, I’m not sure I should drag anyone else into this world, however wonderful I’ve personally found it. Now that I’ve got Pyro, that is.

  “Do you want to eat here tonight, or go home?”

  “Seeing as I brought dessert,” I smile, “here, I think.”

  I’m back to cooking, and the club appreciates it. So much I’m tempted to ask whether it’s me they like or what I bring for them to eat. Ink was opening my car door as soon as I pulled up earlier, but instead of greeting me, he immediately looked over into the back seat.

  “Mel, if you keep bringing this shit around, I’ll have a club of members too fat to do their work.” Demon approaches, speaking around a mouthful of muffin.

  “Led by an overweight prez,” Violet chuckles as she comes out from behind him, her hand patting what looks to me like a rock-hard muscular stomach.

  I’m just sitting down at the table to join Pyro and his brothers to eat, when my phone rings. Taking it out and looking at it, I see it’s my dad.

  “Dad, I’m…”

  “Melissa, I need to tell you something.”

  Instead of putting him off as I intended, I’m all ears. “Has something happened?”

  “Got a response. The SAC wants you to come into his office. The FBI want to talk to you.”

  I frown, and look around, noticing my side of the conversation is being listened to. “Is that a good or bad sign?”

  “Means things are progressing. They want to see you next week. You’ll need to come to Denver. I’ve cleared my calendar.”

  “I’ll be there. I can’t talk now, Dad. Just about to have dinner.”

  We say our goodbyes, and then I end the call.

  Pyro’s looking at me with his eyebrow raised.

  “The FBI want to talk to me at their offices. Dad doesn’t know if it’s a good sign or bad.”

  “Good,” pronounces Thunder who’s sitting opposite me. “It means they’re not dismissing it out of hand.

  There is a general murmur of agreement from all around.

  “I agree,” says my man from my side. “But doesn’t mean they’re not looking to find a reason to discredit Mel.”

  I straighten my back. “I’ve just got to tell the truth and be convincing.” That shouldn’t be hard. It was Skull who had to fabricate everything, unlike myself.

  “Hmm, about that truth,” Lizard starts.

  Mace throws a screwed-up piece of kitchen towel at him. “She’s not going to be telling them about the size of your dick.”

  I fall for it. “I don’t know how big his dick is,” I say, primly.

  “It’s…”

  “She’s got to tell the truth, brother,” Mace reminds him. “Very small was what you were trying to say.”

  “Whether it’s small, big or fuckin’ medium,” Pyro remarks, deceptively calmly, “my ol’ lady doesn’t fuckin’ want to know. And you, Mace, can take over for me while I’m gone. I’m going to Denver with Mel.”

  “Got a particular job on?” asks Judge.

  I tune out as they talk about an engine being rebuilt.

  Mechanically I eat the food that Vi and Steph had cooked up, musing how a blind person has become so confident in a kitchen she’s had to learn. I’m constantly admiring the way she compensates for her loss of sight by using her other senses, which includes her sharp tongue when she finds someone’s put a tin back in the wrong place. They don’t tend to repeat their mistake, but I think that’s partly to do with Beef backing her up.

  I shake my head, not fancying the tiramisu that took hours in the making, but once it’s plated up, enjoy seeing the expressions of delight as loaded forks enter other mouths instead.

  All this I take in while my mind’s whirring. I’m being given a chance to tell my side of the story.

  Pyro nudges me. “Ready to go home?”

  “I’m already nervous,” I tell him, as we walk through my front door. We haven’t yet found a house we both like, but I find it hard to think about moving with everything else on my mind.

  “Sure you are. That’s natural. But you’ve just got to tell them what went down. Facts will speak for themselves.”

  “I wish you could be with me.”

  “You’ll have your dad. And in this case, he’ll know what to say better than I would.”

  “So, I just tell the truth, huh? About Liz’s dick?” I wink.

  He launches himself forward, tilting my chin until I’m forced to look into his eyes. “That’s the last time that word linked to the name of one of my brothers comes out of your mouth, Mel.”

  “Or what?” I taunt him.

  “Or I find ways of punishing you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. On your knees, doll.”

  Now his hands are on my shoulders pushing me downward. If this is his version of a penalty, I may have to think up some other names to use.

  “Hmm,” I say as I start unbuckling his belt. “Do you think Beef’s dick is as big as everything else about him?”

  “I’ll give you a big dick, woman,” he growls. “Now get it in your mouth and stop talking.”

  But I can hear the amusement in his tone.

  Before Pyro, I couldn’t understand why any woman would want that in her mouth. But with him, I wanted to try everything. That he loved it, I knew from the first time he’d hesitantly suggested it, after he’d spent a while eating me out.

  Hiding my reluctance, I try it.

  It gives me power. Oh, he might fist his hand in my hair, but I’m the one using my tongue to pleasure him. Pyro’s a man who lets you know exactly what he’s feeling, with grunts, groans, and words of encouragement. It’s those that drive me on.

  “Darlin’, pull away now. Want to come inside you.”

  Quick as a flash he’s pulled me up and is pushing me in the direction of the couch. He leans me over the back cushions, then works my work skirt that I’m still wearing up over my hips.

  “Fuckin’ love you in skirts,” he comments, as he proceeds to yank my underwear down. In doing so, he’s folded himself, so it’s him on his knees now.

  And now it’s his tongue pleasuring me, his fingers working in tandem as he expertly brings me to the edge and soon I’m tensing and crying out.

  He kicks my legs open further, then with one hand on my back, pushes me down over the back of the couch, then positions himself and enters me from behind.

  I’m not particularly interested in who’s got the biggest, longest or thickest cock in the club, though I bet Pyro would qualify on all counts. It’s what he can do with it that matters. He pushes in hard making me gasp, then starts that rotation of his hips which makes his dick rub over exactly
the right spot. Sometimes I can now come from that alone, sometimes I need extra stimulation, but I wait for Pyro to provide it. He knows exactly what I want.

  He rubs at my clit just the way I like it and I lose it as an orgasm floods through me.

  While I’m still shuddering, I feel him swell, and then that amazing feeling of him coming inside me, I swear I sense him filling me up.

  He leans his weight over me, not pressing down, just letting me know he’s there while our lungs heave in unison. Then, I feel him slip out.

  He lifts me as if I weigh nothing, carries me to the front of the couch then sits me down. Instead of cuddling, he’s lifting my legs in the air and holding them up.

  “What are you doing?” My lips curve and I’m laughing.

  “Making sure my cum doesn’t run out.” He looks down at where my pussy is wide open to him. “In fact, you could do with a plug.”

  I don’t have to ask what he means, when he pulls me in closer and I feel his cock, rock hard once more, entering me. Another position, it’s different, he gets in deeper. Again, I gasp and writhe, as he wrenches another orgasm out of me before chasing his own for himself.

  I love every position we make love in, but this is one of the best as it allows me to watch his face contort, his eyes dilate, then the way his head goes back as he lets out a deep groan of satisfaction.

  My man has stamina. I’m not complaining.

  This time Pyro gently puts down my legs when he pulls out and reaches for one of the boxes of tissues we’ve strategically placed all around the house. Every room, every surface has a memory of him now.

  Then we’re cuddling, me held tight to his chest.

  “Fuckin’ love you, Mel.”

  “Love you too, Pyro.”

  He’s thoughtful for a moment. “Do you want me to get tested?”

  “What?”

  “To see if there’s anything wrong.” He points to his cock.

 

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