Rock Bottom

by Manda Mellett

  The VP’s still staring at me intently. “I’ll leave it to the prez. But if he wants you to give a demonstration, you’ll be doing it.” He grabs my collar. “And now, that’s who we’re going to face. Wreck, get the brothers out searching. In her state, even if she made the jump and survived she won’t have gotten far.”

  “On it, VP.”

  Prez takes the news predictably badly. He stands, leans over the table, and spits at me, “You better hope she’s found. You’ve got a fucking lot to answer for, Prospect.”

  Weighing up my chances of getting out of here alive, in my head I go over my preparations hoping they will prove to be enough. I shift from one foot to the other, trying to appear embarrassed. “Look, I did what I could. I needed a dump, man. Obviously couldn’t do it in front of her, so I got Runner to stand outside. Took me longer than expected—probably that chili last night—went back as soon as I could get off the fuckin’ can. When I heard the shower still runnin’ I got Krueger straight away.”

  “Why didn’t you go right in? Wasted precious time.”

  Krueger huffs. “Because of Hawk’s instructions that you passed along.”

  Chaos glares at the VP, then sighs. “Fucking man did this to himself with his fucking possessive instructions.” The prez passes his hand over his face, then looks at me again. “You want me to believe you spent twenty minutes in the shitter?”

  I shrug. “Had a lot to get out. Probably still smells.” I rub my stomach. “Bad business.”

  Chaos has a weird grin on his face. “Check it out, Krueger.”

  Krueger startles. “You, what…?” Then realising Chaos means what he says, he huffs loudly and disappears.

  “You better hope your story checks out.”

  Again I shrug, knowing it will. I’d emptied Becca’s bucket down the can instead of the outside drain. On top of that I’d added in some dog faeces I’d found, making sure they didn’t all flush down. And stank like hell. Wasn’t pleasant, but I’d covered my back.

  We wait in silence. It’s not long until Krueger returns looking white, his disgusted face turning toward me. “Bad fucking stomach? You didn’t even think to wash that shit away?”

  “I was in a hurry to get back.”

  “Well you better…”

  “VP!” Chaos roars. “Get one of the other prospects on it. I’ve not finished with Rock.”

  I’d rather be cleaning the heads than facing the prez, but I don’t let my preference show on my face. Instead I do the expected, and smirk.

  Krueger leaves, shutting the door. Chaos sits, leaning back in his chair, studying me very closely. “You better hope that she’s found. And quickly.”

  I decide it’s time to meet him head on. I step closer to the desk. “Look, Prez. I admit it was bad timin’. I could have alerted Krueger sooner. But how should I know what time it takes a bitch, who hasn’t had a shower in fuck knows how long, to get clean? I don’t know shit about women, I just fuck ’em.”

  His eyes seem to see right through me, but I refuse to back down. After a moment he sighs. “The only thing in your corner is that you’ve no reason to help her escape. She’s nothing to you. Nothing to anyone in Tucson. And as far as Hawk said, she’s got no access to money or friends. You want a patch, I see that hunger in your eyes. You’ve everything to lose and nothing to gain by letting her go.”

  I open my mouth, but he hasn’t finished.

  “But when we find her, and we will—she can’t have gone far—she’ll learn her treatment before was nothing. I can make her hurt without leaving a mark, and she’ll tell us exactly how she escaped. Any mention of you…”

  “There won’t be. I didn’t help her.” My lips purse, partly in an effort to stop me crossing my fingers behind my back, hoping that Wraith got her away and she’s not wandering around lost. She won’t have a chance unless she’s got to the Satan’s Devils’ compound.

  “Any mention of you, and I’ll make you wish you’d never fucking been born.”

  “If I’d helped her, I’d deserve it. But I didn’t.” I’ll surely be going to hell for all the lies I’ve been telling today. But fuck if I care. I’ve already got a room reserved for me there.

  Chaos pulls his chair back in while at the same time waving me to a seat on the other side of his desk. “I want a meeting with Drummer.”

  His sudden change of subject takes me off guard. I frown. “I don’t think I should have a hand in arrangin’ it. He wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

  “Nah. I’ll sort the deets out. But I want you there.”

  The why question must show on my face, as he answers without me asking. “We’ll let Drummer know you’ve given us all the information you have. I want to back him into a corner knowing there’s nowhere to hide.” He laughs. “Can’t wait to see his fucking face when he learns you’ve joined us.”

  Again, I suppress the question, but he answers anyway. “Fuck it, Rock. I want that compound. I’d rather have it without destroying it. And I don’t want a rival one-percenter MC, even if it is a fucking pussy one, in Tucson. I’ll get the dom on my side if I prove they’re too weak to hold a charter.”

  “Satan’s Devils have got other chapters.”

  A grin now covers his face. “Word is Red’s pissed off with Drummer for all the pansy new regs. Hellfire and Snatcher want more freedom to go their own way. And Lost, well, he’s having a hard enough time keepin’ his own chapter together.”

  Good on you, Drum. You’ve got the word out fast.

  “They won’t get support from any direction. Yeah, there’s no real bad blood. Drummer will lose the gavel, but they’ll find a place. Don’t care where, with their other chapters or setting up somewhere new. Don’t give a fuck, as long as it’s outside of Tucson.”

  I look down as though I’m thinking. “Drummer won’t think you give much weight to what I’ve had to say. I’m only a prospect.”

  “Which is why,” Chaos allows one corner of his mouth to rise up, “I’m proposing to bring you to the table. Get you patched in.”

  I grin widely, knowing I can show genuine pleasure, then grow serious, returning to the earlier subject. “And what if the girl isn’t found?”

  “Hawk’s inside for another couple of years. When he gets out, where d’you think fingers will be pointing? You’ve got two years to figure that shit out.”

  If I have my way, this mysterious Hawk won’t be a problem in two years. And I certainly won’t be a member of the Chaos Riders then. It’s not something I need to worry about.

  “Fair enough, Prez. I get my patch, I’ll help you run the Devils out of Tucson, and then that will be the time to face up to this Hawk.”

  “Fair enough,” he confirms.

  To my immense relief for both our sakes, Becca isn’t found. Search parties are sent out, but there’s no sighting, no clues. After a couple of days they turn to the hospitals, but no one resembling her description had gone to their emergency departments. While we’re still instructed to be on the lookout for her, Chaos starts focusing on other issues instead. Tipping me off that this Wednesday, my position will be discussed in church.

  I haven’t said a word to Runner or Squirt. They’ve been here longer than me and won’t take too fucking kindly to me getting a patch before them. I’d rather deal with any discontent after I’ve got a patch, as prospects are forbidden to hit a member. Yeah, I can be sneaky like that.

  I polish the bar top again, wanting an excuse to be close by should I get called into church. I don’t know how they do it here, but the Satan’s Devils call a prospect into their meeting, make him think he’s in trouble for some shit before dropping his new patch on him. Then there’s a party to welcome him into the brotherhood.

  In readiness for church coming out, Squirt is herding the women in through the door. Unlike the sweet butts back home, who’d be chattering and boasting which biker’s cock they’d be riding that night, all of these look like they’d prefer it to be none. I grimace. As a prospect I’v
e had to pretend to resent that the girls have been out of bounds. As a member, I’ll be expected to fuck them. My excuse of having Allie to go to won’t hold water. Not with this lot. I’ve heard Pistol’s got a wife, and that doesn’t stop him fucking around in the club.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I try to pick one who seems the least reluctant. Could I take her to a room, do nothing and tell her to keep her mouth shut? No, I’ve accomplished so much I can’t blow it now by trusting the wrong person. What I’m doing here is too important to my real family. I’ve got to pretend to be a good fit for this club, and that seems to include fucking in public. Hopefully once will be enough to keep up my act.

  Maybe I’ll…

  “Prospect!”

  Runner and I both jump up. King grins. “Not you. You.” He points his finger straight at me so there can be no mistake.

  “What d’you want?” I indicate the bar.

  “You. In church.”

  Grinning widely, Runner gestures cutting his throat. As I follow King, I flip him off.

  As though prepared for anything, I enter the room I’ve not been allowed in before. Unlike the Devils’ rectangular one, this table is round, and Chaos sits one hundred and eighty degrees from the door. Krueger’s on his left with Wreck next to him, and Buff sits on the prez’s right. Fester, George, Ballsy, Buzz, Pistol, and Dong sit in a semi-circle around them, and there’s one empty chair, which is now being taken by King.

  Positioning myself just inside the door, I clasp my hands behind my back and stand with my feet shoulder-width apart, my shoulders back, ready to take anything they throw at me.

  Chaos stares at me, his face unreadable. If I hadn’t had his head’s up, I’d probably be worried at this point. He leaves me to stew for a moment. When it’s becoming difficult not to fidget or react to the scowls coming my way, he clears his throat.

  “We decided it was time to get rid of that tat on your back.”

  If he’s testing me, I’ll go with it. “Sure, Prez. You want me to get it blacked out?”

  “Well, do we boys?” He throws the question around the table.

  Various responses come back, ‘fuck yeah’s and even a couple of ‘prefer to burn it off’s. I take it all stoically.

  Then, suddenly, Chaos stands and throws a handful of patches onto the table. Three in fact. The insignias for the Chaos Riders. I walk forward and scoop them up, allowing a quick smile before growing serious again, and looking each of them in the eye, tell another lie. “I won’t let you down, brothers.”

  Fester’s the first to reach me, slapping my back and pulling me close. “Knew you were a good fucker first time I saw you.”

  One by one they all do the same. Finally, it’s the officers. By the time my back’s been pummelled by eleven men I can feel a bruise forming. Chaos is the last, and after a hug he shakes my hand.

  “Meant what I said. Find someone to get that ink covered with our patch. And soon. Offends me to know it’s on you.”

  Hoping I can delay it until this mess is sorted and I’ll be once again proud to display my real colours, I just agree. “I’ll see to it, Brother.”

  “Patch party!” Yeah, some things are the same all over.

  I take my knife out of my belt and slice off the prospect patch, throwing it into the bin in passing. So fucking glad to have member’s privileges once again.

  I don’t waste time heading to the bar. Squirt has returned from wherever he was, and as I proudly wave my new patches in his direction his face goes red, pimples glowing like flaming beacons.

  He comes around the bar and gets in my face. “Why you?” he splutters. “You’ve not been here five minutes.” He points to himself. “I was the next one due to get patched in.” His finger comes out and prods me.

  Quick as a flash I grab it, bending it back near to the point of breaking it. “You don’t fuckin’ touch a member,” I remind him. “Now go shine my bike.”

  As I release him he rubs his finger, hatred still glaring out from his eyes.

  “What you still standin’ here for? I want to be able to see my face in the chrome.”

  Still he pauses, but steps back, his gaze landing on each of the other members. They all stare back impassively. If he’s prospected for as long as he says, he’ll know the score.

  Shaking off the remnants of my prospect’s demeanour, I pull myself to my full height. “What you fuckin’ waiting for?” Seeing as he’s going to get no support, he turns and sullenly leaves the room, kicking away an innocent chair as he passes. Even from here I can see his body shaking with rage. I don’t let him get away with it. “And Prospect?” I shout, making him falter. “I already know where every fuckin’ scratch and dent is.”

  As though I’ve passed another test, someone slaps my back, and another brother puts a welcome beer into my hands. My eyes remain on the now empty doorway. Speaking to no one in particular, I ask the question I’ve wondered about but never asked. “How the fuck did he get his handle?”

  It’s Buzz who enlightens me. “Those pimples of his? He likes to squeeze them. He was standing in front of the mirror, gave one a good squeeze and it squirted out all over the glass.”

  Now I wish I hadn’t asked. I really didn’t need that fucking visual.

  Thinking it might be a safer bet, I turn my attention to Runner, who answers for himself. “I was into track at school. Got the county record for sprint.”

  Yeah. That I can handle.

  Turning, I notice Fester standing with an eyebrow raised. Having heard about Squirt, I don’t want to question him.

  “Well, aren’t you going to ask?” He grins widely.

  Dong wraps his arm around my shoulder, pointing at the other member. “He lets things fester,” he informs me. “As you’ll find out if you cross him. Weeks later he’ll still remember that shit.”

  That’s enough about handles. I don’t want to know about Dong’s. As the man in question turns me to face the worn couches where the women are sitting, he smirks. “You can use the bitches now, give your right hand some fucking rest at last. There must be one your tongue’s been hanging out for. Which one is it?”

  None. But I’m not going to get away with that. “You want to share?” I know that he does, I’ve unfortunately had to witness it often enough.

  “Fuck yeah! Let’s take Vice. She can handle two men.” His arm still draped over me, he drags me over to the clearly reluctant women, looking away. Conspiratorially, he tells me, “Her cunt grips like a fucking a vice. You’re gonna love it.”

  I don’t. Taking a woman with someone other than Beef is something I’ve not done in a long while. It takes no time to get her naked—well, not with Dong impatiently ripping her clothes off—and onto the pool table then we get down to business. I soon find Dong has no sense of rhythm, just seems to race to getting himself off without a care if anyone else is coming with him.

  But nature takes its course. My cock swells at the sight and smell of a cunt, and the sensations, though I hate to admit he was right, of Vice’s muscles clamping down like her namesake, has the predictable reaction of squeezing the cum up from my balls and out the end of my, thankfully, condom-covered cock. I don’t try and hold back, just get it over and done with, hoping to cause her as little discomfort as possible.

  The sweet butts at home wouldn’t have been pleased to go unsatisfied, but she just seems relieved when Dong moves away and I roll out from under her. But the poor girl gets no relief, Fester and Pistol quickly taking our places.

  Chapter 10

  Becca

  My eyes open wide as Sam opens the door and ushers me into a large bedroom, a door off to the side leading to a bathroom. The bed is huge, but there’s still plenty of space for a couple of arm chairs, a wall-mounted TV, a desk, and small table. It’s obviously someone’s room, there are personal possessions strewn around, but it’s tidy and clean.

  Crossing to the wardrobe, Sam opens the doors. “Hmm, there’s a bit of space in here for anything you want to
hang. If I were you, I’d shift some stuff around in the drawers to free one up when you feel like it. In fact, I expect Drummer will agree to dump all these clothes under the circumstances.”

  Somebody else’s clothes. “Whose room is this, Sam?” There’s a tremble in my voice I hadn’t expected to share.

  Her eyes snap to mine and she rushes to reassure me. “No one you have to worry about. He won’t be coming back. It belonged to a brother called Rock. He wouldn’t dare show his face here. I’d put you in an empty one, but Viper’s crew are redecorating the others. Tell you what, I’ll bring up some garbage sacks and I’ll get it cleared for you.”

  No! I inwardly scream. You can’t dump Rock’s belongings. But I can’t tell her that, or why. “It’s fine, Sam. I’ll just move stuff around. Don’t bother to rush on my account.”

  “Hmm. Well, the sheets are clean. Got the prospect to do that while you were in with Doc.”

  I wish he hadn’t bothered. To sleep with the scent of Rock on the bedclothes… What on earth am I thinking? I used to hate Hawk’s masculine perfume left on the bed. Why is the thought of the smell of a strange man so enticing?

  Rock’s room. I admit, without understanding why, there’s a kind of comfort in my new accommodation. But what happens when he comes back? That I can’t ask her. I’m not supposed to let anyone even suspect I know who Rock is, let alone that he will be using these clothes again. I settle for an innocent comment. “Are you sure this Rock won’t mind?”

  Her face scrunches in displeasure. “He’s not in a position to complain.”

  Oh, Rock. They have no idea what you’re doing for this club. My heart bleeds for the man who they owe so much to, yet don’t know it. Her reaction has re-emphasised, however much I’d like it to be different, keeping my mouth shut is imperative.

  She crosses to the bed and examines me. “What do you want to do now, Becca? I can tell you’re exhausted, but you must have had enough of being cooped up. Do you want to stay in this room, or would you prefer to come down to the clubhouse to eat? Either way’s fine. It’s no trouble to get something sent up.” Her eyes narrow as she looks at my clothing, then indicates a chair. “The other girls sorted some clothes out for you. Might not be a great fit, but tomorrow I can go down to Tucson if you’d like, pick up some other stuff. You’ll just have to tell me what you want.”