CARSON_Satan’s Ravens MC

by Kathryn Thomas

  Ali pushes Melissa down onto a chair in front of her mirror and shrugs as she starts applying makeup. “The Dominatrix party you bailed on in second year. I figured it might come in handy on a rainy day.” She looks pleased with herself as she swipes at Melissa’s eyes with her mascara brush.

  It was hard to imagine the angelic-looking, blonde Ali as a Dominatrix, but that was only to people who didn’t know her. Melissa and Ali had been best friends since high school, housemates at college, and now they were maneuvering their way around in the real world together, at least until Ali started at law school.

  “Oh right, that’s one party I’m not sad to have missed out on.” Melissa yelps as Ali starts tweezing her eyebrows with a little more zeal than necessary. “Okay, I’ll be quiet, jeez!”

  Ali shakes her head at her and sighs dramatically. “You missed out on way too many parties, Mel. You can’t spend all your free time on those stories. You need to live a little to have something to actually write about.”

  Melissa rolls her eyes. It’s a recurring conversation between the two of them. Ali had always been the social butterfly, somehow magically able to know about all the cool parties, the best places to go out, and manage to survive on only four hours of sleep while still coming out with some of the best grades of her class.

  “Some of us actually need to sleep, Ali. Besides, it’s not like I was a hermit at college. I had my share of good times.” Melissa hears the defensiveness creeping into her tone and tries to stamp it down.

  “Hey, I know you can party with the best of ‘em, Mel.” Ali holds her hands up in surrender, not wanting to upset her best friend. “I just think you could live it up a little more, that’s all. All work and no play…”

  Ali brushes the faintest hint of blusher over Melissa’s cheeks. She had always been way better at doing her makeup than Melissa had ever been. It was their little ritual before they went out and, tonight, Ali’s skills were most definitely necessary. Melissa knows that she needs to make the best possible first impression if she wants to get in with the club. “You heard from Wes at all?” Ali’s comment pulls Melissa back from her daydreaming.

  “Not since the flowers yesterday.” Just the memory of them is enough to put her in a bad mood.

  “You didn’t have to throw them away.” Ali gives her a pointed look, but not because there was any love lost between her and Wes. “What? They were pretty!”

  “And the first ones were pretty, too, and the ones after that and the ones after that…” Melissa shakes her head, ignoring Ali’s scowl as she smudges her eyeliner. “When he came by unannounced the other night and saw his flowers sitting in the vase, it was like he figured he still had a shot. I don’t want to give him any more reason to think that.”

  “It’s almost enough to make you feel bad for the guy.” Ali shakes her head and then catches Melissa’s warning look in the mirror. “If you didn’t know he was a total scumbag creep, it would be hard not to feel bad for him. Being in love with someone who doesn’t want you pretty much sucks.” Ali speaks from experience and Melissa watches as her shoulders slump slightly.

  “Well maybe if you told Vince how you felt, he’d have some idea. The guy isn’t a mind reader!” Melissa pokes her friend gently in the ribs, glad the attention is off of her and her dysfunctional relationship with her stalker-ex.

  Ali shakes her head like she’s shaking the thought of Vince off. “We’ve known each other too long. He thinks of me like a sister.”

  Melissa stills Ali’s hands that are fiddling with her hair. “Guys don’t look at their sisters the way Vince looks at you.” She locks eyes with her friend until Ali looks away.

  “Yeah, well, tonight I get to meet girlfriend number 202.” Ali smiles but it’s more like a grimace.

  “Ali, why do you do this to yourself? Just tell him something came up and you can’t make it. Where’s the sense in torturing yourself?” Melissa squeezes her friend’s hands.

  “Because I’d rather see him than not, even if he is with another girl.” Ali shrugs and lets Melissa see the vulnerability in her eyes for just a moment before she covers it with her trademark megawatt smile. Ali was a good time girl with a brain. What most people don’t know about her is that she is also way more sensitive than anyone would give her credit for. Melissa is one of the few people who she lets see that side of her. “Now, let’s take a look at you.” Ali steps back, and signals for Melissa to stand up as she inspects her.

  “So? What’s the verdict?” Melissa shifts uncomfortably in her too-big shoes and pulls down the shorts that are too small for her. She and Ali are almost the same size but Melissa is a little taller and those couple of inches are pretty noticeable when it comes to hot pants.

  “Mission accomplished. You look like a slutty biker chick.” Aliny waves her hand as if it were a magic wand.

  “Mom would be so proud.” Melissa wipes an imaginary tear out of her eyes as they both giggle. She takes a look in the full-length mirror and barely recognizes herself. Apart from the revealing clothes, Ali has worked some kind of magic on her face, the heavy black eye makeup making her eyes look even more blue.

  “You look smoking, Mel.” Ali nods in approval behind her. “Now for the question that, as your best friend, it is my sworn duty to ask. Are you really sure about this?” She gives her a concerned look. “It’s not too late to blow it off and come check out Vince’s new girlfriend with me. Then you can tell me how she’s boring and nowhere near as pretty as me.”

  Melissa laughs and turns around to face her friend. “I don’t need to meet her to know that she’ll be boring and nowhere near as pretty as you. None of his girlfriends have even come close and you know that without me having to say it.”

  Ali smiles goofily before she heads to her closet to pick out her own outfit for the night. “It’s still nice to hear it, though.” She rummages around until she comes up with a denim skirt and cropped jumper and then pauses, looking at Melissa seriously. “This biker group, the Kings, if your Editor is even half right about the stuff they’re into, they’re dangerous. I don’t like the idea of you going into one of their bars all alone.”

  Melissa sits down heavily on Ali’s bed and a furry grey ball jumps onto her lap as if on cue. Melissa absently strokes her behind her ears. “I’m not going in there blind, Ali. Besides, you know I can look after myself and, if all else fails, there’s the mace in my purse.” They’d both gone out and bought themselves some after a rape on campus had spooked all the women at the college. “It’s my first undercover type role, the first real story they’ve given me. It’s great experience and it’ll be great exposure for me. It might just be enough to get someone at The New Yorker to publish one of my stories.” She bites her bottom lip, not wanting to think about the number of unanswered submissions she’d made to the magazine. Her mom always reminded her how busy the people were that worked there and how they may not even have gotten ‘round to reading anything she’d sent in. That was almost more depressing than the thought of an outright rejection. “You’re right. I need more life experience before I can produce something I’m proud of and this is going to give me loads of material to write about. Besides, my half of the rent isn’t just going to pay itself!” She strokes Cat’s belly as she purrs happily.

  “All right, but just promise me you’ll be careful.” Ali sits in front of the mirror, working on her own makeup now. “I know you can go all Karate Kid on them but I don’t know how useful that is against a gun or a knife.”

  Melissa holds up her hand as if she were doing the Girl Guide promise. “I promise I’ll be careful, Ali. I don’t have any plans of getting shot or stabbed tonight. I’m just going there to ask a few questions, get a feel of the place, make first contact. It’s not like I’m going to break this story wide open in one night.”

  “What’s the code word?” Ali shoots her a look from the mirror.

  “Monopoly,” Melissa replies dutifully. It was a safety procedure they’d worked out since their f
irst dates in high school. If they had any problems, like a guy was taking things too fast or if they were just having a really bad first date, they would text or call the code word and the other would come running. It was a technique they’d used more than once. They’d been through a number of different code words but had settled on “monopoly.” It was easy enough to put into a sentence but hard for anyone to pick it up for what it was.

  “Good.” Ali nods in approval before she starts changing her clothes. “Now get that furball off of my bed.” She looks distastefully at the cat Melissa had rescued from the dumpster in their final year of college. She’d called her Cat that night having watched too many Audrey Hepburn films, but she hadn’t planned on keeping her. Melissa fully intended to take her to the animal rescue but the cat didn’t seem to bond with anyone other than Melissa. She’d even given Ali more than her fair share of scratches. The only reason Ali hadn’t demanded Melissa get rid of her was because she’d controlled the mouse problem that plagued their old house.

  “Don’t listen to her, Cat. She loves you, really.” Melissa nuzzles the purring mass before she lifts her gently down to the floor. Melissa gives herself another look in the mirror. “You know it’s like thirty-five degrees out there. I’m going to freeze, but I don’t exactly have anything that works with this outfit.” Melissa chances a look at Ali who just rolls her eyes and pulls out a leather jacket from her closet.

  “It’s a loan, Mel.” Ali gives her friend a warning look knowing that Melissa has been trying to get her hands on the jacket since Ali had found it at a vintage sale.

  “Kind of like that denim skirt you’re wearing?” Melissa raises an eyebrow and Ali has the decency to blush. They were about the same size, both taller than average and slim and although they had very different styles, there were some clothes that kept finding their way into the other’s wardrobe.

  “All right, we’re as bad as each other.” Ali shoves the jacket towards Melissa who just manages to stifle a triumphant crow. “Come on, we better get a move on if we want to get slutty Cinderella to the ball.” Ali winks at her friend as she leads the way out of the room.

  “Hey!” Melissa gives herself one last look in the mirror, trying to stamp down the nerves that are making her stomach flip, before she follows Ali out. “Is that slutty in a good way or a bad way?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Standing outside ‘Durangos,’ Melissa hesitates, something she’s not accustomed to doing. But it seems as if today is going to be the first for a lot of things. She looks down at herself, feeling cold and uncomfortable in Ali’s leather get-up. Neither of them had much of an idea of how women actually dress in MC clubs, so she can only hope that they haven’t gone a little overboard.

  When they’d pulled up outside, Ali had tried one more time to persuade her not to go inside. “It looks a little sketchy.” She’d wrinkled her nose at the blacked-out windows and the line of motorcycles outside.

  “That’s kind of the point, Ali.” She smiled reassuringly at her friend and stepped out of the car, looking more confident than she felt.

  “I’ll pick you up when you’re done being Lois Lane.” Ali virtually shouts out the window and Melissa waves her away hoping that her friend hasn’t just blown her cover, but there’s no-one around to hear.

  Suck it up, Potter. It’s show time.

  She shakes off the last vestiges of nerves and feels the adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a feeling familiar from the karate championships she’s used to competing in. She takes a deep breath and walks through the door of the bar.

  Almost instantly she’s struck by the smell of pot and it catches her off guard. Melissa had only smoked a couple of tokes in college but the smell was pretty difficult to forget. She blinks as her eyes become accustomed to the low-level lighting in the bar and sweeps the room quickly, taking in as many details as she can, memorizing them to write about later. Aside from the pot, it looks like your regular run-of-the-mill hangout, the only difference being that the clientele of this place definitely wears a whole lot more leather than she’s used to seeing.

  Melissa strides confidently towards the bar and hops up on a stool, trying to ignore the fact that the place has definitely gone quiet as she’s walked in. A cursory throwaway glance tells her that a good number of the men gathered around the tables are staring at her and not all of them in a friendly way. She takes in a group of guys shooting pool and can’t help but stare at one in particular as he lines up his shot. With his snug t-shirt and perfectly fitting jeans, it’s hard not to look at him. But he’s taking no notice of her.

  She leans forward a little over the bar, trying to get the attention of the grizzled bartender who’s doing his best to ignore her. He finishes up his conversation with one of the bikers at the end of the bar and they surreptitiously exchange something between them. It happens so fast Melissa almost wonders if she’s imagining it. But the cagey look that the biker gives her when he realizes she’s watching them is enough to tell her that she wasn’t making it up.

  The bartender, however, seems completely unworried and unhurried. He makes his way over towards her in his own sweet time, looking at her with a completely unimpressed expression plastered across his face.

  Melissa swallows the sudden nervousness she feels under his glare. “Can I get a beer please?”

  The bartender huffs out a sigh as if to say that she’s wasting his time and Melissa sits up a little straighter wondering if she’s somehow managed to blow her own cover. She’s aware that she probably sticks out like a sore thumb in this place, but she’d figured that she wouldn’t get made quite so quickly. She’s only said one sentence!

  “I haven’t seen you around here before.” The bartender crosses his hands over his chest, looking her over. “You with the Kings?”

  Melissa sweeps an auburn strand of hair out of her face, stalling for time. “I’m not with anyone.” She throws him a sly smile and hopes that she looks sassier than she’s feeling. The bartender keeps looking at her, nonplussed and she feels herself getting frustrated. “So can I get a beer?” She locks eyes with him, wondering why he’s making it so difficult to order a damn drink.

  She’d been trying to keep a low profile and this protracted conversation with the bartender wasn’t helping her any. Then it occurs to her – she looks young, even DeVry had said so. She was used to being ID’d in bars. Hell, she is only twenty-two. She’d let herself get carried away, wondering why the bartender was giving her a hard time when the answer couldn’t have been more obvious. “Look, I can show you my license if you need to check I’m over twenty-one.” She reaches for her bag but the bartender waves her away.

  “That’s all right, doll. This isn’t that kind of place.” He shoots her a sly grin and grabs her beer, flicking the cap off with practiced ease.

  Melissa decides against asking exactly what kind of place ‘Durangos’ is, instead opting to take a swig of her beer for some Dutch courage. Between the dealing of whatever that was that she’d witnessed and the bar’s lax over 21s policy, it wasn’t hard to see why it was a popular hangout for the Kings. Anywhere willing to look the other way to the club’s illegal dealings would inevitably do good business with the bikers.

  The bartender is still assessing her when she puts her bottle back down. Bartenders and priests, they know where all the bodies are buried. It was something one of her journalism professors had said and it came back to her now. They see everything. People confide in them, drunk or sober. She figures it might be time to test that theory.

  “You mentioned the Kings.” Melissa watches as his eyebrows rise, but he keeps looking at her with that amused expression like he knows something that she doesn’t. “So are there any of them around tonight?” She asks the question lazily, as if it’s just idle chit-chat.

  But the bartender doesn’t seem to be fooled. He smiles at her knowingly, but there’s a little concern in his eyes. “Aren’t you a little young for this?”

  Melissa prickle
s at his words, wondering if he would ask the same question of a guy. “Young for what? Having a beer on a Friday night?”

  The bartender shrugs as if to say that’s not what he meant, but he doesn’t expand, brushing over whatever his point had been. “There are a few Kings here tonight. Anyone in particular you’re looking for, doll?” He leans back, crossing his arms again, looking like he has all the time in the world, but Melissa sees the way his eyes flick around the bar like he’s keeping an eye out for what’s going on, any possible trouble. There’s no way this guy is just an employee. The way he’s monitoring all the goings on and his proprietorial air tells her that he’s the owner.

  “Matt, when you’re done yacking, can you get me four beers and two Jacks, straight up for the boys?” A petite woman with a bad blonde dye job appears at Melissa’s corner, making her jump as she throws a tray down in front of the bartender.

  “Now, Felicia, is that any way to talk to your boss?” He jokes with her good-naturedly and just chuckles as she scowls at him.