Grumbler's Ride: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #2

by Manda Mellett

  “Well, I think that’s about it, isn’t it?” Drummer’s amusement comes down the line. But then he adds seriously, “Sounds like you know what you’re doing Snatcher. Any word from Stormy?”

  There’s another audible sigh. “I’m starting to think he has to be dead, Drummer.” He pauses. “Fuckin’ embarrassing we can’t find him, but we’ve no leads to follow. He’s disappeared off the face of the earth.” He sounds legit in my view. It can’t be easy to admit to being a failure. But I can’t see his face, and he could be lying—hard to tell over a phone line.

  “We’ll talk next week, Snatcher. And Lost? Keep me updated. You need any help from here? You got it. I fuckin’ hate child molesters and this comes under that heading. Grumbler? You take care of your ol’ lady.”

  “She’s not my—”

  But Lost ends the call before I can finish. Seeing the look on my face, he slaps me on my back. “You might want to think about that. Can’t recommend enough what it’s like to have an ol’ lady.”

  I’ve seen enough of Mary to know if I was in the market for a woman as a permanent fixture in my life, she would do nicely, but there’s one obstacle I can’t get over—she’s too young for me. It’s not just a matter of the ten-year difference, she’s from a different generation.

  She’s youthful, energetic, while my bones creak. I don’t want to burden someone with the pains of my old age which can only get worse, not better.

  Lost’s already gone before I come back to myself.

  What do I do now? No point going to talk to Token, Lost will already be updating him. I suppose I should go and update Mary with as much as I’m able to about what’s going on. Sift through what I can and can’t tell her and somehow persuade her to stay on the compound.

  Dragging my hands down my face, I wonder how the fuck I can do that. Hopefully Patsy will have already persuaded her. I’d picked up on Mary’s discomfort as soon as we’d stepped into the clubhouse and read that she’d want to get away fast.

  I can’t tell my brothers to mind their language and behave around her, this is their home. But hopefully they’ll have the sense to step carefully, especially after what happened to Alicia last night.

  Leaving Lost’s office, I shut the door behind me.

  “Where…” I start to ask about Mary, but Pennywise catches my eye.

  “Kitchen,” he informs me, guessing the person I seek.

  Raising my chin, I go in that direction, but come to an abrupt halt before I enter, hearing some of the conversation emanating from within.

  “My first time was awful.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mary

  The clubroom, as promised, is empty of men when I tentatively follow Patsy and Eva down the staircase. Both Alicia and I trail in their wake as they lead us to a kitchen. It’s big, almost industrial.

  The name Tits is still going around my head, and I’m still wondering who and what gender the owner is. It seems I’m soon to find out.

  Apart from the appliances, some of which look relatively new, and a table able to seat about ten people comfortably sat in the middle of the room, my attention is caught by three women who Eva immediately pushes away from the stove, leaning over as though to check what’s cooking.

  “It’s for one of my casseroles. It’s going to be good.” A woman in her mid-twenties is frying up something on the stovetop. “Look, I’m doing it properly, browning off the meat first.” It’s not her cookery skills nor what she’s cooking that attracts my eyes. It’s her clothing, or lack of. Her top can only be described as a bra, and her shorts, well, they’re little more than panties.

  Eva and Patsy exchange glances and then start to quiz the woman about what’s she’s actually got going on.

  “Cindy knows what she’s doing.” Another scantily clad woman is peeling potatoes at the table. I can’t see what she’s wearing, or not, to cover her hips, but her top is a miniscule tank. She’s big boobed, too much so to go braless in my view, but she is.

  “Thanks, Tits.” The woman I now know is Cindy, glares at the other women. “At least someone has faith in me.”

  The third, who’s at least got her belly covered, if not her complete ass, as she’s wearing a clingy dress that appears to have trouble confining her breasts, also offers support. “Come on, Eva. It was only the once she gave us food poisoning.”

  “How was I to know you had to cook chicken that long?” Cindy turns, waving a spatula. “I know now, alright? And anyway, tonight’s beef. Some people eat that raw, you know.” She ends with a dismissive sniff.

  Patsy chuckles, and I swing around, wondering how the older woman can put up with half-naked women in the kitchen. For one thing, if that fat splashed out the pan, it could do serious damage to Cindy’s naked midriff.

  “We’ll just supervise, Eva. Seems like Cindy’s got it all under control.” Patsy turns to me. “These are Cindy, Tits and Pearl.” She points to each one in turn. “Along with Eva, they’re our club girls.”

  Club girls?

  Alicia, who’s been standing quiet by my side, asks me quietly, “What are club girls?”

  Seeing what they’re wearing, or not as the case may be, it’s fairly obvious. I don’t want it spelled out in front of my daughter. Eva though, she seems so normal, and is dressed conservatively. Surely, she’s not one as well?

  “We cook, clean and keep house for the men,” Eva starts, giving the others a warning look, but she’s too late.

  Simultaneously, Tits speaks up, “We’re here to service the men. In exchange, we get board and lodging, and a bit extra in our pockets each week.”

  “We service the men’s rooms is what she meant to say.” Eva casts a worried eye toward me as she tries to give what they do an innocent slant. But neither I, nor my daughter is stupid.

  I’m not sure if the look I’m wearing is more of shock or disgust as I reflect upon just what services these women offer. Does Grumbler partake? My jaw clenches as I say tightly, “Thanks, Patsy, but I think we’ll leave now.” What hit me hardest was how this sensible woman who introduced herself as a nurse is not embarrassed to own herself as one of their number.

  Is Patsy the same? I hope not. She did introduce herself as Lost’s old lady, but maybe the men here like to share? Whatever, I have to get my daughter out of here.

  It’s Alicia who tries to dissuade me. “Mom, look, Owen and Devon know where we live. I’m scared, Mom. What if they come for me? What if Owen wants to… use me again? He could blackmail me with that video. What would I do?” Her eyes again water, and I have to admit I’m scared of that too. What could two defenceless women do against two determined men?

  I don’t even own a gun. For the first time in my life, I think I ought to look into buying one. But could I shoot a man? Send a bullet tearing into flesh? If he was coming to hurt my daughter, the answer is a resounding yes. That thought makes me frown. There’s nothing I won’t do to protect Alicia.

  The desire is there, but not the ability. If I insist on taking her home, could I chance Owen wanting more? Even if he didn’t use physical violence, as Alicia had said, he could use the threat of distributing that video to God knows who.

  “We’ll go to the cops,” I decide. It’s the only sensible decision.

  Alicia looks at me, her eyes wide. She steps closer, and keeping her voice low, hisses, “That’s not your decision. Oh, you can take me there, but I’m not going to say anything. First, that would make matters worse with Owen, and second, I’m not listening to cops telling me I was asking for it. That I went knowing what was going to happen. He didn’t rape me, Mom.”

  Patsy interjects, also quietly into my ear, “How could she prove videoing it wasn’t previously agreed to? Cops might say she only withdrew her agreement after she’d spoken to you, or perhaps, just came to have regrets. If Owen maintained it was only for his own private viewing, he’s committed no crime.”

  “Statutory rape,” I tell Patsy, equally softly.

  Patsy breathes i
n deeply. “You really want to force Alicia to go through that?”

  Do I? Surely that’s the right way to go about it, to give the problem to people who know how to deal with it and get justice for my daughter. Grumbler would say I already have.

  “I’m not going to the cops,” Alicia whispers again, with fresh tears glistening. “I wouldn’t trust Owen if I got the law after him.”

  She’s made a good point. I didn’t trust him and that was before he’d violated my daughter.

  Are we safer to stay on the compound? Are my sensibilities of being alongside women who are open about the fact they are whores clouding my judgement over what’s best for my daughter?

  Am I being an old fogey? If they were dressed in everyday clothes, would I have looked at them twice? Am I too judgemental? They seem friendly enough, and if they’re not ashamed of their lifestyle, who am I to judge? I’m worried about them influencing Alicia.

  Do I doubt my parenting skills so much? Alicia’s not going to change her life’s ambition to becoming a club girl just from being around them. I brought her up to respect herself better than that.

  Perhaps, a niggling doubt assails me, I’m more concerned that these women have, and will, warm Grumbler’s bed. But why should that concern me, it’s not as if I’d want to be there instead?

  “You’re overthinking it.” Patsy again speaks into my ear, her tone amused. “I can see from the expressions going over your face. Don’t think I don’t know how you’re feeling, I came here with my son not that long ago. Some club girls can be real bitches. I’ve heard that from the women in other clubs, but the four we have here are pleasant enough, as long as they don’t think you’re going to poach one of the men and take him off the market. Believe you me, they won’t see you as a threat. In the same way as they didn’t think that of me.”

  “Because I’m old?” I admit, whispering back.

  “Hate to say it, yes. And you’ve caught the eye of Grumbler, who I’m pretty certain doesn’t take advantage of the services they provide. Not that I’ve seen in the months that I’ve been here.”

  My heart lifts more than it should to know Grumbler hasn’t, at least recently, been with the girls. But he’s a man, doesn’t mean he hasn’t. To be honest, my stomach twists at the thought. With the exception of Eva, these girls aren’t much older than Alicia.

  In honesty, I think worse of the men than I do these women. What do Tits, Pearl, Cindy and Eva get out of it? Nothing but heartbreak I’m sure. I really can’t understand Eva, who’s pretty, intelligent and has a good profession.

  Alicia takes her eyes off me at last, and goes to sit next to Tits, offering to help with her task. Cindy hands her an extra peeler, and soon she gets down to her chore, something I would have problems getting her to help with.

  “You sleep with the men in the club?” Alicia asks.

  I swallow rapidly, wishing she’d kept quiet.

  “Uh-huh.” Tits eyes come to me warily, cautious as to how much to share.

  “Don’t you feel… used?” Alicia asks, her voice husky.

  Tits puts a peeled potato aside, and her eyes steady on my daughter. “Oh, sweetie, no. We use the men as much as they use us. We have fun, they have fun. Nothing more than that.”

  “This life wouldn’t suit everyone.” Eva too sits down at the table and links her hands together. “I’m not looking for a man, so that’s why I’m here. I love the MC atmosphere, it’s like being part of a family. The brothers are good to us.”

  “What about you, Alicia? You got a boyfriend?” Cindy asks. My eyes widen, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “I thought I had,” Alicia cries out, then cries for real, tears which had dried beginning to fall once again. Before I can get to her, Eva puts her arm around her. Her warning glance at the back of the woman at the stove goes unnoticed.

  Cindy pauses cooking again and swings around fast. “What did he do? Dump you? Who do we have to kill?”

  She looks so serious, I think she’d do it, even if the spatula she’s holding right now is her only weapon.

  Patsy tugs at my arm. “What happened to Alicia is nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s the victim, that’s the only way of looking at it. Keeping it a dirty secret will only make it worse. I’m not saying tell everyone, but the women here all have their own stories. Of anyone, they’ll understand.”

  As her words sink in, I realise it’s true, Alicia has nothing to be ashamed of. She can mourn the loss of something that she’d thought she’d held precious and had given up to the right man, though in that, she was sorely mistaken. But to her there’s no blame, only that perhaps someone older would have seen through his lies. Though who would have expected to become the star of a porn show?

  “Alicia?” Eva’s softly comforting hug has at least helped her get herself back into some semblance of control. When her eyes come to my face, I ask her permission. “Can I tell them?”

  She glances at Tits who’s eyeing her with sympathy, having realised something’s seriously wrong.

  “There’s nothing you can tell us that would shock us,” Pearl speaks from the other side of the room. “And before your story starts, we’re on your side, sweetie.”

  At Alicia’s small nod, I begin with just the highlights. “Alicia met a man, he pretended to be twenty-one. Turns out he was twenty-four, and you can guess why he lied. He was a model, so again, you can imagine how he looks. They met on a modelling shoot.”

  Tits pushes aside the potatoes and puts her full attention on me. Her eyes have narrowed as though she thinks she’s got an inkling about how this story ends. Cindy turns off the burner and moves the pan away from the heat.

  I continue the story as they listen without interrupting. A few nod as they realise how Alicia was deceived. It’s when I add the part about it being filmed that their mouths drop open in shock.

  Pearl is the first to speak. “So that explains why they’re all in church on a Saturday afternoon, and the ride out has been cancelled. Don’t worry, kid. They’ll get the film deleted and will be plotting that bastard’s slow and painful death. I promise you that. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “I don’t want him to die,” Alicia wails.

  “Well, they’ll cut off his dick so he can never do anything like that again,” Tits offers in a way that presumably is supposed to be comforting.

  Cindy walks over and places her hand on Alicia’s shoulder. “Apart from the filming, for which I agree that fucker needs to die, your first time sounds okay, huh? Unlike mine.”

  “How was it?” Tits asks conversationally.

  “Fumbling under the bleachers with the school jock. Pretty cliché. Put me off sex for a whole week.”

  If hers was cliché, so was mine. It sounds almost identical. Perhaps I had something in common with her after all, though the lesson it had taught me lasted a much longer time.

  “Mine was with a man who was older, experienced, and married, though he hadn’t admitted that at the time. At least he knew what he was doing. I thought it was going to be a happily ever after.” Tits stares dreamily into the distance, then shakes herself. “I suppose I was lucky he was unavailable. As it turns out, I never want to be tied down. What about you, Eva?”

  “Virgin until I met my ex, and so was he. We were young, neither of us knew what we were doing. Oh, we had the mechanics right, we had to have done as we produced the kid. But I wondered what all the fuss was about. Took our divorce and my experimenting after to discover what sex should be. Then I found out… with a biker.” She fans her face dramatically, and the women all chuckle together. “The rest is history.”

  As they’re talking, I’m watching Alicia. Her face turns to each as they’re speaking.

  “Sex is a biological function,” Eva continues. “Society tells us the first time is something to be treasured. I’ve known many men,” she grins and then waves her hand at the snorts of the club girls in a pipe down gesture, “but never men who are particularly intent on t
aking a virgin. Well, not unless they’d behave like they’ve got the experience which is a contradiction in terms.”

  Alicia’s looking at her carefully. “You say it won’t matter? It won’t affect me if I meet the right man?”

  “Honey, if you’re worried about that, then he wouldn’t be the right man, anyway. Unless you’re looking for a religious nut. If you meet someone who prizes virginity, to be honest, if I were you, I’d run a mile. Live your life, enjoy it. In my view, God gave us sex, and it’s up to us to make the most of it.”

  I kind of agree with her view of sex and sexuality.

  “My first time was awful.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Grumbler

  Entering the kitchen, I sum up the situation immediately. The fucking sweet butts are hovering around Alicia, clearly making her uncomfortable. And those words? The last thing the poor kid should endure is hearing about the sexual exploits of the club whores.

  I take a determined step forward, my face showing my rage, when Mary’s hand lands on my arm, holding me back. When she puts her finger to her lips, she lets me know she wants me to remain silent.

  What the fuck?

  I didn’t even want Mary to meet the club girls. I had thought Patsy would have the sense to keep her and Alicia upstairs. But no, here she was, right in the thick of what is to us quite natural—girls we provide for so they in turn, can provide for us. A situation that men in an MC find quite acceptable, but one which fills most citizens with horror.

  “Go on,” Eva encourages Pearl, while I want to scream she’s to keep her fucking mouth shut.

  “I was eighteen and legal, believe it or not.” Pearl pushes away from her place against the counter and pulls out a chair. Once she’s plonked her ass on it, she continues, “I’d been friends with Frank since we were about ten and he moved in next door. As we got older, we’d called ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend. It was a Romeo and Juliet situation though, our parents never got on. Our dads clashed, and our moms snubbed each other in sympathy. So Frank and I had to sneak around. But he was ‘it’ for me, I knew it.”