Ink's Devil: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #5

by Manda Mellett

  “We’ll talk, later in the week, okay? Firm up on arrangements once we know how the weather is holding up?”

  After that we say our goodbyes, then I’m straddling my bike with a huge grin on my face. Never did I think I’d gain the affections of a woman by offering to teach her to ride a motorcycle. I’m still chuckling as I pull on my balaclava, my safety glasses, and bandana, and finally, my riding gloves. Then, with a wave at the woman who’s still waiting at the open door, ride off in the direction of the compound.

  I blow on my hands to warm them after getting off my bike, grimacing at the grit I’ve driven over, but knowing it’s better than ice. Beaver’s at the bar, I go straight over.

  “Bourbon no ice. Oh, and get my bike washed tomorrow. And on Saturday I want to borrow your Sportster.”

  “Sure.” The first request is fulfilled within seconds. Then he replies positively to the second as any good prospect should. “I’ll do it, and for the last request, can I ask why?”

  I shrug. “It’s a Sportster, isn’t it? Got someone who wants to learn to ride and thought yours would be a good one to try on.”

  If I’d thought about it, I’d have had my phone out and ready to take a picture of the expression on his face. I have to try hard not to laugh as his mouth opens and shuts a couple of times.

  Lizard has overheard, and comes over, saying into my ear, “Let’s see how much he wants that patch.”

  Beaver, though, hasn’t heard the worst of it yet.

  He looks from me to Liz, though he hadn’t heard what was said. “Who’s learning? A new hangaround?” His expression shows how little he thinks of a novice touching his ride.

  Keeping my face as straight as possible, I respond, “Nah, Beth.”

  Beaver goes absolutely still. His face slowly goes red. “That tall bitch?”

  I bristle at the term he’s used for her, though fuck knows why. Can’t blame him when I call all women that myself, though Beth’s become more elevated in my mind. My woman has a better ring to it. What the fuck am I thinking? Not coming anywhere near close to claiming her. Unable to offer an alternative description for her, I just nod.

  Lizard snorts beside me, making me look at him. He’s staring at Beaver who’s clearly not keen.

  Then the prospect lets out a defeated sigh. “She’s got the physique to handle it. As long as she doesn’t drop it or put a scratch on it, I suppose it will be alright.” He thinks for a moment. “I was actually thinking of selling it, so if she likes it, she might be interested.”

  Shit. This could work out. While I’ve been coming around to the idea of Beth riding behind me, beside me has just as good a ring to it.

  “What you thinking of getting, Beaver?”

  While Liz and Beaver discuss models that the prospect might be considering, I turn away leaning my back against the bar. Sheila spies me and sashays over. When she’s up close, her fingernails gently rake down my face.

  “Want to have some fun?”

  I remove her hand. “Not tonight, darlin’.”

  Lizard must have finished his discussion with the prospect in time to witness me sending Sheila away. “Think I’ll have me some of that if you don’t want it. You feeling okay? Or have you just been serviced in town?” His eyebrows lift up and down suggestively.

  “Yes, and nope. In that order.”

  His mouth drops open.

  We live on the wild side which means making use of the sex on tap. Not often that a brother’s not feeling it. I’m not surprised when I feel the back of his hand on my brow.

  When I slap it away, he tells me, “You feel a bit heated there, Brother. Why don’t you have a chat with Rusty? May have an infection if your cock doesn’t work.”

  He’s faster than he looks, and my fist, aimed for his stomach hits only air. Though he certainly doesn’t miss my raised middle finger as I walk off to the stairs. I hear his bellowed laughter ringing out behind me.

  For the next couple of days, I find myself in a quandary. I want to see Beth, but I don’t. Just for a fuck, of course, as I could do with one and I promised I wouldn’t go near a whore. Seeing her would ease my itch, suspecting as I do it wouldn’t be difficult to persuade her back into my bed. But meeting up again so soon might suggest I couldn’t stay away from her.

  Problem is, I’m finding it hard keeping my distance. As that’s unlike me, I do the extremely unmanly thing and take a few moments out of my day to analyse my strange thoughts.

  The night of Ro’s wedding I’d used my normal ploy, explaining to a civilian bitch that I’ve nothing to offer her except for my cock, and that she was only getting once. Beth had told me that was all she had wanted. I wouldn’t have touched her had I not believed she’d meant it.

  At the time I think we had both been completely honest, but can our wants change? Could I really yield to this craving inside me, and admit it’s her I want to see again, and for more than just to get my dick wet. Has the unthinkable happened and I’ve started to feel something other than just sexual appreciation for her? Or am I, as Lizard suggested, coming down with the flu.

  If I am skirting around the word relationship that would normally give me hives, would she be on the same page? I can’t see her as the type of woman who just wants me as a temporary fuck friend, but can I be sure? I bang my hand against my head. Christ, that would be some retribution if my feelings for her are stronger than ones she’d reciprocate. What a joke if I find a bitch I’d consider claiming, and she were to throw it back in my face?

  Surprised at the direction of my thinking, glancing downward, I check my cock is still there, and that my balls are still attached to my body. Wouldn’t surprise me with the thoughts going through my head that they’ve fallen off and I’ve grown a vagina.

  I make a concerted effort to stop thinking about her and pick up the paint gun to continue my work instead.

  Tuesday I nearly fold but, after a fight with myself, find some resolve and don’t get on my bike and ride to see her. I can’t, however, prevent myself picking up my phone and tapping out a text.

  Ink: What you doing Friday?

  Beth: Sounds like I’m seeing you.

  She got that from a four-word text? Amused, I have a vision of her giggling at her presumptuousness.

  Ink: Fucking right you are.

  Beth: Can’t wait. Oh, and go commando.

  I roll back on my bed, laughing like a loon.

  Ink: Babe, I’m not that easy.

  Beth: Yes, you are.

  I decide I can’t argue and leave it at that. Never laughed so hard at just a few line texts. Is that why brothers have hooked up with old ladies? Because not only do they make them feel good in bed, but they also brighten their lives out of it.

  Thinking of her predictably makes my cock perk up. I take myself in hand, realising it’s not just the pledge I’d made that’s keeping me away from the whores. It’s like Beth is the juiciest steak and I’ve no desire for cheap burgers anymore. Closing my eyes I summon up a vision of the only woman it seems that I want and soon I’m shooting my load, only just refraining from shouting her name out loud.

  Wednesday passes the same as any other day. I service a couple of cars, jealously eyeing the bikes Pyro’s working on, then scrub the oil off of my hands, shower, throw on a fresh tee shirt then walk into church.

  “Your dick working now?” Rusty calls out. “Heard you might have a problem.”

  “My dick’s fuckin’ fine,” I snarl back, sending a death stare toward Liz, but it only has the effect of causing him to double over with laughter.

  “Could have worded that better,” he splutters when he comes up for air.

  “Yeah, heard you have difficulty getting it up.” Mace grimaces in sympathy. “Might be your age, Leatherneck—”

  “I’m thirty for fuck’s sake, Ground Pounder.” I kick out my chair more violently than I intended, then have to reach down and pick it back up before I can sit. I decide fast, Liz is soon going to be taking his last breath.
r />   “So, what else could it be?” Bomber enquires, but he addresses his question to the rest of the table.

  Christ! Have my brothers nothing better to do but comment on the status of my dick? Which, as I told them, is working fine.

  If I admit I haven’t been using it as I’d made a promise to a particular woman, they’d never let me live it down. Briefly, I consider the idea of fucking Breezy later just to get the heat off me. I’d have no problem rising to the occasion, but I’d have Beth’s face at the forefront of my mind. Nah, I can wait a couple more days. Not fucking a whore just to prove a point to my brothers. My promise to Beth tops that.

  Comments are still flying around me. I tune them out, instead thinking of the end of the week and the possibilities. Friday we’ll fuck and Saturday, I’ll find out if she was serious about wanting to ride a bike. I’m smiling as I think of it, already knowing I’ll be proud as fuck if she ends up wanting her own.

  I’m even dreaming of her riding out beside me, when belatedly Demon, Beef and Wills walk in. The table settles down as they sit, and Demon picks up the gavel. The loud manner in which he bangs it brings my mind back to the meeting fast.

  “We got a problem,” Prez starts, getting to the serious shit immediately. Any remaining conversations come to an abrupt halt as all eyes focus on the man sitting at the head of the table.

  Mace gets out a packet of cigarettes and taking one out, lights up. Liz taps the table and gets the packet moving in his direction.

  As smoke rises, Demon begins to explain, “The group who went to Tits Up on Sunday didn’t see anything going on, but for two nights in a row now, we’ve had signs someone’s been dealing behind the strip club. Wills has chased them off, but he’s supposed to be managing the place and can’t have eyes on them all the time.”

  “Picked up nothing on the cameras.” Pal’s eyes crease. “I thought they’d gone.”

  “Nah,” Wills explains, “they set up at the end of one of the alleys, in a blind spot. I’ve taken to doing a walk around to check.”

  “Did you confront them?” Thunder asks.

  Wills shakes his head. “First night they saw me, they fucked off. Second night, all I found was a user staggering home having scored.”

  “Time?” Bomber asks.

  “Two a.m. by the time I managed to get out. Kinda got my hands full with the girls.”

  It shows how serious the situation is that no one quips a comment at his choice of words.

  “We need people there all night as back up,” Demon says. “Can’t expect Wills or Sparky to run the place and be fuckin’ night watchmen as well.”

  “We can put in more cameras,” Cad suggests. “Got a couple spare and can do it tonight.”

  “Damage may already be done. Wills has also found discarded needles in the fuckin’ bathroom.”

  Hellfire’s fist meets the table. “So, they come to Tits Up to score, then bring that shit into our club?”

  Wills nods. “That’s what it looks like. Can’t tell if it’s our regulars or visitors.”

  “Latter is more likely. Have you spoken to the bouncer?”

  “Sure have. Jake says there’s been a few new faces, but that’s not unusual. We get tourists coming in for a look around, and guys who may come once in awhile rather than often.”

  “We need to put a camera in the bathroom?” Pal asks.

  Beef raises his eyebrow at Cad. “Don’t feel comfortable with that. What’s the legal position, Cad?”

  I know Cad went into where he could place cameras when Pal and he started the security business, so I’m not surprised he has the answer at hand. “It would be frowned on as an invasion of privacy were we to simply install them, unless we suspected criminal activity going on, and drugs come under that category—more specifically drug dealing.”

  “I don’t mind what the assholes get up to,” Bomber puts in, “but it’s the needles that worry me. One of the cleaners or another customer could get stabbed by accident if they’re left lying around.”

  “That’s my issue. I wouldn’t want to think about the legal ramifications,” Wills says. “Another option is to have a Sharps bin, but that might only encourage them, and turn other people off the club.”

  “Hate fuckin’ hard drugs,” growls Hellfire. “Had a problem in this club at one time.”

  Rusty shakes his head. “That we did.” He snaps his fingers. “Brawn, wasn’t it? Nearly brought the fuckin’ club down when he had more loyalty to white powder than to us.”

  I’d heard the story as had everyone around the table. It’s been brought up as a cautionary tale should anyone ever be tempted by the easy money drug dealing brings. Too tempting for some not to sample the product, but sampling wasn’t enough for Brawn. He needed more and more and was caught stealing from the club trying to fund his habit. He’s out in the desert now, six feet of sand and rocks on top of him.

  Demon gives a sharp nod to his father. “We’ve got a reputation that we want to keep. No hard drugs on or near our club or our businesses. Weed, for sure, but nothing more.”

  “Part of the reason why Tits Up is such a success is because people know they won’t get hassled,” Rusty observes.

  “Keeping it that way is what we’re here to discuss, Brothers.” Demon takes back the floor.

  “Okay. We step up the brothers that support Will and Sparky. Stake out the alley and—”

  “I’m not fuckin’ staking out the heads.” My eyes have gone wide at the suggestion I thought Thunder was going to make.

  “Could be an education in dicks, Brother. Specially as you’ve got a problem with yours.”

  It’s only the wooden tabletop between us that stops me reaching over to throttle Lizard.

  Demon’s eyes come to me, a half-smirk half-question in them. Then he addresses Cad, “Can you get the cameras set up after church?”

  “Yeah. Club opens at eight, we’ll only need half an hour, tops.” Cad’s eyes meet Paladin’s who nods back.

  “Okay, we’ll make sure we’re finished in time.”

  “So, we catch the users. What about the dealers?”

  “We stake out the alley as Thunder suggested. Who’s up for a late night?”

  I raise my hand. Well, why not? If I’m prepared to give my life for the club, I can give it a few hours. Maybe tonight we’ll find out exactly who’s been stepping on our toes.

  Or maybe, as I find out later, it’s another bust and all I’m doing is standing around freezing my fucking ass off.

  “How you doing, Leatherneck?”

  “Probably about the same as you, Ground Pounder.” Mace is lighting up which he wouldn’t be if there was someone around, the burning orange tip would be a dead giveaway. Anyone who’s served would know not to be so careless. “No one fucking showed.”

  “Inside?” I jerk my head to the building behind me. Inside, men will be cosy and warm watching women divesting themselves of their clothes. Their dicks won’t be shrivelling because of the cold.

  He chuckles. “Pal’s probably got a new rep for having a weak bladder, he’s been to the gents that many times. But he’s seen nothing suspicious.”

  “I’ve seen nothing at fuckin’ all. Not even buyers looking to score.”

  “Which suggests they know the exact times when the dealer is around. Which isn’t tonight, Brother.” He stubs out his cigarette on his boot and pockets the end. Then he rubs his hands together. “Any idea when we’re going to be stood down? Would prefer it to be before my junk freezes and drops off.”

  I shrug in reply, not having the answer. But like him, I’m hoping it’s soon.

  Chapter Twelve

  Beth

  “Do you know where I put my…”

  Mom’s standing twirling my car keys around her fingers, she’s grinning widely.

  “Thanks.” I reach over and take them, giving her a peck on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

  She’s shaking her head. “You know Beth? I don’t know.”

/>   “That’s what moms are for.”

  She laughs exasperatedly, then asks, “I presume you won’t be back tonight?”

  Pointedly tilting my head toward the window, I roll my eyes. “Now, do you really want me driving home in that?”

  “If you stayed home, you’d be even safer,” she observes, but her lips are curved, and I know she’s just giving me shit for the hell of it.

  Since the unexpected text on Tuesday, I’ve had plenty more. Ink’s been keeping in touch which had surprised me. Not long messages, and not too many of them, but that I’d had any had given me a warm feeling inside.

  Today’s had been about changing our arrangements. It’s Friday night and he was supposed to come and collect me on his bike—the one which he’d told me he’s now modified with a double seat—but the storm that had been predicted for days has at last arrived with a vengeance, meaning there was no way it was safe for him to bring his motorcycle. Instead, I’d suggested I drive to the club, where I suspect, and hope, I’ll be staying overnight. That well-equipped room of Ink’s, hmm, I’ve been looking forward to revisiting that.

  I’m also looking forward to catching up with Vi, Steph and Jay again. Though Mel, when I’d told her I was coming to the club, had warned me about their weekend parties.

  “Sure, Mel, I know about the club girls, remember?”

  “I’m not just talking about them, Beth,” she’d told me in a serious tone that warned me I should take note. “You went to Demon’s party where outsiders weren’t allowed. Normally it’s far worse. Girls from town come along trying to snag a biker. And there’ll be different men there as well, hangarounds thinking of becoming a prospect, or those who just like the atmosphere of the club.”

  I’d shrugged. Ink will be there, and if he’s anywhere near as possessive as last time, I pity the man who tries to talk to me, let alone do anything else. I can do this.

  But it was easier when I just thought it was the bikers who I’ve already met and the women who are friendly. I push the introvert inside me back down, while wishing that Ink had been able to come to collect me so I didn’t have to walk into a room full of strangers on my own. He had offered, but it seemed a waste of time to drag him out and make him drive a hated cage.