Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11

by Manda Mellett

  “There’s Road.” I nod toward the man who’s walking off, as I expected, with Diva on one arm and Paige on the other. “Marvel, of course. Dollar, Shooter and Jekyll.”

  “You missed Drifter.”

  “You tried him yet?”

  She winks. “Yeah, he’s young, but he’ll learn. I think Matt will patch in soon, which will be more fresh meat.”

  There’s one other member, but neither of us mention him. There are six single men, if Matt patches in, seven, and four whores. “If more men catch the old lady bug, us sweet butts will soon outnumber the bachelors.”

  “Not enough to go around? Is that why you stay behind the bar all the time, to give us more of a chance?”

  I shrug. “Does it matter?” Paige, Diva and Pussy don’t like bartending so much, preferring to do the job they’re supposed to. But I don’t mind at all. It’s become an excuse, and if I take all the shifts, none of the girls object. Or the men. I know all their drink preferences before they need to speak. I’ve also become adept at a cocktail or two, and have the fridge stocked with wine for the old ladies.

  “Rather you than me. Hey, look who just walked in.”

  It’s Shooter. I grin. As a prospect he was given the name Spider as he was as spindly as fuck, all long skinny arms and legs. In the past three years, he’s muscled up. Like any new member brought to the table, he’d wasted no time getting to know us girls. I know only too well why Pussy’s face has lit up. He might not have the biggest cock here, but he’s certainly learned what he can do with it. Us sweet butts may have been responsible for that.

  I’m not surprised when Pussy makes a beeline for him, her hand resting on his chest. “Want some action, big boy?”

  I grin. Pussy certainly does.

  “Allie? Can you come here?”

  I glance around the room. There’s a number of men, but with Pussy, Diva and Paige tied up at the moment, if I leave my post…

  “Hound. Take over for Allie,” the loud voice bellows across the room.

  As one of the new prospects comes running over, eager to impress, I realise there’s no way I can avoid talking to the prez.

  Not that I’ve got anything against Drummer. He treats all of us girls with respect, always has, even when he’d have one, or more of us in his bed each night. Now what that man can do with his dick, well, it would put the Kama Sutra to shame, and I’m sure he could teach Casanova a thing or two. Yeah, being called to Drummer’s room, or having him take you over the pool table, wasn’t a chore at all. Even now I could get wet just thinking about it.

  All that changed when he met his old lady. If anyone had asked back then, I would have said the prez was one man who’d never settle down or be faithful, but I’d have lost that bet. Since finding Sam, he’s not once looked at anyone else. What he wants me for now will have nothing to do with his sexual appetite, that’s reserved for his old lady.

  It’s only lately I had been wondering what it must be like to have such a man focused only on you.

  “Prez? What can I do for you?”

  As I stand nervously in the doorway to his office, I remember a few years back, the answer would have involved anatomy, pussy, ass or mouth. Now I can’t predict what he’s going to say.

  Unless… There are too many whores here?

  That’s going to come. But surely, I wouldn’t be the first out. I’ve been here the longest, and am now in charge of keeping the other girls in line. But I’m getting older. Not for the first time I wonder what will happen when I’m no longer attractive. At twenty-eight, I can’t deny I have wrinkles where I had none before. Sweet butts don’t have retirement plans, and I have no idea what I’ll do when I’m no longer wanted here. It would be like being thrown out of my home all over again.

  Perhaps it’s that he’s bringing a new girl in?

  Nah, doubt it. We have enough to keep all the single men satisfied.

  “Sit down, Al.”

  He points to the chair in front of his desk, and runs his hand over his short salt and pepper beard, while staring at me with his steel-grey eyes. My hands twist in my lap when I sit, my legs cross, then uncross. I feel like a kid back at school being summoned to see the principal.

  For a moment, he lets me stew. Then he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Marvel has just been to see me.”

  Shit.

  “You got medical problems I don’t know about?”

  His question brings my head up. What does he mean?

  Oh. “No, Drummer. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “Marvel said you’re fuckin’ bleedin’ again. Same as last week and the week before that.” Drummer’s eyes narrow. “If that’s the case, I think you need a check-up, girl.”

  I press my lips together, and stare down at my hands, picking at my nails.

  “Look, Al. I respect you. Respect all the girls. I know you don’t have a written job description, but we all know what you’re supposed to do. I’m pleased with how much you work the bar, you do that like a pro, but that’s not all we expect of you.”

  I know. I’m well aware what I should be doing, but lately, it’s not what I want. I used to love being the centre of attention if only for a few hours. I loved feeling skin on skin, loved a man moving inside me, loved the power that gave me, even when the man mistakenly thought that he held all the cards. For brief moments I was in control, had him in the palm of my hand. But these last few weeks?

  “You want to leave?”

  What? No! But how do I get out of this. “Drummer, I… I don’t know what I want to do. If I left…” Where would I go? What would I do?

  “You were eighteen when you came here, Allie. I remember it well. Jill…” A look of pain crosses his face, it’s echoed on mine too.

  Jill could be a bitch, but before she’d fixated on Rock and subsequently betrayed the club, she’d been someone I called my friend, overlooking some of her bitchier moments as she’d been responsible for changing my life.

  I watch as he pulls himself back from the past. “Jill recruited you. You’ve always been a good fit with the club, and loyal too. It’s been, what, ten years now?”

  I nod.

  “Wouldn’t think the worse of you if you wanted to leave.” He stands, turns, and regards the Satan’s Devils’ flag hanging behind his desk. “Club’s changed, Al. You’ve seen that. Huh,” he chuckles, “all those years ago? I’d have laughed in your face if you’d suggested I’d find my old lady. Never thought Wraith would settle down. Rock, Blade, Peg, Slick… Christ, even Mouse. Dart and Beef have even left Tucson to be with their women.”

  “Dart and Beef are VPs now, and that’s down to you, Drummer. You raise good brothers here.” Credit given where credit due.

  A chin lift shows his appreciation for my comment. “Fact is, Allie, the chapter now has more married men than single.”

  He’s going to say what I’m dreading. “You think the ratio means there are too many whores here?”

  His eyes widen. “Fuck, no. There’d be a riot if I got rid of you or any of the sweet butts, the club can never have too much pussy. Nah, Allie. But I do want to talk about you.”

  My fingernails are fascinating me again. What would I do if he ordered me to go with Marvel? I could do it if I had to. Christ, I’ve had enough experience when I’ve not been in the mood, but somehow, the bikers have ways of turning that around. Sure, there’s been times when I’ve felt I’ve been used, but mostly I end up enjoying the experience. It’s just… If he asks me to explain, how can I?

  “You’re twenty-eight, Allie.” He states my age.

  Is he going to tell me I’m too old?

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if you see everyone around you hooking up, and want that for yourself. Thing is, girl, if that’s what you want, you’re not going to find what you’re looking for here.”

  “I’m not looking for an old man,” I lie, knowing, that’s the root of my issues.

  He shakes his head. “Brothers don’t fall for whores,
darlin’. You know that as well as I do. Problem is, we’ve all had you. Yeah, I’m not pretending to you, Sam or anyone else. I used to fuck you, and, with the exception of Joker and Lady almost everyone else has too.”

  His words are a stark reminder.

  “Drummer, I’m only too well aware of that.” I flash a brief smile, while simultaneously squirming.

  “If you want a man of your own, Allie, maybe you should leave the club.” He runs his hand over his face again. “You’ve given us ten years. You came here young, so you’re still in your prime. Be easy for you to find someone if that’s what you want.”

  My head shakes, it seems like it’s of its own volition.

  “No? Well, it has to be something else. You don’t want to leave the club, but you don’t want to fuck the brothers. Avoided them for weeks now, and, according to Marvel, you weren’t putting your heart into it for months before that.” Drummer’s eyes sharpen again. “Playing the field isn’t what you now want, is it, Allie?”

  I feel my brow crease as I look up to meet his eyes.

  “How long has it been since you fucked a brother and enjoyed it?”

  I gesture dismissively as if I have no idea.

  “I’ll hazard a guess, shall I?”

  Another rise and fall of my shoulders.

  “I’d guess it’s been six months.”

  He’s right. I can pin point the day, the hour, the very minute. At first, it hadn’t been a conscious decision, but since then, I’ve not enjoyed being with another man. When I tried, it was mechanical. Then when we got the news, I’d even felt ashamed. Maybe if I was faithful to a dream, he’d recover and live.

  “You’ve been clever, Allie. Men don’t gossip like women do, and, there’s still the other three whores around. Your excuses worked, to a point. But Marvel has reached the end of his tether with you, and others will soon too.”

  It sounds like I’ll be instructed to pack my bags. Pack up ten years of my life. Then what would I do? I’ve no skills, no education to speak of. No way of supporting myself. This time I know what would be waiting for me, so I don’t want to go back to working the streets. I just couldn’t. Desperate, I ask, “What if I just tended bar, Drummer? No need for pay, just somewhere to stay.”

  He’s shaking his head. “Nah. That won’t do.”

  “Drummer…”

  His fingers rap the table. “I’m going to tell you how it is. Then I’m going to give you a job to do.”

  “I’ll do anything Drummer.”

  “Except fuck,” he replies, drily. He continues, “I’ve seen the way your eyes light up whenever his name is mentioned. Working the bar you overhear more than you should, but we trust you, even when you lean toward the speaker when we discuss how he’s doing. You’re that eager for news, you can’t hide it.” He pauses to let it sink in how I’ve given myself away.

  An apology starts to come to my lips, but he gives me no time to speak. “The last man you willingly fucked was Truck, wasn’t it?” Without waiting for confirmation, he carries on. “Truck had just been patched in, first and only whore he ever touched was you. Then he went to California and got hurt.”

  He’s telling me nothing new.

  “We don’t know much more than Truck’s on the mend. That he hasn’t made an appearance at the club makes me suspect he’s come back a changed man.” Again his fingers drum softly. “How much do you know, Allie?”

  “I don’t know anything, Drummer,” I whisper, admitting my hopes and dreams which will never come true. “Why he affected me so much, I don’t know. But since him, and then, when we thought he could die…”

  “You wanted no one else to touch you.”

  “Stupid of a whore, right?”

  Suddenly he stands and looms over the desk. “Was I stupid, Al? Wasn’t I a whore? Christ, I’ve had more women than you’ve had men. Probably fucked more than you too. One, two, three or more in one night, individually or all together. But I’m a man, that’s allowed. The title manwhore is worn with pride, not with shame.”

  His words echo the thoughts I so often have. Why is it different for a woman? But there’s one thing he’s not taking into account. “You give me a home, feed me, and enough money for me to buy the essentials. I think that counts as being paid. And that’s the definition of a prostitute.”

  He plants that steel gaze on me, then, out of the blue, he starts to laugh. “If that’s the case, I doubt there’s a woman alive who hasn’t been paid one way or another for her services. Bought drinks, a meal. A night out. Depending how hard to get she plays it.”

  “I doubt you ever had to pay.” I give him an admiring glance. Drummer’s in his early forties, but still looks in his prime. The grey streaks in his hair not detracting in any way. And as for that body under his clothes, well, from memory I know, Sam, his old lady, is one lucky woman.

  He chuckles again. “Even a one-night hook up means opening your wallet. Can’t pick a girl up at a bar and expect her to pay.”

  But however he dresses it up, I’m a whore, and that’s going to count against me for the rest of my life. Drummer’s right. If I want to find a man of my own, I’ve got to look outside the club. Trouble is, the one man I want, though absent, is still a member.

  “You like Truck?”

  His direct question takes me by surprise. It forces the truth out of me. “God help me, but yes. I didn’t expect, Drummer… I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would affect what I do.”

  “But after you went with him, you didn’t want anyone else.”

  That’s the truth of it. I don’t understand it myself. Never expected to find a cock that I thought I could settle for. But it wasn’t his cock. It was the whole package, the man himself who came along with it. For six months I’ve yearned for something I can’t have, and I hate myself for it.

  “Okay,” he leans forward. “Truck’s back in Tucson, but he hasn’t come back to the club.”

  I’ve got eyes and ears. “He hasn’t spoken to his firefighting crew either.” I’d overheard Darcy talking to Peg.

  He winks. “Knew you heard a lot from behind the bar.”

  What can I say? People treat a bartender as if they are deaf and invisible.

  “It’s worrying. Accept that man went through something terrible, something that means he’s turned his back on all his friends, but hell, we just want him home.” Again Drummer smooths his beard. “He’s still a brother, and if he’s hurting, he needs his family around him.” He pauses, then his eyes sharpen, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. “I want you to go see him. Make him see you. Bring him back to us, Allie.”

  I stop breathing, trying to compute his instruction. “I know Sam’s tried to visit. A lot of brothers too. Peg—”

  “He won’t open the door to anyone,” he interrupts. “Just speaks through that damn intercom he’s had installed. We’ve all tried.”

  My brow furrows. “Why do you think I’ll succeed when he wouldn’t talk to you? Surely I’m the last person he’d want to see?”

  Drummer’s always been straight with me. Never straighter than now. “I’m making the assumption his cock’s still in working order. You can offer something others here can’t. So that’s your job, Allie. See him, fuck him, and bring him back to us. I’ll make it clear at church you’re no longer available.”

  I gasp at the final sentence. It’s what I wanted, but more than I expected. “Drummer, I’ll do anything you want me too. Tend bar, clean—”

  “Fuck, woman, we got prospects for that. And, if this goes as well as I hope, I think you’ll have enough on your hands bringing Truck back into the fold.”

  Twenty years in the future - Drummer

  “We patched Truck in.”

  I nod. “Even though he didn’t know how long he’d be away, or whether he’d ever come back. Fuckin’ brave man, proud to have him as a member.” I glance up at the sun, noticing the shadows from a saguaro have grown longer. “It couldn’t have been more than a couple of weeks or so
before we’d got the news he’d been injured saving a woman and child.”

  “Huh,” Peg exclaims. “Even that was fuckin’ shit. It was a woman, but not a child.” He snorts.

  “What the fuck did we know at the time? We got information second, third hand, heard nothing at all from the man. All we heard was it was touch and go for a while. I went to LA with Slade, remember him?”

  “Truck’s captain, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” I raise and lower my chin and resume, “All they’d tell us was that Truck was going to stay in the land of the living, but nothing more. When he came round he refused to see us, either together or separately. Fuckin’ hard leaving a brother alone, but what can you do if he refuses help?”

  Peg doesn’t answer the rhetorical question.

  “You tried though, didn’t you? May have had to wait until he came back to Tucson, but you had a fuckin’ plan. Like always.” He shoots me a look of admiration. “But what the fuck made you think of using a whore to get through to him?”

  Reaching out my fist, I bump him on the arm. “You might not be able to remember, Brother, but most men think with their cocks.”

  “I remember just fine,” Peg snarls. Then realises how that might sound. “And my cock’s still in full working order.” He winks. “Compensates for my missing leg.”

  Hmm. Don’t think I want to think about Peg’s cock, nor the Jacob’s ladder piercing we’ve all heard about. Over the years and more than once, I’ve had to tell Sam that no, I’m definitely not getting my fucking cock pierced. However much Darcy seems to admire what Peg manages to do with it.

  “Dad!”

  Peg holds out his arms. Lisa deviates from her direct path to the clubhouse and comes over to give him a kiss. He’s proud as punch of his daughter, as we all are of our kids. “I’ve decided what I want for my twentieth birthday.”

  “No motorcycle, hon, I’ve told you before.”

  She pouts at him. “Dad, please.”

  Peg sighs. “I’ll think about it and speak to your mom.”

  She’ll get her way, I’m sure of it. That kid has her dad wrapped around her little finger.