Truck Stopped: Satan's Devils MC #11

by Manda Mellett

  “This club is a family.” Drummer’s eyes sharpen. “Never thought it would turn out this way, but I can’t feel the change is anything but for the better. Anyone having a problem with it can put in for a transfer.”

  There’s silence around the table, then, surprisingly, it’s Drifter who speaks up. “I, for one, like the atmosphere here. I’ve no other family.”

  The nods confirm that’s the way everyone’s thinking.

  “Any other business? No? Then let’s get out of here.” Drummer bangs the gavel for the last time.

  Brothers might have collected old ladies, but that doesn’t stop them heading for the bar after church lets out. The only noticeable change is that many of their old ladies are waiting for them, some cradling babies in their arms, others have toddlers hanging onto their hands.

  Drummer picks Eli up and swings him around, then settles him on his hip as he asks Allie for a whiskey. His three-year-old son who’s already showing he’s bright as a button, and takes after his dad rather than his mom, catches sight of me and stares, then his forefinger points my way.

  Drummer catches hold of it and turning to see what he’s indicated, barks a laugh. Yeah, that kid is fascinated with my fake eye. Doubt he’d be too upset if I removed it. I wink toward the prez to show him I really don’t mind.

  I glance around the room, trying to spot the prez’s old lady. Ah, there she is. She’s got Zane balanced on one arm, and in the other, something she’s holding discreetly. I beam and nod.

  Drummer turns as she makes her way over, as if he’s sensed her entering the room. Even with both carrying one of their kids, they still manage to give each other an X-rated kiss, though the only part of their bodies touching is their mouths. I notice Allie watching me from behind the bar, and we share a secret smile. I know what she’s thinking as we’ve discussed it. Kids have their place, though they must put a damper on some activities.

  When she finally breaks away from her man, Sam hands me the bag with a big smile.

  Prez hollers, his loud voice from close by making me jump, the thunderous shout managing to get everyone’s attention.

  Tommy, standing by Tash, puts his hands over his ears, but looks interested rather than upset.

  Once there’s quiet, Prez starts, “Don’t usually need much encouragement to have a celebration, but today I think definitely counts. First, Truck’s been back a week, and it seems that he’s here for good.”

  I am, though I haven’t formally said it. But having been enfolded back into my brother’s arms, this is definitely where I’m staying. Riding a bike? Well, I’m determined I’m going to be able to do it.

  “And the second thing is we’ve just taken a vote in church, and it’s up to Truck to tell you the consequences.”

  At any other time I’d hate all the attention on me, everyone staring at my scarred face. But apart from Eli who’s still fixated on my left eye, all the expressions are of expectation. Road gives me a thumbs up.

  I clear my throat, then make my announcement. “I’m claiming Allie as my old lady.” When I stretch out my hand, she takes her cue and steps from behind the bar.

  I hand the bag to her, she opens it and looks inside. Her face, well, it’s hard to describe which emotion is foremost. Her eyes leak tears, though she’s trying hard not to cry. Her head is shaking but her mouth is turned up in a huge smile.

  There’s a tremor in her hands as she removes the vest, turning it over reverently in her hands as though to check the words are there, “Property of Truck.”

  “Hey congratulations, Brother!”

  “Yay!” yells Tommy, though I wonder if he realises what the fuss is about.

  As shouts of goodwill sound around us, I only have eyes for the woman I’ve just made mine. For a moment wondering whether now it’s public, she’s having second thoughts. She’s gone still, like a statue. When she does move, it’s to throw herself into my arms, tears winning out as she sobs against my chest.

  “Hey, darlin’, I thought you’d be happy.”

  “I, I,” she sobs. “I am. I’m the happiest woman alive.”

  As conversations start around me, I raise her chin with my fingertips. “So why the tears?”

  Flicking her eyes around the clubroom, she enlightens me, “I prepared myself that they wouldn’t vote yes. I’m…”

  “Whatever you were,” I say, almost harshly, “doesn’t matter. You’re mine, now. I’m never going to let anything hurt you, Al. Never, I swear. You come first in my life.”

  She wipes her hand over her eyes, trying to dry them. She takes a few deep breaths to bring herself under control, then, when she can speak evenly once again, a grin rearranges her features.

  “I come first? After the club, your bike and your cut, you mean.”

  I toss my head back and roar with laughter, getting a few curious glances thrown our way. “See,” I bend down to tell her, “you’re the perfect ol’ lady. Even got my priorities right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Allie…

  Truck takes my soft leather vest out of my hands and holds it while I put it on. The enormity of this moment is what had had me in tears, not any doubts about my man.

  I’d been a sweet butt for ten years. I know how unlikely it is for a whore to become an old lady. For the vast majority of the time I was a working girl, I couldn’t see myself settling down with just one man. Sure, a couple of the men I didn’t take to as much as the others, and while Dollar is a good man outside the bedroom, I never enjoyed catering to his specific needs, but in general, I enjoyed having sex with them.

  For certain there were times when I was used and pleasure wasn’t reciprocated, but on sufficient occasions I enjoyed the experience enough to carry on.

  It wasn’t until Truck spoiled me for other men, that I found no one else could hold a candle to him.

  To be standing here wearing his property cut is something I never thought would happen. Never dreamed of being a biker’s one and only.

  “Can’t wait to see you with only that on.”

  In his hoarse whisper I hear a tone of possessiveness deeper than I’d heard before. It sends tingles down my spine as I imagine that very thing.

  “Want to get out of here?”

  I do, but, “Think this is a party in our honour,” I point out.

  “Well we won’t be stayin’ fuckin’ long.”

  We won’t, if I have my way, but as Sam puts her hand on my arm and tugs me away from my man, I know I’ve got to be sociable.

  “Welcome to the old lady club,” Sam hugs me tight. “Come on. Everyone wants to talk to you.”

  Releasing me, she pulls me away from my man, who lets me leave with a lingering look that offers a guarantee that I won’t be left wanting very long.

  “So.” As I approach the group of old ladies, Sandy gets to her feet and puts herself in front of me, her eyes sharp. “Congratulations. You’ve done what no one else has been successful in doing,” she sneers.

  There’s no need for an explanation, I know exactly what she means. Realising I’ve got to start as I mean to go on, I don’t offer an apology or defence for my former actions. Instead, I ignore the underlying scorn.

  “Thank you, Sandy.”

  “Hey. Good on ya, mate! You’re bloody one of us now.” Sophie, like Sam, gives me a hug. Am I over wary, or does the expression in her eyes belie her welcoming words?

  Becca approaches looking tired, Rose asleep in her arms. “Welcome to the old ladies’ club, Allie.”

  I beckon her closer. “I’m sorry, Becca.”

  “Hey, I heard that bitch Jill. I was there, remember? She lied to get the information out of you. Sure, it led her to Rock and betraying him, but she’s gone, Allie. No need to feel guilty.”

  But I still feel responsible for her man being hurt. Even though Rock’s healed now, and she’s holding their young baby.

  Marcia waves from her position on the couch. She’s keeping a close watch on her two toddlers who now, having
learned to walk, are becoming a handful, she’s also resting her arms over her just visibly rounded stomach. Her new pregnancy starting to show now. I walk over to her to save her getting up, having to edge around Grunt who’s lying beside his young charges keeping his watchful wolfhound eyes on them.

  “You’re going to be fine, Allie.” The ex-cop takes my hand. “You’re good for Truck, anyone can see that.”

  “I hope so,” I respond.

  “Amy, go see where Jacob thinks he’s going.” Her six-year-old stepdaughter immediately obeys with a sigh that I think imitates that of her biological mother, Crystal, who’s been dead more than three years now. Amy wouldn’t remember her true mom, but I often see glimpses of Crystal in her.

  “Sorry,” Marcia says with a grin. “Need eyes in the back of my head nowadays.”

  “And you’re having another one.”

  “Yup.” She grins tiredly. “Not trusting the doctors next time. Heart’s getting the snip.”

  She wasn’t supposed to be able to have children, now she’s incubating her third. Or is there more than one? Neither of them are telling, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the brothers had started a book.

  I spare a glance back to my man at the bar, he’s accepting congratulations from the men. Tash, I see, isn’t here with the old ladies, but is deep in conversation with Blade, with Tommy hovering close by. I hope she’s just busy and hasn’t got a beef with me. Blade, well, he used to be one of my regulars.

  “You planning on having kids, Allie?”

  I hadn’t heard Darcy approach. “No,” I tell her grinning. “Think there’s more than enough of them around.”

  She sighs, and nods over to Peg who’s cradling Noah in his arms. “The great thing about living on the compound is there are so many people around, it’s like every kid’s got loads of brothers and sisters, and there’s always a mom around to help out.”

  But not me. I’m still an outsider in this group. Unless I do my part in adding to the next generation, seems I’ll stay that way.

  “That’s true.” Sophie overhears and plops herself down next to Marcia. Then she adds something that makes me think I might have a use. “If Allie’s not looking to add to the number herself, maybe we can rely on her for some adult conversation, not just nappies and schools all the time.”

  “Diapers, woman, diapers,” Sam corrects. “And what adult conversation do you want? Comparisons of vibrators?”

  I snort. Then double up as Eli approaches his mom. “What’s a ‘brator?”

  But Sam isn’t fazed. “Adult toys,” she tells her son. “Nothing to do with little ears.”

  “You corrupting my son already, Al?” Prez’s voice booms in my ear.

  “What?” I spin around, my eyes wide.

  Lightly he bumps his fist to my arm. “Only joking. I know who’s to blame. And that’s the last time I’m buying you toys, Sam.”

  “Ooooh. Drummer bought you a new… toy,” Sophie’s eyes gleam. “Which one?”

  “Time to go.” Truck’s by my side. “I’ve got something for you far more satisfying than any vibrator.”

  I’m sure he has.

  Truck more than proves it that night. And over and over again as the days pass. If I’d ever thought limiting myself to one man would decrease the number of times I had sex, I would have been proven wrong. My initial experience with Truck has meant I’ve had more. As for variety, well, I can’t complain about that. Shower sex, up against the wall sex, even the darn back of his truck that he’s now driven to the compound. Wherever we are, Truck’s proved he’s a very talented man with an incredible imagination.

  “You too good for us now?” Diva’s voice startles me. Placing the clean glass back in its place on the shelf behind the bar, I turn around.

  “I’m still the same person.”

  “You could still come to the house, visit with us.”

  “Truck keeps me pretty busy, Div.” To be honest, I haven’t much inclination to visit with the sweet butts, as I’m not one of them any longer. I bear them no ill will, just that I’ve moved on.

  “Well, don’t forget where we are.” Her eyes twinkle. “You can tell us what it’s like to ride Truck’s cock.”

  Now that is something I’m not going to share.

  “Pass me a soda. Thanks.” Holding the can, she walks off.

  Yes, it’s strange. I’m not one of the sweet butts, and not completely accepted by the old ladies. Oh, they’re polite enough. I’m not sure whether it’s me holding back as I’m not certain of my reception, or whether there is some lingering animosity from them. Sandy, well, apart from that night when I’d been given my property patch, she hasn’t spoken to me. Seems she can’t forget I used to give blow jobs to her old man.

  The old ladies fall into two groups, those whose men never went with whores, who are friendlier, and those who have to try to forget I know their old men intimately.

  As I get the bar prepped, directing Tommy to carry in the heavy crates of beer, then I stack the bottles ready to meet the demand when the men exit from church, I put myself in their shoes. Would I be jealous to meet an old conquest of Truck’s? How would I feel if he’d been with the other sweet butts here?

  I have to say, I wouldn’t like it at all.

  Hmm. I do have some sympathy for their feelings.

  A stampede of feet announces my thinking time is over. For the next few hours I replenish glasses and open bottles, rushed off my feet at times. Truck takes a seat at the end of the bar, every time I get a moment, I go to stand by him.

  At one point he’s talking to Blade.

  After I’ve given a tray of fresh beers to a prospect, as no one else wants a glass refilled at the moment, I go back to steal a moment with my man.

  “Allie, give your old man a boot up the backside, will ya?” The enforcer’s talking to me, but his eyes are on Truck.

  “I don’t know,” Truck complains.

  “Peg?” Blade shouts.

  Having been given a request I don’t understand, thus included in their conversation, I don’t make myself scarce as I normally would concluding this doesn’t come under the heading of club business.

  Peg ambles over. “Whatcha want?”

  “Truck’s bike’s ready. Want him to give it a try tomorrow.”

  “So?” Peg looks from Blade to Truck.

  Immediately I understand the problem. Truck’s desperate to get back on a bike, but is frightened of failure.

  “Isn’t anything stopping him,” Peg confirms.

  “Why not try?” I rest my hand on Truck’s arm. “Peg and Blade will be there to help. See if your leg is strong enough to hold it up for a start. Baby steps, Truck. You don’t have to go on a hundred-mile ride tomorrow. Just get the feeling of it and find out how the electronic gear shift works.”

  Blade looks like a light bulb has switched on in his head. “Allie’s right. You won’t drop it. Peg and I will both be there.”

  Peg nods. “You’ve got more strength than you had. You can at least check whether Blade’s made enough adjustment to the shift.” He barks a laugh. “You might end up riding it down the track and back, or you might not. If you feel any weakness I can identify what we still need to work on.”

  “Truck,” I say softly to get his attention back. “It’s progress, however small or big.”

  Truck looks at Blade, then Peg, and finally to me. He leans over and kisses me. “Fuckin’ perfect, Allie. Fuckin’ perfect.”

  Later that night I distract Truck, but even after we’re both tired out, he’s still restless. It’s not hard to know the reason. Riding a bike is everything to a biker, he’s worried the morning might prove that he can’t.

  “No one’s judging you, Truck,” I remind him the next morning as he slides on his cut. “If it’s not today, nothing changes. You’ll continue getting stronger, and Peg and Blade will think of other ways to help.”

  He stares down at his foot. He should appreciate he does well to have his leg and his ankle,
even though it’s not dextrous enough to operate the gears. As he clenches and unclenches his injured hand, I know he’s doubting whether he’ll be able to work the new shift. His arm’s not perfectly straight either, but I can tell the difference since he started working with Peg, and if the sergeant-at-arms is confident he’ll be able to balance the bike and steer it right, I believe it. But I can understand Truck’s misgivings.

  He stares at me, then his hand strokes my face. “You don’t give a damn, do you? Whether I can ride or not?”

  “I give more than a damn as it matters so much to you, Truck,” I correct him, then reassure him. “I’ll love you no matter what.”

  For a moment his forehead rests against mine, then he straightens and pulls back his shoulders.

  “Let’s go see if I can do this then.”

  I wish he wasn’t so frightened of failure. But Peg and Blade wouldn’t be encouraging him to try if he didn’t have at least a chance of success.

  When we arrive at the auto-shop, Blade’s got the bike wheeled out and ready. The chrome sparkles and gleams in the sunlight. I choke back a laugh as the hungry look on Truck’s face is similar to that when we’re about to make love. Bikers and bikes. I reckon I was spot on when I listed his priorities. But hey, I’ve been around the club long enough to know what I’m getting into.

  I hadn’t really examined his bike before, but I’m pleased to see he has a pillion seat and a sissy bar. While I haven’t ridden much before—there are only a few men here who’ll take a woman behind them who’s not their old lady—the times I have, I’ve loved it. In my head I imagine riding off, with my arms hugging Truck’s waist, feeling that vibration between my thighs and knowing how the ride will probably end.

  “Going to try then?”

  Blade’s suggestion snaps me out of my reverie. Guess it’s not just Truck who’s entranced by the bike. Hmm.