Page 11 of Devil's Dilemma

It’s while I’m sipping my wine and him slaking his thirst with a beer, that he reaches over the table and takes my hand.

“Tell me about yourself, Melissa.”

Another good sign. Some men I’ve been with make the evening all about them.

“I work for the city, but you already know that. I’ve got good folks up in Denver, no siblings, I was an only child. I love cooking and reading. See, I’m quite boring.”

“You’re not boring, Melissa. I reckon there’s a lot you’re not saying.”

I shrug. With me, what you see is about what you get. “How about you, Skull? Tell me about the MC and what you actually do for them.”

“Yeah.” His mouth twists. “The MC. Okay, you deserve to know what you might be getting into.” He takes another mouthful of beer. “The Satan’s Devils MC is like one big family. We’ve got a few chapters around—our mother chapter is in Tucson, Arizona—but I ride with the Pueblo crew.”

“The mother chapter. Do you have to do what they tell you?”

“Nah and yes.” He gives a quick grin. “The by-laws and regulations are the same all over, but the local prez runs things how he wants. We choose what businesses we want to get into.”

My heart stops.Is this where he’s going to tell me he’s a criminal?It’s easy sitting here with him, more natural than I would have thought. If he’s now going to list the reasons why he’s not right for me, I already know I’ll be upset. But I can’t tie my flag to the mast of a man who walks on the wrong side of life.

“Your face is very expressive.” He takes back my hand that I hadn’t realised I’d moved away. “Our businesses won’t cause you worry. We run a strip club, yes. Let’s get that out of the way. All the dancers work for us voluntarily, none of them are forced, and we don’t allow drugs on the premises. We also run a bowling alley that’s very family-orientated, a tattoo parlour and an auto-shop. Recently we’ve started up a new security business.”

I’d stiffened at strip club, but slowly became more relaxed as he listed the rest. “What do you do for them?”

“I started off at the auto-shop, but also work with Cad—he’s our computer expert—and one of my other biker brothers, Pal in SD security.”

My teeth worry my lip. “That’s not code for protection rackets, is it?”

Again, he tosses back his head and gives a hearty laugh. “Nah. We install state-of-the-art security systems.”

I’m thoughtful for a moment. “Sounds like any other company with diverse interests. How did the MC decide to get into those businesses, and how long have you ridden with the Satan’s Devils? Oh, and why?”

Chapter Five

Melissa

“That’s a lot of questions,” he observes. But he doesn’t seem at all upset I’ve asked him. “What do you know about motorcycle clubs?”

“I’ve heard of the big ones which have quite a reputation.” Mostly I’ve just watchedSons of Anarchythree times, but I keep that to myself.

“Yeah, I suspect you’re referring to the Wretched Soulz?”

I nod, I am. Though there are others, Wretched Soulz make the headlines quite a lot. They’re known throughout the southern states, all over North America really.

“We do have an affiliation with them, as we’re set up in their territory, but all that means is that they approve of how we run the club.” A strange look comes into his eyes. “We stay out of drugs and gun running.”

I tilt my head at his expression, though quickly it’s replaced by the more familiar smile once again. “Some clubs are set up by vets when they return from overseas. They’re looking for something they find is missing when they come back to civilian life. The Pueblo club started in the early eighties when the steel industry crashed. In fact, our clubhouse is in an old steel mill. Our barbeque pit is a furnace where they could melt half a train at a time.”

My eyes grow wide. “It must be huge.”

“It is,” he agrees, with a quick grin. “Well, getting back on topic. The ex-steelworkers who started the club wanted something to belong to, a place to call home, a family and an income. Back in those days the club wasn’t as clean as it is now. When Hellfire, that’s our current prez's Demon’s father, took over from his dad, Blackie, he joined forces with the Satan’s Devils and got the club out of the worst of the shit.”

“Hold on. You’re saying Demon is the grandson of the founder?” I shake my head. “Sounds like nepotism is alive and well.” I soften my statement with a smile.

“Well that’s their familial relationship, but anything else isn’t how it sounds.” He frowns. “No one got their position because of who they are. We were all happy to vote Demon in. Fuckin’ good man to lead us.”

Message to me, stay out of things I don’t know about. “You say it’s like a family?” I ask, wanting to get onto a safer topic.

“Yes. Take me, I’ve got no one of my own. Now, I’ve got more than a dozen brothers who’d give their lives for me. A few have ol’ ladies, and there’s even a kid.”

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