Page 114 of Ink's Devil

Would Beth?

I might not mind inflicting physical pain. But mental hurt? Seems it’s there I want to draw the line.Too late.What’s done is done.

To take my mind off the grief of the women I’d just left, I take advantage of Beef’s attention, and broach my embryonic idea.

“Hey, VP. You had a gym set up in Tucson, didn’t you? It get well used?”

“It fuckin’ did, Brother. And does. Drummer insists on it. Monthly sparring matches in the ring too. Should have something like that here.” He flexes his biceps. “I’m getting soft.”

“We use a gym in town, as you well know, Beef.” I raise my chin at him, having seen him there a time or two. “But Ink’s been on about setting something up for ourselves.”

He gives me a calculating look. “You thinking of starting the project for Ink?”

I shrug. “Ink’s idea, but we’d all benefit. Thought of seeing if we could renovate one of the old buildings out the back.”

“What? The ones behind the fence?”

Yeah, Beef had fenced off the more dangerous areas when he’d laid out the backyard for his old lady. “Yes. One of them is fairly sound.”

“It’s a good idea, Brother. Bring it up at tomorrow’s church. Reckon we’d all like to chip in and do something for Ink when he gets out.” The faraway look that comes into his eyes suggests he’s thinking that despite our best efforts and using the drugs and Connor’s knowledge of Alder to bargain with the feds, Ink could still be going away for a very long time.

“You did the yard for Steph, Bro,” I remind him. “At the time you didn’t know you’d see her again.”

Beef snorts. “You think it worked like a charm bringing her back to me?”

I give a half-smile. “Well, it can’t do any harm.”

He slaps my back. “We’re doing what we can for Ink, Mace. But yeah, I think brothers want to do more. A gym’s a great idea in any event, but when every nail hammered in and every piece of equipment set up is for him, well, I don’t see anyone turning your idea around. We’d all give our lives for each other; blood, sweat and tears would be cheerfully donated.”

“And a few cuss words.” I grin now.

“That too,” he laughs. Then, spying Demon, walks off.

“What was that about?”

“A gym. For Ink,” I explain to Lizard. He calls Judge over, and I tell him too. Next, it’s Ro.

I drink beer and spend the next few hours discussing plans for the gym. The notion seems to have gone well. We’re heading into spring which will mean longer, warmer days when we can get work done after we’ve finished our day jobs.

“Let’s walk around tomorrow,” Rusty suggests. “See how much needs to be done. Could always get Viper and Bullet’s crew up from Tucson if the fabric of the building needs more work than we can handle. They did a fuckin’ good job on the repairs to the clubhouse.” He indicates the new brick matched in with the original walls, damage we’d had to repair when the Mafia came visiting a while back.

“Good call,” I tell him. Looking around with a second pair of eyes would be useful and means I’ve got some practical suggestions to bring up at church.

“Mace. Can I do something for you?” Titsy approaches with a wide grin on her face.

Now there’s an idea. I’d not have been in the mood had she asked me earlier but having spent some time talking about doing something positive for Ink, I’m certainly in a better place. As I stare down at her tits in such a low-cut top that her nipples are almost visible, my cock starts to get hard.

I begin to give her the answer which is a very definite yes. I’m opening my mouth to form the word when I’m distracted.

“See you tomorrow!” Ro shouts to no one in particular as he walks toward the door.

A usual occurrence. He normally spirits Mel home when the club girls come out to play. I turn back to what I was preparing to do. “Yeah, doll.” I look over and see the pool table’s not in use. Like Ink, I have no difficulty getting my rocks off in public, and the idea of my performance being watched is often a turn on. “Over there, yeah?”

My hand’s on her ass as she starts to walk over, but my attention is on Pyro and Mel’s progress across the room, wanting to keep it PG while his old lady’s still in sight. So, I see him forced to step back and pull Mel out of the way as the door flies open, and in runs a distraught woman. “Help, I need help,” yells Beth’s mom, Patsy. She’s followed by an anguished Dirt, one of his eyes seems to be shut and swollen.

All eyes shoot to her. She might be small, average height for a woman but tiny to us, but at the moment she’s commanding the attention of the room.

“Phil’s got Bethany. He wants his drugs back.”

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