Satan's Revenge by Celia Loren

it’s so much more than that. The physical is just what we come back to when we feel far apart. I’m not going to give up on him, even if he is being a fucking asshole to me right now. If I was acting like that, I’d want him to come after me. To find me, wherever I am, and pull me back.
    I have to fight for him.
     

Chapter Eleven

    Drifter
    15 years ago
     
     
    Saturday rolls around, and I pull up to the address Flint gave me on a rusted bicycle I found in the Ralstons’ garage. I didn’t ask permission to take it, because they probably would have said no, and I didn’t tell them where I was going, because they definitely wouldn’t care.
    I look through the trees to an old farmhouse set back from the road. It’s like the Ralstons’ place, only bigger and better kept. The road turns to gravel where it branches off from the main concrete stretch, and I hop off the bike and hide it behind a tree to avoid being seen riding it up to their clubhouse. I can already hear music and laughter, and as I walk up, I see a row of motorcycles parked out front.
    As I approach I glance at the sleek bodies of the bikes. All Harleys. I’m aching to hop on one, but I know better than to do that. I turn to the front door and pause, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. I take a deep breath and knock. I wait, but no one comes to the door. I knock again, a little louder, then reach down and slowly turn the knob.
    As I push the door open, a huge hand comes into view and pulls the door the rest of the way. I look up to a see a guy a few inches taller than me blocking my path. Music blares from behind him.
    “The fuck do you want?” he growls at me.
    “Flint and Mr. Laurits invited me…I mean Bill,” I stammer.
    He looks me up and down suspiciously for a moment, then calls over his shoulder, “Bill! You got a kid here to see you!”
    Fuck, I wish he wouldn’t call me a kid in front of the whole place. But I guess compared to him, I am.
    Mr. Laurits appears over his shoulder, and the big guy drops back. Behind him I see a wood-beamed room filled with bearded men and scantily-clad women. He looks different in his black leather vest.
    “Flint wanted you to come. I didn’t think it was such a good idea,” he begins without any small talk. “So here are the rules: one beer. That’s it. You’re still my student. And you leave before it gets dark.”
    “I’m not planning on doing anything crazy,” I assure him.
    “It’s not your behavior I’m worried about,” he says drily. “Come on, Flint’s out back.”
    I follow him through the main room and out a door at the back. There are even more people out here, and there are a couple fires going in metal trash cans to keep the chill at bay. I raise my nose to the smell of barbecue and look around eagerly.
    “They’re roasting a pig over there,” Mr. Laurits says. He leads me to a corner of the yard where someone’s cutting up a whole pig that looks like it’s just finished cooking over the fire pit it lies next to. He hands me a paper plate loaded with shredded pork and glances around. “I’m gonna find Flint. You stay here.”
    I grab a fork and some barbecue sauce from a nearby table and go to town. The meat is hot and just a little sweet, and it’s the best thing I’ve eaten in years. I glance around at the rest of the people there. Most of the guys have beards and longish hair, and they’re all wearing the same black vest. I see the Satan’s Sons emblem all around me.
    And then there’s the women. I’ve never seen so many hot women in one place in my life.
    “Woah, slow down, kiddo,” I hear next to me. I turn and almost choke on my food. There’s a gorgeous woman standing next to me, her breasts overflowing from her tiny black tank top. She catches me looking, and laughs, her green eyes crinkling. “You lost?” she asks, though I can hear humor in her voice.
    “No, I’m…I’m waiting for Flint,” I murmur, hurriedly swallowing my food.
    “Oh, Flint,