The clubhouse didn’t look like much from the outside. Just a huge metal warehouse. The only reason it stood out was the rows of motorcycles lined up in the yard. Beth would have liked to look around more, but Sadist ushered her inside before she had a chance. She understood. He had business and he wanted to get it taken care of.
Inside was dim and she was grateful for Sadist’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her, because it took several seconds for her eyes to adjust enough so she could see. This wasn’t what she’d expected. It looked like the inside of a bar, mostly. Well, except for several sofas in one corner, with a TV mounted on the wall and a pole to one side. Thankfully the area was empty, she didn’t want to know what the pole was used for, at least not today.
Sadist guided
