Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,135
that’s the fuckin’ reason you don’t ride a bike?”
He raises his chin. “Sure is. Like Bolt, I’ve got the best prosthetics money can buy, but I don’t want to risk damaging them by giving riding a try. If I damaged them, not only would they be expensive to replace, but I’d be fuckin’ vulnerable.” His head turns slightly so his gaze lands on Swift before coming back to mine.
“You know how she feels,” I state, not needing it confirmed. Like her, Pip hides his disability well. Why should I have known he was a double amputee, except that it explains things, and why the MC is okay having a prez who doesn’t ride.
Pip’s eyes meet mine again. “I take my legs off at night but keep them close by. I’ve practiced getting them back on so I can do it in a blink of an eye. But like Bolt said, you feel you have a weakness when you haven’t got your own working parts. Maybe in normal life it’s different but given how we live, it’s a liability. Not being able to hear an alarm or intruder must be scary as fuck, just like if I was kidnapped without my legs and unable to escape. You know if she managed to get any rest last night?”
That final slipped in question was a loaded one. I’ve got a feeling Pip doesn’t miss much. That Swift’s bright and breezy and clearly well rested won’t have escaped his attention. He also understands how she probably wouldn’t be that way had she been left all alone. I could deny it, but I’m already hiding shit from Drummer. If I’m moving to Utah, I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with my new prez.
“I stayed in her room so she felt safe,” I admit.
A smirk comes and goes, and this time the slap to my back isn’t to stop me from choking. “Appreciate that, Brother. What you and Swift do is your personal business, and I’m not going to mention anything about her in church. Not unless she thinks we need to know how vulnerable being kidnapped made her feel. But I’m glad you’re looking out for her. Anyone who’s gone through what she has needs support. Me and Bolt know that better than any of the others.”
“I had an idea, Pip.” It’s his clubhouse and will be his decision whether I can bring any changes to it. “I don’t know whether it would work, and probably need your permission to look further into it.”
I take a moment to explain what my idea is. Listening, his eyes widen and for the third time the palm of his hand meets the leather on my back. “That’s fuckin’ great, Brother. Let me know if you need help sorting it out. And I’ll make sure there are no objections from anyone.”
“I need to check shit out first,” I warn him. “Keep it quiet until I know it’s even possible.”
As he nods and turns away, Bolt returns and places a plate loaded with every breakfast item imaginable into my hands. My stomach growls in appreciation, and I pull out a seat at a table and start tucking in.
“So you’re the fuckin’ hero of the hour.”
Someone slams a plate on the table, sits down opposite without permission and proceeds to glare at me. Ignoring Stormy, I lift my fork and start shovelling food into my mouth, musing that Cowboy really does know his shit.
“Nothing to say?”
Starting to feel replete, I swallow and raise my narrowed eyes. “What is your problem, Stormy?”
“You got yourself caught.”
Yeah. I should have been more cautious. I don’t have any excuse. Shouldn’t have gone in on my own. Should have waited with Bolt for backup before proceeding. Should have, could have and a whole lot of ifs. Apart from the bullet graze on my arm, and the nice bruise on my chest, in retrospect it all worked out. Swift might have suffered more had I not arrived when I had. I don’t explain that to the man staring daggers at me.
As the silence stretches on, Stormy’s expression changes and he gives what for him passes for a grin. It seems he appreciated me not defending my actions. “Though from what Swift says, you weren’t entirely helpless. That stiletto in your sole is an idea I think we should copy.”
I give credit where it’s due. “That’s thanks to Blade, the enforcer in Tucson. He’s besotted with knives.”