Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,19

I would think, as his opponent could get a hold of it. If they fight dirty that is. Yeah, I might have learned a few tricks that I keep up my sleeve.

The more I watch the trio in the ring, the more I hope I’ve identified the right man as Swift. I wouldn’t want to be paired with the one showing off his chest. If I were, I’d need to sleep with one eye open. Or better still, stay wide awake. There’s a vibe of fury that’s emanating from him. I’d felt it back in the meeting room, as if just by breathing I’ve upset him. Pip wouldn’t be crazy enough to partner me with him, would he?

The man who I’m hoping is Swift beckons the angry man close. All three bow their heads as he speaks to them both. Then, the girl and chesty go to opposite corners, while the man I want to be Swift steps back to the ropes.

I catch my breath and hold it. The long-haired man isn’t fighting at all. He’s the fucking referee. It’s become clear it’s the woman who’s going to be taking Swift on.

There’s no other explanation. The angry man must be this fucking Swift I’m supposed to be partnered with. No wonder the good money was going on him. I suck in air. Jeez. He’s fighting a girl? Sure, I’ve seen girls fight before. We’ve even had the strippers at Angels mud wrestle before to provide entertainment for the customers. But a real fight against a man? No way. And not one in the mood Swift’s in.

As Swift waves her forward with a taunt, I look around to see who’s going to step in and stop this. He’s going to fucking kill her. But everyone’s just staring on, their faces eager in anticipation and some are even cheering the pair on.

“This has been a long time coming.” Turning fast, I see Pip standing by my shoulder. “Stormy’s been well out of line for a while.”

But that doesn’t mean she should get her face rearranged. I open my mouth to protest, but Pip shakes his head, jerking his chin toward the ring.

“Watch. You don’t want to miss this.”

I turn back. Swift has launched himself at the woman. She’s fast, I’ll give her that, dancing under his arm and around him. He’s not slow himself. Fuck, that’s going to hurt, he’s not pulling his punches…

Instead of the fist meeting her stomach, there’s a blur of movement, almost too fast for my eyes to follow. He goes down with a crash and is on his front, one arm bent painfully behind him, and the woman’s pulling his head back with a hard grip around his face.

Swift tries to buck her off, but to no avail. He tries again, but his head’s being forced back. Instead of getting free, after a few more abortive attempts… he taps out.

Jeez. If that’s my new partner, he just got bested by a woman half his size. Guess I’d be able to take him on after all. My lips start to curve.

Suddenly cries and shouts of, Swift! Swift! Swift! go up around me as she jumps to her feet, waving her hands in the air.

Swift?

“What do you think of your new teammate?” Pip asks, laughter in his voice.

I try to compute what he just said. Then I say the first thing that comes to me. “She’s a fuckin’ bitch.”

“I’d advise you not to call her that.” He chuckles by my side. “Not with your weak leg. You’ll risk literally leaving yourself without a leg to stand on.”

Ignoring what’s going on around me, I turn and face him down, feeling personally insulted and hurt, and also conscious of the slur toward Drummer. “Do me the fuckin’ courtesy of putting me with one of your members, not with a…” What is she? I’ve got nothing against women, but this is probably a way of keeping me out of the real business of the club. Satan’s Devils do not have women members and never have. “If you’re teaming me up with anyone, it’s got to be someone who’s earned a Satan’s Devils’ patch.”

“I have.” Where my tone of voice does little to hide the annoyance and slight that I feel, Pip’s voice is calm.

“So, you’re telling me you’re pairing me with a sweet butt as a fuckin’ joke?” A twisted one at that.

“Not in the least,” he clarifies, then his eyes pierce me like a laser beam. “She is a member. She’s

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