Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,20
patched in. So you treat her with the respect you’d give any brother.”
5
Swift…
I knew I had to get the better of Stormy fast. He’s an arrogant asshole who needed to be taken down a peg and having faced him before, I know he’s skilled and quick enough that if his hits landed, they’d be hard enough to leave a lasting message. Having previously learned my lesson, I was determined not to draw this out.
Sometimes I’ll play the game, put on a show for entertainment’s sake, drawing the fight out until I let a brother think he’s going to get in a lucky shot and get me on the floor. It’s then I’ll strike and take them out. Tonight, however, I knew the humiliation would be greater if I took Stormy down before even one of his punches connected.
I’d had no expectation other than Stormy tapping out, so while I’m not surprised at how it ended, I’m still buzzing as I leave the ring. I hadn’t broken a sweat so I barely needed the towel that had been thrown at me, but out of habit I wipe my face then settle it around my neck. Grinning, I listen to the group around Stormy.
“Hey, you could have put up a fuckin’ fight.”
Uh-uh. Someone was crazy enough to bet against me.
“Stormy, what the fuck? You didn’t fuckin’ last a minute. I wanted a better show than that.”
Prez is talking to Road about something serious by the look of it. He catches my eye and crooks his finger summoning me across to join them. Some of my exhilaration fades as I walk over, wondering how Road is going to take the introduction to his new partner. I’m already prepared for the objections. Despite my so recent display of how well I can look after myself, it doesn’t hide what appears to be a drawback for so many men. I’ve lived with the fact that my genitals, or lack of the correct ones, have been the bane of my life. Not that I wanted a dick, no way, no how. I’ve just learned having the lack of one makes men judge me.
Well, if he doesn’t want to be teamed up with me, I’m equally unenthusiastic about being paired with him. As I’ve just proved, there’s no one here who can match my training. Hence, I trust none of them to have my six. I’d spent months learning to rely on no one but myself, and that’s the way I much prefer it.
Pip’s been tolerant up to now, but it seems I’ll no longer be able to get away with being a loner. For the foreseeable future at least, I’m to be paired not only with someone who’s far from being my equal, but a man who can barely stand up.
I reach them in time to hear what, for Road, is clearly the punchline.
“Not in the least,” Pip says, his eyes no longer on me but on the newcomer. “She is a member. She’s patched in. So you treat her with the respect you’d give any brother.”
I read the signs that betray Road’s reaction to that statement. His face goes red, his hands fist at his sides, and the glare thrown at me would make a lesser being want to drop through a hole in the floor. I stand my ground, raising an eyebrow in challenge as I wonder what he’s going to say next.
“She can’t be.” His eyes go from me to Prez. “Satan’s Devils don’t allow women members.”
Prez is right. Before he invited me to prospect for the club, he’d gone over the regulations with a fine-tooth comb. As, it appears, Road is about to find out.
“You’re wrong,” Road states firmly as though right is on his side. “Satan’s Devils do not allow women to join.”
Prez grins. “Sure, the regulations only refer to men, and every pronoun is ‘he’, but there’s no regulation actually prohibiting it.”
“You’re twisting it,” Road scoffs. “The intention is clear.”
“Maybe I am,” Prez agrees, his voice still level and even. “But that happens often enough in many a legal document. What’s not emphatically stated allows for loopholes. Men have gotten away with murder on such technicalities before.” His face, and his voice, hardens. “Accept it, Road. Swift is a full member of the Utah chapter, and for the time being at least, your partner.”
“Drummer’s not going to like it.”
This time, Prez agrees. “He’s not, is he, Road? There are a few things