Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,39

balance, they head toward the door.

“Come on,” Swift says, her voice as urgent as their actions had been. “This way.”

I hold my hands out in a what the fuck gesture, but then do as she says. Again I have to let her lead the way, this time into a room I do recognise. It’s their meeting room where they hold church. Every man is present. Don’t they have regular jobs? To get here so fast, they must all have been hanging around the clubhouse. Bolt and Rascal look sweaty as though they’ve come straight from the gym. Thor too, he’s wiping his face with a towel as he walks in, and if I’m not mistaken, his t-shirt has been put on inside out.

A spare chair is to Swift’s left. I suppose that’s for me, so I take it.

Unlike in Tucson, there’s no friendly banter, and the expressions on everyone’s faces is various versions of seriousness, curiosity and preparedness. There are a couple of murmured conversations which I can make little sense of. Fuelled and ready, is one answer supplied.

But it’s total silence when Pip and Snatcher walk in, and all eyes go to the head of the table.

“Kidnap.” Pip doesn’t waste time waiting until his ass hits the seat before talking business. He lets that one word sink in as though it’s supposed to mean something, then continues, “Thirteen-year-old girl snatched off the street on her way home from a friend’s.”

“Planned?” This is from Honor.

Pip dips and raises his chin. “Pretty sure her movements were tracked.”

What does it all mean, and why are the Satan’s Devils involved in it?

“Ransom demand?”

Pip nods at Thor. “A cool five million.”

“Note or phone call?” Bolt asks.

“Call.”

I think my mouth has fallen open. These men seem elevated from MC brothers discussing business. They seem to speak in a language I’m finding hard to follow, picking up information from short questions and one-word answers. One thing that can’t be denied, they’re professionals.

“Send me the details,” Duty requests.

“How fast were we involved?”

Snatcher takes over from Pip, and answers Piston. “Kid was due home at twenty-hundred hours last night. When she didn’t arrive, they tried all the normal shit, contacting friends, tracing her journey.”

“Cops involved?”

“Nah.” Snatcher continues, this time looking Thor’s way, “The kidnappers didn’t give them much of a chance. By twenty-one hundred they got in touch.”

Thor raises an eyebrow. “With a ‘go to the cops’ and you’ll never see your daughter again’, I suppose.”

“You got it,” Snatcher confirms.

I’m trying to translate what’s going on but admit to having difficulty keeping up. Case in point, the twenty-four clock might be as natural as breathing to these military men, but I’m getting lost. I remember Peg once telling me you just needed to subtract twelve to translate it to normal time. My head must look like someone following a tennis match as it whips back and forth trying to keep track as comments come from all sides about things that make sense to all but one of the members seated around this table. The odd one out being me.

“And they only called us this morning?” Swift’s rolling her eyes.

My head swings back Pip’s way as he nods. “Probably trying to work out if they could get the cash together.”

“They probably can. The kidnappers would make sure any request could be fulfilled,” Honor remarks.

“Where?” Preacher’s got his hands clasped on the table, and his sharp eyes view his prez.

“Santa Barbara,” Pip replies.

Preacher raises his head, closes his eyes, then opens them and looks back down. “I can have boots on the ground in four hours.”

How? I might be able to ride a motorcycle fast, not that fast, nor the stamina to maintain the necessary high speed for so long. But that begs the question, what’s this all about? What the fuck is going on? And what are the Satan’s Devils supposed to do about a kid getting kidnapped, sad however much that is.

“Swift, I want you in on this one.” When the woman beside me offers a chin lift as though she’s been expecting it, Pip glances around. “Piston, Rascal, Thor and Honor. You go with Snatcher.”

“What about me?”

“You stay here, Stormy.” The words where I can keep an eye on you are unspoken, but nevertheless, come through loud and clear, even to me a stranger.

The face of the man in question goes bright red.

There’s a family in California missing a thirteen-year-old child. Apart from the parents’ anguish, she must be scared out of her mind. Never mind these