Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,5
if there’s something wrong as Drummer suggested? Nah, there can’t be much, and he didn’t have strong suspicions. If he had, he’d have sent someone with me. Still, I can’t quite shake this sense of unease.
Two miles to go, one mile. I make the turns indicated by the GPS, and then begin to pull up, rolling the bike to a halt. Damn. While the electronic device had gotten me the majority of the way without leading me wrong, now it seems to have made a mistake. This can’t be the Satan’s Devils’ clubhouse. Without turning off the engine, I look around to see if there’s a ramshackle building or auto-shop I might have missed.
Of course, I don’t have a clue what I’m looking for. I certainly wasn’t expecting an old vacation resort like we’ve got in Tucson, or even a disused airstrip like in San Diego. Maybe something more akin to the old warehouse in Vegas, or the steel mill in Pueblo. But this? Nah. Can’t be it. Through the gates I’m currently sitting in front of, I see a modern steel and glass building on the edge of an industrial estate. This can’t be right. Perhaps where I want is around the back?
Apart from being in likely looking locations, our other chapters also have large signs announcing we’re the Satan’s Devils MC. Well, why not? Local law enforcement knows exactly where to find us—no point in hiding. But here there’s nothing over the gate to suggest who lives and works here. Live? Well, nothing screams out clubhouse to me.
I check the address once again and take out my phone. My map app agrees this is where I’m meant to be. The road is right, and so is the number. Has Drummer got this wrong?
Only one way to find out, go inside and ask. I must be near enough to be given directions. I pull through the unmanned gate and halt outside the door, noticing the parking lot is devoid of bikes. Switching off the engine, I drag my stick from the mount Blade had put on for me. While I practiced walking without it when I vacated the hotel, my leg is cramping from riding, and I can’t risk falling flat on my face when faced with strangers. That would make an awkward introduction, or someone might think I was drunk.
Approaching the rotating front door, I know this isn’t the right place, but hopeful that as it’s a business, someone inside can redirect me to where I need to be. Before I enter the rotating glass door, I notice a holder with a printed card slipped inside and peer closer to read the writing to see what type of business this is. I’m shocked as hell to read Satan’s Devils MC. Utah Chapter.
I pause, frown, and hastily revise my ideas. Hefting my cut so it sits easier on my shoulders, the colours I only put on when I knew I was back in Satan’s Devils territory, I step into one of the quarters. The door begins to move automatically. Walking forward in the semi-circle, I step out into a reception area—the kind you’d expect to find in any office building.
There’s even a desk, behind which sits a man. He’s wearing a cut similar to mine, and immediately I feel more relaxed. He looks up as I enter.
“Can I help you?” His eyes move down from my face and fall on my cut. He frowns, stands, and turns to reach under his desk. The back of his cut is revealed as he does. It reads, Prospect. I’m not surprised. It would be stranger to find a patched member manning the front desk. I do suspect he’s reaching for a weapon. All he knows so far is that I’ve arrived on a motorcycle and have entered wearing colours. The three patches on my back he hasn’t yet seen.
“Roadrunner.” I offer my name, and a chin lift. “Satan’s Devils MC, Tucson Chapter.”
If I thought I’d put him at ease with my introduction, I’m wrong. It would appear I’ve put him off balance.
“I wasn’t told to expect you.” His eyes widen, and he seems unclear what to do or say next. I notice he offers no brotherly welcome, but maybe that’s because he’s not patched in yet.
I don’t need to explain anything to a prospect. “Your prez around?”
His face goes blank.
I roll my eyes. “Snatcher, your prez.”
“They’re all in church.” He offers the explanation as though it will dismiss me.