Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,6
in church? In the middle of a workday? Of course, it’s not unusual to have meetings called at any time when there’s a need. I wonder whether something urgent had come up. Could even be something their discussing that Drummer needs to know about. That’s exactly what I’ve been sent to find out, and there’s no reason not to do just that. I’m a patched member of the Satan’s Devils MC. Visiting members are always invited to sit around our table in Tucson, here shouldn’t be any different. Cut one of us, we all bleed Satan’s Devils’ blood.
There’s something about the attitude of this prospect which annoys me. He’s too cocky and too reluctant to offer help. Prospecting’s not so far in my rearview that I don’t remember having to jump to attention and give a member whatever he wanted, whatever chapter he was from. If I wasn’t as obliging as fuck, I wouldn’t be getting my patch, had been ingrained in me. This man, though? He doesn’t seem to give a damn.
“Where’s your meeting room?” I ask, making a snap decision.
He stares at me for a moment. His mouth opens and shuts, and his hands rise, then he lowers them again. He seems flustered as he raises his chin, obviously unable to think of any other course of action. “This way.” He pauses halfway down a carpeted corridor and holds out his hand. “Gun, knife and phone.”
It’s not an odd request. Most chapters don’t allow weapons or such devices in church. A habit ingrained from back in the days when disagreements could turn bloody, or conversations not meant for other’s ears recorded. It’s still the way we do it in Tucson. Well, phones anyway. Heaven forbid if we ever tried to take away Blade’s knives. Mouse, our computer expert, is hot on our phones being hacked and there are apps which can be installed which somehow keep microphones live. Sci-fi shit to me.
I do wonder the reason for it here. Utah knows fuck all about tech, hasn’t even got an equivalent of Mouse. Maybe they don’t trust each other that much here. Thinking nothing of it, it’s probable they’ve never moved on. We’ve always considered them an old-fashioned club. I pass over my gun and phone. The prospect carefully locks them in a box, then knocks on a door and opens it.
The table is a stretched oval shape, with two definite ends. I look at what I assume is the head of the table, then, when that doesn’t reveal the man I would know as soon as I saw him, I move my eyes to the opposite end, words to introduce myself already on my lips as I ready myself to greet Snatcher, President of the Utah Chapter of the Satan’s Devils MC.
“I…”
That’s all I get out before I realise I don’t recognise the man seated at the head of the table at all. The man to his left, though, is Snatcher. Okay, so different seating arrangements. It’s up to them how they run the club, and who am I to criticise a prez who sits among his men.
I try again. “Prez, sorry to barge in. I was in the area.” All eyes are upon me as I speak, but no one leaps to their feet, no hands are outstretched to greet me. Their expressions get me shifting awkwardly and already regretting my hasty decision to walk uninvited into church. If the prospect hadn’t annoyed me, I’d have been more circumspect and waited until the meeting had ended before making my presence known.
“I suggest you address yourself to me.” When the man at the head of the table makes his demand, my eyes flick back to him automatically.
I don’t know him from Adam. I recognise Thor, who’s seated opposite Snatcher, and Piston, their road captain who’ve I’ve seen a time or two before. But no other face is at all familiar. Not surprising, Utah’s a way out from Tucson so not many men would make the trip down there without good reason, and there hasn’t been one of those for a while. Not since I became a member. The man missing, Thumper, I’d met and regret his absence. He, I remember, was a friendly, jovial type and who, I believe, would have worn a welcoming smile. But Thumper is dead and no help at all now.
As my eyes scan each face hoping to see something there other than suspicion, I do notice something which strikes me as completely out