Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,9

prez?” It seems the natural follow-on question to ask.

Pip, at least I know what to call him now, lifts his chin. He’s not my prez, so I find it hard to give him that title. “Because I prefer it that way. And your final question?”

An answer which is no real explanation, but I have no idea what to do with it, and I’ve only one thing left to ask. Pretty sure that’s all they’ll be responding to, so what information can I get with one more enquiry? And a voice in my head asks, What happens when I’ve voiced it?

I’ve never felt threatened by men wearing the Satan’s Devils’ patch before, but here I am in a strange club, unfamiliar in more ways than one. Possible questions run through my head, and I swallow down the one that floats to the top. Will you let me walk out of here and forget this ever happened? But already I know too much. I know the Satan’s Devils MC Utah Chapter is hiding a secret—a big one—from the mother chapter prez. They could lose their charter for that.

Could I lose my life now I know one of their secrets? A real fear rises like bile from my gut. How far would they go to hide the truth from Drummer?

I might have lost the chance of participating in the sport I love, may have a leg that will never properly heal, but I’ve got the rest of my life ahead of me, and I’m not ready to part with that yet.

They can’t kill me. Drummer knows where I’m headed. But he doesn’t know I’ve arrived. I feel like hitting the heel of my hand against my forehead as I hadn’t even told him I’d gotten to the clubhouse. I hadn’t been certain I was in the right place, then when I found that I was, I’d come straight inside. Last time I called him, I was still miles away. Anything can happen to a lone biker on the road. Oh, Drummer would search for me, but if they’re like the rest of us Devils, my body would never be found.

Mouse can track my phone. That’s a comforting thought. Except, I’m not in possession of my phone right now. They could do anything with it.

They won’t harm me, will they? Surely thoughts of my imminent demise are fanciful? But viewing the men staring at me with nothing resembling sympathy makes me unsure.

Final question. But what do I ask?

I sift through the hundreds floating around in my mind. “Why is it important that Drummer doesn’t know you head up this club?”

Pip sits back in his chair. In a gesture reminiscent of the prez I left just a few days ago, he links his hands behind his head. He seems in no hurry to answer, which gives me a chance to examine him. He’s probably in his late fifties, his hair is neatly coiffured, his beard trimmed short without a hair out of place. It’s unsurprising I’d initially thought I’d walked in on a meeting with a businessman. Sure, he’s wearing a cut, but it’s over a button-up shirt. His skin doesn’t look weather beaten, and I suspect, were I to see his hands, they’d be carefully manicured. The last thing he resembles is a prez of an outlaw MC, yet that he is, is what he’d have me believe.

“Ah, Roadrunner.” At last, he sighs out my name. “Why is the right question to ask, but maybe the one I’m least able to answer, or not right now.” He brings his hands down. One disappears under the table but rises again quickly.

Less than one minute later, the door to the meeting room opens, and the prospect I met earlier steps inside. He stands so stiff and straight that I half expect him to salute. Me, he had treated with disdain, his prez though, well he gets respect.

Pip nods to the prospect. “Take our guest to the waiting room and make sure he stays put.”

I’ve got a better suggestion. “If I’m not welcome here, I’ll just get on my bike and resume my ride.”

Pip’s answering smile isn’t at all comforting. Nor are his words. “Nice try. You already know too much, Road. But what to do about that is what we’ve got to decide.”

3

Swift…

Road is an interesting character, good-looking with his long dark hair and piercing eyes. He’s well-built and muscular, heavily tattooed, and with probably normally an affable disposition, though today, facing us, he looks anything