I meet no one as I pass the next few doors, then quietly tap for Swift to let me back in. When she does, she queries me with raised eyebrows, but I just shake my head, and going into the bathroom, dress in my other pair of jeans, and put on my last clean t-shirt. I feel like a man getting ready for his execution.
When I come out and reach for my cut, I slide my arms into it, noticing Swift’s deep in thought by the window, staring out. She turns as she hears me.
“The future can’t be faced with more lies,” she starts. “There’s been enough of those.”
I wonder where she’s going with this. Is she preparing to tell me something about her past, or thinks there’s something hidden in mine? There’s not. With me, what you see is what you get.
She holds out her uninjured hand. I step nearer, accepting the invitation, and enclosing it in mine. “Breakfast?” she asks, looking down where are fingers are entwined.
I hardly dare breathe. “Like this?”
“If we’re together. If you meant we’re together whatever comes, then, I don’t think we should hide that.”
“You didn’t want anyone to know yesterday,” I remind her.
“Yesterday I hadn’t felt we’d made a commitment. Last night, I think we did. If there’s going to be issues with us being together, then I think those should be addressed now. There’s been too many things brushed under the carpet as it is.” She glances up at me, almost shyly. “Do you mind?”
“No.” I offer a half-smile. “We can make anything work, Swift. There are two brothers, Joker and Lady back in Tucson. They’re together. They both sit around the table. Don’t see any difference in that we’re both members, just as they are.”
“At the moment.”
I didn’t need that reminder. But the day will bring whatever it brings. “Ready to face the music?” I ask her.
“Give me your lips, first?” She tilts her head up, and I close the distance. We make the most of what is probably our last moment of peace for the next few hours.
“You know?” I ask rhetorically when we pull apart. “I’m falling hard for you, Karen.”
She starts. “I hate my name,” she warns me.
“Do you only hate it because of the memes and the connotations?”
She grimaces and that gives me the answer.
“Then reclaim it. If you prefer, I’ll only use it when we’re here together.”
She thinks for a moment. “I’d like that. I’m Karen, but not a Karen. But when others hear it—”
“Brothers will be brothers,” I remind her. “They make the most of any perceived weakness.”
“It’s women too. Stupid that the name my mum thought was pretty thirty-three years ago now stands for something objectionable. I feel every time I admit my name, people see a privileged white woman and examine my every word and action, searching to find me wanting in some way.”
“That’s stupid,” I tell her. But from what I’ve seen of human nature, understandable. “They’ve just got to get to know you, that’s all.”
She sighs. “Even then, if I say something which comes out wrong, I get ‘Karen’ thrown at me.” Not when I’m around, she won’t. “But you can call me Karen, if I get to call you Lucas.”
“Luc,” I correct her. “That’s what my friends called me.” Then I bend my head and am kissing her again, telling her softly as I raise my lips, “And if you ask me, Karen is a very pretty name.” I straighten, and roll my shoulders. “Come on. We didn’t eat much yesterday. Let us condemned go have a hearty breakfast.”
She offers a quick grin and nudges my arm. “I don’t think we’re going to be hung, drawn and quartered, do you?”
I let my eyes narrow. “I’d put nothing past Blade, so please do not suggest that.”
She gives a short bark of a laugh, but her merriment fades when she sees I’m still looking serious. Then deciding I must be joking after all, and keeping hold of my hand, leads me out of her room.
The cafeteria is fairly full, but apart from the clanking of plates and utensils, it’s quiet, with people sitting in one of two camps. The larger headed by Pip and the Utah members sits on one side of the room. They’ve pushed tables together so they can have whispered conversations unheard by the men sitting along the other wall, Drummer and his brothers from Tucson. His brothers, I realise had immediately come into my head. They’re not likely to be mine anymore. So engrossed in thoughts about where my future might lie, that I’ve entered with my fingers still wrapped around Swift’s is something that feels so natural, I’ve totally forgotten the stir it would be likely to cause.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Preacher’s eyes have gone wide. “Road, er, hate to tell you this, man, but you’re about to lose your fuckin’ hand.”
Oh fuck. Here it comes. I don’t have to wait long before finding out what Swift is going to do. She drops my hand, but instead of taking a step away from me, she puts her arm possessively around my waist to show I’m in no danger and sending another signal that causes my heart to miss a beat, a sure sign that I’m hers.
Piston pretends to look behind me and points. “Where’s Swift? You left her upstairs?”
Like lightning, Swift leaves my side, takes hold of Piston’s index finger and twists it back, applying pressure as she does, making him drop to his knees and howl.
“I think you’ve found her,” Bolt calls out, laughing his ass off.
Swift lets the stricken man go, who rolls onto his back cradling his finger. “You’ve broken it.”
“If she has it’s no less than you deserve,” Thor observes. “Talking of fingers, how’s yours now?” He eyes the bandage wrapped around Swift’s hand that the two of us try to ignore.
“I think Pip threw it in the garbage.” Swift makes the joke that’s on herself.
Thor looks down, probably realising how his question was poorly worded, but takes the hint about how Swift wants to play this. It’s gone, time to move on.
A loud whistle gets my attention from the other side of the room, where Drummer, Wraith, Peg and Blade are seated. Turning I see Drummer beckoning me over.
Swift holds me back but only to tell me, “I’ll fix you a plate.”
Knowing I’d rather extend my time with her, I reluctantly nod. “I’ll come find you.” Then I straighten my shoulders and go to see what my prez wants.
Drummer wastes no time getting to the point. “So that’s her?” He jerks his head behind me. “The woman who’s got you tied in knots?”
“Yes.” My shoulders straighten imperceptibly.
“Christ, it gets worse.” Peg’s shaking his head but giving nothing away.
All four men sitting in front of me have old ladies themselves, so Peg’s reaction has annoyed me. “I don’t see the fuck how?” I snarl.
Drummer takes a breath and narrows his eyes at me. “If, and it’s a big fuckin’ if, if she stays a member, how are we going to have two members fuckin’ each other?”
“You mean like Joker and Lady?” My comeback is fast and is answered by eyes going wide. It seems they’ve gotten so used to Joker and Lady that the thought didn’t occur to them that it was an example how two members could be together without it causing trouble.
Drummer eyes me wearily. “I’d have the same worry I had with them, when they admitted the truth and came out. Like when the bullets are flying, they’d protect each other first.”
I snort. “That’s never happened, has it? And if the bullets are flying, I’ll be the one waiting for Swift to protect me.”
Blade simply stares.
“You okay, Road?” Pip’s walked over, and he gives the four at the table a nod. When he places a hand on my back, it feels like he’s sending a message, that he’s now the one looking out for me.
“You knew about Road and your lady member?” Drummer asks him, leaning back on his chair so it balances on two legs.
Pip shrugs. “Saw which way the wind was blowing. Well, saw Road was interested, but wasn’t sure about Swift reciproc
ating.”
“Christ, man.” Blade still won’t address me as brother. “It’s only been a few days.”
“Escaping death together probably accelerates the feelings,” Pip offers, his eyes gentling as he turns to me. “You’d either end up hating or loving each other. You make a good team. Now why don’t you go join Swift?”
Drummer’s eyes narrow as Pip makes the suggestion, but jerks his head, dismissing me. He continues talking to Pip but doesn’t invite him to sit at their table.
I cross the room, moving toward the woman who’s drawing me to her like a magnet, the woman who so quickly has become important to me. Yeah, it’s fast, but apparently the heart knows what it wants. I’m just fucking pleased that my feelings for her weren’t one-sided. How the fuck did I get to be so lucky as to attract the interest of her?
She had been right. If the Utah brothers are going to have a problem with us giving a relationship a try, getting it out in the open is better than keeping it hidden. As she said, there have been too many lies, if only by omission. But apart from derisive comments coming from Stormy which are ignored, most brothers seem amused rather than upset at the change in our relationship, Duty going so far as to say that they, meaning he and Honor, had seen it coming. Of course, I get warnings that I’d have to be the one to tread carefully, that if I upset Swift, no one would find my body. The observation only makes me grin.
They might not know me, but they’ve ridden beside Swift long enough not to think she’ll let us being together affect her role in the club. Should the club continue to exist, that is.
I can’t help but think that maybe if we were going to out our fledgling relationship, now was probably the best time to do it. It’s just one more change, and in the scheme of things, probably not the biggest.
I’ve cleared my plate when Pip finally steps away from Drummer. He looks around the room, then approaches the pushed together tables where the Utah members are sitting.
“Drummer’s asked for two prospects and two trucks to go to the airport. They,” he jerks his head toward the table he’s just left, “are going to meet the other prezes. I think they’re intending on having a pre-meet before bringing them here to meet us.”
“Drummer taking the chance to get his view across out of our hearing?” Snatcher frowns.
I have to stand up for my prez. “More likely he’ll be giving them the facts as he’s found them, saving us going back over everything twice.”
Pip raises his chin at me, then continues to address everybody, his eyes moving along the table as he does. “Drummer wants the whole club, including Grinch, Goofy and Mystic in church. I’ll get Gears to sort out extra space at the table, but I warn you, there’s going to be standing room only for some.”
“Do we draw lots?” Piston grins, reaching for the ketchup to dress his second plate of the morning, stress clearly not diminishing his appetite. He’s a thin, lithe man, and I have to wonder where he’s putting all his breakfast fare.
“Nah. The key players will get chairs. Road will be seated, and so will Swift and Stormy. Our officers too. The rest of you will have to sort yourselves out.”
His hand rests on my shoulder and squeezes, then he moves it and does the same to Swift. He leaves to pass on the message to the next table.
Swift leans in closer. “Want to make a run for it?”
I bend my head to hers. “I’m tempted. Very tempted.” I nod across the room, where Blade has got out one of his famous knives. Sure, at the moment he’s only cleaning his fingernails with it, but when he raises his head and catches my eye, he smiles, and it’s not a friendly one. I hide my mouth behind my hand and whisper to Swift, “You don’t need to be as worried as I am.”
“Why’s that?” she whispers back.
“Because you don’t have a dick Blade can slice off.”
“Oh but I do,” she contradicts, moving her hand slightly under the table so that it covers my cock. “This is mine, as I believe we ascertained last night. I don’t think you wearing a strap on would be quite the same.”
I choke, my head dropping onto the table as she slaps my back, but I wave her off as my coughing fit turns into laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
At Duty’s question, Swift and I just crack up again.
“And that’s why there should be no relationships around the table,” Bolt states, looking a combination of amused and disgusted.
I do notice while others look like they’re in agreement with the one-handed man, Duty and Honor do not. There’s something there, I’m certain of it. I couldn’t give a damn unless they’re hiding something because they don’t think they can bring it out into the open. I frown, thinking it would be good for Joker and Lady to come for a visit, to show them they’d be accepted as Satan’s Devils whatever they are.
After Drummer and his officers set off for the airport, having hours to kill, gradually people meander from the cafeteria and congregate in the clubroom. Grinch, Goofy and Mystic appear, looking uncomfortable in this environment. It’s obvious they feel more relaxed and at home with nicotine-stained walls and ceilings. I notice Snatcher and Thor do their best to get them to relax, Thor rolling a joint and sharing it.
He’s not the only one to get out his gear. After a short while I start to feel homesick for Tucson as the room begins to smell like Mouse’s office. Neither Swift nor I partake, and I notice neither does Stormy nor Snatcher. While weed can help you relax, the four of us need to keep sharp and our heads straight. One careless slip of the tongue and Drummer would be all over it.
Pip’s absent, I notice, as the time rolls on.
Swift and I play a few games of pool, but our hearts aren’t in it. No one’s talking much. Mystic tries to start a discussion about bikes, but for once no one’s interested. Not when our futures are up in the air and serious decisions will be made on the chapter’s very existence.
At last, when nerves have been stretched almost to breaking point, Brute exits the elevator and steps out into the clubroom. While the prospects don’t have a clue what’s going on, they’re not stupid, and have picked up something significant is happening.
That’s clear by the sombre expression on Brute’s face as he announces, “They’re back. Everyone is required in church.”
37
Swift…
There were twelve seats around this table until Road arrived. Adding him made it an unlucky thirteen. Maybe he brought bad luck with him. We were doing well minding our own business until he came to Utah. Now I, Pip or the club itself could lose everything we’ve worked so hard to build.
Maybe we should have done what Stormy suggested, taken Road out so Drummer never learned anything. But now, just as then, the thought of ending a man just because his appearance was inconvenient didn’t settle well with me, and that was even before I began to get to know him. Now, of course, the idea of Road not breathing is unthinkable. I wouldn’t change a thing or go back and do things differently. Except, a throb of my missing digit reminds me, maybe that night he’d asked me, if I could have dusted off my crystal ball and known what was going to happen, I’d have taken him to bed and have let him have his drunken way with me. Maybe then I’d still have ten fingers.
When we have full church with the additional members, this table can just about comfortably seat fifteen, with Road joining us we could squeeze in one more seat. Today though, seventeen is pushing it, and we’re seated shoulder to shoulder with not much elbow room.
Drummer’s again taken Pip’s chair at the head, with his VP and sergeant-at-arms seated either side of him. Next comes Blade, then Red, a big man with an untamed mane of red hair sitting beside him, and next to him the man who has just introduced himself as the Vegas VP, Crash. Opposite them sit the prez and VP from Colorado, Demon and Beef. Beef, I notice, had exchanged chin lifts with Road, suggesting at one time at least, they’d been friendly. Our final two visitors are Lost and his VP Dart from San Diego. Dart being another man who seems to know Road.
The room is crowded. Leaning against the walls, most looking intimidating with arms folded over their chests, stand the rest of our members. Mystic and Grinch in particular are fidgeting, looking like they’d rather be fixing up engines or being anywhere but here. Goofy, well, he’s unreadable, but then, despite his name, he takes everything seriously.
Once all have shuffled in and assumed positions, Drummer wastes no time picking up the gavel and banging it.
There’s no preamble, if someone hadn’t already picked up on a newcomer’s name and position, then Drummer isn’t going to repeat it. He just dives straight in.
“Never in my years leading the Satan’s Devils have I ever come across a situation such as what I’ve found at Utah.” His steely eyes glare at everybody, singling no one out in particular. “Well, a whole bunch of issues come to think of it. Today’s agenda will be heavy going, so we’ll get straight on with it. First item, there’s a woman sitting around this table who to my mind shouldn’t be here. We’ll start with that. If there is a general concurrence with that observation, she shouldn’t be present for the rest of the discussions.”
They’re beginning with me, not Pip? But I suppose there’s justification for it. Feeling like I’ve been summoned to a court martial, I sit, back ramrod straight and fix my eyes ahead of me. Don’t speak unless spoken to. That adage has always served me well. From Drummer’s wording and the fact they’re dealing with me right at the start strongly suggest they’ve already made the decision. Women aren’t welcome in the Satan’s Devils MC. There will be no right of appeal, no one is higher than the mother chapter prez.
Demon taps the table as an indication he wishes to speak. Drummer nods at him. Demon sits forward and starts to speak. “Our regulations don’t disqualify women, but the unwritten rule is that Devils are men only. We risk every old lady wanting to take up arms and ride with us if we allow a chapter to have a female member.”
Road Tripped: Satan's Devils MC Utah #1 Page 36