Road Tripped: Satan's Devils MC Utah #1

by Manda Mellett

  “Exactly,” Blade confirms. I wince when he slams the tip of a knife into the hitherto unmarked tabletop and leaves it there quivering.

  Drummer shakes his head at his enforcer’s action, before remarking, “It’s a can of worms certainly, and one we may be best to keep the lid firmly on.”

  Stormy opens his mouth but shuts it when Thor puts his fist in his stomach, effectively silencing him. As he doubles over, I’m left wondering whether what he was going to say was in support of Drummer’s assertion. Stormy hates everyone, but me, it would seem, in particular.

  The red-headed man with the appropriate name waggles his fingers. “Most women wouldn’t get through the prospecting stage. I haven’t got an old lady, so I’ve no iron in this fire. But those of you who have, can you really see them going through our probation and surviving?”

  “Tash would help me bury a dead body.” Blade grins widely.

  “Darcy would dig the fuckin’ hole,” Peg observes, winking at Blade.

  Making a concerted effort, I stop my eyes from rolling. But would they create the corpse, killing without blinking? Only this week I took out two men and while I may have since lost sleep, it wasn’t as a result of killing them. No, my lack of sleep had been down to Road and I fucking. Even at that thought, I keep my face impassive.

  Red raises his chin, acknowledging their contributions, but he holds the floor. “Swift, can you remind us of your qualifications?”

  I start at the direct question, and answer succinctly, “British Army trained. Served eight years, made the rank of corporal. Accepted into the SAS but invalided out before I could take up any assignment.”

  Red nods, then his gaze moves to Drummer. “Swift’s background is exceptional. If a man came to us with those credentials, we’d bite off his hand to recruit him. I understand Pip was instrumental in her joining, and that that was his reasoning.”

  “Pip?” Drummer queries.

  “Red’s right,” my prez confirms. “When I met her, she got me out of a tight spot, and I recognised her potential.”

  “How do your members feel about having a woman around the table?” This question is from Beef.

  Stormy’s not going to be silenced again. He leans back out of reach of Thor and jumps in without asking permission. “Swift is as good, if not better, than any fuckin’ man around this table. Me fuckin’ included. I have no problem riding beside her. Hell, half the time I forget she’s any different to anyone else.” His unexpected support takes me by surprise, as do the murmurs of agreement from the brothers standing.

  Drummer narrows his eyes, wanting confirmation. “Utah members. Show of hands if you’re happy to have a woman member in your club. If you’ve got doubts about her, no one’s going to hold it against you.”

  I don’t look, I can’t. It had taken me time to earn the trust of everyone normally seated around this table, but perhaps now they’re asked a direct question, it’s possible someone will show a previously hidden grievance.

  “Anyone uncomfortable with Swift being a member?”

  “It’s unanimous,” Red observes. He sits back and folds his arms. “Two questions come to my mind. First, is it right that men who haven’t ridden with her, judge her? Second, if we let her stay on, what does that mean for other chapters?”

  “Not having women members in Colorado,” Demon pronounces, his face set.

  “Can’t see it in San Diego,” Lost offers, then qualifies, “Unless they served with Delta Force.”

  “Are there women in Delta?” Dart enquires.

  “Support roles only, I believe,” Peg offers.

  Drummer raps his knuckles on the table taking back control. “If I read you right, then if a woman with Swift’s background or similar wanted to become a member, then you wouldn’t have a problem with her joining?”

  Red raises his chin. “Prospecting is fuckin’ hard. As long as we make no allowances, that should weed them out pretty damn fast. I suspect Utah made it even harder on Swift.”

  They had done, I know it.

  Lost indicates he has something to say, and Drummer lets him. “We’ve been through our regulations in the same way as Pip probably did and found there’s no exclusion for females. So why change anything? I’m with Red. A potential prospect has to impress us as a hangaround even before getting their prospect patch. If a woman did impress, then I can’t see a problem with giving them a chance. But I wouldn’t actively encourage it. With no disrespect, or maybe it’s the opposite, with respect to Swift, this life isn’t for the fainthearted. Swift must have proved she’d give her life for the men she rides beside.”

  Again I hear murmurs of agreement from behind me.

  “We’ve got a lot to discuss today, so maybe we can draw a line under it.” Drummer bangs the gavel to show he’s going to announce his decision. “No changes necessary to our regulations. If a woman wants to join, our customs would discourage it unless she was exceptional like Swift.” He nods toward me. “For now, while the Utah chapter exists, you, Swift, have the sanction of the Satan’s Devils to stay a full member.”

  He stares at me while that sinks in. I don’t think until that moment I realised how much I’d expected the opposite. When the breath I’d been holding leaves me, he turns his attention to Pip.

  “If you’d come to me earlier, we could have avoided having to debate her membership in public. The argument that her credentials override her lack of a dick would have been just as persuasive then as now. Which brings us to the reason why I, and my fellow prezes are so irate about this situation. You’re too fuckin’ secretive.”

  I’d always looked to Pip as the leader, like a general leading his army. He makes the final decision, and nobody questions it. But today, faced down by Drummer, he shifts uneasily in his seat.

  “Point well made, Drummer.” Pip raises his chin.

  “Now we discuss your future, Pip.” Drummer tugs his beard as he moves on to the next item on the agenda. “The regs might be grey when it comes to Swift, but in your case, they’re fuckin’ black and white. You don’t ride, you can’t be a member. That follows, you can’t be the prez of this, or any chapter.”

  “We’ve discussed a trike—”

  Thor’s suggestion is cut off and met with disdain. The suggestion clearly comes ten years too late.

  “You mentioned secrecy, Drummer. I’d like to discuss what the fuck the Utah chapter does.”

  Drummer acknowledges Red’s comment with a raise of his chin and then stares down to the opposite end of the table.

  “We deal in information,” Pip says. “Primarily we deal with preventing, and if that fails, interceding in kidnapping operations. We also find out about people trafficking, and either step in if there’s anything we can do, or let the authorities have the information. In addition, we aid pipelines helping people escape abusive situations.”

  Demon starts to open his mouth, but Drummer forestalls him. “Before we get into specifics, let’s keep to the general issues.” He waits until Demon sits back again, and then accuses Pip, “You’re using the club as a front.”

  “Yes, and no,” Pip starts. “Devil, Jason Deville, suggested I step in when Utah was in a fuckin’ mess and needed direction. Yes, it’s a cover where I can do shit and stay undetected, but information is the business of this club, in the same way as you run your tattoo parlours and strip clubs.”

  “And our security operation,” Red inputs.

  “Ours too,” Demon offers.

  Crash raises his hand. When Drummer nods at him, he asks, “On these missions of yours, is there anything to connect you back to the Satan’s Devils?”

  “Nothing,” Pip reassures him. “We don’t wear cuts and go in incognito, usually masked.”

  Drummer’s tapping against the table again. “On the face of it, we could say Utah is just in a different business to ours.”

  “They think they’re better than us,” Blade interrupts. “They take us for fuckin’ fools, them and their fuckin’ secrecy.” He
extracts the knife from where it’s stilled lodged in the table and now points the blade straight at Stormy.

  “Blade.” Drummer’s warning growl gets a huff from his enforcer, but he does stand down. “Pip, again, why the secrecy?”

  Pip blows out air and shakes his head. “I’m ex-CIA. It’s ingrained in me to play things close to my chest, and to treat everyone with suspicion. It’s my fault, not anyone else’s, though some of my instincts may have rubbed off.” I don’t miss his side-eyed glance toward Stormy.

  “I don’t have a problem with Utah being in a different business,” Red notes. “But we,” he indicates Crash sitting silent beside him, “do have a problem with being played for fools. I can’t count the times Snatcher’s come cap in hand begging Keys to get them some information, because ‘they don’t have a computer guy.’” He puts the last phrase in air quotes.

  “Or Cad,” Demon growls.

  “Token too,” Lost agrees.

  “And fuckin’ Mouse.” Blade looks furious on his brother’s behalf.

  The men standing against the walls shift, and some exchange sneaky smiles. Drummer of course, notices. “It’s no fuckin’ laughing matter. You’ve been wasting our time.”

  “Helping you too,” Pip inputs. “When Devil was helping Mouse find Mariana, some of that information came from us. We work with Devil’s team quite a lot.”

  “How you help us is a matter we’ll get to in a moment. But for now, this is about you, Pip.” If Drummer’s tone was directed toward me, I’d want to slide under the table, despite my experiences facing down commanding officers. But Pip stares back firmly.

  “We’ve already decided Pip. You can’t ride for a start which disqualifies you, and you’ve been lying to the Satan’s Devils for years. A chapter can’t appoint a prez without agreement from the mother chapter, and such permission was never sought. I can’t rescind what I never allowed, but seeing as you stepped into the prez seat, I’m telling you to step back out.”

  Pip’s eyes shutter.

  “Now wait a minute, Drummer.” Snatcher jumps to Pip’s defence. “We need Pip to lead us. We need him in this club. We do good fuckin’ work, and that will stop if we don’t have Pip’s contacts, or his ability to direct us. Have you any idea how many little girls sleep safe in their beds at night because we’ve prevented a kidnapping or gotten traffickers locked up? Our business isn’t like deciding whether to open or close a tattoo parlour. You shut us down, then there’d be ramifications, and not of the kind anyone would like.”

  Drummer’s eyes become slits as he stares at our VP. “Don’t think I don’t see you as a liar too, Snatch. For ten years you’ve pulled the wool over my eyes.”

  Snatcher goes red, but he can’t argue with that. By acting as the figurehead prez, he had indeed perpetuated a lie.

  “We,” Drummer pointedly lets his gaze fall on Red, Demon and Lost in turn, as though emphasising he speaks for them all, “agree that the work you do is too important to bring to a halt if we can avoid it. But there are conditions to Utah continuing to hold a Satan’s Devils charter.” Both Pip and Snatcher sit forward, their eyes staring intently. “First, you will be under a probationary period of six months. The Utah prez will report to me and keep me updated. Weekly at least, more often if necessary. You don’t so much as breathe without my fuckin’ permission.”

  Pip gives a quick up and down jerk of his head. I think at this moment he’d agree to almost anything.

  Red catches Drummer’s attention. “After six months, if Utah is still in existence, the communication doesn’t stop.”

  Again Pip nods. “Now everything’s out in the open, there’s no reason to be secretive.”

  Personally I think that’s a weight off all our shoulders.

  Drummer eyes the other prezes, then his stare goes to the man sitting at the other end of the table. “There’s another condition to Utah retaining the charter. You, Pip, will step aside. Snatcher, though fuck me he doesn’t deserve it, takes back the top seat.” Now his stern gaze moves to the man seated at Pip’s side. If anything, his eyes harden. “One fuck up, Snatcher, just one, and it won’t be the patch you lose, it will be your fuckin’ life.”

  Snatcher glances toward Pip, who shrugs. It looks like mentally he’s already packing his bags. “I can’t do this without Pip,” Snatcher states. “Utah won’t be able to—”

  “Let me fuckin’ finish,” Drummer requests, and not too gently. “I’m persuaded Pip’s contribution is vital to Utah. He stays at the club. For all intents and purposes he’ll continue doing what he’s done up to now, but as an advisor, not as the prez.”

  Lost looks at the man under the spotlight with sympathy in his eyes. “You can’t ride, man, per se, you can’t wear a Satan’s Devils cut.”

  Pip seems like he’s computing Drummer’s words. “You’re saying I live at the club. I keep my office. I retain my contacts and direct the chapter in what needs doing and send them out?” A bit of life has come back into Pip’s eyes.

  Drummer raises his gaze, regarding the men standing. “Any of you have a problem with that?”

  “Fuck no,” is echoed around.

  “Snatch?”

  Snatcher looks like a weight has been lifted from his mind. “If that’s okay with prez… Pip.”

  Pip raises his chin at the man at his side. “Division of labour won’t be much different to what it is now.”

  “You’ll come to church as an advisor?”

  Pip does a chin lift again. “Whenever I’m invited… Prez.” The title directed toward Snatcher sounds odd coming from Pip’s mouth, but I suppose we’ll get used to it.

  Drummer heaves a loud sigh. “Fuck it. We’re only halfway through the agenda. Someone get the prospects to bring some beers in. My throat is fuckin’ dry.”

  38

  Road…

  I’ve stayed quiet, not wanting to draw attention to myself, but from where I’m sitting, so far, the meeting is going well. Swift’s our first official female Satan’s Devil, her position now ratified. On her behalf, I’m pleased. As for Pip, well, he had that coming. Unless he gets a bike, which his lack of flesh and blood legs makes improbable and seeing he’s no inclination to even ride a trike being prez is an anomaly. But apart from taking away his leather, there won’t be much difference. He’ll still guide the club, with Snatcher doing the day-to-day MC business, so nothing has materially changed.

  Quiet conversations start around me in this informal break. When the prospects appear with trays full of bottles and start handing them out, I think we all need a moment to step back from the intensity of this meeting. It’s not over by a long shot. It doesn’t escape me there are still the matters of myself and Stormy still be up for discussion.

  Men stand, stretch, and in at least one case, farts audibly. Swift’s head swings around in the direction of the sounds, but if I was expecting a ladylike admonishment, that doesn’t come. Instead she places her hand against her chest and gives a loud belch.

  I notice the sound catches Blade’s attention. His eyes shoot to her and narrow as a thoughtful expression appears on his face. None of the Utah crew seem surprised. Not that they should be, here Swift is just one of the guys.

  It amuses me. I’m still softly chuckling when she leans into me. “You okay?”

  “Fuckin’ relieved so far.”

  “I thought I was out.” Her features are more relaxed than they were earlier. Worry lines have smoothed out.

  “Nah. Drummer was always going to let you stay.”

  She regards me curiously. “It didn’t seem that way.”

  I nod toward the man I’m talking about. “Drummer does that. Says something to get people thinking, then circles back to what he wanted all along. Makes him a good fuckin’ leader. When all’s said and done, everyone thinks they came to the decision by themselves.”

  “I’m sorry for Pip.”

  “I’m not.” I brush back my hair. “Devil and Pip were playing a game, using this chapter for the
ir own purposes. Now Pip works for the club rather than the club working for him. Won’t make much difference in practice, but it’s a solution to get everything above board. Pip’s lucky he’s so fuckin’ valuable. Blade wanted him kicked out or dead.”

  Her eyes go wide. “He told you that?”

  I snort. “Nah, I know Blade, I could see it in his eyes.”

  “Will everyone accept that compromise?”

  “Compromise was already decided on in the pre-meet, that’s why there wasn’t too much discussion. So yeah, it’s been accepted.”

  The gavel bangs, and silence descends. “Who’s your secretary?” Drummer enquires.

  “That’s me. I’m treasurer and double as notetaker.” Rascal waves his hand.

  “I’ve just been reminded that while Utah cannot put Pip back in the prez’s seat, you do need to vote on the man to replace him. Put that top of the agenda for your next church, and note Snatcher is the strong suggestion of the mother chapter prez.”

  “Can we get that out of the way now?” Thor asks.

  “I vote Snatcher prez and Thor VP,” Preacher suggests. “All those in favour?”

  There’s a chorus of ayes.

  “We need an enforcer.” Surprisingly it’s Grinch who points that out.

  “I vote Swift,” comes from Bolt.

  The eyes of the woman at my side open wide. “Fuck yeah,” I hear her say under her breath, making me grin wide.

  Drummer has gone still as a statue, then suddenly he barks an incredulous laugh. “Just when I didn’t think things could get fuckin’ worse.” His head moves from side to side, and he bangs the gavel. “I’ll ratify Snatcher as prez and Thor as VP for now, but you can discuss how this flows down later. That’s Utah business.”

  Blade’s eyeing Swift carefully, his head tilted slightly to the side. Suddenly he grins wide, points his knife toward her, and raises his chin.

  “You want that job?” I ask Swift quietly out of the side of my mouth, seeing she’s got a mark of respect from the Tucson enforcer.