Page 35 of Doozer

She pushed on my chest, backing me to the bed. “Then I think you need to practice.” She shoved me and I fell onto the mattress, and she promptly straddled me.

CHAPTER NINE

Trouble

“ABSOLUTELY, FUCKING, ABSOLUTELY, not,” Minus bellowed. His huge hand slapping down on the top of his heavy oak desk.

“You said absolutely twice,” I replied, dryly.

“That’s how fucking absolute I am.”

“Minus—”

He shook his head. “This isn’t gonna happen.”

“Can you please just hear us out?”

“No fucking way, Trouble. BFK may play fast and loose about its members coming and going but the Burning Saints don’t. I told you that when you patched over. The Saints are a full-time club.”

“I’m not asking for vacation time, Minus. Taxi is asking for my help. He’s asking me to be part of something important.”

“So, the Saints aren’t important to you? The work you do with us for our community isn’t important?”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“Look, Trouble. When Cowboy and I talked about you coming to our club he told me that you’d need to stay busy. He said, as long as you had something to do with your hands, the ghosts in your head would stay quiet. He also warned me that you had a good streak of wanderlust in you. Between your shop schedule and the volunteer work you do with Cricket, I figured we had the first part licked. And I can send you on a run any time you like if you need to get some road under your tires.”

“Minus, this is about something more important than road trips and community fundraisers,” Taxi said.

“You must have moose balls to come into my office and tell me you’re gonna take one of my patches.”

Taxi raised his hands. “I never said I was taking—”

“We had a deal, and now you just waltz in here and try to claim Trouble as property of the US government.”

“Wait a minute. I am no one’s fucking property,” I said, shooting to my feet. “Not yours or his.”

“You sit the hell down.” Minus pointed angrily at me.

“Don’t get pissed at her,” Taxi protested.

“You shut the fuck up,” Minus yelled.

“Look, Minus.” Taxi rose to his feet. “I respect you and all—”

“Would you two please knock it off?” I said, to no avail.

“Goddammit, stop fucking interrupting me,” Taxi shouted.

“Get the fuck out of my office,” Minus shouted even louder.

And so it continued. Minus screaming at Taxi, and vice versa, while I tried and failed to get a word in. Until I couldn’t stand it any longer. Men had dictated my future one way or another for most of my life and I’d simply had enough.

“Shut the hell up!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Both of you. This is my life, and I can do whatever the hell I want with it.” I turned to Minus. “I’m your patch not your possession. If you want to kick me out of the club for insubordination, I’ll heat up the brand myself, but I’m not leaving otherwise. I knew what I was doing when I patched in and my loyalty to the Burning Saints has never wavered. The whole reason Taxi wants me to be part of his team is because I’m a biker. I’m not asking to leave, just a chance to broaden my horizons while helping to protect the club the best way I can.”

“Alright, alright. I can hear you fine. Let’s all take it down a notch,” Minus said, returning to his seat. Taxi and I followed suit.

“The Beast is getting stronger, Minus,” Taxi said. “Daphne might be in the wind, but she’s clearly still calling the shots in Savannah. Los Psychos are fully under their thumb and our intel says the Spiders are next. The Beast organization is smart, well-funded, and ruthless. They’re poised to infiltrate and influence every major player in the southern US, and they will continue moving west if we don’t stop them. The FBI needs a foothold into their world, and I’m risking my career by betting on bikers to get the job done. Training has already started in Virginia and I’m out of time.”

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