Page 27 of Romeo

If her SUV needed serviced, she could either get it done for nothing in Manning Grove at Dutch’s Garage or here at Shadow Valley Bodyworks, a garage owned by the DAMC and run by Crash.

Anything she needed could be covered by one of the three clubs. So, she really shouldn’t complain about the MC life. It took good care of her.

Unlike the asshole owner of Smith’s Sports Therapy & Rehab Center.

If her Toyota broke down causing her to be a few minutes late to work, he’d dock her pay by an hour.

If she tripped over a piece of equipment, he’d loudly callher a klutz, or worse, in front of all the patients and employees.

If a client complained over the smallest reason, he’d write her up and mention it in her employee evaluation, using it as an excuse not to give her a decent raise.

He also insisted on calling her Mad instead of Madison or Maddie.

And quite frankly, that made her… mad.

He thought the nickname was funny. She didn’t agree. Maybe if anyone else but him used it, she’d think otherwise.

His biggest—and lamest—joke was, “Are you Mad?” Then he’d guffaw so much and so obnoxiously, she wanted to knee him in the nuts. That would stop the stupidity.

It would also get her fired.

Not to mention, ruin her future as a sports physical therapist for the Pittsburgh Steelers. Then shewouldhave to move to Antarctica and work with penguins. The actual birds, not the NHL hockey team.

She blew out a long breath, started her car and forced herself to turn the steering wheel. She needed to head out of the parking lot before she made a mistake she wouldn’t be able to undo.

Today had been extra difficult.

So, if she couldn’t ram her car into the building, or kick Roger in the nuts without fucking up her future, she needed a damn drink. It was too bad Gabi’s twenty-first birthday hadn’t come and gone yet.

Soon. Then she’d have someone to go out with to the bar or club. A “wing-woman.” Unfortunately, since Gabi was still underage, Maddie had to go out on her own.

She really needed to make more of an effort to find friends around here. Even if they were some of the womenfrom the Dirty Angels. But until then, she could head to her regular drinking spot… The Iron Horse Roadhouse.

Or…

Shecouldgo to Dirty Dick’s.

She’d be safe at either location. She wouldn’t have to worry about protecting her drink when she wasn’t looking. She wouldn’t have to worry about being accosted in a dark parking lot. She’d also be taken care of if, for some reason, she drank too much.

However, at Dick’s she’d be worried about running into Romeo. She already fended off one aggravating man today, she didn’t want to deal with another.

She was tired and her patience was non-existent.

That decided it.

The Iron Horse it was.

Romeo crab-walkedhis sled backwards into the spot next to another Harley, shut it down, pulled off the bandana that kept bugs from getting stuck between his teeth and shed the clear protective glasses he wore when it was too dark to wear his shades.

He decided to leave his skull cap and of course, his cut in place. The DAMC had no problem with other clubs wearing their colors in their establishment as long as it didn’t cause issues. If it did, that cut, along with the troublemaker wearing it, was quickly ejected out the front door by the prospects playing bouncers that night.

But now that the Shadow Warriors MC was long gone and what was left of the Deadly Demons on life support, trouble usually didn’t find its way into the IronHorse Roadhouse.

Unless they considered Romeo trouble. Some of the Angels might.

Hawk had previously run a tight ship and now shared manager duties with Coop. The DAMC vice president was about as present in their bar as much as Magnum was at Dick’s. Basically, he kept himself scarce. While Coop, along with the other long-time DAMC members, kept the bar running smoothly.

As soon as Romeo yanked open the thick, bullet-proof door, the deep bass of loud rock music smacked him right in the chest.

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