“How’d it go?” Odin, our clubs newest patched Vice President asks as I shut off the engine and climb off my bike. He’s outside with a shiny black Doberman.
I shrug. “Fine, I guess.” If a chick calling me cupcake and handing me my ass can be even called fine. “Whose dog?” I change the subject.
“This beauty belongs to Nightmare’s son. I’m dog sitting while Night takes his kid and ol’ lady out of town for a few days.”
“Does it bite?”
“You’ll be fine; just stick your hand out first. The thing about Dobermans is you have to approach them with respect. If you do, most of them won’t harm you. People have the wrong impression of them.”
I nod and do what he suggests, letting the dog smell me before I attempt to touch it.
“Did Chevelle give you any shit?” His smirk is telling.
“I take it you know her?” I rake a hand through my hair, frustrated with my first impression.
He nods, “Yeah, she’s not one to take any shit.”
“She have a man?”
He snorts. “Brother, no one can get close enough. She’s more likely to punch you than kiss you. A few around here think she may prefer women.”
“Nah, she definitely likes men.”
His brow hikes. “No shit? You went over there once, and you already found that out?” He switches the dog leash to his other hand, following the dog’s leisurely lead.
“I may have gotten in her face a bit.” I shrug and scratch the dog behind its cropped ear as we walk.
He tucks his blond hair behind his ears, glancing around the compound. “Damn, I’m surprised she didn’t throw a punch. The last guy I saw grab her ass at a race was drug out of there with a broken nose.” His face lights up with an amused grin at the memory.
Jesus and no one thought to warn me about her beforehand? I was on good behavior; I can only imagine what she’d been like if I’d had a few beers before seeing her. I have a feeling my “me Tarzan, you Jane” usual rationale would’ve landed me with a broken nose as well if I’d have attempted to hike her over my shoulder. Chicks normally love that shit, but apparently, Chevelle isn’t like most chicks. Sounds like she went a bit easy on me when I grabbed her hair and she body slammed me. No wonder she’s the one running The Pit. She can obviously handle herself.
“She ever have anyone around in case she needs help?”
“Chevelle’s not the type to be caught needing help from anyone. She’s smart and cutthroat.”
“Well, she owed Viking apparently.”
He nods. “That happened by chance. Viking had just killed his father and taken over the Widow Makers. Being new to the area and the Oath Keepers he rode with, he wanted us to do something other than drink at the bar.”
“Nothing wrong with the bar,” I grumble, and he continues.
“Anyhow, we rode out to The Pit. People didn’t know what to think when they saw us, two different patches rolling up together, our bikes sounding like angry thunder.”
“What was the big deal?”
“Widow Makers were notorious in the south like the Iron Fists are in the west; they didn’t get along with anyone. Naturally, The Pit calls to a lot of us, the speed and engines, not to mention the fresh pussy floating around and open bets.”
“That’d definitely be somewhere I’d enjoy.”
He nods. “Well, when you have different folks from about sixty different clubs seeing the two together, they band together to challenge you, being that most Austin clubs are on a truce with one another.”
“Oh shit.”
“Viking got them all to chill the fuck out. Saved The Pit from a shit ton of damage. Chevelle was called in since she runs the place. She witnessed everything, and in the end, told Viking thanks and that she owed him. Don’t know what she planned on owing him since he’d had Princess at the time. Hell, half of us thought maybe he was alpha enough that she wanted to actually fuck him.”
“Did he?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, nothing ever came of it. I’m guessing he waited until now to call her on it. And he wouldn’t ever fuck her. He was obsessed with Princess from the moment he saw her from what I’ve heard. He had it bad enough that he chopped a guy’s head clean off for talking negatively about Princess.” We stop walking, and the dog lays in the grass, rolling to expose its belly to Odin.