“What’s she doing here? I thought she was leaving,” Eva sneered as Colt and Sierra walked into the common room of the DVMC the next morning.
“Change of plans,” Colt said. “She wants to join up.”
“What do you mean she wants to join up?”
“Just what it sounds like.”
“So just like that we’re going to let her join?”
Colt saw Fletcher stand up and begin to approach. “Why not? She has earned a right to apply.”
“Fuck that!” Monica chimed in, shoving her way to the front. “She needs to get her ass out before I throw it out.”
Sierra felt her temper rising, but she held her tongue, just like Colt told her to.
“She has as much right to join as anyone else,” Colt countered. “I’m sponsoring her.” Fletcher coasted to a stop beside him, looking at him questioningly. Colt spared him a glance then returned his attention to Monica and Eva.
“Why? Because she lets you dip your dick in some fresh pussy?” Monica asked.
“Because she can handle herself. The job she turned us onto went off without a hitch. She got the money and got out with no problems. How many jobs have you gone on in the last year, Eva?”
“When was the last time you gave me a chance?” the woman countered.
“When was the last time you were completely straight?” Colt picked an empty beer can off the table. “Here, catch!” he said, tossing the can to her. It was an easy underhanded toss that most people could have caught easily, but Eva fumbled it badly. “That’s what I thought. So hung over or strung out you’d probably end up shooting one of us.”
“Fuck you, Colt!” Eva spat. “We’re as good as she is. Better!”
Sierra started to step forward, ready to prove this bitch wrong, but Colt placed his hand in front of her, stopping her. “Sure you are,” he said sarcastically. He walked the three steps to the can and picked it up, turning and throwing it to Sierra without warning. It wasn’t a hard throw, but it wasn’t an easy underhand toss either.
Sierra jerked her hands up to catch it but wasn’t quick enough, batted the can into the air, then caught it as it fell.
“Yep,” Colt sneered at Eva. “Just as good.”
“This isn’t right!” Monica cried out, turning to face the brothers and sisters of the club. “You know what’s going to happen to her, right? She’s going to be another pet! Another pet just like Perri, McKenzie, and Bobbi. They get all the jobs and we are left here with nothing but the scraps! Well I say fuck that shit!”
The club was clearly beginning to form into two groups, and Gunner stepped forward. “Why don’t you take her outside?” he suggested softly, giving Colt a slap on the back.
Colt glared at Gunner but decided he was probably right. He knew his crew had his back, and maybe with Sierra out of sight Gunner and the rest of his crew, along with those who typically supported them, could smooth things over with the rest of the club.
“You sure about this?” Fletcher asked as he turned to walk out. Colt opened his mouth to tell the man to go fuck himself, but Fletcher continued. “Remember what happened to Anna,” he said softly, placing a hand on Colt’s shoulder to show his support.
Colt softened, remembering the last time a woman who wasn’t in the life had come in. Gunner had sponsored Anna, and in less than a year, the woman was gone and Gunner was threatening to kill Monica. It had taken not only him, but Fletcher, too, to talk him down. He knew the risks when he’d sponsored Anna, but he thought he could protect her. He was wrong.
Colt nodded, clearly getting what Fletcher was saying. “No. But she’s a hell of a lot tougher than Anna,” he replied softly as he slapped Fletcher on the shoulder.
Fletch sucked on a tooth a moment then nodded. “Good enough.”
Colt took Sierra and steered her into the barracks area of the club, and out the back of the clubhouse.
“Not exactly the warm welcome that I was hoping for,” Sierra said as the door swung shut behind them. Even in the shadow of the building, the heat was climbing rapidly.
“About what I expected, though,” Colt sneered, giving the door a middle finger.
“I don’t know what their beef is. I haven’t done anything to them.”
“It’s the same shit every time. Everyone is so fucking afraid someone else is going to get ahead that we are constantly fighting among ourselves. Its stupid shit like this that pisses me off.”
“Maybe this was a bad idea and I should just go to—”
“Fuck that!” Colt snarled. “You can go if you want, but if you back down now you’ll never have another chance. They’ll eat you alive.”
Sierra licked her lips. The thought of all that money was a powerful lure, but she didn’t want to have to watch her back all the time either. She knew she wasn’t a fighter and she didn’t relish the idea of having the shit regularly beaten out of her. “I know. That’s why…” she began but then ground to a stop. She was tired of being pushed around, tired of people taking advantage of her. She had just as much right to be here as any of those bitches, maybe more the way Colt was talking. “You’re right. Fuck ‘em. Show me how to fight so I can take care of myself. You said Bobbi could take of herself. Do you think she can teach me?”
Colt frowned then nodded. “I guess. You would have to ask. She leaned that shit years ago, when she was a kid, and then has spent years perfecting it. You don’t have that much time.” He paused, thinking. “Let me teach you a few moves now, moves you can use to defend yourself if you have to.”
She smiled. It felt good to be taking charge of her life for the first time. “Yeah, okay. Don’t hurt me, though.”
He smiled and slipped off his colors. “Yeah, okay. But I’m not going to be fucking around. Once I show you a move, you better get it because if you don’t it’s going to hurt. Nothing will teach you how to fight faster than getting hit. You up for that?”
She felt a chill, the rush of not only excitement but impending doom as well. Colt could probably kill her, easily, with his bare hands. “Just start out slow, okay?”
He nodded. “Put your hands up,” he said, pulling his own hands up in a boxing stance and began to bounce on his toes. When she did, he stopped moving and took her hands and positioned them properly. She has a lot to learn.
Goddamnit! Sierra snarled to herself as she wiped her lip, again. He kept reaching between her blocks and slapping her face. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it stung like a bitch!
“Sierra,” Colt said in exasperation. “You have got to keep your left up! That’s why I keep getting through. Every time you throw a cross, you drop your left.” She was getting it, but it was slow going. He’d started by teaching her how to throw a punch. He didn’t understand why men seemed to instinctively know how to throw a punch and women didn’t, but after showing her how to first jab, then cross, he’d started her working on trying to hit his hands.
She was working hard, focused and determined, listening to his advice. It was interesting how it seemed to click all at once and her jabs suddenly increased exponentially in power. Her cross soon followed, and now her fists were popping solidly into his hands.
He then started moving with her, giving her moving targets. She nearly broke his thumb once when she almost missed his hand, but they kept at it. She would never have the power in her punch that a big man would, but for a woman who, an hour ago, didn’t know how to hold her hands up, she was doing fine.
After her punches were working, they started working on defense as he showed her how to take blow on her shoulder, or duck out of the way. She picked that up even quicker, using her quick reflexes to her advantage. But when she started trying to put it all together, it had all fallen apart.
The first thing he had to do was break her of wading into a punch when trying to land one. That was the way brawlers fought, and while that might work for a big man with a cast-iron jaw, he preferred to stand off, find his range with his jab and then put their lights with a hard cross.
“I fucking know!” she snarled in frustration. She was about sick of getting hit in the face. She backed off and began to move around again, keeping her chin down as he’d shown her. She was at a severe disadvantage in reach, but he was letting her get in her range before slapping her around…the shit.
She saw the jab coming, blocked it, threw a counter punch, kept her fucking left up and her chin down, jabbed again, and then saw her opening.
He’d gotten lazy with her, and when he saw the cross coming it was too late. He tried to dodge back, but he’d let her get in too close and hadn’t kept his own chin down. The right hit him smack in the mouth, snapping his head back. “Goddamnit!” he snarled, stepping back out of range and keeping his hands up to block another blow.
“Shit!” she cried, shaking her hand, grimacing, and dancing around in pain. It felt like she’d just hit a concrete wall as hard as she could. “Are you okay?”
Colt spat a large red blob on the ground. “Jesus Christ! I pity the man who has to take that right cross. You punch like a fucking mule!” He’d been hit harder before, a lot harder, but never so hard by a woman. “That’s how you fucking do it!”
“I think I broke my hand!”
“Do this,” he said, holding his hand up and opening and closing his hand into a fist. When Sierra repeated the move, he smiled. “Nah, you’re okay. When it hurts your hand, you know you landed a good punch. You will hardly feel it in a real fight, but when you do, that’s when you go in for the kill. I think that’s enough of that for now. How do you feel?”
“Hot. Sweaty. Out of breath. My hand hurts.” She smiled. “But, other than that, I feel pretty good. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Colt spat again. “Yeah. I’m okay. You still have a lot to learn, but you should be able to keep someone off you with that jab and cross. Next I’ll show you how to work the body to wear someone down, but that’s for another day. Your arms are probably going to be sore as it is.”
“So we’re done?” She hoped so. Here arms were already so tired it was an effort just to keep her fists up.
“Yeah. With that. Let me show you how to break a couple of holds and then we’ll call it day. We’ll go find out if Fletch and the guys knocked some sense into those assholes.
“I could use a drink, too.”
“Me, too. But this won’t take long. Turn around. So if someone comes up and grabs you around the neck, like this,” Colt said, placing an arm around her neck, “this is what I want you to do.”
Colt and Sierra entered the clubhouse. The crowd that had been surrounding them when they left had dispersed and things seemed quiet.
Colt saw Nic sitting in a chair flipping through a Harley accessories catalog and changed direction. “How’d it go?” he asked as he approached.
“I think we got everything calmed down. I think the big beef is you brought her in as a 24, then took her on the job, then sponsored her as a candidate.”
“So?”
“So, they think they’ve been set up. You know how it is. They think you are trying to edge them out.”
Colt snorted. “I am, but that’s not what this is about. Not all of it anyway.”
Nic gave him a sideways grin. “Don’t worry about it. They’re just in a pissy mood, that’s all.”
“Well, they can just get out of a pissy mood. She has as much right to be here as any of us. She is coming in the same way we all did.”
“I know. They know it, too. But that doesn’t change how they feel. It’ll blow over.”
“So, you came back?” Mayla snarled as she sauntered across the floor. “I thought maybe you had gone running home with your tail between your legs. You don’t belong here.”
“Shut the fuck up, Mayla,” Colt snarled. “She has a much right to be here as you do. As any of us do.”
“I say she doesn’t.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s not up to you. You’re just a club bitch. The table makes the call.”
“And look who sits on at the table. All the members you have in your pocket.”
Colt smiled nastily. “What a shame.”
“I agree with Mayla,” Tinder said, walking up. “This shit isn’t right. She hasn’t paid her dues like the rest of us. She isn’t even a member and she is already going on jobs? That’s bullshit, Colt, and you know it.”
“I told you before, it was her idea. You bring me a job and we’ll talk about you going. But you’d rather sit here and let the rest of us do the work. So excuse me if I don’t worry over what you think.”
“So is she going to go on more jobs, jobs she doesn’t come up with?”
“If I need her, yes. She has proven herself.”
Tinder turned and addressed the members that were beginning to assemble again. “See? What did we tell you? Colt, his whole group, pick their favorites.” He turned back to Colt. “This is fucked Colt. We’re not going to let you do this shit to us. You’ve been fucking us for a couple of years now and it stops, here and now.”
“Are you challenging me, Tinder?” Colt asked, his voice becoming slow and dangerous.
Paul rose from his chair where he has been watching and listening. “Is it, Tinder? Are you challenging Colt for the VP spot?”
Tinder stared at Colt a moment then looked away. “No. But it’s still not right, and you know it.”
“Colt’s right,” Paul said. “Anyone can sponsor a prospect.”
“This is bullshit!” Mayla cried. “I challenge her!”
“She’s not even a prospect yet!” Colt objected. “You can’t challenge her!”
“What’s the matter, Colt? She too good to live by the club rules? Or just those you don’t like? She wasn’t a prospect before but she got to run a job! What’s it going to be, Colt? It’s one way or the other!”
“No! She has to be—”
“I accept!” Sierra said, cutting him off. “I’m not afraid of this dried up bitch. I get to choose the challenge, right? Me and her, first to come. No toys, no help.” She thought about using what Colt taught her to punch the woman’s lights out, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to go to fists…yet. It was one thing to spar with Colt, but something else to be in a real fight.
Colt stared at Sierra. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes I do, and I’m going to kick her ass.”