Page 76 of Proof Of Life
“What-the-fuck-ever,” he mumbles, glaring at McCormick and Stiles.
“Quit your bitching and take a seat,” Stiles snipes.
“All right guys, settle down,” Riggs says, bringing the meeting to order. “We've got fresh meat. You know what to do, gentlemen.”
With a long-suffering sigh, McCormick says, “I'm McCormick, retired Army and member of the American Legion of Riders. I'm also a proud Bitch.”
Stiles snickers. “I'm Stiles, former Army, American Legion Rider, and like McCormick said, I'm a proud Bitch.” He looks to his right.
“Pharo, Army Reserves.”
Jax snorts, rolling his eyes. “Bullshit,” he coughs.
“Why don't you mind your own business and stop worrying about mine,” Pharo insists. “It's your turn.”
“Jax, former Army, ALR, and obviously a Bitch.”
“No shit,” Pharo mumbles.
Ever the peacekeeper, Riggs rolls right over them. “I'm Navarro Riggs. Former Army nurse. I'm a medic with the United States Army Reserves. When I’m not in uniform, I’m a physical therapist. I volunteer here at BALLS and I work at Womack Army Medical Center. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. You already know these two, I assume,” he states, glancing between me and West.
Mandy's eyes circle the group before he speaks. “Cahill, retired Army, and according to these two, I'd make a great Bitch.”
The group laughs, and just like that, the ice is broken, and Mandy sighs with relief. The Bitches pull out their balls and begin to work their wool as they go round-robin style around the circle.
Stiles begins first. “I got a job.”
“Hell yeah,” McCormick cheers.
Those two have the oddest relationship, if you ask me. Constant push and pull. Like brothers.
“It's not much, just slinging grease at a mechanic shop, but it's something, and it gets me out of bed every day.”
“What are your goals this time around?” Riggs asks.
Stiles huffs. “No drinking on work nights past nine. If I can't show up, I should at least give them a call.”
“That would be a great start,” Riggs agrees.
“You got this,” McCormick insists. “Let me know if you're slow at work and I'll bring my bike by for you to change the oil.”
Stiles frowns. “You can change your own goddamn oil, Cheeto Puff.”
“I know I can. I just like to see you kneel before my bike. Like you’re worshiping her.”
Stiles’s eyes bug out. “You're fucking bent in the head.”
“Well, Carly doesn't seem to think so.”
“Who is Carly?”
“My date,” he drops casually.
“Bullshit,” Stiles calls.
“No, I'm serious. I took Rigg’s suggestion and changed my profile to show my leg, and I've had some interest. We're meeting up tomorrow night at the bar.”
Stiles looks like he doesn’t believe a word being said, but he doesn’t push it.