Marly could feel Trent's uneasiness and attributed it to the implication that his mate had been deceitful. He rested his hand on the small of Trent's back and smirked at Levi and the other man.
"Trent has standards too, and lucky me, I met them. Why look elsewhere when you've got the best," he said cheekily. As expected the men all laughed, and Marly breathed a little easier.
"I'm Saul, by the way," said the non-Levi person, sticking out his hand. Like Levi, Saul looked him up and down, but Marly didn't get the impression the man wanted a blow job.
"You're supposed to be fighting tonight, for club membership. How's that going to work? You look like a stiff wind would blow you away."
Holding back a snarl, because these men were his mate's friends after all, Marly stepped away from Trent and raised both his hands in the universal "bring it" gesture. Looking at Trent, Saul backed away. "Na man, if I bruise that pretty face, Sarge will kill me."
"You're assuming you'll get that close."
"Go on, Saul," Trent said. "My man's offering you a free go. I'm just going to watch."
Marly caught a muttering of something along the lines of being cocky, but he was too intent on watching Saul's body language to pay his babbling much attention. Saul wasn't as big as Trent, but his muscles were defined, in comparison to Levi who had the build of a teddy bear. Saul's fists were clenched at his side, but Marly noted the instant his right arm muscle tensed. As Saul swung, Marly ducked, punching Saul hard in the stomach before dancing away.
Three more times Saul swung, and Marly ducked and got one in of his own – kidney, stomach again and the final time he kicked Saul in the back of the legs, causing him to stumble and fall. "I can see why you might get somewhere," Saul gasped out, as he leaned over, resting his hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. "You won't fucking stand still."
Marly was so focused on Saul that he didn't hear Levi until the man had grabbed him around his chest from behind. The man might be built like a teddy bear but he had a lot of strength in his arms. As Saul came forward to take advantage of Marly's predicament, Marly kicked up with both legs, wrapping them around Saul's neck. The momentum from his jump caused Levi's arms to shift closer to his neck, and he grabbed both arms for leverage dragging them down, while twisting his hips and taking Saul to the ground. As soon as Saul started to fall, Marly swung his legs back, hooking them around Levi's back, his body weight pulling Levi forward. Using Levi's arms against him, Marly executed the perfect roll off Levi's arms, kicking the man on the side of his head as he went over, and landing on his feet. He turned and stood, arms loose, feet apart, watching Saul and Levi who hadn't moved. The stunned mirrored expressions would have been funny, if Marly wasn't still nervous about going to the club.
"Come on precious," Trent said from behind him. "I think they've got the point. Let's go get this meeting over and done with. Can I count on your support?" He added, looking over at Saul and Levi.
"Yeah man. Always," Levi said coming over and punching Trent on the arm and putting his hand on Marly's head. "Let's get precious to the party. This will be fun."
Marly growled, not because he objected to being called precious, but he rather liked the fact that Trent used it on him occasionally. It wasn't as though his lug of a mate was very handy with terms of endearment and precious was better than princess – something that Trent had called him once when he complained bitterly about a ripped seam in his shirt. Trent never called him that again after the tongue lashing Marly had given him and his mate had replaced the shirt.
He was still sulking when they arrived at the Epitaph's clubrooms. It was better than being nervous.
Chapter Nineteen
For the first time since he'd joined, Trent felt uneasy as he, Levi and Saul all rode their bikes into the compound. He couldn't get it out of his head that when he'd left his home pack, there had been so much shit piled on his head, because of who he loved. He had stayed in wolf form for so long just so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone.
He also knew that he hadn't been the best mate to Marly. Sure they got on around the little apartment that Marly called home, and the sex was amazing. But Trent was aware that a big reason why he'd spent so much time at the club, apart from sorting out deals for the latest shipment they'd gotten from Razor, was so that he didn't have to make excuses for not taking Marly out. Yes, he had lived as a gay man before he joined the Epitaphs, but he hadn't dated, and had hung out in a predominantly gay crowd. Discrimination wasn't something he had faced head on before.
Then there was the fact that Marly was going to have to fight up to six men in the club. Men that Trent had been with for years. Usually when a prospect was invited to fight their way into the club, they had been hanging around on the fringes for months or even years before. They formed alliances, they made friends, and it made the whole process more of a formality than anything else.
Marly hadn't had that opportunity, and while Trent didn't want his mate involved in the inner workings of the club, if it had been possible for him to have at least made some contacts with the other members, then the men who opted to fight him might have gone easy on him. As it was, with his blond good looks, and his cocky attitude, the Epitaph's were going to want to take Marly apart. Or try to.
Trent could feel his wolf riding the surface as he strode into the club with Marly at his side. He was looking for a reason to punch something or someone, he wasn't fussy. It didn't help when the room full of club members went silent as the four men walked in. Trent didn't think he had ever felt so self-conscious in his life and he struggled not to go red in the face. Damn it. He'd lived and played with these people for ten years. If that didn't count for something then he and Marly both were better off in another town, in another place, where they could be a pack of two.
"Trent, Marly, great to see you. I was worried you wouldn't come," Clive said with a half-smile on his face. Grateful for someone to focus on, Trent moved through the crowd to stand by Clive's side, the way he had hundreds of times before. He could hear whispered comments about Marly as the man moved with him, but he ignored them all and prayed Marly was doing the same. Clive shook his hand, and then did the same to Marly, which Trent knew was a huge commitment in the eyes of the club.
"Okay," Clive yelled across the room getting everyone's attention. "Now we are all here, we can begin. First up. Thanks to Sarge's hard efforts over the past few weeks the club coffers are looking healthy. All of you still in the club at the end of the night will be receiving your bonuses as accorded to your position. You can all thank him later."
A cheer went up around the room, and Trent wondered if he was the only one who had cottoned onto Clive's cryptic comment.
"Second, and you'd all better listen carefully to this," Clive continued. "As some of you know already, Trent has found his permanent partner and has offered to leave the club. However, because Sarge makes so much money for this club, and because of what he and his partner did the other day against the Black Skulls I personally vetoed his decision and asked Marly if he'd be prepared to fight his way into club membership."
"But Boss, pretty boy hasn't done his time as a prospect. He hasn't earned the right to fight his way in," someone yelled out, and Trent's eyes scanned the room looking to see who it was. It was one of the prospects who had been with Bob when Marly was attacked the second time.
Clive knew who it was too and his face twisted into a snarl. "Pretty Boy, as you call him, kept his mouth shut about the Epitaph's being responsible for the attack on him and his friend. Then he encouraged Sarge to come back here when we were under attack, even though Sarge had already quit. He fought just as readily as any of you, and he took out the leader of the Black Skulls. Something you weren't around for Digby, despite being phoned in. If I say he has the right to fight for membership, then he has the fucking right to fight."
Digby should have paid attention to the warning tone in Clive's voice, but it seemed he was thick because he didn't shut up. "Well if I fight him, then does that give me membership?"