Bobbi — *Roleplay*

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The heater clicked, fogging the glass. Rain hit the windshield harder now, and as they drove back toward the city lights, the music from Bred2Buck — faint and warm — carried just far enough on the night air to remind them that some storms don’t end.

They just change zip codes.

🧵✔️

Minutes later they were back in the truck, engine humming soft.

“You don’t scare easy,” Mitch said finally.

“I save fear for when it’s useful.”

He laughed under his breath. “Dwight wasn’t kidding.”

“About what?”

“You can handle yourself.”

She raised her phone, snapped photos—faces, plates, crate labels. One of the men turned, brow furrowing. Mitch tensed, hand near his jacket.

Bobbi’s fingers brushed his arm. “Don’t. He’s not sure what he saw.”

The man looked again, hesitated, then went back to his smoke.

“Nervous means dirty,” Mitch muttered.

They got out, kept low. The air smelled like rain and diesel. Bobbi moved smooth—no sound, no wasted motion. Mitch followed her lead, staying in her blind spot.

“Dunmire rigs,” Mitch muttered.

“Four outside,” Bobbi said, scanning. “Maybe two more in the cab.”

“You read that fast.”

“I’ve had practice. See the one with his phone?” she said quietly. “That’s the boss. Watch his feet—he’s nervous.”

They drove in silence after that, windshield wipers keeping rhythm with the hum of tires. Streetlights stretched long and gold over the wet road.

When they reached the industrial park, two trucks sat by the dock — black, idling, exhaust curling white into the rain.

Mitch’s truck smelled of wet leather and pine air freshener, heater clicking to life as they pulled onto the slick two-lane.

“You new in town and Dwight sends you on the fun stuff?” Mitch asked.

“Guess he trusts me.”

“He don’t trust easy.”

“Neither do I,” she said, eyeing the man beside her.

“Take her.”

She set her glass down and pulled on her coat, calm as ever.

“You sure?” Mitch asked.
“Yeah.”

They stepped out into the drizzle. The cold bit sharp, breath visible in the air.

The band had just finished their second set when Dwight’s phone buzzed. He checked it, frown deepening.

“Mitch.”

The younger man leaned in. “Yeah?”

“Dunmire trucks on sixty-one. Supposed to be a light run. Go see if it’s true.”

Mitch glanced toward Bobbi. Dwight followed his look.

🧵 Trial by Fire

Cold rain, quiet streets, and a job that didn’t wait for fair weather.

#BuiltForTheLife
#ForFamily

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“Then we’re lucky she’s on our side.”

The two men clinked their glasses lightly, watching her settle into the crew like she’d been there all along.

No titles. No lanes.
Just the work—and the loyalty that holds it together.

🧵✔️

Across the room, Tyson raised a toast to something Bobbi had said. She laughed—a real one, sharp around the edges.

“You gonna tell her what we do?” Mitch asked.
“She’ll figure it out,” Dwight replied.

Mitch smirked. “And if she figures it faster than the rest of us?”

“And you think she’s ready to trade one war for another?”
“She didn’t come here for quiet,” Dwight said, voice even. “She came here for family. You know what that means.”

Mitch nodded slowly, the understanding between them unspoken.

“Then she’s in.”
“She’s in,” Dwight confirmed.

“Yeah,” Dwight murmured, watching her. “Always did.”
“You gonna tell me where she came from, or we just guess?”

Dwight chuckled under his breath.

“Marine Corps. Then some…agency work. Smart, disciplined, keeps her head down. She’s earned her peace.”

Mitch followed Dwight’s gaze.

Later that night, the crowd thinned. The bar hummed low—glasses clinking. Bobbi was still at the table, half-listening to Bodhi and Grace argue about margins while she nursed her drink.

Mitch leaned against the bar beside Dwight, arms crossed.

“She’s got presence,” he said finally.

🧵 The Quiet Question

No titles. No lanes. Just whoever shows up when it counts.

#BuiltForTheLife
#ForFamily

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Bobbi took her seat beside Dwight, already reading the lay of the land: who watched quietly, who cracked jokes to cover nerves, who tested first and trusted later.

Tulsa didn’t welcome outsiders easy.
But for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t one.

🧵✔️

“Careful,” Bobbi said with a half-smile. “I might take that literally.”
That earned a laugh from everyone—including Dwight.

Goodie raised his glass.

“To family.”

Dwight and the crew echoed him—some curious, some cautious—but all in.

Music swelled again, and the hum of conversation returned.

“You walked in here like you already own half the room. You military?”

Bobbi’s mouth curved slightly.
“Something like that.”

Dwight arched a brow but didn’t correct her. Grace smirked.
“Thought so.”

Bigfoot rumbled from the end, lifting his beer.
“Long as she pulls her weight, she’s good by me.”

That answer earned a few knowing looks around the table.

Tyson offered a hand, boyish grin quick to appear.
“Welcome to Tulsa, Ms. Manfredi.”
“Bobbi’s fine,” she said, shaking firmly.

Bodhi and Grace watched the exchange. She was tapping a manicured nail against her glass.

He gave Bobbi a once-over—not checking her out, just reading the posture, the stance. “You just passing through, or you planning on stickin’ around?”

“I’m not passing through,” Bobbi said evenly. “I came to work.”

Mitch’s smile widened, quiet approval. “Good. We could use another steady hand.”

Mitch leaned forward first, curiosity plain.

“You never said you had family headin’ this way.”
“Didn’t know till she walked in,” Dwight replied.

Mitch leaned back in his chair, an easy half-smile breaking through.
“Figures. Dwight’s version of a heads-up is a phone call after the fact.”

Dwight steered Bobbi back toward the table where his crew waited, hand light on her shoulder.

“All right, listen up,” he said, voice carrying over the band. “This here’s Roberta Manfredi—Bobbi. My niece.”

That got a few raised eyebrows and one low whistle.

🧵 The Introductions

In this town, trust isn’t given. It’s clocked, tested, and earned. One look at her—and they knew she wasn’t just passing through.

#BuiltForTheLife
#ForFamily

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Bobbi took it all in—the unfamiliar faces, the strange room, the weight of belonging she hadn’t expected.

She’d never been to Tulsa.
But she was with family.
And that was enough to feel like home.

🧵✔️

Behind them, Joanne was already waving her over, the crew still watching with quiet curiosity. The music rolled back in, laughter rising with it, and the night settled warm and loud around them.