Page 17

Heather

A fter the huge revelation that one of their club brothers has come back looking for revenge, the atmosphere at the clubhouse feels different now.

I’d been here before when it was loud and chaotic.

Right now, it’s tamer and more focused. The music is off, and the bar isn’t serving alcohol anymore.

The brothers are congregating amongst themselves, talking, whispering really.

The club girls don’t appreciate being left to their own devices.

The club officers are moving fast between the main room and the club president’s office.

Conversations and sharp nods fill the space like invisible threads tightening around the edges.

It’s clear that they’re planning something or preparing for whatever Jerry has planned. They don’t seem to harbor any ill will towards me for anything and that’s a huge weight off my shoulders.

Right now, I’m sitting at the end of the bar, nursing a glass of club soda, and trying not to make it obvious how out of place I feel.

Ghost is across the room, talking low with Tusk and a few other men whose names I barely know. Their heads are bowed. Their expressions are serious. They remind me of generals, mapping out battlefield strategy.

I should feel safer, and I do, in a way.

But I also feel exposed in a way I don’t know how to hide.

Trying to act casual, I trace the rim of my glass with one fingertip, watching them without being conspicuous.

Trying to blend in amongst the club girls is an impossible task.

They are like bright, sparkling jewels and I’m just a plain Jane.

Maybe if I stay quiet everything will be okay.

I believe that’s going to work, right up until I see a flash of bright lipstick and a matching sequin tube top, and skin-tight denim cutoff shorts moving in the corner of my vision.

I stiffen in my seat, hoping whoever it is just passes by me without stopping to talk. But my luck isn’t in.

It’s Chastity, the very same club girl Ghost chased off at our working lunch a few weeks ago. The one who made it very clear that she didn’t think much of me. The cocky, superior expression on her face now tells me that nothing’s changed.

She leans one elbow on the bar, smiling wide and sweet like she’s about to offer me friendship.

The thing is, she’s not clever and I know better than to take her at face value.

“Hey, Heather,” she says, voice syrupy. “You settling in okay?”

I grip my glass tighter and force a polite smile onto my face. “Fine. Thanks.”

Her eyes flick to where Ghost is still deep in conversation, oblivious to the sly shenanigans.

“Good,” she says lightly. “It’s important not to get too comfortable. You know the brothers all have their routines, their needs, and their favorite club girls. Even Ghost. He’s no different from the rest. Until you came along, he spent a lot of time in my bed.”

She tosses her hair over one shoulder, smiling, enjoying her little games. She flutters her nails in front of my face, as if showing off her new manicure.

“Yeah, I guess he traded up. I know you’ll just fly into another brother’s arms. So, no harm, no foul, right?” I say, deciding to fight fire with fire.

“You’re not wearing his cut, so he’s not yours. Outsiders don’t last long around here. It’s an unfortunate fact that there aren’t enough club girls to go around, so sometimes they resort to outsiders to get their needs met. We know what they like best. Always have. Always will.”

Her smile widens, making her face look like a sick caricature of lipstick and blush.

I shouldn’t be entertaining this club girl with attention, much less conversation. Before I can even process the point she’s trying to make, she keeps going.

“You’re new,” Chastity says, her voice almost purring now. “Outsiders, especially the new women, always think they’re special and it’s different with them.”

I stay quiet, fingers tightening on my glass, mostly because I’m too tired to fight with the girl over nothing.

She leans in, her cheap perfume burning my nostrils and her bad breath filling the air between us.

“The truth is, brothers always come back where they’re most comfortable,” she continues, voice sweet and insulting both at the same time. “And that’s not with outsiders like you. It’s with girls who know how things work. Girls who know what they like. What they need.”

Sick swirls in my stomach and I wonder if I’ve missed my last dose of meds for the day or if it’s just every single thing about this woman that is nauseating.

I don’t believe a word she has to say, particularly about Ghost. I can’t imagine him ever having anything to do with Chastity.

Maybe the other girls, but surely not this one. She seems like a viper.

Still, it’s hard to sit here alone while Ghost is across the room, surrounded by people who belong in this world. While I’m still just trying to figure out club culture all on my own.

“You know Tusk?” Chastity adds, tipping her head towards the group across the room. “He’s one of Ghost’s best friends, a brother for life?”

I nod stiffly. “Of course I do.”

Chastity’s smile widens and becomes crueler.

“He married his favorite club girl. Her name is Brittany. She was one of us before he put a property cut on her back. He turned her into his old lady.”

She says it like it’s proof. Like it’s inevitable. Like I’ll never be enough.

“So don’t get too attached,” she finishes, light and vicious all at once. “They always come back to the ones who already know the rules.”

I open my mouth to tell her off. But truth be told, I don’t even know what I’m planning to say. I have no idea what would even be considered a cunning reply to her rambling insistence that all the club brothers belong with club girls.

That’s when a cooler voice cuts across the space between us.

“Are you finished gossiping about me yet, Chastity?”

I whip my head around.

Brittany stands a few feet away, arms crossed over the front of her property cut. The expression on her face isn’t angry. It’s worse than angry, irritated, or annoyed. It’s simply bored.

Chastity freezes. Color floods her cheeks. She stammers out, “Oh, no, Britt, I wasn’t being snarky. Honestly.”

“You weren’t talking about how my man chose me over the whole damn bullpen?” Brittany asks sweetly, one eyebrow arched. “Or how I’m here wearing his property cut while you’re still standing around hoping someone notices you?”

Chastity’s mouth opens. Closes. Brittany steps closer, smiling just wide enough to flash teeth.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. You’ve got nothing but lies falling out of that pie hole of yours lately. And I don’t want to hear my name cross your lips again. Understand?”

Chastity bucks up in a display of bravado.

“I can say anything I want. Don’t think that because you’re an old lady now that you’re better than me.”

“But I am better than you. Not because I’m an old lady but because I learned you can’t mindlessly bully and torment innocent people for no other reason than my own amusement.

You haven’t learned that yet. You have zero insight into your own personality flaws.

That’s something you need to work on. Now, you need to know that if my name comes out of your mouth again, I’ll have you thrown out the damn door.

And before you give me any sass, you know I can do that.

Unlike you, the brothers like and respect me. ”

Chastity just stands there staring at her with her mouth drawn into a sour pout.

Brittany doesn’t cut her slack though. Instead, she prompts Chastity,

“The only words I want to hear coming out of your mouth are yes ma’am.”

The still-pouting club girl murmurs, “Yes, ma’am,” and then slinks away without another word, practically sprinting towards the back hallway where the restrooms are located.

Brittany watches her go, then slides onto the barstool next to mine like she’s been planning it all along. She bumps my shoulder lightly with hers.

“Sorry you had to listen to that mess,” she says, calm and easy. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

I shake my head, still stunned.

“Of course not. I need to learn whatever wicked magic you were weaving there.”

She grins.

“Exactly. You’re gonna need someone to teach you the real rules around here.”

Brittany flags down the prospect behind the bar and orders two drinks—soda for her, cranberry juice for me.

The moment the glasses hit the bar, she nudges mine towards me.

“Drink,” she says. “Hydration’s important for you right now.”

I blink at her. She just smiles, softer this time.

“Ghost didn’t tell me. It’s written all over you, girl. Don’t worry. Nobody’s saying shit.”

I wrap my hands around the cool glass, grateful for the distraction if nothing else.

Brittany leans her elbows on the bar and tilts her head towards me like we’re swapping secrets.

“Chastity’s right about one thing,” she says. “Most club girls don’t end up with a patch on their back.”

I frown.

“I thought that was kind of the goal of being a club girl.”

She snorts softly.

“Sure it is. I tried to get my hooks in all the good ones, but I was pretty messed up back then. Then I met Tusk when he was prospecting, and it was love at first sight. But that doesn’t happen very often.

Most of the club girls hang around for the parties.

They’re attention-seeking and honestly like bikers.

The brothers here at the Savage Legion treat women right, unlike some clubs.

Some club girls get addicted to the gifts, the fun, and all the great sex.

There’s a lot to like about the brotherhood here at the Savage Legion. ”

I take a sip of my drink and say, “I know exactly what you mean. Ghost has been all kinds of nice to me.”

“Yeah, about Ghost. Do you know how he got his name?”

I shake my head. “Not really. I’m sure it’s a really cool story though.”

Sipping my juice, I can feel the fizz bite at the back of my throat.