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“How are you feeling today?” He asked me.
“I’m doing just fine,” I said as I continued to wipe down the counter. I wasn’t sure what everyone did to it when I was home for the day, but it was gross again by the time I came back in to work.
“Don’t trust the new prospects for shit yet. Need you to make a run to the Pig and get some shit stocked up. Minx went through the kitchen and made a list for me.” He handed it over to Tripp.
“Hey, look at that, two months after becoming a full member, I’m still a prospect,” Tripp joked.
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll take that patch and make it true.” The only reason it was obvious that Ratchet was joking, was that wild grin on his face. I almost missed it for his bushy, graying beard, but it was there.
“Need anything while I’m gone?” Tripp asked me.
“Ice cream,” I stated without thought.
“Yeah, I’m not falling into that trap, what kind of ice cream are you craving?”
“Something with strawberries in it and maybe some actual strawberries, too.” I reached into my pocket to grab my wallet and give him some money, but Tripp looked offended as he hopped off his stool and backed away.
“Didn’t ask you to pay for shit, woman.” He glanced back at Prez who seemed to find our interaction hilarious. “Be back shortly.”
Fifteen minutes after Tripp left for the store, Prez came out of the office and headed straight for me. “What’s up, Ratchet?”
“Need you to head to the Pig for me. I have an updated list for Tripp. If he’s already gone by the time you get there, grab this shit from the store.” He handed me a wad of cash and another list.
“Did Minx not do a good job with her list?”
“Nah, she did fine, I think. Got a call. Another club’s coming in, stopping by overnight before heading out to Florida for some big charity ride.”
“Oh, okay.” I came around the bar and took off with the money and list, hoping I made it to the store before Tripp was done, so he could grab everything and add it to what he was already getting. I hated shopping there, especially after I quit with no notice. It felt like they were five seconds from kicking me out of the store every time I had to go.
When I got to the store, I parked as close as I could get to the front, which was about six cars deep down the middle aisle. A woman’s squeal of surprise caught my attention and made me look over to the cars parked on the opposite side of the row from me.
My stomach clenched so tight; I might have thought it was a contraction if the sight in front of me didn’t have heartache written all over it. Tripp had his hands wrapped around June’s hips while his body pressed her back into a fancy sports car. Her arms were wrapped around his neck while her fingers played in the still short hairs at the base of his head.
They were speaking to one another, that much was obvious before it got worse. June leaned up on her toes, bringing her puckered lips closer to Tripp’s. Instead of pushing her away, he met her in the middle and what started as a quick peck turned into a passionate affair with tongues and all.
I fidgeted with the leather cut I wore that claimed me as Tripp’s property. I watched him kiss another woman with such passion that it made the kiss he’d laid on me in claiming look like a fucking joke. The sad part of my Piggly Wiggly parking lot story was that I couldn’t even tell if I was the other woman or if she was. Had he been carrying on with her in secret the whole time? Could he be that fucking awful, and no one realized it? Maybe they did all know, and I was just the pregnant laughingstock of the club. The woman they pitied secretly while smiling to my face every fucking day.
I wanted to throw up. Instead, I threw my shoulders back, held my head high, and led with my belly as I walked over to where they were making out for anyone and everyone to see. She noticed me first. In fact, I know she noticed me before the kiss too, since she had looked right at me as she leaned up with her lips puckered before closing her eyes and trying to appear innocent.
When Tripp saw June’s attention pull away from him, he finally glanced back and noticed me too. It was only then that his hands slipped from her hips. She didn’t let go of him quite so easily and he had to take a step back and reach up to pull her hands off him at the same time.
“Kim,” he called out.
“Ratchet sent me with another list because company’s coming this weekend.” I shoved the money and list at his chest. He took it, but tried to hold my hand there, too. When I snatched away, the money dropped to the ground, and he had to stoop to pick it up before it blew away. That was when I turned around and started to walk back to my car. It certainly wasn’t the shiny red little Miata he had his bitch of a girlfriend shoved up against moments ago. I loved my Chevy Impala SS, especially since my brother had finally signed it over to me, and it had plenty of room for my baby.
“Kim, wait!” He called out to me, but I kept walking. The gasp of shock I heard once my back was to them made me smile. Yep, the bitch saw that my cut had “Property of Tripp” written on it.
“You made her your old lady?” She screeched.
I heard him say, “Yeah, I did,” before I shut my door and drove back to the clubhouse.
When I got back, Ratchet was sitting at the bar and smiled at me when I came in empty handed. “Take it you got there in time.”
“Sure did,” I told him as I peeled my cut off and walked around the bar to get back to my workstation. “I was there to catch the whole fucking show.”
Ratchet’s smile dropped as I placed my cut on the bar in front of him. The action must have made some of the other men in the clubhouse take notice because the noise level dropped, and eyes turned in my direction.
“Honey, I’m not sure what you saw, but this,” he tapped my cut, “doesn’t come off, especially when you’re here.”
