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The next thing I noticed was that she had a killer voice. It was all sex and smoke, a little breathy, a little husky. And wasn't it just perfect that a voice like that was spitting fire?
"No, you listen, bitch, I'm here to talk to the president, not some probate on a power trip so get your head out of your ass and..." her gaze snapped to mine, her mouth closing, her brows drawing together slightly as she did a somewhat slow inspection of me.
I decided right then and there that, once she finished whatever business she might have had with Reign, she and I were going to get acquainted. By 'acquainted' I didn't mean over drinks and bullshit; I meant I was going to get to know what her ass looked like bent over one of my cars while I pulled her hair and fucked her from behind.
Of course, that all got shot to shit once the girls came out and started raising hell, browbeating the formidable leader of a arms-dealing biker gang. See, it wasn't often people ever even thought to do something like try to go toe-to-toe with Reign. One of my earliest memories of him as a probate was him tearing into the shed where one of the bikers, a slimy fucker by the name of Mo, was being held.
Probates weren't exactly allowed to be involved with official club business, but, well, I was on patrol of the perimeter and I had ears. Hell, you could have been almost fully deaf and you would have heard Mo's screams. Reign came out the better part of an hour later, his body literally dripping with blood.
We, as a group, would learn later that Mo, along with being a lousy drunk, a shameless gambler, and a giant pussy, was also the worst thing a brother could be: he was a snitch. And, see, snitches didn't get stitches as the saying went. Snitches got a timely grave.
So Mo was pushing up daisies and I learned real early that Reign was not a man to fuck with.
The girls club, fuck, I don't know what they were thinking. Maybe it was as simple as knowing Reign, for all his ruthlessness, would never raise a hand to a woman. Or maybe it was just because the women were all certified badasses themselves and were no way intimidated by him like most normal people would be.
But regardless of what balls it took the ball-less lot, they were on a tear. See, all being badasses in their own rights, they really had very little (if any) tolerance of things such as sexism. I didn't blame them per say. I understood that shit. Anyone who had ever seen Janie build a bomb or Lo grapple or Summer hold a gun, yeah, they'd know that this particular group of women couldn't be held to any gender norm stereotypes, not even in the criminal underbelly. So when they thought Reign was being unfair to a woman who might very well be a badass herself, they weren't having any of it.
I had to hand it to them, they got what they wanted.
Though I knew from experience it was less about Lo and Janie's ranting and raving and more about Summer going all soft on him and exploiting the one real weakness Reign had in the world: her, and the feelings he had for her.
Regardless, it worked.
Or so we all thought until Reign led me inside the compound.
"This shit isn't gonna fly," he told me, waving a hand out toward the gates.
"You just told them it would," I said, shrugging.
"Oh, I told them she would have a shot. I didn't say it was going to fly."
I knew Reign well enough to know that he wasn't just pulling me inside to casually bullshit and bitch and whine to me. "What do you need?"
"I need you in charge of Maze."
"In charge of Maze?" I repeated, thinking of all the ways that could be a very, very good assignment.
As if sensing my train of thought, Reign's lips twitched. "Keep your dick in your pants," he said, shaking his head. "I don't care if she has that hot, alternative, 'I don't give a fuck' vibe going on, from now on, she's a probate. And you don't get to fuck her."
I let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh and nodded. "So what do I get to do with her then?"
"You get to make her life a living hell until she quits or fucks up badly enough to get thrown out."
I paused, choosing not to speak until I resisted the urge to tell him that was kind-of fucked up. Because, fact of the matter was, I didn't get to have opinions like that. Sure, Cash and Wolf and sometimes even older members like Vin would question Reign, push the limits of his patience with their insubordination. But that was a luxury I was not afforded. Not because Reign wouldn't allow it. If anything, I was on Reign's good side. But I learned a hard lesson in loyalty before I happened across The Henchmen and decided they were going to be my life. And that lesson, well, it made me absolutely fucking incapable of behaving even the slightest bit like I didn't fully respect authority.
