Sabrina
“Hey, you okay?” I look away from Silas and turn toward the woman who’s now offering me a bottle of beer. She has a surprisingly kind smile. “It sounds like you could use one of these.”
I accept it with some hesitation but am not ready to take a sip. I’ve just been darted less than two hours ago, for Christ’s sake. My trust is at an all-time low at the moment.
“I’m Jenny, Cole’s old lady.”
Her red hair is up in a high ponytail, light brown eyes winking under the somewhat harsh bulbs of the clubhouse. Maybe it’s the conservative way she dresses compared to the other women around, or perhaps the offer of free beer has something to do with it, or it could be the genuine-looking smile spread across her lips. Either way, I find myself warming up to the strange woman. In a place like this, a new friend isn’t just a distraction, it’s also a possible way out.
“Thanks. Sabrina.” I nod, tipping the bottle forward until our beers clink together. “Which man is yours?”
As I struggle to twist off the beer cap, my eyes follow Jenny’s finger. She points across the room toward a tough-as-nails, huge ox of a silver-haired man sitting in the corner near the pool table. He’s idly puffing on a cigar, watching the pool table and current round of players. The silver fox turns and my eyebrows shoot up. His hair’s all gray, but his face is young. He’s got to be in his early thirties at most. Maybe late twenties. Must be a premature graying hair condition. His eyes move through the crowd and connects with ours as if he can hear his wife talking about him. Then he winks in our direction.
“He seems nice.”
“He’s VP around here. We’re newlyweds. Damn straight he’s nice. He’s everything to me.”
Sure, okay.
“Congrats,” I add, and we keep the conversation going for a while.
“See the tall one with the neck tattoo and the beard? That’s Axe. He’s Sergeant at Arms, and Silas’s best friend. You may have just missed Dean outside. He’s the top candidate for the vacant Road Captain position. Silas is still assessing him. Oh, and the guy at the end of the bar with his hand down the blonde’s top? That’s Tate. He’s Secretary and Treasurer. Just so you know, he’s a dick, so do yourself a favor and stay far away from that one.”
I smile, but not because of what Jenny just said about Tate. My escape plan will be a breeze with Mrs. Loose Lips filling me in on the group’s key people. I take a long swig of beer to look like I’m interested in this Tate fella.
“He’s a handful?” I take a second to focus on the well-built biker with a blue Mohawk. The man’s hands are going to town on the blonde’s cleavage, right there at the bar as if they’re in their own private lounge or something. The truth is, I don’t care one bit that the Tate guy is a caveman. I’m planning my escape routes. “Looks like a real winner.”
“He’s trouble…and an acquired taste. Unless you want to be screwed eight ways till Sunday and are into a lot of kinky shit. In which case, he’s your man. But if you want to pick a lock, find something online or crack a code, it’s another story. It’s why we keep him around. Plus, he’s honest with the books, and a half-decent maid.”
I laugh, pretending to enjoy the banter. “You know, I have to ask. Why are you telling me all this?”
Jenny looks at me from head to toe. “I just have a good feeling about you.”
Well. Good old Jenny has some seriously bad judgment for trusting me, but who am I to straighten the girl out? In a way, it’s a breath of fresh air, after all the tension with the club’s reigning president and his territorial, queen bee momma breathing down my neck.
“Thanks. I guess while I have you here, maybe you can clue me in so I know the rules of this place? I’d hate to break one by accident. I hear these clubhouses are like secret societies?”
Jenny levels me her with a curious expression, and then she bursts into a peal of giggles. “I like you, honey. Hopefully you stick around.” Jenny’s still laughing as she downs the rest of her beer and lets out a dainty burp. “Want another one?”
I glance down at my more than half-full bottle. “Okay.”
Jenny moves in close for a hug, so I roll with it. The woman holds on to me as if we’ve known each other all our lives. As we pull away, I fight to make sense of this weird kinship the woman’s trying to form with me. I don’t have many female friends.
“As for the club, try not to piss off Cindy Corrigan, and you’ll be okay. You seem like a smart chick. I’ll leave the rest up to you. Use your head. You’ll fit in fine around here.”
Her husband steps off his bar stool near the pool tables and strides over to a spot at the bar, signaling with his hand to get Jenny’s attention. “Hey wifey, bring that sweet ass of mine over here on my lap.” His roar echoes through the lodge, overpowering everyone else’s talking and laughter.
“Looks like I’m needed elsewhere. You know the drill. I’ll see you around.”
I don’t know the drill at all, but I’m a quick learner. Tossing back a third of the beer, I lower my sweaty bottle to my side, but a hand plucks it out of my palm.
“Hey, I wasn’t done with that—” I start, but my words are cut off by Silas and his unreadable stare. He doesn’t say a word as he rests the bottle it on the nearest table. “What do you want?”
“Follow me.” He nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and I follow him up, not minding the valid excuse to admire his tight, perfect ass.
“Admit it, big guy. You ran out of pet names, didn’t you?”
“Hardly, dollface.” He smirks over his shoulder and keeps walking down a wide hallway, opening one of the doors on the right. “This room has it’s own bathrooms, but it you need any supplies, there are a few more at the other end of the hall. Make yourself at home in this room for now. I’ll be out here waiting.”
