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She flinches. “I never said I hated Razor.”
“It seemed implied.” In our short time together, she’s blasphemed the Reign of Terror MC to the point I’ve been ready for her to sacrifice an animal to complete the curse.
“You don’t understand me or the Terror. Nobody understands. All this town is good for is gossip and lies.”
I agree. I don’t understand how a guy everyone is terrified of makes me feel safe. I don’t understand how a guy who stayed behind to protect me when he didn’t know me has been shot. I don’t understand how a guy who carried me out of an alley full of shattered glass is the enemy everyone is warning me about.
Violet’s mouth trembles as if whatever she’s holding in is causing her pain. “My father is dead because of the Terror. My reputation has been ruined since kindergarten. My mother is a mess, my brother has issues...my life has been damaged by the club, so excuse the shit out of me if I’m not their biggest fan.”
“Then why are you taking me here?” I ask.
“Because...” She struggles to breathe. “It’s Razor and he asked for you.”
When she exhales, it’s like she’s flipped an emotional switch from on to off. Not sure which one I prefer—the girl who felt everything or the girl who appears stone cold. “I don’t know why he asked for you, and I sure as hell don’t understand why you agreed to come with me, but some advice?”
I nod.
“Break this off with Razor, because there’s nowhere for it to go. I know who you are. Everyone at school has your number. You’re the supersmart girl who’s going to leave Snowflake for good, and I can also tell you aren’t clubhouse girl material.”
My knee bends as I shift my weight and I feel oddly overdressed in my sweater and skirt. Something about the way Violet said clubhouse girl brought up the image of less clothes and more confidence.
“Maybe Razor doesn’t want a clubhouse girl.” Whatever that means.
She laughs. Throws her head back and laughs. “As I said, you don’t understand. He won’t walk away from the club for you.”
“I’d never ask him to.”
Her eyes narrow on me as if she could choke me with her glare. “I sneaked into a party once, know what I saw? My dad doing body shots with a woman who wasn’t my mother—his wife. Women swinging their bare tits as they danced on the bar. You aren’t the kind of girl who’s going to let a strange guy do body shots off you and you sure as hell aren’t the girl who’s going to strip for shits and giggles in front of a crowd. Are you telling me you’re going to be fine being with a guy that calls that a typical Friday night?”
A lump hardens in my throat and I stagger back. No, I wouldn’t. In fact, the idea repulses me. Razor’s words haunt me... I had sex for the first time the night I patched in...
“And let’s say you can get over all that,” she continues. “I seriously doubt you’ll be okay being harassed by everyone in town and by the police. You’re going to resent every whispered rumor and judgment, which means you are going to resent everyone in the world. And then there are those dark, silent and lonely nights you wait by the phone to hear if the people you love have been shot or killed. The MC path for a woman isn’t a life—it’s a death sentence.”
I look behind me, over my shoulder, back to the way we came. This is what I’ve heard my entire life...what I’ve been told over and over again. And this girl—Violet—she was raised with them, she knows what no one else knows, has seen what no one else has seen, and she’s telling me to run.
There’s a crackling of leaves and my head snaps back in Violet’s direction. A woman with dark hair appears. She’s older than me but younger than my mother and she eyes m
e and Violet warily. “What’s going on, Violet?”
“This is Rebecca,” Violet says to me as she studies the new woman. “I texted her for help. This is Breanna.”
Rebecca inclines her head as if she understands why my name should mean something. “How did you know?”
It’s a question to Violet and Violet’s response is a shrug. “I’ll wait here for her. Breanna mentioned she has to be home by four thirty, so the two of you might want to get moving.”
“Club’s on lockdown. Neither of you would be permitted near the property.”
“Then I suggest you don’t get caught.” Violet crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ll take her home now if you want, and that will prove what I’ve always known—that the women involved in this club are puppets.”
Rebecca straightens and lifts her chin. “Your father raised you better than to disrespect your family.”
Violet and Rebecca enter a staring contest that feels more like a duel with pistols. Violet severs eye contact first. “Either take her or don’t. I did this for him, not for any of you.”
Rebecca cups a hand to the back of her neck and surveys me. “You aren’t what I thought he would have picked, and in case you’re wondering, that’s a good thing...for him maybe, but not for you. Let’s go. You need to be quiet and do exactly what I say as I say it, do you understand?”
I take another step back as a cold sensation floods my limbs. “Maybe I should go home.”
“I agree,” says Rebecca, “you should, but you won’t. Your name was the first off his lips when I was convinced he was going to die. Women don’t walk away from that type of commitment easily. I’ll guarantee your safety if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m married to a board member, so I wield some influence. We need to get moving as we’re both wasting time.”
