Page 82 of Life Or Death

Her red lips formed a pout. “Shame.” Then she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I barely got to see him last night.”

I wanted to tell her the reason she didn’t see him was because he was too busy fucking me, but I refused to stoop to her level. Turns out I didn’t have to rub any of that in her face, though.

“You hogged all his attention,” she said before she slid off the stool. Her sky-high heels clicked against the floor as she made her way toward me. When she came to a stop in front of me, her eyes trailed the length of me before they settled on my neck, where I knew a trail of Lucifer’s marks bruised his skin. “You shouldn’t get used to it. You’re just a shiny toy for him to play with. He’ll get bored of you, like he does all the other saddle bunnies, and come back to me.” She grinned, revealing a streak of lipstick on stained teeth. “He knows I’m a sure bet, and I know just how to please him. Why do you think he gives me free rein of that trailer behind the clubhouse?”

“I’m not a saddle bunny,” I ground out.

That stupid grin of hers widened, and she stepped closer to me, causing her cheap perfume to invade my senses.

“That’s cute. What are you going to tell me next? That you’re special and that he loves you? That you’re different? You’re cleaning the fucking bathrooms, pouring drinks, and spreading your legs just like the rest of us, sweetheart. Last night it was Lucifer, soon it will be Dread or maybe Nightmare.” She paused.

“That’s never going to happen,” I spat.

She laughed at me. “It’s cute you think that.” Then she turned and strutted toward the hallway. Something snapped inside me, and I charged forward. My hand wrapped around her arm, and she came to a stop.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She snatched her arm free, and I stumbled back a step. A cruel reminder that my balance was still shotty. She noticed and sneered at me.

“I left something in Dread’s room last night.” Then she stepped toward me once again. “Don’t you ever put your hands on me again.”

I didn’t know if I was supposed to stop her. No one had mentioned any rules about saddle bunnies wandering into club members’ rooms uninvited.

Homeboy appeared just then.

“Everything okay here?”

“Yeah, baby. I left something in Dread’s room last night. I was just going to get it.”

Homeboy nodded. “Be quick, Ginger.”

She walked over to him and ran her fingers up his bare chest. “You know I don’t do anything too quickly.”

Then she disappeared down the hallway. Homeboy followed her, and I went into the kitchen, not wanting to interact with her anymore. I waited for her to leave the clubhouse before I went back to the common room. I wasn’t sure where Homeboy had disappeared to, but I really didn’t care too much either.

Ginger’s words played on a consistent loop inside my head, and I felt the fresh sting of tears fill my eyes. My whole life I didn’t want to be like my mother, and in that moment, I realized that maybe I had failed. That all my fears had come true.

I wasn’t being passed around from man to man, but did that really matter? My situation wasn’t much different from Ginger’s. Yeah, I had Lucifer’s last name on my insurance card, but no one knew I was his wife. He didn’t claim me to his brothers or call me his ol’ lady.

He gave me a job and offered me his bed. Allowed me to pour drinks so I’d feel useful. But he gave Ginger a trailer and authority to walk through these doors as if she owned them.

He couldn’t even look me in the eye after he’d been inside me. Maybe he regrets it. Maybe he realized we crossed too many lines—that fucking his wife was one thing, but claiming her, marking her, telling her she’s his—that’s something else entirely. Something real. Something that can’t be undone with a forged marriage certificate and a convenient lie.

Or maybe I’m just another body to him.

My stomach turns at the thought, and I press my palm against it, willing the nausea to pass. But it doesn’t. It’s been three days since I called Tori and had her pick me up from the clubhouse, and I’m no better than I was when I left. I’m heartbroken, and so fucking mad at myself. I let my fucking guard down. I ignored my intuition, and now I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do.

Tori appears in the doorway of the living room, a plate in her hand. She crosses the room and sets it on the coffee table in front of me.

“I made you a sandwich,” she said.

I glance up at her. “Thanks.”

Sighing, she takes a seat next to me and tucks one leg beneath her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. I love Tori, but I don’t think I can stand hearing her tell me she told me so.