Page 66 of Playboy’s Purgatory

It’s hard to understand what Lola is babbling about at first, her sobbing drowning out everything else. She calms down just enough to get out, “Lara slapped me in the bathroom.”

Even though no one around the table is fond of Lola, everyone stiffens. I don’t and just continue to glare down at her.

I understand why my brothers are on edge. Even if she’s not beloved, Lola is still part of the club. For now.

It matters.

We protect our own. It’s something we pride ourselves on.

When I can’t brush Lola off, I hold my arms out to ensure I’m nowhere close to touching her. The thought of it makes me fucking ill.

Lara comes sauntering over with her face crafted into a carefully neutral mask. Her steps are measured, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s obvious that she’s not worried about whatever the crying woman in my arms is wailing about.

My Cupcake looks me over, her eyes taking in my raised arms and how I’m not touching Lola and she’s the one, clearly, clinging to me. Lara’s eyebrow arches and I shoot her a look full of pleading.

“Lola,” my woman’s voice is sickly sweet in a way that should not be a turn on but totally is, “are you done putting on your little play or should we expect another act?”

“You’re the one performing,” Lola screeches. Her hand cradles her cheek, and she lets go of me just enough for me to shrug out of her hold. Fucking barely. Her eyes turn toward me and she hisses, “What the hell, Playboy?”

“I’ve told you multiple times not to talk to me, not to touch me, and not to pretend like there is anything between us. You don’t seem to get it, but you’re already on thin ice in the club. Keep going and you’ll find yourself without anywhere to go in Dogwood Ridge,” I grind the words out.

It’s not a threat; I’ll make it happen. No matter what.

Lola just rolls her eyes like I’m being silly and difficult. When she looks at the rest of the brothers, who aren’t entirely sure what to do, triumph flashes through her eyes. Trying to appear like an innocent victim, she looks down coyly. She’s just not quick enough to hide what I’ve already seen.

“Stop pretending,” Lola feigns vulnerability while a few more tears streak down her cheeks to try to make her alleged pain into something with impact. “I know you said you wanted to keep it quiet, publicly, but I can’t take it anymore. I’m not going to be your little secret that you only hold and love in private.”

My mouth falls open and I’m not even sure what to do with my reaction. Do I throw up? Do I rage? Do I slump down and just let Lara whip me? I’m at a complete fucking loss.

“Ah,” Lara drawls, “another act it is.”

Ryker’s voice is low and filled with curiosity, not anger, “Lara, did you slap Lola?”

Lara juts up her chin, every inch of her screaming out her defiance and her fearlessness. “Yes,” she answers simply and clearly.

She also doesn’t offer an explanation. Not that she needs one as far as I’m concerned.

Lola immediately jumps in, her tone victorious, “See? She even admitted it.”

Ryker doesn’t look at Lola. “Did she deserve it?”

Before Lara can answer, the rest of the ladies walk up and fan out behind my woman. It’s obvious who they support. It sure as fuck isn’t Lola.

Riti’s eyes find mine and the anger I see there has me almost taking a step back. She’s not the kind of woman to get pissed off easily because it’s just not in her nature. She takes things as they come and she doesn’t let things get under her skin, even when they probably should.

My blood runs fucking frigid and my stomach sinks. Whatever was said, whatever was implied, I was put at the center of it. It’s not surprising, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t land.

“She definitely deserved it,” Riti’s the one who bites out the words.

Lara nods once, the move is decisive.

“Good,” Ryker and I say it at the same time and share a look and a knowing smirk.

Lola practically goes incandescent with anger, but she tries to keep it inside by pressing her lips together in a tight line. I’m not sure what kind of reaction she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this one. She’s looking at me like I betrayed her. If she thinks I did, it’s only because she’s fucking delusional.

The cracks in her act are becoming glaringly obvious.

I didn’t betray Lola. The entire notion of it is fucking laughable.