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Chapter Forty Four
Asher
After Blair showers and slips into some ripped black shorts, her boots, and a low-cut crop top with one of my painted leather jackets, we force her into the car. We swing by to pick up Faye, who looks worried but knows better than to ask what’s wrong. Especially with the closed down, cold expression Cyrus is rocking. She does ask Blair if she’s okay though, and Blair just sighs.
“I’ll explain everything, I promise.”
That is the end of that as we speed through the city.
It only takes us twenty minutes to cross the tracks and get to the clubhouse. We don’t have a lot to do with the prez, he’s a scary as fuck bastard, but I know he’ll take the girls in and Jay would die for them.
Pulling up to the compound, we idle as we wait for the huge, hulking gates to open. The concrete extends as a barrier around the massive area, which includes a bar for the clubhouse, two working garages, a storage warehouse, a salon, and a deli, which are open during the day with doors operated through the gate. The cameras are on and no doubt watching us, and if not, then the perimeter senses have alerted them. I can hear music, even though it’s only late afternoon, so they are probably all in the bar. Good.
The gate swings open and we pull through, driving to the right just in front of the deli and salon, which are attached in a one story building. Getting out, I grab Blair’s hand and smile reassuringly at her.
The brick buildings are nothing special. In fact, some are run down, but they are the best in the city if you can look past the lack of riches that so many upper class need. It’s all about service here and not impressing people. Their clients are usually some of the most powerful or dangerous in the area.
The deli and salon sit to the left of the lot near the wall. Opposite us, with the huge metal door open to showcase all of the many bikes, is the warehouse. It has huge lights positioned above and contains their spare parts and offices.
Attached to it are the two large garages. The doors are shut, so no one is probably at work at the moment, but if you have car and bike trouble, here’s your place. There isn’t anything they can’t fix, and, well, let’s just say the mods they do aren’t always legal.
“Damn, I should have brought my car and worked on it,” Blair jokes, noticing my gaze.
“Uh-uh, because then we would never get you out of here. They would bribe you to stay,” I tease.
“Why?” she asks.
“A girl who works on cars? To these men? Fucking gold dust,” Bray explains.
She just laughs, probably not believing us. Hell, keep her? They may fucking kidnap her. They value women above anything, and they’re protective and scary fucking bastards, but they are still criminals. A lot of these men are here because they don’t fit in anywhere else. Here, loners, psychos, and people just looking for a home find a place where they can be free, can be themselves. That makes them wild, though, and unpredictable.
To the very back, set away from it all, is the dive bar called Renegades. Before the open wooden doors are more bikes. Some have members on them, probably newbies. There’s more parking to the left with the BBQ, play area for kids, and grass—not to mention the torture hut behind it, but we’ve never been inside there, since that’s a club secret.
“Come on,” Cyrus says. “Let’s get you settled.”
“Shouldn’t you say something like, they won’t bite?” Faye offers nervously.
“That would be a lie, but they won’t bark at least.” He winks, making Blair laugh.
“I’ll protect you. I can beat up some big burly bikers if need be,” Blair says.
“Oh God, don’t get killed, or worse, hitched to some besotted biker because you kicked his ass,” Bray mutters, only slightly joking.
“You’re all weird,” Faye mumbles. “But I agree, no kicking anyone’s ass. I don’t want to have to patch them up.”
“Boring, all of you,” Blair comments, but I sense her nerves at being one step closer to letting us go out there.
I squeeze her hand and tug her after us, knowing the quicker we get this over with, the quicker we can get back to her.
Pushing through the door, I crinkle my nose at the smell of weed, cigars, old, spilled beer, and whisky. To the right is the bar with two club bunnies behind it, serving the bikers perched on the mismatched stools. The wooden floor is covered in scars, and the scattered tables aren’t much better. To the right are some pool tables with flat screen TVs on each wall, and a dart board with a club bunny laughing and hanging from a man’s bicep.
The bar is filled with members and family all bustling around. Club bunnies and old ladies are visible everywhere, the difference easy to tell. On a raised section are some long wooden tables, and that’s where I spot Jay talking to the prez. He simply nods at me and holds up his hand. The prez hasn’t seen us yet, too busy talking, but Jay excuses himself and hops down, grinning at us as he comes closer.
“Hey, Blair. Well, hello there. Who the fuck is this beauty?” His eyes widen when they land on Faye behind Blair, who’s looking around with her head tilted in interest.
“Don’t,” I warn him, but it’s too late, he hops around Blair and grins at Faye, his eyes going to her ass as he almost falls to his knees and pants.
“Christ on a dick, woman. Aren’t you a fucking stunner? You come to play with Jay?” he flirts.
