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We were all Wrath through and through and they were going to follow me through this to the other side for better or worse. I just had to prove to them that we could keep the money flowing their way and then no one would give a shit about the past. It would be forgotten.
Tonight, when we returned. We'd celebrate. Tomorrow I'd throw a fucking party and let everyone blow off the rest of this steam.
"Alright, let's do this. We've got a plan and it's fucking solid. And we're fucking brothers to the end, am I right?"
"Fuck yeah!" they all shouted. "Wrath to the end!"
"No fuck ups tonight. Everyone watch their own back and your brother's back."
"Hell, yes."
As we left the clubhouse and mounted our bikes, some of the trepidation that had plagued me before began to evaporate. I trusted each and every one of these men to do their part. There was a time for disagreements and it was never in the middle of a mission. That's how lives got lost and they all knew it. We'd been there. At the mercy of a club president who couldn't control himself.
Together we were unbeatable, divided our chances sucked.
In the end, however, we were a family through and through. Rich and Fangs were going to come around. I might have to knock their heads around a bit to get them across the final threshold, but I didn't want to do this without them. Like me, they were OG.
When we rode past the The Devil’s Diamond I thought again about Sasha. It was dangerous for her to occupy so much of my time. But I was going to have to make an appearance at the Diamond sooner rather than later. Bruce was a solid manager, but that place was a huge source of our legit income and I wouldn't hand over the running of it to someone not patched in. The day to day sure. But it still needed oversight.
And I needed to get her out of my head once and for all.
CHAPTER SIX
Sasha
The last six days had gone by in a blur. Every night at The Diamond seemed to get busier and busier. Bruce seemed downright gleeful and even the other dancers seemed happy. The more people who came to the club the more everything seemed to rise.
For what was supposed to be the slow season it seemed pretty darn busy.
Of course, JD had been nowhere to be found since that first night and I had mixed feelings about that.
I'd already made a fool of myself then and I certainly didn't need a repeat. But that didn't seem to stop me from hoping. Every night I kind of held my breath waiting for him to show up and then took a sigh of relief, mixed with a hefty dose of regret when he didn't.
At least I had the generous tips to console me. And now two free meals a day. If this continued I might actually get myself out of debt before I turned gray. I stuffed my latest tips into the secret compartment of my bag and went to the restroom to freshen up.
Although before I made it halfway there I got waylaid by Bruce. "Sasha, dear. Would you mind helping out Heather for a bit in between sets? A bunch of new guests have arrived and it's a bit of a madhouse out there."
I took a peek from behind the door and sure enough there were twice as many tables now occupied than from when I was on the stage and I spied Heather looking frazzled and unhappy.
"Sure, just let me change."
"Don't bother," he replied, looking at the short robe I'd donned. "No one is going to care about your clothing." He hesitated. "Or lack thereof. Just keep those men out there drinking and happy. I need to make a phone call."
I didn't like the strange look on Bruce's face, but it was clear Heather needed help and I couldn't leave my new friend hanging. Of all the women in the club, she'd been the nicest to me so far. The least I could do after all the tips and advice she'd given me was a helping hand.
"No problem," I said, heading towards the bar to pick up a tray and an order pad. Unlike Heather, I did not have an eidetic memory and would need to write things down. To my surprise as I passed the tables, I noticed many of the new crowd wearing leather vests with patches on the back, but they weren't from the Sins of Wrath club.
That struck me as odd since Heather had filled me in on how motorcycle clubs worked and how they each had territories, etc., etc. But this was a job and that's all I was here to do. Anything related to the MC was none of my business.
Another tip from Heather. Keep your nose clean and out of anyone else's business around here and you'll do fine. That had sounded like great advice and I planned to heed it now.
For the next hour I went full out, taking drink and food orders, delivering said orders, all while dodging the men who chose to get handsy. I glared a lot and slapped a few hands away, but to my surprise no one intervened. It was weird considering they had security here for this kind of behavior.
"Hey, babe. Can I buy a lap dance?" One of the more belligerent of tonight's not so fun customers grabbed my wrist and pulled me close. I deftly twisted out of his grasp and placed myself out of arm's reach.
"Talk to the manager. Bruce. He sets those up. Although not with me. I'm new here. No lap dancing allowed."
"Awww." He pouted, even curling his lip like a child. "But I want you."
