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He looks at me for a minute then nods. “It’s cool,” he says. “So? We goin’?”
I nod. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
I give Molly one last look before I turn and head out of the kitchen. As I walk down the hall, I can hear Hammerhead speaking to her. He’s pitching his voice low and trying to keep me from hearing, but his voice carries in an empty clubhouse.
“Get this shit cleaned up while I’m out,” he hisses. “This place better be spotless by the time I get back. You understand me?”
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I’m goin’ out. It’s none of your fuckin’ business,” he snaps in a hushed tone. “Do what I tell you and clean this shit up. Get it done, goddammit.”
Hammerhead storms out of the kitchen and comes down the hallway. I hate the way he talks to her, and I’m so tempted to lay him out right there. But this is his house. It’s not my business, and all I can do is swallow it down as we head out.
CHAPTERTEN
Ilisten to their bikes rumble off and let out a sigh of relief when they fade into the distance. With them gone, I finish sweeping up the last of the broken dishes and throw them away. That done, I finish cleaning up the rest of the kitchen and putting everything back in order. I look at the shelving rack though and shake my head. There isn’t much left on it, and I know when Hammerhead goes to grab a dish, he’s going to blame me for it and start that argument all over again.
I know he was trying to be kind and trying to help me, but Hawk made things so much worse for me. Hammerhead isn’t going to lash out at Hawk. He’s going to take out all his frustrations on me. He’s going to use the embarrassment Hawk caused him as fuel for his outrage and the impotent rage he feels. I already know he’s going to slap me around the second Hawk’s out of sight. Hawk just doesn’t understand how things work here. Not really.
It was sweet that he tried to help me. I appreciate that he tried to stand up for me and get Hammerhead to treat me with a little respect. But it was entirely misguided. I wish I could make him understand. But that would entail another, longer conversation—which would create a whole host of new problems. Me talking to him would absolutely not go over very well with Hammerhead. He’d accuse me again of wanting to fuck Hawk—and I don’t know if I could hide the flush in my cheeks when I think about that kind man. But even worse than that, it would trigger Hammerhead’s insecurities. He’d feel embarrassed that he just got shown up in his own house and he’d take it out on me. Again. Like he always does.
I push those thoughts away and try to focus on something better. Something pleasant. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget that Hawk was so kind to me. That he stood up for me in a way not even Hogwild ever would. It only cements in my mind that he really is a good man. It was strange to see this big, tough biker going out of his way to be so tender. It’s something I’ve never seen or experienced before. My only exposure to bikers has been of the cold, cruel, slap-you-around-until-you’re-unconscious kind. The Howlers haven’t given me a particularly good impression of an MC. And it’s not just Hammerhead, either. All the guys treat me like shit because that’s what their leader does.
I’m even treated worse than the cut-sluts who hang around the clubhouse. At least the few who are left. They’re treated like little more than holes for the members to use when they need to get off. The women are degraded, mocked, made to fetch their beers, and used. But they come and go whenever they want. They party and drink with the guys. And they don’t get smacked around like I do. They’re not treated great, not by any stretch of the imagination. But they’re not treated as horribly as I am. And from what I’ve seen, they seem to like it. This lifestyle suits them.
More power to them, I guess. If this is how they want to live, it’s not my place to say otherwise. All I know is if I had the choice, if I could come and go as I pleased, I sure as hell wouldn’t be hanging out in this place. I’d put this place in my rearview mirror forever.
“You should tell Hawk to cut it out. He’s going to get you, and himself, killed,” the voice behind me says. “You know how Hammerhead feels about other guys talking to you.”
A sharp squeal busts from my mouth and I spin around to see Hogwild leaning against the doorway casually. He’s using the tip of a knife to clean underneath his fingernails then raises his eyes to meet mine.
“I know. But he started talking to me,” I reply.
“Yeah, but you talked back to him.”
“What was I supposed to do?”
Hogwild shrugs. “Ignore him,” he says simply. “Fella would’ve gotten the hint and walked away eventually.”
“So… I should just be rude?”
“If it keeps you from gettin’ beat on, I’d say that’s the smart thing to do.”
I grumble under my breath and shake my head. Hogwild frustrates me almost as much as Hammerhead does. I can never tell if he’s trying to help me or if he’s secretly keeping an eye on me from his Prez’s orders. He’s the only one who even halfway treats me with respect around here, but I still can’t bring myself to believe he actually cares. If he did, he would have done something about this a long time ago. Like what Hawk did.
It took Hawk barely a split second to make the decision to help me. Hogwild’s been around long enough and has seen enough to where I don’t know what he’s after. Sometimes he wants to help me or does nice things, other times he just cruelly disregards me as if he doesn’t give a single shit about what I’m going through. It frustrates me because I want to believe he’s better than the other guys, somewhere deep down in there, but he’s never lifted a finger to help me whenever Hammerhead starts screaming at me. I know it’s a different situation, because he’s loyal to his Prez, but this has been going on for so long now that I can’t bring myself to trust him any more than I trust Hogwild.
Not that I know whether I can trust Hawk, either. I believe he’s a good man, but what do I really know about him?
“Not sure how much longer Hawk is gonna be here,” Hogwild says. “But if I were you, I’d stay well away from him.”
There’s something in his voice—it’s just a hint—but it sounds almost like jealousy. The tone of his voice is tighter and harder than seems necessary. Add to that the way he’s looking at me and it seems pretty clear that Hogwild has other reasons for wanting me to stay away from Hawk. He’s got his own agenda and ulterior motives.
I don’t know how I missed this before. I don’t know how I was so blind. All this time I’ve been thinking he was just genuinely trying to be a gentleman. But I see now, the fact that he helps me, is kind to me, and brings me things like books and whatnot, is motivated by something else. It’s because he thinks that one day, I’ll choose him.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m reading too much into things or hearing things in his voice that aren’t really there. It’s possible that I’m just wrong. I mean, I’m not psychic. And my ability to pick up on social cues has been hampered by the fact that I’ve been stuck in this damn clubhouse for—I don’t even know how long anymore—and the only people I interact with are people who see me as less than a human being. That’s not exactly a recipe for healthy social interactions or being able to pick up on the nuances of conversation.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I sigh.
