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He chuckles deep in his chest before slowly shaking his head.
“Like I said, ridiculously sassy.” He turns and walks off as the other men in the room follow after him like he’s a natural leader.
God, my heart is stupid. Bad decision on her part for sure.
“He’s right. That was sassy,” Davina adds with a big smile on her face. “Come on, chica. You can join my table,” she offers while grabbing my wrist.
“Your table?” I ask, baffled.
* * *
Turns out,Davina’s table has only three other club girls and all the other girls are at the other tables in the backyard, drinking, laughing, catching up. It’s like different clicks in high school and this is the popular kids table.
How cliche.
Davina is what they call a dime piece, whatever that means. Then, there’s Roxy, the same woman who was flirting with Xander earlier and she’s what’s called a den mother, a girl claimed by a patched biker. DeeDee is a house mouse who is called a fan favorite and she’s about my age. Lucy is the mother of a patched biker, but used to be a club girl until her husband retired. She helps set up for these meetings to keep herself busy.
“So, Laura, how has Gunner been treating you?” Lucy asks as Davina sets my drink in front of me before taking her chair beside me. I send Davina a smile before turning my attention to Lucy.
“Um…I’m not sure I understand the question.” Until now, I’ve been just listening to their gossip, and discussing things like politics and movies. Her question makes me curious. How do they think Xander has been treating me? The question is so strange. People usually only ask it when they think they already know the answer.
“Damn, babe. She’s asking if he’s been dicking you down on the daily or if you’re holding out on him. My hypothesis is that you were saving yourself for marriage until Browning cornered you and you’re just now coming to terms with you not giving it up to your imaginary husband on your wedding night,” DeeDee spits out, holding up her beer bottle.
I can’t tell if she’s serious or teasing me, but either way, I blush like a teen who’s first kiss was interrupted by overbearing parents—not that I have any experience with that.
“Oh, looks like she’s been getting it good. Pay up, DeeDee!” Roxy cheers and extends her hand to her friend.
“Fucking hell.”
“You ladies were betting about my son’s sex life?” Davina asks, baffled.
“If he ain’t fucking me, he’s fucking someone,” Roxy says like she thinks she’s God’s gift to men.
Gross. Has Xander had sex with her?
“Actually, we haven’t.” I wouldn’t feel right lying about it, especially since there’s a wager involved. I’d feel bad for DeeDee, even if the bet only involved small plastic bags of drugs.
“What?” Roxy, Lucy, and Davina gape at me in surprise. Davina doesn’t say anything on the subject. She just listens.
“I was right. Booyah! Virgin bride it is.” Roxy hands over the bag to DeeDee who shoves it in her pocket.
“No, I wasn’t a virgin or a bride. Why does everyone assume I was?” I ask defensively.
“Because you have that whole bible-thumping, girl-next-door vibe going for you.” Lucy presses a cigarette to her lips and extends the pack to me. “Want one? These things helped so much when I first got here, sweetheart.”
“If I were you,” Davina starts. “I’d listen to whatever Lucy or Roxy suggests. They’re the smart ones. They played the game well.”
“Game?” I gaze at her, baffled. What game is she talking about? I had no idea there was a game.
“Being a woman in this club,” Roxy says as she sets her beer bottle on the table. “Every move you make is a strategy. This isn’t a game of luck. You don’t want to end up like DeeDee, do you?”
“Hey!” DeeDee scowls at Roxy and kicks her foot.
“Like you actually want to have a train run on you weekly? You’re still a mouse, bitch.” Roxy sneers before turning her eyes back to me. “No one wants to live in the clubhouse for any of these assholes to leave her broken and bleeding on a whim. If you don’t play the game right, that’s where you end up.”
“At least I’m better off than Isis,” DeeDee quips.
Silence surrounds the table and I pick up on the gloom that’s surfaced, an intense grief that probably is avoided most of the time.
