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“It’s not that bad,” I say, pushing us forward and hooking a right under the carport. Wicked parks beside my car and Betty laughs.
“Did you both plan this? The white Harley and the white Merc?”
I don’t even bother answering her. Somehow, I have to plan a wedding in two weeks, and among it all, it’s a wedding I don’t even want. I’ve seen Papa once since Mama passed away, and he still won’t tell me who killed her. He says that the cops don’t know, but I don’t buy it. Everyone knows that the Cosa Nostra doesn’t deal with the cops. They’ll know who it was, and no doubt Papa will be planning her revenge. I’ve dropped it for now, but after the wedding, I will be demanding answers. Answers I fucking deserve.
My door opens and I jump, spinning around to face Wicked. “Jesus, can you not?”
“Rules.”
My shoulders straighten and my jaw tightens.
“Number one?” His brows raise slightly. “You don’t talk to anyone except Khaos or Royce.”
My mouth opens to answer back, but he curls his finger beneath my chin and flicks it closed. “Two? In here, you’re my property, so you do as I say.”
“Now I know you’re fucki—” His fingers wrap around my cheeks, squeezing my lips closed.
I glare at him.
“Three?” His eyes sparkle when he sees the anger swirl inside me. Asshole. “When the old ladies are around, you can talk with them.”
I shove my face out of his grip. “How do I know which is which?”
“Oh, you’ll know,” Betty mutters. “The old ladies will be dressed normally, and the club sluts dressed as hookers.”
Wicked’s face scrunches up. “The fuck kind of shit have you been watching? Nah, that’s not how it is here. The old ladies wear what the fuck they want and they are protected while doing it, and here—” Wicked brings his eyes to Betty. “They ain’t called club sluts. They’re handlebars.”
Betty matches his look. “How is that any better?”
Wicked moves to the back of the car, opening Wolf’s door and pulling him out. He stares at me from the back once Betty is out of the car. “I mean it, Ruby. Don’t fucking test me.” I hold his stare, pouring gas onto the flame that burns between us. His eyes turn heavy. “Or do and see what the fuck I do.” He steps back and slams the door closed.
Sliding out of the SUV, I pop open the trunk and take out mine and Wolf’s bag, but Wicked takes it from me instead.He stops when he notices that I’m not following him, turning over his shoulder. I blink between him holding Wolf and the clubhouse in the background. The parked bikes on the side and the UFC ring behind the bikes.
“You’ll be fine, Rubs.”
I smile up at him, my Converse crunching over the loose gravel.
We haven’t made our way into the clubhouse when people are cheering, patting Wicked on the back, and touching Wolf on the cheeks. Khaos swaggers over to us, holding a little leather vest with the Wolf Pack MC patch on the back, flashing me a dazzling smile. “Mommy… will you allow it?”
“First of all!” I shake my head. “Don’t ever call me mommy like that again—” Because it was kind of hot. “Second of all…” Everyone silences. The cheers and happiness. Wicked stands, searching my eyes. He and I don’t agree on a lot of things, but something I have always felt with him is that he respects me.
Sometimes.
Just not when I don’t want him to.
“Of course.” I pat Wolf’s head before sidestepping away from them and pulling a stool up beside Betty, who is already talking to Poppy, making drinks behind the bar.
Dropping my handbag onto the table, I exhale and lower to the chair. “Please don’t tell me you’re living here?”
Poppy laughs, sliding over a glass filled with tequila. “I actually love it here. They’ve turned into my family, and anyway, I’m working the field now with Anon.” She rounds the end and sits beside me. “Which is fine because I have years to catch up with as far as Wicked and Wolf go.”
I take a small sip. “I feel you.” Sighing, I sit back on the stool. “I know what you mean about this place, though. It’s not exactly”—my eyes fly around the room—“unpleasant, which makes no sense.”
“Ehhh… you’re both on crack. I could never.” Betty swirls her drink with a toothpick before spinning around to face the crowd. “Or maybe—” Her head tilts. “Why are most of them good looking?”
Poppy and I burst out laughing. It’s the first time I’ve got to sit down with Poppy and really see how she has been. I told her about Wolf’s birth, how I hemorrhaged and lost so much blood that they almost needed to put me under. I feel a little guilty that I haven’t had the conversation with Wicked yet, but I figure we will have time.
It’s an hour later and I have pulled out my phone, looking through photos.
