by Colbie Kay
Chatty was spot on because Zoey comes back with a tray full of shots and has a game ready. Her eyes glint with trouble.
I don't know how much time has passed. I lost track a while ago of the number of shots I had to take, and my vision is starting to blur. I think I lost the game…maybe? I don’t know because we all seem pretty wasted. We are all giggling at nothing.
I search the room trying to locate Lucas when I spot numerous people having sex. “Oh my God! Are they having sex? Right here in front of everybody?” More giggles burst from me.
Zoey rolls her eyes. “Ugh, yeah, these slut puppies have no shame.”
“You’ll get used to it, honey, when you’ve been around here long enough,” Chatty mumbles.
Jacey jumps in, “Them bitches are disgusting. I swear, let one of them lay one of their dirty fingers on my man, and I’ll cut a bitch.”
I almost spit out the sip I just took.
Daphne busts out laughing. “Jacey is the most violent of us all, but they know better than to touch our men. Will Tink be off-limits soon?”
My eyes widen. “We’re only friends.”
“Mmhm,” Ever hums, beaming. “You’re never just friends with one of the Sinner men.” She has a distinct slur to her speech, but not bad enough that I can’t understand what she’s saying.
Zoey jumps from the table and throws her arms in the air as she wiggles her hips, offbeat from the music. "Let's dance!"
“Yes!” Jacey hops up also.
Chatty snickers, “Now is about the time they get on top of the tables and dance until their men cart them away.”
I like this group of women, and I could see us being friends. “I’m going to see if I can find Tink.” I use his nickname because I’m not sure anyone here knows his real name. I haven't seen him for a while, and even though I was having a good time with the ladies, he left me here to fend for myself. I believe I have enough liquid courage in me to tell him exactly how much of a royal douche he's been, and I want to know why.
As I find my way down the hall, I begin trying the knobs on each closed door. Left and right, left and right, each door is locked. I’m almost to the end of the hallway when finally, I turn the knob, and the door opens into a bathroom. Stepping inside, my eyes lock with the long black hair. Lucas is leaning against the wall; his eyes open lazily. He stares at me. My eyes drop to the dark-haired woman on her knees bobbing her head, but she’s not touching him. I can't be sure, but I think that's the same woman who said hi to him earlier.
“Seriously?” Tears pool in my eyes as they meet his cold stare. Something flashes in his gaze, but I can’t make it out. “How could you?” I shake my head before the first tear falls.
“Jorga!” I hear him yell after me, but I storm away. I quickly stride through the crowd until I find Chatty. Tears are streaming down my cheeks.
The smile on Chatty’s face vanishes. "Jorga, what's wrong?"
I wipe the tears from my cheeks only to have more replace them. "I wanna go home."
Her brows furrow. "Where's Tink?"
"Getting a blow job from Kat in the bathroom." I cover my face with my hands, sobbing.
"Shit! Okay, follow me." She leads me to her husband, Gunner. "Babe, can you get a prospect to take her home?”
“She needs to go home?" He questions. His eyes drifting between me and Chatty. "Where's Tink?"
She shakes her head. "He's making bad fucking decisions right now."
I interject, "He's in the bathroom getting a blow job. Let's be real here. He told y’all I can't be touched so he had to go to someone else."
"Jorga," Lucas growls my name in warning.
I spin around to face him, tears still flowing and all. "What?" I scream at him.
He stares at me with regret–I think. "I'll take you home, and we'll talk."
"I'm not fucking talking to you, and you certainly aren't taking me home," I hiss.
He growls back, "Yes, I am."
"No, you aren't."
Gunner returns with the prospect. "Jorga, this is Pope. He's gonna take you home."
"The fuck he is," Lucas roars.
I turn away from Lucas. "Let's go!" I spit at Pope.
"Jorga!" Lucas shouts, but I’m rushing through the crowd. I need to get outside. I need fresh air. “Jorga!” He follows, hollering my name.
Ignoring him, I continue storming through the clubhouse until I'm outside. I suck in a deep breath of cool air.
Pope leads the way.
"Thanks for taking me home,” I mumble
"No problem." He straddles his bike.
Lucas stands in front of me, preventing me from getting on the bike. "I swear to fuckin' Christ, Jorga, if you get on that bike—"
My eyes dart up to lock with his. "You’ll what? What are you gonna do? Don't you think you've done enough? Go back to Kat!"
His grits his teeth and clenches his fists. "It's not what it seemed like."
I laugh hysterically. "Not what it seemed like? It seems like you distanced yourself from me, started acting like a douche to me, and then you bring me here so I can find that whore with her mouth full of your penis!"
I push him away from me and straddle Pope’s bike. “Pope, don’t you fuckin’ leave with her,” Lucas threatens.
“Sorry, Tink, but I have orders to take her home from your vice president.” Pope starts his Harley and gravel flies as he rides out of the parking lot.
He follows the directions I give and soon pulls up into the driveway. “Thanks again for bringing me home.”
“Not a problem. Gunner asked for me to stay until Dancer gets home. I’ll just stay out here.”
“Okay.” I trek up to the porch and use my key to unlock the front door. When I close it behind me, I fall to the ground, and a new set of tears cascade down. What happened? I thought everything was going good with me and Lucas. Tonight, proved to me that I can’t trust anyone. Even Lucas. I need to stop this infatuation I have with bad boys. All they’ve ever done my entire life has hurt me. I wasn’t even with Lucas, and the way I’m feeling right now hurts worse than any words Nathan ever said to me or any punch Rex delivered.
"Jorga?" Lucas's voice barrels through the door. Scurrying to my feet, I face the locked door.
I snarl back in anger. "Leave me alone!"
His fist pounds against the door. "Let me in so I can explain."
"There's nothing to explain. Pope is here so you're free of your duties."
"I sent him back to the clubhouse. Open the door, Jorga."
"No. You wanna stay, fine, but you're staying out there. I can’t even look at your face."
I fall on the couch and cross my arms. I sit and stew over the situation and the fact he’s sitting outside until Dancer comes in from the garage.
She bounces onto the loveseat and takes her shoes off. "Hey, Jorga." Her eyes land on me, meeting my gaze. "Uh oh, what happened? I noticed Tink on the front porch when I pulled up. Did y'all have a fight?"
"Nope, we didn't fight." I purse my lips and shake my head. "He took me to the patch party and was mean to me, Dancer. The things he said, the coldness I felt coming from him…it was weird. I thought we were doing well and in a good place…I don't know what changed. Anyway, I had some shots with some of the Ol' ladies, and when I went to go find him, he was with one of those slutty whores." My lips curl in disgust and a shiver runs down my spine thinking about him with her.
Her head tilts to the side a little. "What do you mean with?"
I release a deep breath. "I mean she had a mouth full of dick. Lucas's dick."
"Why the hell would he do that?" Dancer darts up from the loveseat. "I'm going out there and telling him to get the fuck off our porch!"
I stand too, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I don't care. I'm going to bed."
Her bottom lip pokes out in a pout. "I would hug you right now, but I know how you are. I'm sorry, Jorga."
"Me too." Another round of tears begins to fall as my feet lead me to my bedroom.
As I'm sitting on the top step of their porch with my elbows resting on my knees and my head in my hands, the front door opens. I whip around with the hope it's Jorga. Maybe she's going to allow me to explain. But it's not her, it's Dancer, and her glaring eyes are narrowed on me.
Her hands rest on her hips. "Why, Tink? Why would you do that to her?"
I run my hands down my face. "Fuck, Dancer, I thought maybe if I could make her hate me it would be better for her."
"Well, you were successful in that. You need to leave and not come back."
Unshed tears sting my eyes. "I'm not leaving." I feel sick to my stomach for what I did. As soon as I saw Jorga’s face, the hurt filling her eyes, I knew I fucked up. I regretted it immediately and told Kat to get the hell off me.
Dancer begins pacing the porch. "Why? Didn't you do enough damage? Why do you want to torture her even more by staying out here? She doesn't even need you here anymore. She'll be put on my schedule."
I stand and step toward Dancer. "I didn't know it would make her cry. I never wanted to be the reason for her tears. I just thought...I don't know what I thought. I need to talk to Jorga. I'll sit at the Stilettos day in and day out or camp my ass in your front yard if I have to, but I'm not fuckin' going no goddamn where until she talks to me."
She stops pacing and glares at me again. "Then you better consider the grass your new home because she's not talking to you anytime soon. She's fucking hurt, Tink. I don't know why the hell you men are so fucking stupid when it comes to women." Stepping back inside the house, she slams the door.
“They thought I was fuckin’ around when I said I was going to camp out here, well let’s see how they like this shit,” I grumble as I shove the poles into the front yard of their house while I’m trying to figure out how the fuck to put up this tent I went and bought. I’ve survived in an RV camper trailer most of my life, I can survive a tent. One way or another, Jorga Lynn Lankford is going to talk to me. I can guarantee I’m more stubborn than she is.
Dancer’s Hummer and Jorga’s bug pull out of the driveway as they head for work. I run to my Harley and quickly get her started to follow them to the club.
Once inside, I ignore their hateful stares as I stomp to Hacker and Sierra’s office. Without knocking, I open the door. “I need a pen and paper,” I demand from Hacker.
“Hey to you too, brother. Knock next time, got it?” He rummages around his desk until he finds what I asked for.
I take the paper and pen from him. “Yeah, I got it.”
“You having woman trouble?” He snickers.
Growling low in my throat, I grumble, “Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Fine, but the only person that made me act like that is Sierra. Heard what happened at the patch party. Sorry, we couldn’t make it but congrats, brother. You’re now official.”
“Thanks. I fucked up.”
“Damn straight you did. But the question is, how are you gonna fix it?”
I wave the paper and pen in the air. “I have an idea.”
“Good luck, brother. She seems like a good girl.”
“Too fuckin’ good.” I shut the door to his office and find my quiet table in the corner before the club opens.
With the paper in front of me and pen in hand, I think about the words I need to write in my letter to Jorga.
Dear Jorga,
The first time I saw you walking into school on the first day of your freshman year, you looked like an angel. I swear there was a fucking glowing brightness around you. You were staring down at your class schedule with half your hair pulled up in that big white bow. You had on that white summer dress and white ballet flats. You were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen in my life. You took my breath away and didn't even know it. I took one step, ready to take a chance and talk to you, but Nate beat me to it. He was my best friend, so I kept quiet and let him have you, but he never loved you like you deserved to be loved. I realized if I would have simply taken that chance, I could have loved you better than he ever did, and I hated him for the way he treated you even if he was my best friend. That is, if you would have even given me the time of day. I was jealous, Jorga, fucking jealous of him for having you.
I remember the song that was playing the first time you hopped into my truck. I remember the first movie we watched at your house. Your mom made us popcorn that night. I remember the first time Nate made you cry, and the first time we went to one of those stupid games on Friday night and the party on Saturday. And I remember how every tear you shed, I wished I could have been there to dry them for you. There were many nights I laid down to sleep and wished things were different. I wished I would have fought for you then instead of letting you fall for Nate.
But I’m fighting now, and I won’t ever stop. I fucked up, and I'm so fucking sorry. I know those words don't mean much because of what I did, but I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. I will live in that tent in your front yard for as long as I have to. I’m going to fight like hell to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me. I can’t lose you, Jorga.
I need to tell you the reason I pushed you away. What I feel for you is so fucking strong, and it scared the shit out of me. The life I live with the club isn't a good life, Jorga. Bad shit happens. Bad shit happened to me, and I didn't want to bring you into that world. I was mean and wanted you to hate me so I could push you away. I wanted you to catch me with her because I thought it would make you hate me, that I would stop feeling what I felt for you. I never thought it would make you cry, I never wanted to be the reason for your tears. I never thought you felt anything for me other than friendship, but when I saw you in that bathroom, saw the tears in your beautiful amber eyes, I realized I fucked up needed to make it right with you.
I realized you do feel something for me, and I should have never done what I did. I will apologize for the rest of my life and tell you a million times that she didn't mean anything to me. I will do whatever you need me to do, but I'm never letting you go. I want to face my fears, but I only want it to be with you.
I love you, Jorga
Lucas
As the club fills up with customers, I lay the pen down on top of the paper and begin watching Jorga closely. I fuckin' hate that she works here, and I hate all these fuckin' men’s eyes on her. She doesn't realize that most of them watch her as much as they do the entertainment on stage. Her and Dancer thought it'd be cute to make her a midriff top which says off limits across her tits and a pair of shorts that barely cover her ass which has don't touch in big, bold letters. It’s not cute the way her long silky legs sway as she passes by, and it’s not fuckin’ cute that her smooth flat stomach or the dimples in her lower back are on display. It’s not cute that every man in this building is hard from the sight of her, even me. And oh, they wanna goddamn touch her. I continue sitting there brooding with my arms crossed over my chest while she works. I try to keep my hard-on at bay, but she makes it damn near impossible.
A few hours into her shift, she's passing by a man in a business suit. "Hey, honey," He yells, and his hand reaches out, grabbing her ass cheek. Her body stiffens, and before she can even turn around, I jump out of my seat and have him by the throat. I apply enough pressure with my hand that he stands from his chair. I walk him backward until we reach the bar counter. He bends backward, his face showing his fear, as I draw my gun to put it between his eyes.
"Tink!" Dancer yells, but I don't fuckin' care.
"Tink!" Jorga screams my nickname, which she hardly ever uses.
I stare into the eyes of the prick. "You touch her again, I'll put a goddamn bullet between your motherfuckin' eyes."
"I'm sorry." The man tries putting his hands up in defense. "I was just having fun."
I seethe between my clenched teeth, "Fun?" I press my gun further into his forehead. "Are you having fun now?"
Someone pulls me off the asshole. Spinning around, I'm staring into the angry eyes of Hacker. "Tink, go take a breather. Pull yourself toge
ther, brother."
Putting my gun away, I storm outside.
"Why would you do that?" Jorga's voice follows.
I turn to face her. "Because he had no right to touch you!"
She throws her arms in the air. "I had it handled. What the hell is wrong with you? I don't understand you, Lucas."
I stomp toward her. "I fucking love you that's what's wrong with me."
Her eyes widen. "You love me?" She shakes her head in what appears to be disbelief. "You don't love me, if you did, you would have never treated me the way you did."
"That's just it, Jorga, I was trying to save you from me. Loving you scares the shit out of me, and this," I grab my cut, "is a bad world to live in. You're good, Jorga, so fuckin’ good. I didn't want you to be a part of this life. I tried to make you hate me, but Jesus Christ seeing you cry because of me…." I grab my hair and pace for a moment. "It damn near killed me. I'm sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry."
She shrugs as if it’s simple. "You wanted me to hate you, and you succeeded. I thought I loved you too, but I don’t know if I can forgive you for what you did."
I stared into her eyes. Regret etched in my features and tears threatening to come. I lost her. "She didn't mean anything to me."
"I obviously don't mean anything either. And it wasn’t just her, Lucas, it was everything the way you talked to me, the way you just left me there to fend for myself, and how you told them things about me.” She wraps her arms around herself. “Just go. We were stupid to even think we had feelings for each other." Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and she sniffles.
I step up to her. I wish I could just reach out and pull her to my chest. "You mean everything."
"I don't know what happened to you, but I was wrong about you. You're not the same boy I sat in the truck with."
"No, I'm not," I deadpan.
"Exactly!"
"What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you every dirty detail of why I am the way I am? Fine. I was chained in a freezer for weeks. I was beaten and whipped with leather straps and metal chains. My body was burned with searing branders. I was raped over and over…so many fuckin' times that my asshole was ripped open. Is that what you want, Jorga, you want the truth? There it is."