Ashby pushed me forwards, in front of him just as Marilyn came practically running over, disapproval clear on her face.
"You were meant to be resting!" her voice a mixture of anger and concern.
"Chill out, doc" Ashby rolled his eyes, shooting me a smirk.
"What's your poison, Peaches? Pepsi, Coke, or sprite?" Eyeing him, I knew he was thinking about my age. Not that I was in the condition to be drinking alcohol, but did he have to point it out like that, in front of everyone.
"Don't look at me like that," he muttered, instantly knowing what I was thinking. How did he do that?
"I didn’t..."
"You didn't have to. I don't drink".
"You don't drink?" This surprised me, especially seeing everyone around us. These people he spent his time around were all drinking, a lot from the looks of it. Every person I looked at was holding either a glass containing an amber liquid or a bottle of beer.
Shaking his head, I could feel Marilyn, as well as many other eyes on us. Unable to look away from him as she shifted on his feet, as if he was uncomfortable. "Ever?"
"No. My mom was a drunk, an addict who was more interested in who could get her fucked up, so I've never drunk. Watching her self-destruct, I promised myself that I would never put myself or anyone else through that kind of life".
"Does it bother you, being around everyone else drinking?"
"No. The guys get drunk, yes, but not like an addict does, and I spend a lot of time in my room or…."
"Or?" I found myself asking when he stayed silent a moment too long.
As though I hadn't asked the question, he looked away, speaking to Marilyn instead of answering me, "Can you get her a coke or something" Almost all of the men's eyes in the room were now on me. I had never felt so uncomfortable in my entire life, "I need to speak to Daryl," and then he just walked away, without so much as a glance at me.
After the confession he had just made, I felt like he was almost embarrassed about it, as though he hadn't meant to say as much as he had done about his own mom.
"Come on, Nala," I let Marilyn drag me away from the crowd as my eyes continued to follow his movements. "You really should be at home, in bed," leaning against the bar, I was surprised not to see the raven-haired woman sitting here. Exactly where she had been when Ashby had first dragged me into this place. The one who did not seem happy to see me, for some reason.
Scoffing "Home?" that was the last place I wanted to be right now.
Why did she think I was here?
Just the thought of being back in such close proximity to my mom made my blood run cold.
Knowing that I couldn't avoid her forever, but at least tonight, well, at least I had somewhere else I could be to collect my thoughts. Even if it was the local biker gang, club's clubhouse.
"Are you okay?" Her cold hand touched my exposed arm, making me cringe, "You going to let me report it?" She asked when I stayed silent, my eyes looking for him and coming up empty.
Thinking for a moment, I shook my head. "What good will that do?"
People were leaning on the mahogany bar all around us. Nursing beers and shots in their hands, the stench of alcohol in the air was making my queasy stomach churn.
"Please think about it, Nala, it..." She was struggling for words, and I could understand that, even I could not fully comprehend what she had been doing, and it was me that it had happened to.
"Okay," even though I was pretty sure we both knew I couldn't do something like that to my mom. Even if she could do what she had done to me.
A tall brunette came to a stop in front of us, wearing a bikini top and matching gold hot pants. "What can I get you, doc?"
"A coke, for Nala" at this, the brunette turned her gaze to me for a split second before turning around and grabbing a glass bottle. Placing it on the bar by my hand, she gave me a tight smile before making her way to one of the bikers shouting for her attention.
We fell into an uncomfortable silence. Where was Ashby?
"No good can come from getting yourself involved with these guys, either Nala, trust me" her voice was a whisper, but I heard every word.
Although I must say with the warning, I was intrigued about what she was doing here herself, involved with them. From all accounts of what Ashby had told me, she was dating the club's president. How did she get involved with them, and why was she warning me off?
"You seem to be fine with it," taking a small sip of the ice-cold Coke, I cringed as someone brushed passed me too closely.
She gave one short burst of a laugh. "Don't let looks deceive you, Nala, this is not a world you would want to be in, trust me. I am the one living in it, after all".
"Why? If it's so bad, why are you here?"
"I met Daryl," those three words said everything. She fell in love, and I bet that she wouldn't change having him for anything, even if she wanted too.
Tapping the cold glass bottle, "Drink this, and then you really need to rest," worry was evident in not only her voice but also on her face.
"Can I use the restroom?" The need to have some space from this crowd suddenly felt overwhelming.
"Sure, come on."
Abandoning the Coke, I followed her out of the bar and down a dim hall. The black-haired woman was watching my movements from an open doorway like I was the most exciting thing she had seen all day. Weird.
Marilyn pushed open a door. "This is mine and Daryl’s room, the en-suite is in the corner, I'll wait out here."
Looking around the room as she closed the door with a click, leaving me alone for the first time since I had snuck out of my house.
Part of me was shocked at how to put together their room was. I assumed it would be a mess. I guess it goes to show you should never judge a book by its cover.
Clumsily pulling my jean shorts back on and walking back into the bedroom from the en-suite, I found my eyes skimming over the photos that covered one of the dark gray walls.
Some looked like they went back to the sixties or possibly even further than that. Inspecting them closely, I was shocked to see one of a man I knew well, although it was clearly several years ago that this had been taken.
Mr. Bronx.
My English teacher.
Was he one of them?
I could not imagine him being involved with a biker gang. He was… the complete opposite of what you would associate with bikers. He looked more like the kind of man who went to libraries on the weekends and sat in coffee shops reading poetry. Not at all like anyone I had seen here.
That solid black tattoo flashed in my mind. It was in the same place as Ashby's club tattoo he had shown me on the bench. Did that mean he really was one of them? If so, why was it blacked out like that?
A large hand touched my shoulder, making me scream out in shock. I hadn't even heard the door open, concentrating too much on the photos in front of me.
"Jesus Peaches, calm yah tits," his light blue eyes were almost glowing in amusement. "What are you looking at?"
"I know him," tapping my finger on the glass, protecting the picture beneath it.
"Harley"
"Huh?"
"That's Harley, my cousin, Daryl’s son" did that mean Ashby was Ashby Bronx?
"He's my English teacher."
Nodding his head, he told me "He hasn't been here, in a while"
Grabbing ahold of his arm, I couldn't stop myself from running my fingers over the club tattoo on his skin. "He has a solid black rectangle in the same place."
I had expected some form of an answer, but none came. It almost felt like he just didn't want to explain something to me.
"Come on," tugging my hand, he pulled me towards the door and out into the hallway.
I had expected to see Marilyn waiting like she said she would be, but she was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the other woman for the matter.
"You can have the room down here, Daryl just had one of the girls change the sheets, and you can rest, docs pretty instant on that."
"She told me that no good could come from being here" from being involved with you. She hadn't said those exact words, but that is what she had meant. Not that anything was happening, or was going to happen. He was a lot older than me, after all. Then why did I hate that thought so much?
Ignoring my words, yet again he simply took me back out to the bar, holding my small hand in his large one, our fingers interlinking as we moved.
"You remember Pinky?" He nodded to the short guy from the tattoo parlor with the shaved head. The one who had waited at the hospital with him. How could Marilyn say that no good could come from these people? I don't know many other people in my life who would wait for a complete stranger as they had.
"Why do you call him Pinky?" I asked when the small man turned back to the leggy blond who was pouring whiskey into shot glasses on the bar.
"Yeah, not going there" was all he said, laughing before he was in front of us. What did that mean?
"Well, look at this, little miss cheer is here," a large man with frizzy shoulder-length hair looked at me like I was something to eat before throwing a look at the tall mass of muscles beside me who was actively avoiding eye contact with me.
"She is staying here for a night, or two. Peaches, this is Maxi"
"Oh? Nice to meet you, Peaches".
"Hi," my voice sounded small and weak. Exactly how I felt right now.
Ashby shoved his friend, biker crew member, hard and tugged me back towards the hall once again, away from the mass of people.
"This is my room," pointing a finger three doors down on the opposite side. "You'll be there."
Next thing I know, he walks through the door to his room and slams it in my face. What the hell?
Hesitantly I rose my wrist, about to knock on it when a petite blond woman came borrowing out of my room. Well, the one he said I was going to be staying in.
"Peaches?" Oh, for the love of God, was everyone going to be calling me that now? "It's all ready for you," she gave me a kind smile, the kindest smile that had been thrown my way since the nurse at the hospital.
"Thank you,."
"No need, darling, it’s what we do for our own," and then she was gone. Their own? The trouble was I was not one of them, but who was I now?
Moving my feet away from him and his closed door into my own room, I took a few calming breaths.
What was I doing here?
I should have stayed at home. Right?
Maybe Marilyn was right, and I should not be here, that no good could come from me being right here. Damn it.
Laying down on the hard, lumpy mattress, I finally allowed myself to cry.
So much had happened in one day, how was I meant to process it all?
More importantly, what the hell was I going to do in the morning?
Waking up the next morning, after only a couple of hours of sleep, a deep, almost masculine smell drifted throughout the room. It was as though someone had been in here, even though I knew that was impossible. I'd locked the door before getting into bed last night. Double checked it twice after my initial breakdown.
Sneaking out through the empty clubhouse bar, I was shocked to see that it was almost sparkling clean. Not one of the dirty glasses or an empty beer bottle that I had seen last night insight.
It was Friday morning, and there was no doubt in my mind that I was about to be late for school. If I didn't move fast, that is, there was no time to stop and admire the bar in the daylight. Tugging down my shorts, I had to almost run the entire way.
My car was still in the hospital parking lot, I would have to get it at some point today, but there just was not enough time this morning.
Stopping at the school entrance, blowing out a breath, I watched as other students stood around laughing with one another, not a care in the world. However, that was not what was holding my attention. Sitting there, like it should have been, was my car. Granted, it was on the opposite side of the lot from where I would usually park it but, how the hell had it gotten here? It was definitely still by the emergency room when I had left the hospital last night. Right?
A sudden burst of a warning bell told me I had just enough time to grab my extra cheer uniform from my locker and get changed before the first bell rang. Not enough time for a shower, but what could I do about that?
"Nala!" Claire shouted across the hall as I pulled my clean clothes out of the overfilled locker. "What the hell happened?" Closing the distance, she was glaring at me. Cringing into my locker, I hadn't managed to respond to her messages or the calls last night.
"Bathroom," tugging her by the hand, I quickly changed in one of the cubicles as she paced the room. Those doc martins were stomping with each agitated step as she waited impatiently for me to fill her in on what had happened after she had left the hospital last night.
"Come on, what happened?" She huffed as someone came into the bathroom with us. "Get out, I called you a hundred times," it was forty-five.
Coming out, I gave one last look around to make sure that there was no one else in the restroom with us, no one to overhear what I was about to tell my best friend.
"I needed" Sighing, I didn't know how to tell her, "I just needed some time to think, I'm fine, Claire."
"You said that yesterday, and look at how that turned out, Nala!" She threw both hands in the air, "You ended up in the emergency room!"
She had a point with that "Claire, I promise we will hang out this weekend, and I will tell you everything, but I just need to…I just need to deal with these feelings."
"Are you dying?"
"Jesus, Claire!" Realising she didn't actually know anything that had happened to me, I knew that I had to tell her something "No, I really am fine, I will be okay; it was just an accident."
"You do realize I don't believe a god damned word, don't you, Nala?"
"I love you."
"Spill it, Reeves," she crossed her arms in front of her. "I can do this all damn day."
Sighing, I looked down at my tennis shoes, unwilling to see the expression she would have when registering the next few words to leave my mouth. "My blood test came back with high levels of something in it."
"Oh my god, are you pregnant?" In a voice that was so high only dogs should have been able to hear it, "I thought you weren't sleeping with him after…"
"For the love of God, Claire, I am not pregnant."
"So, what was it then?"
Taking a deep breath, I knew I had to just rip the Band-Aid off and tell her, dragging this out would only result in a worse reaction "My mom has been drugging me with appetite suppressants."
Her mouth dropped open, and when no words came out for a second, I thought she had gone into shock.
"Are you… are you freaking serious, Nala?"
Nodding my head, I ran my hands through my hair before shoving it up into a ponytail. Really, I should have washed it today. "You don't have any dry shampoo, do you?"
"No, what are you going to do, about your mom?"
"I don't know," the thought of going back home after sneaking out last night filled me with dread “I haven’t seen her since I walked out last night” or, I guess it was technically this morning.
"Walked out? Wait, where the hell did you stay last night?"
Sighing, I stopped talking as a freshman walked into the restroom, tugging Claire out and along the hallway, I explained, "Don't overreact, but I stayed at The Unholy Confessions clubhouse last night."
Coming to a sudden halt, her grip on my arm tugged me backward mid-step. "Fuck off!"
"Claire," scolding her as several people turned to look, including Brandon. Who was glaring at me with such an intense gaze that it made me swallow an invisible lump in the back of my throat.
I half expected him to come over, especially after our altercation yesterday, but he turned his back to me, walking away until I could no longer see him.
Camila following closely behind, like the dutiful mistress she was.
Well, she could have him for
all I cared. I really needed to end that. The whole situation was making me more and more uncomfortable.
Soon enough, though, my wish was answered, and I ended up face to face with my 'boyfriend' in the hall between classes.
Leaning against the locker, I hoped he would simply walk past. Ignoring me like he had done most of the morning, but no, I was not that lucky this time. He stood so close I pressed my back against the lockers as he placed a hand on either side of my shoulders. My fingers itched to call the number I had saved, just last night. Ashby.
Peaches: MC Romance (The Unholy Confessions Book 1) Page 6