by K. Ryan
I folded my arms tightly across my chest, not at all comfortable with the direction this conversation was heading in. "So you're saying you don't trust her."
"I didn't say that, son," Marcus backpedalled quickly. "She's a good girl. Everybody knows that. No one's sayin' she isn't. But she's an outsider, Caleb. She may know about all that pussy and Jack you've been takin' on the last few months, but she don't know shit about what you do for the club or how you really make the cash that's gonna set her up in a nice house someday. Problems at home and problems with your old lady because of what you need to do for your club will screw with your priorities, son. You gotta figure out if she's gonna be an asset or a weakness because she can't be both."
I bristled at his words. "I trust her. It doesn't matter that she's an outsider. I'll get her on the same page with everything. It's not an issue."
"Well," he shrugged. "We got that patch-over party comin' up. Should be a good test for her, huh?"
All I could do was nod tightly and tell him what he needed to hear: "She'll be fine."
It would be a major culture shock for her, that was for sure, but as long as I stayed close to her, she really would be just fine.
"Alright," Marcus clapped me on the shoulder. "Just wanted to be sure we were on the same page. I'm happy for ya, Caleb. I really am. You've been in a pretty dark place lately and I'm glad to see you finally on the other side of it. If she's the reason you've got your head back in the game now, then so be it."
My club Prez's words were like a sandpit I'd sunken into and I had to crawl my way out of it even as he clapped me on the shoulder. He stalked off to mingle with the other MCs who'd shown up for support, all the while playing the part of the cool, level-headed leader, despite that last warning glance he shot over his shoulder at me.
What the hell was that? The inquisition, followed by the abrupt turnaround, was just as surprising as it was unsettling, not to mention completely uncalled for.
While I knew Marcus was only technically doing his job as club president and pointing out that Isabelle was an outsider was well within his rights, it pissed me off that Marcus wouldn't trust me enough to make the right choice here.
My eyes scanned the dance floor and my mouth curved up into a smile when I found her shaking her hips with Becca. Isabelle was absolutely the right choice.
Sure, she was going to need some guidance, but she could do it. Marcus didn't know even half of what Isabelle had already dealt with in her life and I knew that when the time came, and Isabelle once and for all proved herself to be the strong, iron-willed old lady she needed to be, Marcus would eat his words.
And as another slow song started and I weaved in and out through the crowd to find her, I couldn't have been more confident in my relationship with her, even though it was still so new. I'd dove in headfirst with her and there was nothing about it that scared me.
My hands slid around her waist to bring her hips closer and I could feel her sigh as her arms wound around my neck. This was where I was supposed to be.
I'd been lost and I'd found myself again in this girl's arms.
"Hey, babe," I whispered into her ear, loving that it was enough to make her shiver. "Couple more slow songs and then let's get outta here, okay?"
She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded back shyly. "Okay."
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Initiation
Isabelle
Culture shock.
That's about all I could think right now. Caleb warned me—he'd told me it would be wild, he'd told me it would be rowdier than all the times I'd been at the clubhouse combined, but that still hadn't mentally prepared me for the patch-over.
It was literally impossible to move anywhere on the clubhouse's main floor without rubbing up against someone. People of all shapes, sizes, and beard-lengths packed the floor from wall to wall and the music blared that much louder from the speakers overhead just to even be heard. In between Def Leppard and Metallica, which I wasn't crazy about, someone was also blasting Tom Petty, Rush, and The Doors too, which was totally fine.
Lexie had wisely decided to sit this one out and I couldn't blame her one bit because if I was eight and a half months pregnant, there's no way I'd be anywhere near this place right now either. Becca, on the other hand, was in attendance, but I could count on one hand the number of minutes I'd actually spent next to her tonight even though the patch-over party had officially gotten off and rolling well over an hour ago.
When my supposed best friend wasn't sucking the lips off Eli, she was holed up in the bathroom. Her and Elena always came out one right after the other and at this point, I was pretty sick of the disappearing act.
Despite all that, I was never really alone during this thing because Caleb had yet to leave my side even once. His arm was just casually draped over my shoulder, but that constant contact was exactly what I needed to keep my head in this game. I was here, at this Horsemen-sponsored patch-over celebration, as his old lady and he'd taken every opportunity to make that very clear to anyone not directly connected to his club.
Since they were hosting two other clubs in their clubhouse, I figured this constant contact was as much about claiming his property as it was easing my nerves and even if the term property grated on every feminist instinct in my body, for this occasion, I just had to grin and bear it.
This time was different than all the other times I'd been here. Before, it'd been strictly about the party. This time, there was as much business happening here as there was celebration.
"That's Cesar Ortega," Caleb murmured lowly in my ear, gesturing with his beer bottle towards a burly Latino with a thick black goatee and a leather cut with a Los Lobos emblem stitched into the back. "He's the Lobos' Prez."
He'd been discreetly keeping me in the loop like this since the two clubs arrived and just as I was about to ask Caleb why the Horsemen were even involved in all this patch-over business in the first place, I felt him stiffen beside me as another Latino, a short man with days-old dark stubble covering his cheeks, sidled up in front of us with his arm wrapped around a tiny, gorgeous girl. They were probably a good 10 years older than us, but between the glassy, red-rimmed eyes and smug expressions, they definitely weren't acting that way.
Caleb tucked me in even tighter under his arm, angling his body to put himself between me and the sneering couple, who looked like they were absolutely perfect for each other.
As they approached, the man's eyes crawled up and down the length of my body and my skin recoiled even though he hadn't actually touched me. In these 10 seconds alone, I suddenly felt like I needed to take a shower. The man's lips widened into an arrogant, knowing smirk, not unlike the Grinch, as he leered back at me, but when I glanced at Caleb, I saw exactly where the source of this evil grin really lied.
Caleb gone completely rigid next to me and his lips had ever so slightly curled up into a furious snarl. This whole exchange, even though no one had actually said anything yet, suddenly reeked of danger and hostility and all I could do was lean into Caleb even deeper for protection.
"Classy broad you got there, ese," the man goaded, taking the opportunity to let his dark eyes trail from my chest down to my toes and all the way back up again.
Desperate for a distraction, I glanced down at my own attire versus the woman sneering across from me. I'd taken great care tonight to make sure I looked like I belonged here, but also that I looked like I was with someone here too. My black, stretchy skirt flared out a little at my thighs and was short enough to draw attention to my legs, but long enough to still leave something to the imagination. I'd tucked a silky teal tank top into my skirt that showed just a teeny bit of cleavage and completed the look with spiky studded high heels, loose, beachy waves, and a few gold bangles around my wrist.
Compared to the other woman, with her midriff-baring tube top, barely-there jean skirt, and heavy-handed makeup—yeah, I really did look classy. So, basically, I got the reaction I wanted.
Caleb sagely cho
se to ignore the comment and instead tilted the neck of his beer bottle towards the couple. "Iz, this is Diego Padilla. He's with the Cobras."
"Club president of the Cobras," Diego corrected, his mouth matching Caleb's snarled sneer.
Caleb just huffed out a laugh, his lips twisting into that cocky grin I knew well. "Sure. Whatever you say."
Their standoff went on for a few more long moments as both Caleb and Diego seemed to circle each other without even moving. Finally, Diego nodded to me.
"I take it she's your old lady, huh?"
The arm draped around my shoulders stiffened. "That's right."
Diego lifted a shoulder. "Looks like you did well for yourself, Sawyer," he jutted his chin out towards the woman under his arm, "Luz is my girl."
Caleb afforded the woman one courteous nod, but all the goodwill and civility was sucked right out of this exchange the second Diego brought his glowing cigarette to his lips and blew the smoke right into my face.
Caleb swung his arm out from around my shoulders and charged towards Diego until he gripped him by his leather cut with both white-knuckled fists, hoisting Diego up to his eye level.
"You wanna show a little fuckin' respect?" Caleb practically spat in his face, fury singeing off him in hot fumes.
Diego jerked away from Caleb's grip and shoved him in the chest, his hard face twisted with rage. I was frozen to the sticky floor, helpless to do anything but watch as Caleb stumbled back a half step and then sprung forward again, violently pounding Diego right back in the chest. Before either had a chance to make another move, Dominic had Caleb by the shoulders and someone else with a Cobra cut tugged Diego away from the scene to separate the two.
I dared a careful step forward, but a hand closed around my wrist to yank me back. Skyler was already shaking her head, silently telling me that I should know better than to try to get involved. That wasn't really what I was trying to do. I didn't want to get in the middle of anything, but my first instinct was just to get to Caleb.
Skyler kept her grip on my wrist as we observed from the sidelines. Marcus, with his bulky arms and gruff orders, was in between the two sides in a matter of seconds, calmly jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the main entrance, but even from where I stood, the cold menace in the club president's eyes was unmistakable.
When the smoke cleared, Skyler gingerly released her hold on me, gesturing with her head towards her son to let me know it was safe now. We approached the three Horsemen cuts together and Marcus' eyes flashed darkly at me from over Caleb's shoulder.
"Take your woman and step outside," Marcus was murmuring to Caleb as we got closer. "Have a smoke, get some head, whatever you gotta do, but don't come back inside my clubhouse until you've cooled your ass off, got it?"
Caleb nodded tightly, his jaw still clenched and his shoulders still rigid. Even I knew it would've been disastrous for all parties involved if any punches had actually gotten thrown and all for some smoke blown in my face. Whatever issues existed between Caleb and Diego ran deeper than what had just happened and I had a feeling we were all really lucky it hadn't escalated any further.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Cesar Ortega reading Diego the same riot act and then the Lobos' club president shoved his new patch away and out of his sight. Caleb was already draping his arm around my shoulder again to lead me outside and his warm breath in my ear was about all I could focus on despite the commotion.
"You okay, Iz?"
I nodded, locking my hands around his waist to support him just as much as he was supporting me and then Caleb pushed us out through the main doors with his free hand. There were still hordes of leather cuts and barely-dressed women packed outside the grounds, but unlike inside the stuffy and smoky clubhouse, I felt like I could actually breathe a little bit now.
"Are you okay?" I asked as he led me past the crowd and through the parking lot, headed right for our picnic table next to the shop.
"Don't worry about me," Caleb just shrugged. "Nothin' happened anyways, you know?"
For all his protests, his chest was still heaving and his eyes were still glazed over a dark animosity I'd never seen before. I frowned back at him as he dropped onto the bench and gestured for me to do the same. As I settled onto the bench, cozying up to him as close as possible, his arm found my shoulder again and his left leg jumped manically underneath the table.
"Baby, it's fine. Just do what Marcus told you to do and have a cigarette. I'm not gonna do the other thing he said, at least not out here, so I guess that's your only option," I told him diplomatically.
Caleb arched an amused eyebrow at me. "What other thing?"
When he slipped his fingers underneath my skirt and trailed them up my thigh, I smacked him on the shoulder.
"Shut up."
He gestured with his head towards the clubhouse with a wolfish grin, his hand still planted under my skirt. "We could sneak in through the back and go in my dorm. No one would ever know."
I shot him a wary glance. "What about your complex with me and the bed in your dorm, huh?"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, babe," he shrugged a little too easily. "Besides, who said anything about using the bed? There's the floor, my bathroom, my dresser...we could get creative."
My eyebrows rose. "You done?"
His lips twisted a little. "Sure."
"Just have the cigarette, Caleb. It's really okay."
He shook his head and squeezed my shoulder. "I'm not gonna do that with you right next to me and I'm not gonna leave this table with you sittin' here by yourself either."
"Wow," I shook my head at him in disbelief, but he just shrugged. "You can have a cigarette. One cigarette is not gonna kill me, you know."
Caleb's face dipped down in a somber grimace and he tucked me even deeper underneath his shoulder to press his lips into my hair. "That's not funny, Iz."
"I know. Sorry. But seriously, just do it. You and I both know that other than sex, which isn't happening right now, that's the only thing that's gonna calm you down."
With one more exasperated glance in my direction, he shifted on the bench to dig his cigarette pack and a lighter out of his back pocket. Once it was lit, he purposely angled his head away from me so he could blow his smoke in the opposite direction. The second he took the first pull from the cigarette, all the tension seemed to roll right off him.
Part of me wasn't sure how much I'd be overstepping my new role as old lady by asking questions, but then again, Caleb had told me he'd answer any question I had. Even if he could only give me vague responses, it would still be better than the next to no information I had right now.
"What happened back there, baby?"
He lifted a shoulder and turned his head to blow out some more smoke again. "Padilla's a dickhead. That's what happened. He and I haven't gotten along pretty much since day one."
"Why?"
"I can't really explain it, but there's just somethin' about him that I don't trust. Somethin' that just doesn't feel right, you know?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I kinda got that feeling about him and his girlfriend too."
"Take this last run," Caleb went on and he obviously wasn't shying away from the details I wanted. "Everything's planned to the T, right down to the last second because it has to be. And what does the asshole do but ride in a half hour late, still drunk and high from the night before, and acts like it's no big deal. All because the dumbshit decided partying before the drop-off was a better idea than partying after, which is what anyone with half a brain knows is what you really do. That was his club's test run and it was like bein' on time wasn't even a consideration."
"Sounds like his ego is the only big thing about him."
"Right," he huffed out a laugh. "But you know, I think the part that pissed me off the most was that he could've screwed that whole run up for me too."
"Why?"
I felt like that word was on continual replay on my tongue, but this was the only way I'd ever start to m
ake sense of this chaotic world. Even though I'd been doing my best to pay attention to the structure of the club as much as I could, there was still so much I didn't know and still so much I didn't quite understand.
"I gotta prove I can lead, babe," Caleb told me, leaning his shoulder down into mine with a soft smile playing on his lips. "Someday soon, when I get that VP patch, I need the club to be behind me, especially since VP leads to Prez."
"Isn't Dominic's dad the VP already though?"
"Yeah," Caleb told me with a grin. Clearly, he was proud I'd been doing my homework. "But Heath's gone downhill pretty quick over the last few years. His heart's seen better days and his lungs are next, I think. Pretty soon, he won't be able to ride, and if you can't ride, you can't rank. He could still sit at the table and everything, but he couldn't hold an office."
"So, the next in line is you?"
"Yeah."
"Because of your dad?"
Caleb scrubbed a hand over his face and flicked his spent cherry into the night air. "Maybe that's my foot in the door, but I like to think I'm qualified for the job 'cuz of more than that. This is what I was born to do. I don't know how to do anything else anyways, but I want the gavel because I earned it, not just because of my last name. And this club, these guys, they've been my family since I was born, had my back, dealt with all my shit. The least I can do is step up and have their back just as much as they've always had mine."
That made sense, especially given what I knew about his family's history within the ranks of the club. Of course he'd be heading in that direction, or at least, wanted to be.
"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you're gonna be a great leader someday."
He leaned forward to brush his lips against the side of my head. "Thanks, babe."
Now, that we were rolling with all this club business, I figured we might as well keep the train going.