Each color signifies something different. “Do you remember what they mean, or should I go through it with you again?” Gia asks.
I stare blankly at the colors. “Of course, I know what they fucking mean. I helped you create them.” I snap.
Gia smiles, “Then pick a color, baby.”
Each color signifies a person’s sexual interests. Black is for the darkest of those who wish to play, meaning you could be into blood type shit, deep double penetration, being flogged and anything sort of degrading. Of course, you’re supposed to let your partner know your limits. White means you’re into kink, but nothing too crazy. Purple means you’re a brat and might be into the daddy/mommy scene. Not age play, but the kink. Red is the signifier for being a pain slut, pink is for those who refer to themselves as a babygirl, but I helped Gia also add furry play into that part. Blue means water, so on and so forth.
Okay, Diem created the idea, but I was the one who helped Gia figure out how to maximize on her idea.
I scan my eyes across the chokers, ultimately picking up what I’m sure Gia knew I would— black.
Chapter Three
Do not give your past the power to define your future
~ Unknown
Chaz
“Uncle Chaz, why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” Zoe curiously questions me, furrowing her brows like she doesn’t understand the fact not everyone needs to be in a committed relationship.
Widow sits back, staring at me from the other side of the bonfire. I bet he’s about to club my head in if I answer her the wrong way or corrupt his precious little angel. “No one can bother putting up with your uncle that long, sweetheart.” Cheyenne elbows me, poking fun.
Zoe busts out into the cutest laughter, and right about now is when it hits me. My son would’ve been maybe a year or so older than her. Shit, how I wish life turned out differently. “Momma, did you hear Cheyenne?!” Zoe asks, looking over to Rebel who’s sitting on Nikolai’s lap.
If someone would’ve told me years ago that Nikolai, Rebel, and Widow could be in the same vicinity without tearing each other to shreds, I don’t know if I would’ve believed them. Cheyenne is still new to Zoe, so she hasn’t exactly earned the aunt title yet.
“I sure did, and it sounds about right if you ask me. Your uncle Chaz has always been up to trouble,” Rebel smirks, joining in on the teasing me bit.
“Y’all make me sound like I’m horrible.” I tell the two of them.
“No, not horrible.” Cheyenne giggles lightly, sitting beside me on the picnic table. She and I have gotten really fucking close, like really close, but not that close. Some days I sit here and wonder what it would be like to have a woman like her in my life, but I typically remind myself that with love comes pain, and I don’t think I could survive going through shit again. Not the way I did before.
I pick up the green plastic cup I’ve been drinking out of the last couple hours and smile at her, catching the way her dark eyes glimmer in the light. She told me when I first met her that she was a lesbian, but part of me thinks she’s bisexual and she just told me that so I wouldn’t pursue her. Shit, with the way she’s looking at me now . . . it really makes me wonder.
“Why don’t you ask Cheyenne why she doesn’t have a girlfriend?” I ask Zoe, figuring Cheyenne can get fucked with a lil’ bit here too.
Zoe cranes her neck to the side. “How come!?”
Cheyenne chuckles before she shrugs. “Haven’t met the right lady, I guess.”
“How did you know you liked girls?” Zoe asks, coming a little closer.
“What do you mean? I’ve always liked girls.” Cheyenne responds.
“You always knew you wanted to kiss them?” Zoe asks.
Cheyenne giggles lightly. “Yeah, in a way, the same way I knew I liked to kiss boys . . . I just like kissing girls a little bit more if that makes sense.”
Zoe furrows her brows, “I’m confused. You like both boys and girls?”
“I do,” Cheyenne nods.
Now I’m lookin’ at her like she’s a big, fat, liar . . . ‘cause she fuckin’ is.
“There’s a word for that. A girl in my class is it. Clare . . . what’s the word for liking both boys and girls?” Zoe mutters to herself.
“A bi-sexual.” Cheyenne fills her in.
Zoe nods. “Yeah, my friend Clare, she’s a bi-sexual.”
“That’s nice.” Cheyenne smiles, feeling a little odd, I think. She’s not the girl’s parents and yet she’s having a full-on LGBTQ+ conversation with Zoe.
Zoe moves in a little closer to us and whispers. I can barely hear her over the cracking of the fire. “Can I tell you a secret?” She asks.
I nod, and so does Cheyenne. “I’ve always liked girls, too. I haven’t told my momma, or my dad yet, or Nikolai. I’m afraid to tell them . . . but I like girls. They’re so pretty, and fun, and I really like them. Boys are gross, and so stupid sometimes.”
Cheyenne’s smile grows so wide, I doubt I’ve ever seen her smile like this. “That’s okay. You tell your parents and Nikolai when you’re ready, okay? There’s no rush to do it, just like there’s no rush to tell anyone else. And do me a favor, kid, okay?”
“What kinda favor?” Zoe asks, curious as can be yet again.
Cheyenne places both hands on Zoe’s shoulders, “Don’t you ever let anyone make you feel bad for being true to yourself. Okay?”
“What, like mean to me, for . . . liking girls?” She still keeps her voice low, like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear her.
Cheyenne nods. “Yeah, kinda. People can be really mean, and sometimes they’re mean about this. They use it as a way to pick on us, for being lesbians, or bi-sexual, or whoever people like us are interested in . . . but don’t ever feel like you need to conform to societies standards. Alright?”
“Okay . . . I guess.” Zoe says, getting a little annoyed with how adult this conversation has shifted. She starts to turn and run off, but Cheyenne takes hold of her hand.
“Oh, and Zoe. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us.” Cheyenne tells her, getting a smile from the little girl.
Only, it’s not just a smile. Zoe whips back around and wraps her arms around Cheyenne. “Thanks, Aunt Cheyenne, you’re the best.” She says before she darts back over to where her dad is.
Cheyenne and I both lock eyes on the other and down whatever we have left in our glasses. “You wanna tell me why you always told me you went down a one-way street, Chey’?” I try to keep my tone like usual, but it pisses me off that she never told me this.
“I thought you’d try to fuck our friendship up and try to sleep with me. Shit, all the single guys here tried and you know it. But when I said I was a lesbian, it shot them all down.”
I shake my head, aggravated she lied. “Pisses me off, Chey’.”
“Look, I’m sorry. In the beginning things weren’t easy for me here and you know it.” Cheyenne wanted nothing to do with being part of a biker club when she got here. Not in the least bit. Her brother’s in one. They’re actually allies to us, but we don’t really communicate with them as much as we do with other clubs like the Satan’s Raiders MC, Skulls Renegade MC, Knights of Retribution MC, or even the Iron Vex MC. It’s a weird situation if you ask me and given what she’s said about her communication with her brother . . . it’s a ticking time bomb.
“Need a refill?” Vivi asks the two of us. I don’t communicate with many of the girls from the Bad Bunnies Brothel, but I do get along with this one. She’s sweet on the eyes and her personality matches everything else.
“That would be swell,” I tell her, handing her my cup. I take Cheyenne’s and hand hers over too.
“Tequila, or is it bartender’s choice?”
“Anything but the rail Mouser gets,” Cheyenne groans. Vivi releases a chuckle and walks off while I recall the last time Cheyenne and Mouser decided to try and one up each other. Both of them lost their stomachs that night.
“I hope you know I’m not just lyi
ng about being sorry. I didn’t do it to hurt you, but rather to keep my footing and protect myself.”
“Look, I know you didn’t mean shit by it, but lying is never the way to go. You’re not a dumb woman, Chey’.” I mutter. Shit, I didn’t realize how much her words really hurt me.
Vivi comes strutting back over in her denim short-shorts that her ass is peeking out of, handing us our drinks. “Thanks, Vivi.” I say, shifting my eyes right back over to Cheyenne.
She takes a sip and meets my eyes. “Surely you’ll cut me some slack.”
“Yeah, maybe a little. What makes you think you deserve more than that?”
Her eyes widen and before I realize it, she’s thrown her drink in my fucking face. I’m soaked. “Are you kidding me?” I hiss in complete outrage.
“I could say the same damn thing.” She shakes her head, furious as can be. “I was by your damn side the entire time you went through those surgeries. Sakura and I, we were there for you, operating on freaking twelve-hour shifts. Who was the one there in the middle of the night when you were waking up from the pain, or the nightmares? Who was the one there when you wanted to give up and end it like Lauren did? I was. I was the one there, touching you, making sure you knew you had fucking support. I lied to you about one small thing and here you are, preaching to me about how I might not deserve your understanding? Fuck you, Chaz.” Cheyenne snarls, glaring at me like she never has before.
“Don’t say her name,” I warn.
No one ever gets to speak about Lauren. Fuck, I don’t even speak about her.
“Why? So you can just forget she even existed, or Eli? No. Face your truth like everyone else faces theirs.” Cheyenne shakes her head and starts to walk away from me.
I hop off the top of the picnic table and go after her but coming up on my right is Widow. He places a hand on my chest and I flare my nostrils. “Let me go, brother.” I tell him.
He shakes his head, “Not happenin’, man. You two are both too heated and we have kids here now.”
“This is between Chey’ and I.” I say, staring at her while she walks off.
“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ obvious. Give her some room to breathe, brother.”
I notice Damon walking up from the other side with Luna in his arms, “Take a walk, Chaz. In the opposite damn direction.”
Motherfucker. Shaking my head, I accept defeat and walk off in the opposite direction of Cheyenne. Though, it won’t matter. She’s gotta come back to the trailer later anyway. She moved out of Sakura’s house and has been rooming with me. It’ll either be explosive, or cathartic. Guess we’ll see.
Chapter Four
I won’t be remembered as a woman who keeps her mouth shut. I’m okay with that
~ OurMindfulLife.Com
Crina
I stare at myself in the mirror, looking at the platinum blonde wig I’m wearing. It stops just below my ass. It’s so platinum the color is almost white. I pick up my matte crimson red lipstick and lean in closer to the mirror, careful as I drag it over my lips to not mess up. Pressing my lips together, I smudge the lipstick and back up to look at myself.
My lips match the red peeking out through the lace number I have on tonight. I have on four-inch heels with black stockings. My panties offer full coverage, continuing the lace and the red rose design. It stops maybe two inches under where my bra does, making me look like a decadent present wrapped securely in a lovely bow.
I place my hands on both ends of my hair and pull about half to the front, giving me a bit of dimension. Lifting my chin up, I stare at the pearl . . . wondering what the fuck I’m doing with my life. It already feels like I’ve traded one prison for another, even if it was unintentional.
I suck in a breath, throw on my trench coat, and hope Sorin doesn’t see me. He went over to my house to fetch some things for me, and luckily he was able to get past the front door by entering our father’s birthday as the passcode. Though, the task I have him doing for me is actually the only way to hope we don’t cross paths.
I hurry out of the guest bathroom and walk through his condo. My heels click and clack against the marble floors and before I know it, I’m on my way down the elevator. Within a few minutes I’m in the back of an Uber on my way to Crave, LLC.
The driver assumed I was some sort of performer here in Vegas, and I simply nodded and told him that. It’s better he doesn’t know where I work, or what I do. I can’t believe what I’m about to do tonight. The reality sinks in while I’m in the back of this damn car. I’m about to offer my body up to someone for cold, hard cash. Though, if I’m being honest it’s probably enough cash to last me a month . . . if I decide to be a minimalist. I could, and if I have to, I will. It’s as simple as that.
I suck in a sharp breath as he pulls in front of the skyscraper. Since I’ve already paid through the app I head straight inside the building. My phone begins to buzz in my small crossbody purse, so I pull it out and see it’s my brother.
From: Sorin
I won’t be back until late. Don’t wait up.
I spot another notification indicating I’ve missed another text, so I scroll down and tap away.
From: Mircea
If you want to come back, you still have time. He hasn’t casted you out yet, sister.
I’m quick to type a reply to both of my brothers.
To: Sorin
All good. Same here. I should have a place within the next couple days.
To: Mircea
Go fuck yourself, ass kisser.
I slide my phone back into my purse and walk through the lobby, head toward the elevator, and pull out the keycard that’ll grant me access to any of the four floors. Only Crave girls have the keycard allowing access to all four floors, while clients have access to the top two. Fortunately, I was the only one in the elevator on my way up.
I take in a deep breath as the doors open to the club and walk into the thumping music and darkness with only the neon purple and pink lights on display. I strut forward and approach the coat check, giving them my trench. The man hands me a card so I slide it into my purse, determined to keep that on me tonight. Plus, if I’m going to get tipped, I’ll need it to stash my cash.
I move further into the club, heading directly over to the bar. Getting through this night isn’t going to be possible without some liquid courage. One of the girls comes up behind the bar and walks over to me, “What can I get you, babe?”
“Tequila, on the rocks, please.”
“For sure,” She says over the music, smiling. After a moment she brings it over and narrows her eyes in on me. “Crina? Is that you?”
I don’t know this woman at all, or at least I don’t think I do. “Who’s asking?”
“It’s Bea. I’ve had a lil’ work done, babe.” She smirks, pointing to her lips, nose, and tits.
“Holy shit! You look amazing. I had no idea you . . . wow, you look so good.” I tell her.
Her smile grows, “Thanks so much. You here for some pleasure?”
I laugh, “No. I work for the company.”
Bea blinks a couple times while she processes that. Everyone here knows I dated Gia. For fuck’s sake, I was always around. “Gia . . . she let you come . . . work here?”
I nod, “Yep. She’s the one who told me to choose one of these.” I point to my choker.
Bea presses her lips together. “I smell trouble already. If I remember correctly, she was quite possessive over you.”
“Yeah, she was.” I agree, though it wasn’t in a bad way.
“I should warn you, I’m pretty sure I saw that hottie of a brother you have here.” Bea teases, licking her bottom lip.
“Sorin?” I question, suddenly getting nauseous.
“Uh, no, the one with hair.”
“Fuck!” Mircea had to be here tonight. Fuck me sideways.
“Do me a favor and flag me down if you see him anywhere close to me. I don’t want to get—”
“Oh, honey, he’s already in the dungeon. Don�
��t you worry about that. Last time he was there for about five hours.” Bea giggles. Meanwhile, I want to vomit. I physically feel the bile rising in my throat.
“God, please stop while you’re ahead. Please.” I practically beg her.
“Fine, ruin my fun. Anyway, you’re really working tonight . . . on the floor?”
I nod, “Yeah. Gia told me it’s what she wanted, so here I am.”
“You’re right. It is what I wanted. Now come along, baby. I have a client for you.” Gia’s voice comes out of nowhere, causing a chill to run down my spine.
I turn to face her, seeing her decked out in a deep sapphire blue bodysuit. The lace hugs every curve and crevasse of her body. “What? When did things start working like this?” Never has anyone grabbed clients for the girls. They’re always choosing who they spend time with.
“About six months ago we implemented a program called matching. I’m sure you can figure out how it works. Now, come. I don’t have time to waste tonight.” Gia starts to walk off, and I follow her, but before I do I down the tequila Bea made for me.
Gia leads me downstairs which causes my heart to race a mile a minute, especially since I know my brother is here. Halfway down the stairwell Gia comes to a halt and turns to look back at me. “What’s the matter?”
“Mircea is here.”
Gia rolls her eyes. “He’s too busy balls deep in pussy to pay attention to who’s walking by. Come on, unless you want to have a discussion like this in the hallway and have him see you.”
As much as I don’t want to admit it. She’s right. So, I break the distance between us and we head down the rest of the stairs. Gia makes a left toward some of the private rooms and we continue going through the corridor until we’re in front of the infamous red room. With a red velvet door, it eludes to what is behind it. Red fabric, red accessories, and red lighting. Of course, there’s the occasional black bit.
Chaz (Reapers MC Book 14) Page 3