by Jc Emery
“I know,” he says without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. His arrogance knows no bounds. “Walk with me, Nic. Let’s go find Duke,” he says and leads me through the crowd of strewn about tables and chairs and the occasional sofa. I’d rather not be tucked into Ryan’s side, but it’s not worth the argument, so I go anyway. We pass the main hallway that leads down to the chapel, the palace, and the bedrooms. In the back of the clubhouse is the game room. In the center is a pool table with dark red velvet lining and an overhead light that’s styled in a Nordic head-piece fashion. There’s an AC/DC pinball machine in one corner and a Pac-Man machine in another. Ryan removes his arm from over my shoulders and moves to stand in front of me.
“Hey Brother, you wanna share?” Ryan asks. My entire body tenses up at the question. The word no flies through my brain repeatedly and at rapid speed. No, no, no, no. He’s a jackass, but is he really this much of a jackass? A rough, masculine voice laughs and instinctively, my head flops forward between the shoulder blades of Ryan’s back. It’s Duke. Just like I knew it would be, but knowing something and finding something out are two totally different things.
“Fuck you,” Duke says. He sounds occupied. “Get your own pussy.”
Ryan’s shoulders shake with laughter. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I’m a Lost Girl, not his Old Lady. I know better than to assume anything with these guys. It doesn’t matter how much I know better than to have come here and asking for Duke, it doesn’t make the humiliation and frustration any easier to deal with. I left Darren and the bar so I could be here and feel better. I figured maybe Duke and I could hook up again and for a little while I could make like he means the words he says, and I could feel like I belong. I didn’t always want to—belong that is—but once I started babysitting Chel’s kid and we got closer, I I ended up spending more time here. It was so natural that I nearly didn’t even realize what I was becoming until I’d already become it. And now I’m here, feeling like the biggest fool on earth for thinking I fit in well enough to handle this shit with Duke without getting hurt. I am an idiot.
A few very long, very brutal moments pass before Ryan steps forward, giving me the worst fucking view imaginable. Duke’s back is propped up against the arm of the sofa, facing the other direction, and I let out a silent sigh of relief. He can’t see me here—not when I feel like this. His short blond hair is slicked back tonight. It’s barely a few inches long, but it’s in that awkward place where it falls in his eyes, but isn’t quite long enough to tuck behind his ears. Above him on the sofa, straddling his legs, is Dawn. She’s a Lost Girl, too. But she takes it to a whole other level. I don’t think I can name a single club member she hasn’t slept with. Even Jim had a go at her during one of his and Ruby’s fights a few years back. It wasn’t pretty, but now Ruby avoids the clubhouse even when Jim invites her to come to a party, and Dawn knows better than to say a word to her.
Dawn’s naked form moves up and down as slowly as she can. Her arms are stretched out before her, resting atop Duke’s chest. Her eyes are focused on him, making my voyeurism all that much more invasive. Ryan waits another beat and then leans down and whispers in my ear, “Enjoy the show, bitch.”
Then he quietly walks away, giving me a pat on my boob as he goes. The farther away he gets, the more I want to stay here and cement this moment in my mind.
She lifts herself up, biting her lower lip, and then shudders as she lowers herself. Duke’s hands are at her hips, guiding her. She moves above him, making herself mewl and coo at her own movements. The most involvement I can see from Duke is that he’s keeping his hands in place and letting her use his dick for her own pleasure. She tosses her head back as one of her fingers finds her center and makes small, fast circles. Her skin breaks out in goose bumps at the exact moment that I think I’m going to be sick. My stomach rolls in disgust—not at the act itself, but in jealousy. A little over a month ago that was me straddling Duke’s lap. It was me mewling and yearning for more from him. It was me trying to tell myself that fucking Duke really was just fucking and it didn’t mean anything. But then he left and he didn’t really come back. A week-long trip across the country and he was back in town, but he wasn’t back here—not with me at least.
After he’d claimed me in his room, I decided that I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. I wasn’t going to be one of those stupid bitches who got all sad and weepy over the fucked up shit these guys do. I know it as well now as I did the first time I attended a party here—Lost Girls are club whores. We show up to fuck, and to have fun with, but at the end of the night the guys still go home to their wives and girlfriends. After they leave here they check and make sure their kids are tucked into bed, and they might even make love to their wives. We’re the entertainment, and they’re the commitment.
And it isn’t until this moment that I realize how entirely fucked it was to sleep with Duke. And it’s here in this moment that I promise myself to never be this stupid again. So I stand here and I watch. I watch as Duke reaches behind her back and grabs her by the hair, yanking her head backward. I watch as he tells her to stop going slow and to get with the program. She makes a sound of displeasure, but I doubt he gives a shit. She’s no better than cattle in this moment. And neither am I.
So, I decide I’m done after tonight.
Duke grips Dawn’s hips firmly and roughly slams her down onto him. Her eyes fly open and she catches my gaze. I want to turn and run. I want to flee before he realizes I’m here, too. But he doesn’t notice. Instead, he keeps ramming into her again and again. Sweat starts at her hairline and drips down her face, onto her breasts, and even onto his stomach. She holds on as best she can as he pummels her hard and unrelenting. She keeps her eyes on me, and I think she might enjoy the attention I’m giving her. Every time her mouth makes this little “O” shape, I feel it in my gut. It churns around in there, looking for a home, and eventually settles in and hardens my heart. Slowly but surely, I can feel my emotions shutting down until all I feel is the air conditioning as it kicks on. When the pain subsides and I’m no longer teaching myself a lesson, I decide that I’ve seen enough.
As I turn and walk away, leaving Duke with his whore and Dawn with her bastard, I don’t feel an ounce of regret or sadness. I just feel empty.
Chapter 7
HALFWAY THROUGH THE main room of the clubhouse, I catch Diesel’s eye. He’s at a table with some chick on his lap. Everything looks kind of fuzzy and all over the place. I scrunch my eyes together to keep the gut-wrenching disappointment from showing on my face. But it’s too late. Diesel’s seen something and he’s honed in on me. He pats the chick’s ass and gives her a push off his lap and strides over to me.
In the back of my head I’m telling myself to move and leave—just get the fuck out—but my feet don’t make the attempt. Maybe I’m tired of being chased, or maybe I know better than to run from Diesel. It’s not like there’s anything he could possibly do to me that’s worse than anything else I’ve experienced today.
Today is, officially, the worst day of my life.
There won’t be another day that’s this bad, I swear it. Because I won’t let anything else ever hurt like this. I refuse. I flat out fucking refuse to let anyone else have this kind of power over me. I did so well for so long—keeping people at bay—but then this. I gave him a chance and this is what happens.
“You’re being weird,” Diesel says as he grips my hips. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie. His lips form a thin line, and he lowers his shaved head to meet my eyes.
“I know what Ryan did,” he says, and I tense up. Just because I stood there and watched the entire act doesn’t mean I want to relive it right now. I can see the shape of Dawn’s pouty lips as they form that “O” as she slides down Duke’s dick. That’s one image I don’t think is ever going to go away.
“It’s nothing,” I say, but still he doesn’t budge.
“If it’s something to you, it’s something. Come on,” Diesel says. He
places his hand on my lower back and guides me down the hall toward one of the spare bedrooms. Since Diesel doesn’t have an officer position within the club, he doesn’t have his own room here. Not that it matters—all of the rooms are in need of a serious cleaning. I walk compliantly into the room. It doesn’t even matter what Diesel has to say or wants to do. I don’t know that I can feel any worse than I do right now.
The spare room is identical in size to Duke’s and has close to the same furniture—bed, side table, and a dresser. I crawl onto the bed and curl into the corner, grabbing one of the two pillows and hugging it. Diesel shuts the door and walks over. He sits down on the edge of the bed and clasps his hands together. His voice is deep when he coughs, likely clearing his lungs from toking up on the bong. He reeks of weed. “What happened?” he asks.
“You don’t want to know,” I say. The truth is that Diesel never asks questions he doesn’t want an answer to, so if he’s asking me what happened, he actually gives a shit. I blow out a breath and hug the pillow tighter, like maybe if I keep squeezing, it’ll provide some kind of comfort. It doesn’t.
“Tell me,” he says. I could ask him to leave me alone to let me cry it out, but I don’t want to shed a single tear over that bastard. I give myself a moment to collect my thoughts before I speak.
“Duke’s in the game room with Dawn,” I say. Taking a few more deep breaths, I clear my head and just spill it all like this huge, tattooed, muscled man with the shaved head is Chel and we’re out to breakfast talking shit. “He fucked me and claimed me, and that was months ago. So I did as I was supposed to do and I stayed away from the club, but that crap this morning at my work? Then the crap this afternoon. I just… I’m done. And after every awful, horrible, fucked up, mean thing he did I still came here looking for him.”
“Dick,” Diesel says with a nod of his head. He turns toward me and scratches behind his neck. I let out a frustrated laugh and let my arms flutter into the air.
“You’re preaching to the choir,” I say. “I just... I don’t get it.”
“This one of those things where you just want to bitch about shit, or you want it fixed?” he asks.
“Fixed, but I got a feeling I’m not going to like your proposed solution,” I admit.
“No, you won’t,” he says. “But at least you’ll have an idea what you’re looking at if you stay with him.”
“I’m not staying with him,” I say. Giving the pillow a punch, I look up at Diesel. He wears a flat expression on his face.
“Who you bullshitting?” he asks. “You know how this shit works, babe. He’s Forsaken. You didn’t pick him, he picked you. Sorry you don’t like it. So pick another club, fuckin’ hook your ass up with a civilian. We both know that won’t work out.”
“And if I don’t want to be with him?”
“You want my help or not? Lie to whoever the fuck you want, but not the guy who gave up freaky pussy to sit here and listen to you bitch about your fucking relationship.” Silence falls between us, and I let myself stare off into space. I need a few minutes to chill. Diesel’s right. I may not like what he’s saying, but that doesn’t make it any less true. And he’s no Duke. There’s only so much I can get away with with him, so instead of pushing it like I want to, I just let the room get silent.
“Rolled your eyes at him this morning, then said whatever when he gave you an order. Not good. Thing is, you didn’t start partying with the club not knowing the score. Not like this was an accident for you. You’ve got this club in your blood.”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this,” I say in almost a plea. This doesn’t feel like helping. This feels like a damn lecture. I’m not an obstinate child who needs to be reprimanded.
“Way you two handle your shit in private is up to you, but you cop that kind of attitude in public and the boys will never vote you in. It’s just the truth. We got rules for a reason, Nic. Can’t go about breaking them, no matter whose kid you are.”
“I feel like I can’t breathe,” I say, because that’s what it feels like—him telling me I can’t have my voice. Beyond hate, I loathe the message he’s trying to get across. “He just…”
“Only way this club works is for everybody to be on the same page. Why do you think we vote on a brother’s Old Lady? Because you being my brother’s girl is a big fucking deal. Means you’re not just his responsibility, you’re mine. Somebody fucks with you, they fuck with me. They fuck with all of us. Can’t take that shit lightly.”
“I get that,” I say quietly.
“Do you?” he says. “Being the club’s responsibility means that shit goes down and we put our asses on the line for you. Our wives, kids, our mothers—they take a step back if you’re in trouble if we vote you in. You get that? That means I’d die for you.”
“Wow,” I say and then huff. “You’re good at spinning a situation, aren’t you?”
“No spin, promise,” he says. “Straight up fact. That kind of commitment? Deserves a little more respect.”
“Two months, Diesel. Two months,” I respond flatly.
“That was fucked, no doubt. He needed his asshole ripped the fuck apart over that,” he says. For just a moment, I think he’s on my side, but then he says, “Privately. Don’t care that he was being a dick. That wasn’t cool, girl. Made his dick feel fuckin’ tiny, no doubt.”
“I know what the club is and what it’s not. I’m not dumb, but everything else?” I ask. Because as much as I can’t believe I’m admitting it to myself, I know the rules, and I broke them. But Duke can still go to hell. I don’t care what rules I broke. I’m supposed to be his, and he’s in another room with somebody else. “It’s wrong.”
“Yeah,” Diesel says, “it is.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts slapping his thumbs against the screen. I sit in silence, unsure if it’ll tick him off if I speak. “The shit we do requires us to be assholes. Can’t always turn it off just because we should.”
“I appreciate you coming in here to talk to me, but I feel like the biggest fool on the planet, and this feels like a lecture,” I say. He lowers his phone and stares at me, his expression still makes him look bored as all hell.
“You want to be Duke’s Old Lady or not?” he says. The question makes me freeze. I don’t know. It’s not something I want to think about right now. With every fucked thing that’s happened today, I ‘d rather stick a fork in my eye than to relive it all. Going for noncommittal, I shrug my shoulders.
“No really—turned down some freaky as fuck pussy—don’t shrug your fucking shoulders,” he says with a slight grumble.
“I don’t know that I can get over the shit he just pulled,” I say.
“But before that?” he asks. Before that everything was still fucked up. I told him he wasn’t going to touch me again, and then I left. And before I flipped out on him? It was only this morning, but it feels like it was days ago, at least—and things weren’t exactly rosy then, either. He came in with both barrels, caught me off guard, and was a real jerk. Still, he’s funny and when he tries, he can be sweet. And I know he’s always doing things for his mom even though he doesn’t want to. That’s got to mean something.
“Yeah,” I say, “I do—or I did.”
Diesel cracks an arrogant smile and says, “You sure? You hook up with him, you can’t ride my dick no more.”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m okay with that,” I mumble, feeling my face heat.
Diesel just keeps on smirking and says, “He’s an asshole, no doubt. But you think you can be an Old Lady? That means you gotta remember that everything you do blows back on him, and everything he does represents you. Gotta respect each other in public. That’s all.”
“I know the code, D. That’s not the problem,” I say. I can feel myself getting more frustrated with him as time goes by. “He claimed me—twice—and then fucked another woman. In front of me.”
“Told you, not cool. But you do right and demand he does better. All yo
u can do,” he says. I look down at the pillow in my lap, and a yawn escapes me. My body feels so heavy and rundown that once I stop really listening to anything Diesel’s saying, all I want to do is sleep.
“Lay down and take a nap,” he says. “I’ll stay and make sure nobody tries to come in.” I’m not sure where this side of him came from, but I could really get used to it. I won’t let myself think it’ll last, though. I close my eyes and lie down on my side, propping my head on the pillow as I let sleep consume me.
Chapter 8
THE CAR RADIO crackles under the pressure to blast the new punk band that Jeremy insists on listening to at an epically high volume. My head pounds with the drum beat until I can’t take it anymore, and I reach over and turn the volume down until I hear the click of it turning off.
After seeing Duke and Dawn last night, I may have wallowed in my sorrows a bit too long. Even though I kept telling myself that it wasn’t getting to me, I couldn’t help that it was.
“What the fuck?” he asks, irritation evident in his tone.
“It was too loud,” I say and use my free hand to rub my temple.
“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re just being a bitch today.” I bite my tongue to keep from responding. If I had a retort for every single one of his snide remarks, our entire lives would be one big fucking argument, and quite frankly, I just don’t think it’s worth it.
He reaches over and turns the dial back up, this time even louder. One fucking trip to the grocery store that he insists on going on and we can’t even have a peaceful trip. This shit is ridiculous. Five months, I remind myself once again. Just five months until he’s legal. Then I can slap the shit out of him without child protective services crawling up my ass for it. Not that I have the size or power to hurt him, and not that I want to, but right now I’m thinking about it. I’m thinking about it a lot. A lot.
I have work later today, but need to get the grocery shopping done beforehand because, in Jeremy’s words, “We ain’t got shit” to eat, and he’s a hell of a lot more pleasant when he can make his pancakes for breakfast—which is part of the current problem. He didn’t get his pancakes this morning because he eats like a damn trucker and blew through the family sized box in under a week.