Thrash (26 page)

“
What have you heard?” I
ask, leaning in. I may not have many friends, but I know better
than to pass up the chance to get a little dirt on what the club
thinks is happening with me and Duke. Quite frankly, it might help
me sort out my own head. I’m so into finding out what Alex has to
say that I barely hear the heavy boots on the hardwood floor as
they near the bedroom.

“
You ladies talking about
me?” Duke appears in the doorway, making me jump halfway to the
ceiling. A smirk appears on his face as he nods at me.

Alex purses her lips and smiles big at
Duke. She says, “Word on the street is you’re wifed-up.”

Duke nods and grins, saying, “I got me
an Old Lady, and you got yourself a prick.” Alex scowls at his
comment, but Duke just looks to me with an apologetic smile on his
face, saying, “Sorry, babe. We gotta go.”

My face heats, and I scramble off the
bed. Despite having enjoyed my time with Alex, my brain isn’t in
the best place to gossip about relationships right now.

“
I’m glad you’re okay,” I
turn to Alex and say.

“
Visit me?” she asks.
Begrudgingly, I nod and allow Duke to lead me out of the room.
Maybe my next visit I’ll even say hi to Ruby and Jim.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and when
I check to see why, there’s a new text waiting for me from Darren.
WHERE ARE YOU, it reads. I send a quick text back saying HAVE 2
CANCEL. GONNA LET CLUB TK CARE OF DAD. BUT THNX.

Chapter 20

Duke climbs onto his bike and I follow.
From the front door, Ryan and Jim storm out and head for their
bikes. We get comfortable, affix our helmets to our heads, and Duke
starts her up. I wrap my arms around Duke’s waist and hold on tight
as he peels off down the driveway and then onto Sherwood Road. I
wait until we make it to the clubhouse and I’m climbing off the
bike to ask why we left early.

“
Club vote about Chief.
Sorry, baby,” he says. I nod and take a deep breath before removing
my helmet.

“
Everything okay?” I
ask.

“
Like it when you ask
questions,” he says. He’s smiling so wide that I think his cheeks
have got to be hurting, and his eyes have a slight twinkle to them.
He looks happy. He climbs off the bike and wraps an arm around my
shoulders and pulls me into him. And as we stand here, in the
Forsaken clubhouse’s parking lot, I feel happy. If even for a
moment, this feels good and right. And I want to believe beyond all
doubts that I won’t lose this. I know Duke wants me, but would he
want us?

Things are going so well between us.
Just looking at his face with that big, stupid grin, I think
there’s hope for us yet. We do a lot of eating and some cooking—on
his part, not mine—and there’s some TV watching. There’s even a lot
of fighting over the sink in the morning to brush our teeth, and
there’s wall sex, and even kitchen sex. That’s what we mostly do.
We bitch at each other and then have sex. We fight and then we have
sex. Duke eats and then we have sex. There’s even a good bit of
crawling into bed together, there’s spooning, and there’s waking up
together. Even the mornings he has to wake up before me, there’s
morning sex. And the mornings he gets to sleep in, but I have to
work, there’s usually shower sex before he crawls back into bed wet
and tired to sleep awhile longer. But that’s when he’s home, which
he hasn’t been a whole lot of lately. And we’re good and solid. No
spinning. This could work. It could.

“
We should talk,” I say,
because if I don’t talk to him about this I’m going to burst. I’m
trying so hard to stay normal and keep a level head, but it’s
almost impossible. I refuse to let myself feel excited over this,
especially because I have no idea why I’d be excited over this—it
was unplanned and we’re so unprepared. I might never be
prepared.

“
Can’t,” he says. “Nothing
good comes from those words. Only bad shit happens when a chick
wants to talk, and I got club shit to deal with. I got mob shit to
deal with. I got your difficult ass to deal with. I got your
fucking brother to deal with—kind of hate that kid, babe—and I
can’t deal with anything else. So no, we do not got to
talk.”

“
You’re swamped, I get it.
But we still need to talk,” I hiss. It’s bad timing, and I get
that. But I’d rather tell him before he figures it out on his own,
and I don’t even know how long I have until that
happens.

“
We ain’t talkin’,” he
says.

“
You’ll fuck me, just not
talk to me,” I snap. I’m being argumentative and I know it. Begging
for him to listen to me about something I’d rather not have to talk
to him about anyway is setting me off. Everything is always on his
terms, never on mine. And the times I think it’s on my terms are
only because he doesn’t give a crap about it and therefore lets it
be on my terms.

“
Time to shut your mouth,
Nicole,” he grits out and folds his arms over his chest as he eyes
his brothers, who are pulling up on their bikes. I roll my eyes and
shake my head.

“
I don’t know who you
think you are, telling me when I need to shut my mouth,” I yell
back and turn to walk into the clubhouse for some peace and quiet
in his room while he takes care of his business. I barely make it
two feet before he’s grabs my arm and spins me around to face him.
His right hand clutches at the back of my neck, and tilts it back,
forcing me to face him. His left holds me tight against his
muscular frame. He’s such a prick in front of the club. When we’re
alone he’s all sweet and kind. But here, he’s a total
asshole.

“
You know who I am, baby,”
he hisses just inches from my face. His overgrown beard tickles at
my neck, and his breath—a mix of orange juice and maple
syrup—washes over my face. He’s got a major sweet tooth, which has
allowed him and Jeremy to bond over morning pancakes. Despite his
assertion that he hates my brother, they’ve been getting closer as
the weeks progress.

Leaning in, he blocks my view of
everything that isn’t him. “I’m your man, and you’re my woman. And
you need to get this and get it now because I won’t be repeating
myself—here at the clubhouse, you’re to be seen and not heard. You
need to learn to chill and not be in my face like you
like.”

He releases me with such force I wobble
back a step before righting myself again. Beneath the bubbling
anger is that ever present pit of sorrow that threatens to engulf
me.

Duke stalks into the clubhouse and
slams the door behind him. The sound of metal on metal thrashing
together violently makes me jump. I close my eyes and gift myself a
moment of silence. All this shit that’s going on with the club and
Alex is already weighing on him enough. He doesn’t need my shit,
too. The way he held me in place and refused to let me go until he
was good and ready shook me up. It was like he was taking
possession of me, as though I was nothing more than a silly
plaything that refused to work properly.

I work extra hard to keep my composure
as I slink into the brightly-lit clubhouse after Duke. His heavy
boots carry him through the main room then down the side hallway
and into the chapel. He doesn’t look back or miss a beat as he
walks through the open chapel doors and slams them behind him. The
Lost Girls, Old Ladies, and family members of the club, who fill
the crowded room, collectively stop what they’re doing to look at
the doors of the chapel. Slowly, their eyes drift to me. The Old
Ladies look at me curiously. They’re all here with the exception of
Ruby—and maybe Alex now, too. Even Chief’s wife, Barbara, is
here.

Not many of the Fort Bragg Forsaken
have Old Ladies. They’re mostly young guys with strong appetites
who aren’t ready to settle down. It’s been a running joke for years
with the younger guys that once a brother is ready to settle down
that means he has to find a new charter because he’s too damn old
to take care of business properly. It’s what they said to Bear when
he knocked up his girl and then married her two kids later. It’s
also what they said to Diesel back when that shit went south with
Julie, but that didn’t work out so well for them. Even Jim talks
about how the club never thought he’d turn into such a pussy, but
then he met Ruby. If there’s one thing these guys can agree upon,
it’s this: family is the core of everything worth
having.

I check out the tables around me and
find that they’re all full with various boxes and decorations.
Black toile spills out of one box, and dark red satin is falling
out of another. Other tables are littered with magazines and empty
beer bottles and even a bong. At one table in the corner are Chel
and Dawn—neither of whom I’m up for talking to right now. Chel
catches my eye and gives me a sad smile. She’s not been doing so
well since Chief died. I never really got it, but she and Chief had
a thing that wasn’t as much sexual as it was spiritual. Still, he
loved his wife and she’s always been loving to me. I give Chel a
small smile and cross the room to express my condolences to
Barbara, who is seated between Layla and Mary. Layla looks as
fucked up as ever. Her hands scratch at her jeans, and she’s
twitching slightly, which must be making Grady mad as hell. No
matter how good Grady is to that woman, she just can’t get her shit
together.

Mary, Fish’s long-time girlfriend,
stands up first. She sets down the catalog she’s been looking
through and bridges the distance between us. She reaches out and
gives me a quick hug that’s tolerable enough and says, “Hey
girl.”

Pulling back, Mary makes room for
Barbara to stand and take a step toward me. Barbara and Chief have
been together for years, and even though she knew he wasn’t
faithful, she’s loved him with everything she has since the day she
climbed onto the back of his bike. In his own way, he loved her
just as much. Her face twists as she sets her eyes on me. Her chin
trembles, and she shakes her head. For the first time in years, I
find myself rushing at someone to wrap my arms around them. As I
grab a hold of Barbara and pull her into me, I suddenly feel the
weight of her grief and the club’s loss. It’s not until this moment
that it really hits me. My throat is so dry and my eyes water, but
I fight it off, gulp down the whimper that nearly escapes me, and
suck it up so I can focus on Barbara. She lets her body sink into
mine as her hands clutch into my back and dig in painfully. I bite
my lower lip to keep from vocalizing my struggle to keep from
crying out in discomfort.

“
Shit,” she says and
slowly pulls back. She’s at least a good six inches taller than me
and has a broader frame, but she wears it well. Her black hair is a
mess atop her head, and for the first time in years, I’m seeing her
without makeup. Wiping her eyes and sniffling, she gives out a
frustrated laugh.

“
I’m sorry I didn’t reach
out to you sooner,” I say. When Dad went to jail, Barbara was all
over me and Jeremy. If Ruby and Jim hadn’t taken us in, she and
Chief would have. She never hesitated to step into the role of
mother when I needed one after my own bailed. Not that I ever
really thanked her for it. Guilt swims in my belly, making me
uncomfortable in her presence. She shakes her head.

“
I was such a mess. I
wouldn’t have known it even if you’d tried to reach out,” she
says.

“
Is there anything I can
do?” I ask. Barbara’s eyes slide over my shoulder to the table in
the corner that houses the only other Lost Girls in the room—Chel
and Dawn. Her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow at me. For a brief
second I think she’s going to chew me out. Barbara has never made a
secret of how she feels about the women who hang around the club.
She had a few cautionary words for me the first time she showed up
at the clubhouse and saw me with Torque, one of the club members
who has been locked up for the last year.

“
I’d kind of like it if it
was just family here,” she says and wipes her damp hands on her
jeans. My face heats and I nod.

“
I’m sorry I interrupted.”
I put my hands up and give her an apologetic smile. I move to step
away from the table when she reaches out and grabs my hand. My eyes
fly up to hers, and she shakes her head.

“
Not you, baby,” she says.
Her eyes slide over my shoulder to the corner where Chel and Dawn
sit, and she hisses, “Them.” My jaw goes slack, and I fight to make
a sound. My brain is fighting the good fight, trying to tell her
that I’m one of them and that even though I’m more selective than
either of them is, I’m still a Lost Girl. But God help me, I like
this. I like the way she’s treating me like I’m family, and I like
the way that makes me feel. For the first time in a long time, I
feel like I’m part of something.

“
Um, are you sure—about me
staying?”

“
My feelings would be hurt
if you didn’t,” she says sternly. I bite back a smile and lift my
chin.

“
I’ll, uh, ask the girls
if they can make a beer run or something,” I say. Turning around
and making my way across the room, I have to take several deep
breaths to calm myself down. The sideways glances both Chel and
Dawn are giving me make me want to go to Duke’s room and hide in
there until he can take me home. But I go anyway, because this
isn’t about me no matter how much I want to make it about
me.

“
What’s going on with The
Hive?” Chel asks, referring to the three Old Ladies across the
room. I look down and shove my hands in my pockets. We Lost Girls
have always considered the Old Ladies like a hive of bees. Ruby’s
the queen, and the rest of them buzz around making sure she’s happy
and having her back when she’s not. It’s the reason that, contrary
to popular belief, Ruby is the most powerful person in this town.
Because if she’s not happy and Jim doesn’t fix it, then she tells
her girls about it and then each one of them will tell their Old
Man about it. Then when the brothers are sick and fucking tired of
hearing about it, Jim finally does something about it.