make it official, then she can take Bird’s place.” But I’m still struggling to leash my arousal, and hold back the demon inside me who wants to beat his face in.
I can’t fucking focus on what it all means just yet. And I’m trying to understand why I care she’s never had sex, and why it pisses me off that if Dozer has his way, she’ll be having sex with one of my brothers in a few short days.
Get fucked by every brother in the clubhouse after that if she becomes a clubpiece.
My grip on my pencil becomes fatal, breaks and falls to the floor.
I stand. Some sort of animal is rising inside me and taking over my limbs. I’m a heartbeat away from letting it at Dozer.
God . . . What am I doing?
I internally shake myself.
She can’t stay.
For all I know, she’s been sent by the GBs or the feds, though we’ve done pretty good to stay off the FBI’s radar the last few years. Either way, she’s a problem I don’t need right now.
Dozer looks over his shoulder and speaks to Goose. “Take her out and get her a drink or something while we settle this, yeah?”
Goose tugs her out of the room. Our eyes meet. Mine with the girl’s. Her face is beautiful and her eyes are so tired. They’re pleading for help I simply can’t give. Not now. Maybe not ever.
All I have left now is the club. And I’m sorry, but I won’t give another broken girl the opportunity to poison what’s left of me and what matters in my life.
I don’t say the words I feel echoing out of my soul.
This place isn’t the place for you, Doll. I won’t be the fool who tries to fix you. I’ve already had my fair share of suicidal junkies. Maybe if I still had a heart, but mine was ripped out a long time ago. We’re ruined, you and I, and there’s no fixing what’s utterly broken.
She’s a stray and looking for a home.
But this isn’t it, Doll. This isn’t it.
When something vital to our survival is threatened . . . we shield it and guard it fiercely.
EMBER
Dozer and Mav are still shouting at each other. Their deep voices—now that Rigor has oh so kindly turned down the music—echo through the clubhouse and the main room.
I’m sitting at the bar. Alone. Because Goose took Lily away a moment ago. She was so angry she was about to burst into Mav’s office. Honestly, I’m surprised she got that worked up. I’m not entirely sure if it’s because Mav’s comments were demeaning to women in general or because they were demeaning to me.
Lil’s friend, my ass. It’s obvious that bitch has been livin’ on the street. Like she’s been diving in dumpsters. Is that what we want? Trash in our clubhouse? She’s a wet hole nothing more. She’s not even Edge’s type. Too skinny. Too short. Plain. Like a goddamn rag doll for fuck’s sake. Nothing special. We can find someone else for Edge. Someone better.
I’ve been unable to eat the sandwich and chips Rigor set in front of me. I’m starving, but the humiliation rioting through me causes my stomach to clench relentlessly and I’m afraid if I eat now, the food won’t stay down.
Bikers and the women around the room keep stealing glances at me, though some are openly staring. I sense their distrust. A few of the women look at me like I’m garbage. I feel like a pariah.
My cheeks flush with heat.
I’ve considered more than once getting up from my stool and striding right out the front door. The only thing keeping me planted in this seat is the thought of Davis, and the notion that his cruiser is parked right outside the club’s privacy fence, and his threats of what will happen if I try to make a run for it.
I peek in the mirror behind the bar and wince at my reflection. I see some validity to Mav’s insults. The girl staring back at me is a mess. She looks nothing like Lil’ Bird, or the other girls here. I’m not beautiful. I look pale. No makeup. Frizzy, wild hair. Maybe I once was something special, but I don’t look it now. He’s right. I’m too thin. I didn’t
I can’t fucking focus on what it all means just yet. And I’m trying to understand why I care she’s never had sex, and why it pisses me off that if Dozer has his way, she’ll be having sex with one of my brothers in a few short days.
Get fucked by every brother in the clubhouse after that if she becomes a clubpiece.
My grip on my pencil becomes fatal, breaks and falls to the floor.
I stand. Some sort of animal is rising inside me and taking over my limbs. I’m a heartbeat away from letting it at Dozer.
God . . . What am I doing?
I internally shake myself.
She can’t stay.
For all I know, she’s been sent by the GBs or the feds, though we’ve done pretty good to stay off the FBI’s radar the last few years. Either way, she’s a problem I don’t need right now.
Dozer looks over his shoulder and speaks to Goose. “Take her out and get her a drink or something while we settle this, yeah?”
Goose tugs her out of the room. Our eyes meet. Mine with the girl’s. Her face is beautiful and her eyes are so tired. They’re pleading for help I simply can’t give. Not now. Maybe not ever.
All I have left now is the club. And I’m sorry, but I won’t give another broken girl the opportunity to poison what’s left of me and what matters in my life.
I don’t say the words I feel echoing out of my soul.
This place isn’t the place for you, Doll. I won’t be the fool who tries to fix you. I’ve already had my fair share of suicidal junkies. Maybe if I still had a heart, but mine was ripped out a long time ago. We’re ruined, you and I, and there’s no fixing what’s utterly broken.
She’s a stray and looking for a home.
But this isn’t it, Doll. This isn’t it.
When something vital to our survival is threatened . . . we shield it and guard it fiercely.
EMBER
Dozer and Mav are still shouting at each other. Their deep voices—now that Rigor has oh so kindly turned down the music—echo through the clubhouse and the main room.
I’m sitting at the bar. Alone. Because Goose took Lily away a moment ago. She was so angry she was about to burst into Mav’s office. Honestly, I’m surprised she got that worked up. I’m not entirely sure if it’s because Mav’s comments were demeaning to women in general or because they were demeaning to me.
Lil’s friend, my ass. It’s obvious that bitch has been livin’ on the street. Like she’s been diving in dumpsters. Is that what we want? Trash in our clubhouse? She’s a wet hole nothing more. She’s not even Edge’s type. Too skinny. Too short. Plain. Like a goddamn rag doll for fuck’s sake. Nothing special. We can find someone else for Edge. Someone better.
I’ve been unable to eat the sandwich and chips Rigor set in front of me. I’m starving, but the humiliation rioting through me causes my stomach to clench relentlessly and I’m afraid if I eat now, the food won’t stay down.
Bikers and the women around the room keep stealing glances at me, though some are openly staring. I sense their distrust. A few of the women look at me like I’m garbage. I feel like a pariah.
My cheeks flush with heat.
I’ve considered more than once getting up from my stool and striding right out the front door. The only thing keeping me planted in this seat is the thought of Davis, and the notion that his cruiser is parked right outside the club’s privacy fence, and his threats of what will happen if I try to make a run for it.
I peek in the mirror behind the bar and wince at my reflection. I see some validity to Mav’s insults. The girl staring back at me is a mess. She looks nothing like Lil’ Bird, or the other girls here. I’m not beautiful. I look pale. No makeup. Frizzy, wild hair. Maybe I once was something special, but I don’t look it now. He’s right. I’m too thin. I didn’t
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