Chapter Seven
Ashes kept an eye on Miranda as she patiently worked the brush through her tangled hair. Now that it was clean, he could see she was blonde. He never would have had the patience and would have just shaved it all off, but he knew most women were far more attached to their hair than he had ever been.
It took her nearly an hour to lower her guard enough to speak to him, at least without his starting.
“Where are you taking me? What is this clubhouse you keep talking about?”
“It’s where we live, it’s our place. All of us,” Ashes said.
“All of you?”
He glanced over at her before looking back to the road. She frowned, and he couldn’t help but wonder what mental image was going through her head.
“Yeah. We all have rooms, kind of like a big motel but not really.”
“What are you going to do with me?” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t curl into the seat or try to make herself smaller. It was a small step, but it was a step.
“Feed you, get you something that fits.” He flipped the sleeve of the shirt that was at least two sizes too big on her. “Let you figure out what you want to do next. What were you going to school for?”
She stared at him with wide eyes, as if wondering how he’d known she’d been in school.
“Nursing.”
“No shit?” Ashes didn’t bother to keep the surprise out of his voice. “You want to be a nurse? Do you know what kind of nurse?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her shake her head before speaking.
“I’m not sure I can anymore,” her voice went soft and uncertain as she turned to stare out the window again.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” She didn’t bother turning away from the glass.
“Doubt yourself. If you don’t want to do it anymore, that’s one thing, but don’t be afraid to do something you want.
If you want to be a nurse, to help people like that, I’ll make sure you can get back on track.
If you find something else you’d rather do, that’s okay too.
And if you need some time to decide, I won’t push you.
You’ve been through something big.” He reached over and picked up her hand where it had been resting on her lap.
He squeezed it briefly but kept a loose hold.
“It’s okay to take time to get back on your feet.
I’ll make sure you get the time you need. ”
Ashes wanted to pull over then pull her into his arms and just hold her. His chest ached for what she must be going through.
“What will I have to do?” Miranda didn’t squeeze his hand back, but she didn’t pull away either.
“What do you mean?” Ashes frowned.
“How will I earn my keep? I’ve seen some of those biker shows. I know I’ll have to do something.”
“Tiny Warrior, all you will have to do is be. Get better. That’s it.”
She didn’t reply, but Ashes could tell she didn’t believe him. He had an idea what kind of thing she had probably seen, but he didn’t know how to reassure her. To convince her that the Sons weren’t like that, or at least not entirely.
He sighed, there were some things she should know before walking into the clubhouse, and now was as good a time as any to tell her.
“There are two kinds of women around the Sons of Sin, Miranda.” He used her name on purpose, he wanted her to know this was serious.
“The ones you’re probably thinking of we call Club Ass or Club Sluts.
They’re open game for any man in the club, or nearly every man.
They might screw Goliath tonight but be in Skate’s bed tomorrow, and no one will care. ”
She turned and watched him, her eyes wide, but when she didn’t say anything, he kept going.
“The Sluts are there because they want to be. They come and go as they please and they fuck because they want to. They have the right to say no to anyone they want, though if they do it too often, they might not be let back in the gate.” He lifted his shoulder and let it fall.
“I thought you said they were free to come and go?”
“They are, but we’re also free to refuse them access.”
“You said two kinds of women?” Miranda prompted.
“I did. The other are the old ladies.”
“Old ladies? Is that your moms?”
Ashes couldn’t help it. He laughed, hard. He usually tried not to react to anything, at least not in a big or obvious way, but she’d surprised him so much he’d been unable to contain it.
“Moms? No,” he said when he’d been able to regain control of his laughter. “And I’d love to be a fly on the wall if you even suggest that to Winter. She’s our only old lady right now.”
“If she’s not someone’s mom, who is she? Someone’s wife?”
Ashes bobbed his head from side to side as he considered how to reply. “Yes and no. Winter is Bishop’s old lady. Which to us is the same as them being married, but it’s not legal. There’s been no ceremony and no government would recognize the union.”
“Us?”
“Sons of Sin Motorcycle Club. Well, all clubs really, but not all of them have the same standards.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some clubs, ‘old lady’ is less binding. It may or may not mean exclusivity.” He glanced over to see how she was taking this.
“It’s not that way with the Sons. If a man has an old lady, he leaves the sluts alone, unless his old lady is involved.
” He glanced at her again. Miranda’s face had turned pink but she didn’t look horrified. That was something.
“But, I’m not an old lady and I don’t want to be a slut. Where does that leave me? I’m not either of those.”
“There’s another kind of person who spends time around the Sons, and Winter started out that way, kind of. Winter was the princess of an allied club looking for help.”
“Princess?” Miranda straightened in her seat, clearly interested.
“The daughter of a brother, or in her case, the president. She calls herself a patchling. I’d never heard the term, but it got me thinking.
Patchling isn’t a bad term, but I’m leaning toward something else for the Sons to call their kids.
” He was going to keep it to himself until he had a chance to use it.
That could be years, but with the way Winter and Bishop were all over each other, he didn’t think he’d have to wait that long to refer to a child as Sin Spawn.
“What?”
He shook his head. “I’m keeping it to myself for now.”
“Why?” she asked with a frown.
“Because I don’t want it leaked. I want to casually drop it in conversation and watch everyone’s reaction.” He chuckled.
“You like to stir shit, don’t you?”
“Sometimes. I don’t do it to be malicious, just to have a little fun.
” He squeezed the hand he still held. “Don’t get me wrong, Tiny Warrior.
I can be fierce when I need to be. I can protect you from anything that comes, but I do my best not to hurt my family, if I can help it.
” He took a deep breath, bit his lip, and knew it was time to bring this up.
“When we get to the clubhouse, my president is going to want to know what happened. I’m sure he’s going to ask what happened and anything you can tell us about what that fucker did to you and if he told you what his plans were.
I haven’t asked because I don’t want you to have to go through it twice, but you should be prepared.
He will ask for way more than what Doc wanted to know earlier.
There may be several people there, I don’t know who he’ll want present. ”
He glanced over and saw the apprehension on her face.
“They won’t hurt you. That shithead can never hurt you again. I promise that. But they’ll need to know everything you do, got me?” He squeezed her hand again.
She didn’t say anything but turned to stare out the window, her hand clutching his like it was a lifeline.