Chapter 9 #2
I glance around the room, noticing for the first time how all the women are either dressed in barely-there outfits or in various states of undress.
As if reading my mind, Mama Pat nods toward a blonde in a leather bra and mini skirt currently draping herself over one of the guys at the pool table. "Those are club girls. Cut sluts, some call them, though I don't care for the term."
Cut sluts. That’s what Chaos called them.
"They service the brothers. Keep them happy." She says it matter-of-factly. "It's part of the lifestyle. It doesn’t mean anything beyond physical release."
My stomach twists as I watch another scantily-clad woman—this one a redhead—whisper something in Fury's ear.
"Now, I know that probably sounds awful to you," Mama Pat continues.
"And I know that club life can sound old-fashioned, patriarchal—all the talk about women being property and obeying their men.
" She turns to look at me directly. "But don't let that deter you, baby.
Any one of these boys would lay down their life for you without a second of hesitation.
That's the flip side of being claimed. You're protected. Cherished. Valued beyond measure."
"I don't know if I can do this." The confession spills out before I can stop it. "I don't know how to be an ol' lady. I don't know the rules or the culture or—"
"You'll learn." She pats my hand again. "And you got me to help you. Plus, something tells me you're stronger than you think."
I look up, finding Chaos's eyes on me from across the room. Even from this distance, I can see the heat in his gaze. Someone—Demon, I think—says something that makes him grin, but his eyes never leave mine.
Another round of shots. How many is that? Chaos's grin gets goofier, his movements looser. He's drunk.
A woman materializes at his side. It’s Kandi with a k and an i. Her hand slides up his arm, and she presses her body against his side as she whispers something in his ear. She’s like some half-naked succubus.
Jealousy, hot and unexpected, flares in my chest.
Chaos pushes her away, but it's half-hearted. He's drunk and she's persistent, immediately pressing closer again.
"You need to go over there," Mama Pat says quietly.
"What?" I tear my gaze from the sight of Kandi's hands on Chaos's chest.
"You need to stake your claim. Show these girls that you're not gonna let anyone disrespect what's yours."
“Me?”
"I can't do it for you, baby.” Her voice is firm but kind.
“I can't—"
“Oh, yes. You can. This is a bit like the animal kingdom. You show weakness, they'll walk all over you. You show strength, they'll respect you."
I watch as Kandi presses herself against Chaos's back, her arms wrapping around his waist. He peels her hands off, but she just laughs and tries again.
Something primal rises in my chest. Mine, a voice whispers. He's mine.
"Go on." Mama Pat gives me a gentle push. "Show ‘em who you are."
My legs feel shaky as I stand, but I force myself to walk across the room. The crowd parts slightly, brothers watching with interest as I approach.
Chaos is seated on a barstool, Kandi pressed against his side. He's completely ignoring her when I arrive.
I have no idea what I'm doing. No idea how to "stake a claim" or assert dominance or any of this. I swallow hard.
Kandi shoots me a venomous look as I step between Chaos's spread thighs. His eyes widen in surprise as I press close, laying my head against his chest and wrapping my arms around his waist.
For one terrifying moment, I think I've made a mistake. That I've overstepped or misread the situation or—
His arms come around me, pulling me flush against him. One hand cradles the back of my head while the other spans my lower back.
"There's my girl," he rumbles, his voice rough with alcohol. His lips brush my temple. "Missed you, sweetheart."
"I was only across the room." My words come out muffled against his chest.
"Too far." His hand tightens on my back, possessive and warm. "Way too fucking far."
Around us, I hear whistles and catcalls. Someone—Fury, maybe—shouts something crude that makes the others laugh. But I'm too focused on the feeling of Chaos's arms around me, the solid warmth of his body, the way his heart pounds against my ear.
"Chaos." Kandi's voice is sharp. "We were talking."
"Were we?" He doesn't even look at her. His attention is completely on me, his eyes slightly unfocused but intense. "Pretty sure I was tellin’ you to fuck off."
More laughter from the surrounding brothers. I feel Kandi's glare burning into me.
"This is bullshit," she snaps, but I hear her high heels stomp off.
Chaos's hand moves to my chin, tilting my face up to his. "You came over here to let everyone know I’m yours?” His thumb traces my lower lip, sending sparks of heat through me.
"Mama Pat said I should." The admission makes me feel foolish, but his eyes light up.
"Smart woman, Mama Pat." He leans down, his breath hot against my ear. "You wanna know something, sweetheart?"
"What?" I barely breathe the word.
"Watching you walk over here, seeing you stake your claim on me?" His teeth graze my earlobe, making me shiver. "Hottest fucking thing I've ever seen."
My hands fist in his t-shirt, anchoring myself as heat floods through me. Around us, the party continues—music and laughter and the clink of bottles—but it all fades to background noise.
“Really?” I whisper. “'Cause I feel like I don't know what I'm doing.”
His grin is crooked, endearing. “We'll figure it out together."
His hand slides lower on my back, fingers squeezing my hip. Across the room, I catch Mama Pat's eye. She gives me an approving nod, and I know—somehow—that I just passed some kind of test.