Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
"Welcome to Whiskey River!" Meadow shouts as we pour out of the party bus like a glittering avalanche of leather, denim, and attitude. The bouncer, a burly man with Devil Souls patches who clearly knows exactly who we are, nods respectfully and waves us past the line.
Inside, the bar thrums with energy, strobe lights sweeping across the dance floor where bodies move in rhythm to the pounding bass. I feel a moment of self-consciousness as several heads turn to watch our group enter, but Tiana hooks her arm through mine.
"Own it," she whispers. "They're staring because we're goddamn queens."
Meadow leads us to a reserved section near the dance floor, complete with "RESERVED" signs and a waitress already approaching with trays of drinks.
I settle for a virgin mojito while the others knock back shots and cocktails, toasting everything from "Hot MC men" to "Freedom from prospect babysitters. "
"Come on!" Elle grabs my hand, tugging me toward the dance floor. "This is my song!"
Soon we're all dancing, a circle of laughing women letting loose without worrying about club politics or responsibilities.
I find myself sandwiched between Tiana and Meadow, all three of us moving in sync to a song with a throbbing beat.
The tension I didn't even realize I was carrying melts away as I lose myself in the music.
"Somebody's watching you," Meadow says in my ear, nodding toward the bar.
I follow her gaze to see a group of women staring in our direction, their expressions a mix of disdain and fascination.
With a jolt, I recognize them. Bethany Collins and her friends from high school.
They were a couple of grades above me, the same girls who used to whisper "biker trash" when I walked past.
"Ignore them," I tell Meadow, turning my back. "Not worth the energy."
But the universe has other plans. As we make our way back to our table for a drink break, Bethany and her friends intercept us, their perfectly highlighted hair and designer outfits a stark contrast to our edgier style.
"Well, look who's back in town," Bethany drawls, her smile sharp as broken glass. "Olivia Bennett. Couldn't hack it in the real world, huh?"
I feel Tiana stiffen beside me, but I squeeze her arm in warning. "Bethany. Still hanging around the same bars, I see. How… consistent of you."
Her smile falters, but she rallies quickly. "At least I'm not slumming it with criminals. We saw you come in with your little… biker bitch parade." She looks Meadow up and down. "Still letting your daddy's friends pass you around the clubhouse?"
Meadow's face flushes with anger, but before she can respond, Vanessa steps forward, her quiet voice deadly calm. "You might want to reconsider your next words very carefully."
"Or what?" one of Bethany's friends—Kaitlyn, I think—sneers. "You'll call your thug boyfriends to rough us up? That's all they're good for, right? Violence and intimidation."
"Actually," Rose says, sliding into the conversation with a predatory smile, "most of our men are quite skilled in other areas. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Kaitlyn? Isn't your man the one who got caught with his secretary at the Christmas party?"
Kaitlyn's face pales, but Bethany isn't backing down. "At least we have real relationships, not just being property of some gang. Nice patches, by the way. Do they brand you like cattle, or is it more of a verbal agreement that you belong to them?"
I feel something snap inside me, not anger, but a fierce pride that's been building since I came home. "You know what, Bethany? You haven't changed a bit since high school. Still so desperate to feel superior that you'll attack what you don't understand."
I step closer, keeping my voice level. "These women aren't property. They're family. They're strong, loyal, and brave in ways you couldn't begin to comprehend. And our men? They'd walk through fire for us—not because we belong to them, but because we choose each other, every single day."
Bethany's eyes narrow. "Is that what you tell yourself while you're spreading your legs for the club president? That it's a choice?"
"That's enough," Tiana snarls, moving forward, but I put a hand on her arm.
"It's okay," I say calmly. "Bethany's just jealous because the only men who want her are the ones who have to pay her tab first."
Someone in our group lets out a low whistle as Bethany's face contorts with rage. "You little—"
"Careful," Meadow interrupts, her smile diamond hard. "Think about who you're talking to. And who her family is. And who we all are." She gestures around our circle. "This isn't high school anymore, Bethany. You don't have teachers to hide behind when you start something you can't finish."
The threat isn't explicit, but it hangs in the air between us, clear as a bell.
For a moment, I see genuine fear flicker across Bethany's face as she finally realizes she's not just confronting the shy girl she used to bully, but a woman surrounded by a sisterhood forged in something stronger than her petty meanness.
"Whatever," she finally says, backing away. "Enjoy your little white trash reunion. Come on, girls."
As they retreat toward the other side of the bar, our circle closes ranks, everyone checking on each other.
"You okay?" Meadow asks me, concern evident in her eyes.
I'm surprised to find I'm smiling. "Better than okay. That felt… good, actually."
"Damn right it did," Tiana laughs, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "You handled that like a true ole lady. Greyson would be proud."
The others chime in with agreement, and soon we're back on the dance floor, the confrontation only strengthening the bonds between us. As we dance, I catch glimpses of Bethany and her friends watching us from the bar, their expressions a mix of confusion and something that might be envy.
They don't understand this life—the loyalty, the family, the absolute certainty that you're never alone. They never will. And for the first time, I don't want them to. This belongs to us, to the women who choose this path and the men who walk it with them.
As Meadow and I share a smile, I notice movement at the edge of the dance floor. Through the crowd, I catch glimpses of leather cuts weaving between bodies, not approaching directly but definitely keeping us in sight.
"Don't look now," I murmur to Meadow, "but I think we have company."
She follows my gaze and snorts. "Of course we do. Did you really think they'd let us out completely unsupervised?"
I squint in the dim light and recognize Zach, Tiana's brother, leaning against a pillar near the exit. He's trying to look casual, but his eyes constantly scan our group.
"Subtle," I say with a laugh. "Real subtle."
Tiana spots him, too, and rolls her eyes dramatically. "My brother thinks he's James Bond or something. He's been trailing us since dinner."
The party continues despite our shadows, aka security detail, and I find myself relaxing at the knowledge that we're being watched over, even from a distance. It's just part of this life, the protection that comes with the family.
As the night winds down, women start arranging rides home for those who don't want to wait for the party bus. Samantha checks her phone, and announces, "My brother's outside. He just got off his shift at the hospital and offered to drive me home."
"Xavier's here?" Cassandra perks up. "I haven't seen him in forever!"
We gather our things and follow Samantha toward the exit.
Xavier is waiting by the curb, still in scrubs under his jacket, looking exhausted but smiling when he spots his sister.
He's handsome in a clean-cut way that contrasts sharply with the MC men I've grown accustomed to—no tattoos, no leather, just kind eyes and a warm smile.
"Ladies," he greets us with a little bow that makes Samantha roll her eyes affectionately.
"Thanks for coming, X," she says, giving him a quick hug. "I know you just finished a twelve-hour shift."
"Anything for my favorite sister," he replies with a wink.
"I'm your only sister, dumbass."
As they banter, I notice Bethany and her group exiting the bar, followed by men in polo shirts and khakis who must be their husbands. They spot us immediately, and Bethany's lip curls in disgust.
"Look at that," she stage-whispers, loud enough for us to hear. "They even got the gay doctor hanging around with them now."
Xavier stiffens slightly but keeps his expression neutral. Samantha, however, whips around, fury blazing in her eyes.
"What did you just say about my brother?"
One of the men, a red-faced guy with a receding hairline, steps forward. "Your brother needs to pick better company than a bunch of biker whores."
"And maybe pick a lifestyle that's not going to send him to hell," another adds, sneering. "Bad enough we've got gangs in this town without adding those people to the mix."
Xavier places a restraining hand on Samantha's arm. "Let it go, Sam. They're not worth it."
"Listen to your fairy doctor brother." Bethany laughs nastily. "Run along home before you catch something."
I feel a presence behind me and turn to see Zach materializing from the shadows, his expression thunderous. Tiana moves to intercept him, whispering something urgent in his ear that makes him pause, though his hands remain clenched at his sides.
"You know what's funny?" I say, stepping forward before this can escalate further. "The 'fairy doctor' you're insulting just finished saving lives in the ER while you were getting drunk and making fools of yourselves."
"And he's twice the man any of you will ever be," Meadow adds, her voice dripping with contempt.
The first guy puffs up his chest. "You bitches need to learn some respect. Your kind is ruining this town with your trash."
"Our kind?" Tiana echoes dangerously. "And what kind is that, exactly?"