Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
AMES
Rattler locking me in this room isn’t making me think more fondly of him.
I certainly haven’t changed my mind about wanting to leave.
Though some of the things he’d thrown at me had been percolating in my head.
Foremost, that the danger hadn’t ended with Malachi.
It’s possible Rodion Volkov apparently thinks he has a right to me, or rather the money that will come to me when I’m twenty-five.
I hadn’t meant it when I’d told Rattler that I’d maybe consider him if he was a good-looking guy.
I want to make my own choice about who I end up with, and not have it decided for me.
Biting my lip, I remind myself, isn’t that exactly the situation I’m in now?
I was told I had to marry Rattler for protection, and I didn’t even like him at first. But things had changed.
For a while I’d convinced myself that I’d fallen in love.
My hands clench into fists. Why is my brain so much more sensible than my heart? I try to ignore the ache in it when I think of leaving Rattler in my past. I’d started to have hopes and dreams, but they were a mirage. Something I persuaded myself I could see, when they had no real substance.
A key turns in the lock. I immediately stand, forcing myself to remember nothing’s changed since I saw him last. And, unless he’s returned with money, and hopefully my clothes and purse, I’ll take advantage of his weakness and put him on his ass.
But as I watch the door open, it’s not him who appears. It’s someone who I’d hoped I’d be able to leave and never see again.
Has she come to kick me out of this room? It’s hers and Freak’s after all. Which could fall into my plans, how could I stay when there was no place for me here?
She doesn’t immediately enter, instead she turns and argues with the man behind her. “Don’t you dare fucking lock me in, Dee.” She holds out her hand. “Give me the key. I’ll stay here, but I won’t be forced to.”
“You know I can’t, Trix.” Though I can’t see him, Dee sounds contrite. “I got my orders and I’ve got to carry them out.”
She huffs in exasperation. “I get it, you want your patch.”
“Please, Trix, I’m sure Freak will come to his senses and come let you out after his meeting.”
“I could bloody your nose,” she threatens.
He simply agrees. “You could, but it won’t change anything.”
Her chest expands as she draws in a deep breath. “Fine. But you stand outside this door in case I need anything.”
The voice of the man she’s been speaking to lightens at her capitulation. “I can do that.”
With a huff she steps inside, the door closes behind her, and that snick of the lock sounds again. Leaning her back against the wood behind her, she stares me in the eyes. Her face is pinched, and her lips are compressed.
Well, this is fucking awkward. I do not want to be faced with one of the whores who’d bedded my man, even if she didn’t get any satisfaction from it.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“It’s my room.” Her face doesn’t soften, if anything it gets harder. “And I’m here, locked in, waiting for Freak because your man, the one that you blabbed to, told me I was a good-for-nothing whore in front of him.”
I’d told Rattler nothing but the truth. I can’t feel any sympathy for her, so I shrug.
She walks over to the opposite side of the room and sits in a chair. Kicking her legs out, and toeing off her shoes, she makes herself at home. I can’t argue she’s not entitled to. I’m the interloper, not her.
“I wanted to leave.” I don’t want her to think I’m here out of choice. “Rattler disagreed.”
She looks down her nose at me. “Figured that. Seeing as the prospect had to unlock the door to get in.” For a moment, there’s an awkward silence between us. It’s her who breaks it. “Word of advice, when Rattler returns you better get Bronwyn to look at him. Freak hit him pretty damn hard.”
“When Rattler returns I’m out of here,” I retort. Then her words settle into my mind. “And why the hell did Freak hit him?”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe because Rat reminded him I was a whore?”
I jiggle my shoulders. Why should I care? “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Sighing heavily, she shakes her head. “You’ve no fucking idea how much damage you’ve done, do you?”
I purse my lips, and feel crease lines on my brow. “He didn’t know?”
Snorting, she tells me, “Oh, he knows all right. It was why it took him five fucking years to admit he had feelings for me. If it hadn’t been for Ace, reminding him men who fucked whores aren’t exactly perfect, he’d have never pulled his head out of his ass.”
I give a little shake of my head. “Who’s Ace?”
“Ace is Freak’s, our son. I adopted him.”
Oh. I give another shrug, that means nothing to me. “So nothing’s changed,” I point out. “He knew, yet he still married you.”
Again she draws in a deep breath, as if I’m testing her patience. “Perhaps he didn’t want it thrown in his face. And, especially not by your man.”
“Rattler’s not mine,” I growl. “We’re getting an annulment.”
Her eyes open wide. “For fuck’s sake, why?
Hell, girl, even I could see you’ve fallen head over heels for him.
” She shakes her head. “I might not understand why, but you obviously saw something that we’d all missed.
” She pauses a moment to think, then huffs a mirthless laugh.
“You really tell him you were leaving him?” At the small nod of my head, she carries on, “So that’s why he came down all guns blazing.
Christ, this is all fucked up,” she moans, drawing her hands down her cheeks.
“You all told me what he was like,” I cry out. “How could I stay with him knowing he’d treat me like that?”
She looks up and narrows her eyes. “Let’s set the record straight. I said nothing. As far as I recall, it was Star who implicated me. I’d never have told you anything like that. And the girls had no right to open their mouths.”
I push myself off the wall that I’d been leaning against. “I deserved to know.” My hands fist at my sides.
“Girl, you make me feel old.” Trixie leans back in her chair, steeples her hands and looks over the top of them.
“Don’t patronise me,” I snap.
She raises her eyes to the ceiling, then looks back down. “You want me to try to explain shit to you, or do you just want to wallow in your own misery?”
Do I want to listen to anything she has to say? I’m undecided.
She chuckles softly, and waves at the door.
“Look, I’ll just talk, yeah? We’re not exactly going anywhere.
Whether or not you pay attention to me, is up to you.
” She stands, goes to the wardrobe, and reaches up to the top shelf.
When she brings her hand down, she’s got a bottle of vodka in it.
Opening the liquor, she takes a swig, grimaces, then holds it out. “It’s not a margarita, but it works.”
Moving over to her side of the room, I take the bottle, attempt a small swallow, then splutter. “That’s strong.”
“It should be.” She takes the drink back from me, and gestures to the chair beside hers.
“It’s ninety-five percent proof.” After sampling the contents again, she places the bottle on the table between us.
“Help yourself.” Then she crosses one leg over the other, and settles in.
“A lot of MCs have club whores like ours. They’re considered a necessary evil.
The one-percenter life is dangerous.” As she catches the look in my eyes, she explains, “Take riding on two wheels instead of four for a start. There’s no steel cage between you and the road, and a good reason why medics call them donor cycles.
But the ride is exhilarating, it’s pure freedom.
You see the world in different ways when there’s pavement beneath your wheels.
” Her eyes glaze for a moment as if she’s reliving the pleasure.
“Bikers ride free, and live free. They don’t give a shit about citizen rules and have their own code that they live by.
Law enforcement hates us, even if we don’t step out of line.
And many others envy the life we have and try to bring us down.
Death by the road, being jailed for no reasons other than LEOs are jealous of their lives, or being shot by their enemies is the risk bikers take every day. ”
I butt in. “I think you’re just convincing me that this life isn’t for me.”
“No?” She casually asks. “Where would you be if the club hadn’t stepped in and offered you protection? Would you still be alive if they hadn’t done everything they could to protect you?” Sitting forward, she asks, “Why didn’t you go to the police when you knew Malachi was threatening you?”
“They wouldn’t have believed me. He’d have said I was making it up.”
She nods, and grimaces. “Who believed you, Ames? Who went out of their way to make sure you were safe?”
I don’t even need to answer. It’s simple. It was this club. I shift awkwardly and to cover my silence, take another sip of the vodka that’s growing on me.
“So,” she settles back again and continues, “being a biker has its own thrills. Each man who patches in vows he’d give his life for the club and his brothers.
They know they might end up doing time, and sometimes just for a fucked-up reason.
They live life on the edge, but it’s always on their terms. And to deal with the pressure, they kick back when they relax. They drink, party, and fuck.”
She’s drawing me in with the picture she’s painting, even though I’m not sure how it relates to me. Automatically I again pick up the vodka, this time it’s definitely smoother as it goes down.
“Clubs know that sex is the release the brothers need, but there’s a risk if they spread themselves all over town.
Oh, they fuck strange often enough, but it’s safer keeping it close to home.
There’s less danger of anything slipping during pillow talk.
” Her face twists in a half grimace, half grin.
“Which is why I know Star, Heaven and Sweetie are in deep shit right now. They told you something that they should have kept to themselves.”