Chapter 7 The War Brothers MC Clubhouse
SEVEN
THE WAR brOTHERS MC CLUBHOUSE
Rose
I’ve been reassured that the people at the clubhouse are great people.
They rescue women and children from bad situations.
But my nerves are throttling me. I’m sitting on the bed.
My leg is bouncing a thousand miles an hour, and I’m contemplating my life choices.
I’m about to go to a friggin’ motorcycle club.
“Rose.”
My name being called out makes me jump. I’m on edge. Zara is making her way over to me, and the bed dips beside me when she sits.
“You don’t have to go,” she says gently. “You can stay here. I can call Rage and let him know.”
“I’ll be okay. I feel safe with him. I’m just worried about meeting everyone. I’m usually a homebody. I don’t have a lot of friends. Meeting new people, especially motorcycle club members, is just intimidating, that’s all. And what do I call him, Theo or Rage?”
She smiles warmly. “You have nothing to worry about. They may look big and scary, but the men are all softies. The men don’t help me with the shelter because I asked. They help because they’re good people and they care. No one calls him Theo, but it’s up to you.”
“Okay, Rage it is.” I pause. “What about the women?” I ask, cringing. According to all the shows set in motorcycle clubs that I’ve watched, some of the women are bitchy. All of that drama is not my scene. Never has been, never will be.
Zara chuckles. “They’re honestly amazing. I don’t have many friends either, but those women have become my family. They’re supportive and kind. You’ll fit right in, but I’ll give you a few pointers on a couple of the people living there. You’ll be walking into a big mix of personalities.”
“Yes, please tell me.” I lean forward, listening to every word.
“Okay, for the club members: My husband is Bomber. When you meet him, he’ll appear angry, but he’s not.
He just has resting bitch face.” She giggles.
“Axle will tease you and joke around. He’s harmless, but be prepared for him to be in your face and want to know all your business.
Demon is . . . umm . . .” She flinches slightly, and I don’t like the look on her face.
“He’s just gone through a lot of trauma, so he’s quiet.
He may do odd things on occasion, like”—she winces—“flick his knife around. But he’d never hurt anyone . . . in the clubhouse, that is.”
Okay, so he hurts people outside the clubhouse. Mental note: Stay away from Demon.
There’s a softness on her face when she says, “The rest are nice and friendly, and easy to talk to. All the women are fantastic. Sophie is probably the most outgoing. She can be direct and blunt and make inappropriate comments, but she means no harm. She’s very funny.”
I take a moment to process everything. They sound like they have their own quirks, but again, if they’re nice to me, then it will all be okay. I think . . .
“So you know, the club still has two sweet butts remaining in the clubhouse.”
I give her an odd look. “A what?”
She tries to keep a straight face. “A sweet butt. Basically, they’re women who are there for the single men to have a good time with and to help around the clubhouse with cleaning and cooking in exchange for food and a roof over their heads.”
I gawk at her, my jaw practically hitting the floor.
“I’m called an ol’ lady because I have a partner who’s in the club. Some people with partners are married, but some aren’t, and two women have children. Everyone’s nice, though.”
My face twists in disgust. I’m going to the clubhouse because I feel safe with Rage and I enjoy spending time with him, but what if he wants to screw other women?
And he can—he’s single—but I’m not that sort of girl.
I’ll struggle if he’s amazing and comforting me one minute, then sleeping with another girl afterward.
My mouth is dry. I really didn’t think this through. I hardly know the guy.
Zara gently elbows me. “Rage is here,” she whispers, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts.
My heart pounds. Rage is walking toward us with a big goofy grin. My stomach flutters as a gnawing apprehension grips me. I stand to greet him.
Rage’s grin fades as he reaches me, his brows furrowing. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft.
He cares about me; I see that. I shuffle my feet, feeling awkward. He whisks hair behind my ear, and I momentarily close my eyes at the affectionate touch. “I know we aren’t together . . .” I start hesitantly.
“Not yet,” he murmurs.
I laugh. “What did you just say?” I want him to repeat it. I need to make sure I’m not imagining things.
He gives me a cheeky grin in return. I’m falling for him too quickly.
“Zara told me there are women at the clubhouse who don’t have partners. Who just sleep with the single guys. I guess, just with everything I’ve been through, will you be sleeping with them while I’m there?” Jeez, that sounded even more desperate than I imagined it would.
He shakes his head swiftly. “No fucking way.”
“Oh . . . good.” And I can breathe.
“Why would I want to sleep with anyone when I’ll have you in my bed?” His tone is firm; his eyes hold mine.
And it occurs to me in that instant that I’ll be sleeping in his bed. A shirtless, sexy, eight-packed man. If I had any friends, they’d be jealous.
“You don’t have to stay in my bed,” he’s quick to say. “There’s a spare room for you as well.” He looks at the ground, almost shyly, and it’s so sweet. “I just wanted you to know you have options.”
I’m speechless. He might be twenty-four, but he’s mature for his age. Ha! I’m sure all the cougars say that.
“What are you giggling at?” he asks, his lips twitching with amusement.
“All your friends are going to think I’m a cougar.” How embarrassing!
He lets out a deep laugh, then he grabs my bag and slings it over his shoulder. “But you’re a hot cougar.”
“Rage!” I curse and playfully smack his arm.
“I like you calling me that . . . And what?” he asks, pretending to be hurt. “You are hot.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
We get on the bike and ride safely out of town. It isn’t long until we reach a dirt road. This new rebellious side of me kind of wishes he’d go faster, but he’s being “Rage,” taking care of me, like he’s done since the moment we met.
We pull up to what looks like an older-style mansion.
It’s not modern or fancy, but it’s two stories high and sprawling, surrounded by trees.
The property feels secluded, peaceful even.
I take off the helmet, and Rage offers me his hand to help me off the bike.
I accept, though my dismount is anything but graceful.
A sudden bark makes me turn, and I see a rottweiler staring at me. His tail is wagging. I smile widely. “Can I pat the dog?” I love animals.
Rage smiles. “His name’s Conan. He’s friendly. Loves women and kids. Us MC men? He’s a little more standoffish.”
I crouch down slowly, letting Conan sniff my hand. When he licks it, I gently pat him, marveling at how soft and shiny his fur is. “He’s gorgeous,” I say, running my hand over his silky coat. “And well fed,” I add with a grin, noticing his round belly.
Rage gazes at him. “He’s overweight, but we all love to spoil him.”
I peer up at the clubhouse. My hands are shaky. Rage glances down, and I can see he notices. He takes my hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. I give him a warm smile. He calms me somewhat, but my heart still pounds. I hope they like me.
The front door bangs open and a handsome man with a mischievous grin strides to us with open arms. “Rose! Good to meet you.”
I go to put my hand out to shake his, but he pulls me into a small hug instead. “Axle, is it?” I ask.
His whole face brightens and he looks at Rage. “Did you tell her about me?” His tone is full of mock excitement.
Rage shakes his head. “Nope.”
Axle beams. “I’m famous!” he declares, making me giggle.
“Axle! Give her a second to breathe. She hasn’t even walked through the front door yet,” a woman calls out from the porch. She’s attractive, petite with long blond hair and a friendly smile.
When I get closer, she pulls me into a warm hug. “I’m Elena. It’s lovely to meet you. I apologize for Axle—he gets a little excited.”
“Like a puppy?” I tease.
Elena laughs. “Exactly like a puppy.”
Axle goes “ruff” in her ear, then gives her a chaste kiss on the lips. They’re funny and sweet together.
“Come inside and I’ll introduce you to everyone,” says Rage, his voice steady and reassuring.
I release a heavy breath. “Okay.”
“Everyone’s really nice, I promise you,” Elena adds.
I need to stop worrying, but I can’t help it.
We reach the front door, and I walk in slowly.
My heart is ready to break free from my chest it’s pumping so hard.
Rage leads me through a hallway that opens up into an open-plan space.
I don’t know where to look. There’s a man behind a bar and three women sitting on the stools, talking.
Four very tall, very intimidating men with club vests on are playing pool.
They all glance over at us, and three of the four smile at us.
I’m guessing the one who’s not smiling and who’s tattooed all the way up his neck is Demon.
He’s not angry, though; it’s more like he’s uninterested in my presence.
Rage pulls me along to them. They’re all dressed alike, in jeans, a black or white shirt, and their club vest.
The first man offers his hand, and I look up at him. He’s solid and very tall. I shake his hand and smile.
“My name’s Reaper,” he says in a deep voice. “I’m the president of the club. You’re safe here with us. Your ex can’t touch you. If you ever need anything, just reach out.”
My shoulders fall an inch. “Thanks so much for letting me stay,” I say sincerely.