Chapter 3
Switch
“Why are you looking like someone pissed in your Lucky Charms?” Rider asks, collapsing into his chair and spinning a little.
I’ve been in church alone with my thoughts for the last five or so minutes, and as much as I love my club brother, I’m not in the mood for Rider’s bullshit. Especially not when a smirk tugs at his lips.
“You in here missing Joy?”
“No. I’m just in here thinking.” I answer, not looking at his ugly smug face.
“Oh, so you’re in here thinking about missing Joy. Gotcha.” He knocks on the table and then spins a little. Wire giving us fancy as fuck office chairs was nice and all. That was before we learned that Rider can’t fucking sit still in them.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.” I finally look at him. The smirk on his face is replaced with something scarier coming from Rider. Seriousness. “What makes her different?” Rider asks quietly.
“Huh?”
“Joy. What makes her different from every other beaten woman who walked into the ER before her? What about Joy made you want to go out of your way to protect her? To save her? Fuck brother, you kidnapped her from her shitty husband.”
I ball my fists to stop my hands shaking. “I didn’t kidnap her. I helped her. She was planning on leaving.”
“Was she?”
I glare at him, at his stupid face and his assessing blue gaze. He may act like a dipshit, but he sees more than he lets on.
“Look, I get it man. You met a woman who blew your skirt up. Makes you act all out of sorts and shit. How did you know you wanted to keep her?”
I think about his words. “I don’t know what made Joy different from the others. She just is.”
He shrugs off the seriousness, instead giving me a shit eating grin. “And that’s why you're in here missing her.”
“I’m not missing her,” I scoff. “I’m doing what you all told me to do! Stay away from her, let her grow.”
Rider’s mouth twitches. “You helped her choose a house, dude.”
“She wanted a second opinion.”
“You helped her move.”
“I was available and you were there too, asshole.”
“You see her every day.”
“That’s work.”
Rider hits me with a look. “Just admit it man, that woman has you fucked up.” I glare at him.
“It’s not the worst thing to be. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.
What some of us wouldn’t give to have a woman look at us like we were the last slice of pizza in a room full of fat kids,” he says wistfully and I frown at the brother.
I know he’s been heading out every day at the same time, acting odd. Pops and Mad Dog think he’s hiding a woman, but now I’m not so sure.
We sit there until Marx’s heavy boots break us out of our thoughts. “Brothers,” Marx says, stomping into the room and taking a seat. He looks up, his gaze flicking between me and Rider before his brows pull low. “What’s wrong with you two?”
“Nothing. Just the big man can’t handle a little shit talk,” Rider says, playing his jokester self, but his smirk doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Marx gives him a weird look but is then distracted by the rest of the DRMC trickling into Church.
“Settle down, fuckers; we have shit to discuss. Namely what the fuck we’re going to do about Matthew Thompson and his business partner. Wire? Bring us up to speed.”
Joy
“Chewy, are you sure about this?” I ask, picking at my cuticles as I watch Niko get into some sort of protective wear.
“Joy, do you trust me?” Chewy asks, her little belly making her tank top ride up.
“Um -”
“That’s a no!” Blanche cackles, pointing at me.
“No, it’s ah, it’s not a no, per se.”
“Joy, it’ll be alright. Niko is trained and Chewy won’t be running the class. I will be.” Remy says in her nice, soothing tone.
“Thank god Chewy isn’t running it,” Vi mumbles under her breath.
“I, for one, am super excited. This is my first self defense lesson,” Mira beams.
I give her a tight smile, I want to be excited, but I’m also nervous out of my mind. I’ve never done anything like this before.
“So, I’ve called you all here because with Joy living on her own she needs to know how to protect herself. And so do the rest of you weenies,” Chewy starts.
“Excuse you? I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” Vi spits at Chewy who ignores her.
“So before we get started, I thought it’d be helpful to do a quick lesson on how not to get murdered,” Chewy begins.
“Might wanna control your face,” Jazz snorts from beside me.
“Wait, what?” I whisper to her as Chewy starts writing things up on a conveniently placed whiteboard.
“Your brows flew clean into your hairline,” she giggles. “I know it’s a lot, but Chewy means well.”
“Most of the time,” Kaia mutters.
“The top five ways to avoid getting regular murdered,” Chewy begins in a clear voice.
“Wait, what the heck is ‘regular murdered’?” Ana asks from the other side of the room where she’s trying to stop her little boy from licking the workout mats while Laney May sits quietly playing with a puzzle.
“Regular murdered. Not serial murdered. There are different rules for that,” Chewy replies, matter of factly.
“Riiiight,” Blanche says. “And how do we know that this actually works?”
Chewy holds her hands out. “I haven’t been murdered yet, have I?”
I roll my lips between my teeth. Yes, being here is a little scary and overwhelming, but also, watching the way these women interact is funny. I’m honored to even be asked to join them. Jazz nudges my shoulder and we share a look, trying to hide our giggles from the rest of the Ol Ladies.
“Tip number one. Try not to be too attractive. Or too ugly. Most people want to murder hotties, or uggos. No normies are getting murdered.”
“What on earth makes you think that?” Remy asks, brow raised.
“Trust me, as the Icer to the DRMC, I know.”
The women all share a look and I’m guessing it’s some sort of club business.
When Switch initially helped get me and Kit away from our home we stayed at the clubhouse.
The club would update me on Travis and his movements as much as they could, but some things would be deemed “Club business” and therefore they had to keep to themselves.
I respect that. Knowing when to trust the DRMC is what saved me and Kit.
“Point number two: try your best to avoid all men. I mean, the stats are pretty stacked on this one.” Chewy shrugs. “Unless of course they’re men you trust. Like the DRMC. The Bartashev Bratva probably falls into that category too.”
“And Dima,” Mira adds. “I love Dima.” She turns to me and smiles, “Dima is Sasha’s little brother. He isn’t Bartashev Bratva anymore, but is in the Italian mafia. His woman is the inspiration for one of my characters.”
“Is it Penelope Penfold?” Remy asks, her voice rising.
“Yes! Exactly!” Mira says, holding her hand up for a high five. “That woman is so badass.”
“Yes. And so am I. Point number three - try not to be a straight woman.”
“Jesus, Chewy,” Blanche groans, running a hand down her face.
“I think it’s a little too late, Chewy,” Lovely says patiently.
Chewy nods then her gaze darts to me for a split second. “It’s not too late for Joy. She had that rough time with her loser husband. It would be very understandable for her to switch teams.”
All eyes turn to me. Most of the women are looking very amused, and I know my cheeks are now on fire. “Um, nope, still straight. Sorry, Chewy.”
“Well, just be aware that you’re at risk of being murdered.” Chewy turns back to the white board and scribbles her next important tip. “Moving on, number four is try your best not to be right all the time. No one likes a know-it-all.”
“Wait, if that's the case how are you still alive?” Vi smirks. Chewy stares at her then blinks owlishly before moving on.
“And lastly, don’t use manners or enjoy things. Polite excitable people get regular murdered all the time.” Chewy’s gaze laser beams on Mira who gasps and clutches her non-existent pearls.
“Rude!”
Chewy shrugs before turning to Remy. “OK, let's hit Niko now.”
I clench my fists, then open them, and close them again. I know that this is for our own good, learning to protect ourselves, but the thought of inflicting pain on someone, of using my body as a weapon, has me breaking out in a cold sweat. I know what it feels like to be on the other side.
“You OK, Joy?” Jazz asks, linking her arm with mine.
“Um, yeah, just, nervous.”
She tilts her head, her dark gaze roaming my face. “We’ll take it slow. Nice and easy, and I’ll be here every step of the way.”
“We’ve got you,” Vi adds, linking her arm with my other arm.
“Yup. All of us.” Mira adds coming to stand at my back, Blanche, Lovely, Remy, Ana, Kaia and Nat joining our group in a little huddle, all surrounding me as Chewy gives me a small smile from her place by the whiteboard.
My insides fizz with nerves, but another feeling crashes over me like a wave, this one warm, comforting, and strong. I’m not alone anymore and it feels amazing.