Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
CLEO
It’s loud tonight— music plays through the speakers, chatter fills the space. It is the typical bar night.
My friends from work dragged me out tonight, insisting that losing myself in their easy company would be better than sulking at home, after they found out that War left me in bed alone three days ago and I have not heard from him since.
He ghosted me. After I fucking told him everything, he fucking ghosted me. It hurt the first day, then the anger and regret settled in. Clearly, he came to his senses and realized that I have too much baggage for him to handle. Well, fuck him and his sexy dick.
I look across the dimly lit room, seeing the boys at the bar. Victor elbows Lucas as they wait for the bartender, their booming laughter floating over the music making me smile.
I have good friends, who are supportive and will be there when I need them. Like me, they work for the club, and we are not members, but I know that if any of us needed anything, the club would be at our sides.
Victor slides a glass to me, Lucas grinning, his tattooed knuckles tapping the bar. “To those we thought we needed but learned that we do not,” Lucas yells.
I raise my glass and drink, the warmth spreading down into my stomach like a much-needed hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day.
“Anyone tickling your fancy?” Victor asks, grinning at me.
“Tickling my fancy? Where the hell did you get that from?”
“He has been obsessed with that Downton Abbey, the British show. He will be eating baked beans on toast soon,” Lucas adds.
“Hey, do not knock it until you try it. Seen some videos online about it; it does not look that bad.” Victor shrugs, before he takes a drink.
“You will try anything once, won’t you?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Hell yeah. Babe, you only live once so make the most of it. What is the worst that can happen? You get rejected, get food poisoning, or break a bone.”
“Ummm, you could die.” I drag out the words.
He shrugs again, finishing off his whiskey, then picking up his beer bottle.
“Listen, as long are you are not mentally or physically hurting anyone, do what the hell you want,” Victor states, tipping his beer bottle to me.
His words sink in, and he is right. Over the years, people have become too scared to say what they think, or they do what they need to make themselves better because of what others will think. Freedom of speech is becoming more and more suppressed.
“I agree,” Lucas says. “I had a client who is trans, and her parents support her, but her other family members do not— they believe that she is a pervert. Like, let her live her fucking life, then if and only if she hurts someone, step in.
“Amen, man. People are dicks.”
“Speaking of dicks,” Vic utters.
Sitting back in the booth, I know what is coming. I have only told them a little detail of what happened, even though they know my backstory.
“You know what happened. He fucked me, then he left. Nothing else to it.” I take two big gulps of my drink, really thankful for the cold ice that tinkles in my glass.
“Cleo, honey, you have been stomping around the studio like a rich bitch who had her Audi stolen. So fess up, buttercup. We want the full deets, then because I am a gentleman, I will defend your honor, and by that I mean, I will message Savage and get him to deal with War,” Lucas states.
I shake my head, laughing at my close friend. Lucas is a lover, not a fighter. He will step up if needed but he will go to great lengths to smother out any hostility around him. He looks like he walked off of a fashion runway. With his perfectly smart hair and handsome face.
Some people refuse to get tattooed by him because he has zero tattoos, but he is one of the best in Arizona, so it is their loss.
“Oh, Lucas, never change.” He winks.
“Hey, I cannot have anyone messing up this pretty face.” His finger circles his face, as he wiggles his eyebrows. “It is my moneymaker.”
“Yeah, you bring in all the really fucking young jailbait chicks and the old chicks who want to fuck a wanna-be-tattooed bad boy.” Victor laughs.
“Hey, I am a badass.” Lucas pouts in the cutest way, making me laugh harder.
I love these two; they are brothers to me, as I only have one sibling and he is off gallivanting around the US on his Harley.
Thinking about my brother makes me think of War, and my mood takes a dive.
We are close but he likes to travel, never happy staying in one place. He has always been the same, since he turned eighteen and he took off. I was an oops baby as they say.
My brother was fourteen when I was born, and he pretty much raised me. When he turned eighteen, he planned on leaving, so he packed up everything he could fit into his shitty truck, and he dropped me off at our Aunt Amy’s house when I was four.
She treated me like I was hers, since she could not have kids of her own. I had a great childhood thanks to Aunt Amy and Christian sacrificing his needs to make mine better.
“Back to interfering in Cleo’s love life. Did he say anything at all like he was only in it for a good time? Men are dicks, you know.” Victor winks.
“Nothing. We had a good time. I thought we had climbed a hurdle, ya know? It fucking broke down some of my walls, but now they are firmly in place again.”
“That was a dick move on his part. I am definitely texting Savage.”
“And Target.” I giggle.
“Oh yeah, we cannot forget your favorite biker.” Lucas winks.
“Nope.” I giggle, popping the ‘p.’
We drink and talk, and it is like everything was before the Halloween party in Vegas. This is what I love: being carefree, not having anyone to rely on me, or demanding where I am all the time.
I can do and be what I want.
No man blowing up my phone asking where I am, or who I am with. And definitely no one telling me what I can and cannot eat.
Pato was controlling. He ruled my life from the simplest of things to the ones that changed my life.
Now I am up from under his thumb and finally being the Cleo I want to be.
Seeing clients all day makes you see things from so many perspectives. It shows that we are not all alike and we should not force our views on anyone.
“Enough about my messed-up love life.” I look at Lucas, setting my elbows on the table and my chin in my palm, giving him the sweetest look I can muster.
“So, who was Miss Big-Pussy-Lips? Did she rock your world like she said she would?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, and he smirks.
“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” he huffs, and both Victor and I bellow out laughter.
“Bullshit, my friend. You tell us all the dirty shit that you do. Fuck, we all share.”
I nod at Lucas. “He is right. So spill.” I look at Victor. “Do not think that you are off the hook, mister. You took that chick home the other night, the one with the crazy eyes.”
Lucas downs the rest of his beer, then tells us the story.
“Oh, fuck, did she ever. My cock ached by the time I left her place. She fucked me senseless and damn, that woman can suck a cock like a pro and as for her pussy…” He licks his lips. “Big, fat, and juicy— man, she has ruined me going down on any woman after her.”
He hums, closing his eyes while remembering that night.
“You dog, you. I swear, I get more pussy working at Rugged Ink than I ever did in any other studio.” Victor high-fives our friend, then they talk about women.
They may sleep with a lot of women, but one thing they do not do is mistreat any of them. Each and every woman they sleep with knows the deal. One and done.
That used to be me; I would join in, bantering back and forth about the men I slept with, but since War, no man has interested me. He is the only man I have had sex with since Halloween, and it is like my body will not respond to anyone else.
I am not sure whether he is coming back or not, since he did not leave a note or wake me up saying he was leaving. It hurt— him not being there— but I get that men like War are used to fucking and running.
I just thought he was different.