24. Vanessa
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
VANESSA
After the humiliation of having others overhear us passes, I speedily dry off and throw on leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. Underdressed? Maybe, but I figure my concussion is reason enough for dressing leisurely.
Nervous about meeting Cupid’s friends, I redirect my focus on towel drying my hair, pinning it in a clip on top of my head, and taking ten steady breaths to calm my nerves before heading out of the bedroom to meet the VP and his ole lady.
A goliath-sized man with tree trunk thick thighs and arm muscles bulging out of his shirt is the first person I see. I recognize him as the man who was with Cupid outside Buck’s garage the day we met. He must be Oaks—Cupid’s right-hand man.
The biker stands in the middle of the living room with his back to me, talking with Cupid.
“Can I please be present when you give it to Vanessa?” he pleads, his hands steeple together like a prayer.
“Fuck, no,” Cupid says, shaking his head with a grimace as he sets down some drinks on the dining table. “You only want to be present to record her reaction and the fallout where she rages at me, Oaks.”
What are they talking about? What does Cupid plan to give me that could upset me?
The VP shrugs, not denying Cupid’s accusation. “Who wouldn’t want to be present for that action? It’s not every day you get your ass handed to you by a woman. Most chicks outside of the biker community wouldn’t dare challenge one of us.”
A tall, statuesque woman with the most luscious auburn hair down to her waist, stops setting dishes and food around the table.
Silverware clatters noisily against the table where she drops it when she turns to face the biker.
The way her eyes narrow on who I assume is her partner, it’s obvious she takes offense at his words.
“Excuse me?! Have you forgotten your wife wasn’t affiliated with bikers until we got together and that I hand you your ass on the regular when you step out of line? You better correct yourself or I will,” she clips, looking like she is ready to throw down if she doesn’t like his answer.
Panicked, the massive biker throws out his hands in front of him like a shield. His deep voice suddenly turns squeaky. “I mean, present company aside, Marlene. Most women aren’t as tough as you, baby.”
Marlene tsks her tongue with annoyance, returning her attention to setting the table.
“Bullshit. Women have no choice but to be tough, even when they don’t want to.
We’re stuck in a society dealing with asshat men who undermine all we do because we don’t have dicks swinging between our legs.
You’re assuming we’re weak based on our anatomy alone.
Let me tell you something. Our bodies may not always measure up strength-wise, but most of you wouldn’t last a day in our shoes.
You’d snap like a pretzel stick under the pressure. ”
Oh, I like Marlene. She doesn’t take shit and serves it back piping hot.
“Awe. Come on, Muscles,” Cupid whines, doing damage control. “I didn’t mean anything I said with malice.”
She spins back to him with her hands on her hips. “Then think before you speak, you blockhead. I’m saying for the record. If you say something dumb to Vanessa, I’m not rescuing your sorry ass when she decides to headbutt your thick noggin. You’d have it coming. ”
Unable to help myself, I laugh from the bedroom doorway, covering my mouth too late.
Three heads swivel in my direction, eyes wide from being caught gossiping.
“How much did she hear? Did she hear what Cupid’s planning?” Oaks whispers too loudly to his wife.
Marlene elbows him in the side to get him to shut up, only she elbows him a little too hard, making Oaks let out an audible oof.
Cupid recovers the quickest, schooling his features into a tight smile and waving me over to the dining room. “Butterfly, come meet the fam.”
“Butterfly, huh?” Oaks scratches his beard, pondering the name choice before his face lights up with a big, goofy smile. “Oh, that’s perfect. She’s like our very own Muhammad Ali.”
I cock my head as I cross the room toward the group, not understanding.
Oaks puts his fists up, pretending he’s going to box me when I approach them. “Float like a butterfly…”
“Careful,” I said, pointing at the goose-egg in the center of my forehead. “I sting like a bee.”
“Yeah, you do!” Oaks laughs, holding his hand up for a high-five. It’s well over my head.
Marlene brings his arm down to my height, rolling her eyes at her husband.
He laughs at his mistake. “My bad.”
I laugh too, giving him a high-five.
“I’m Oaks,” he says with a toothy smile before motioning at his wife. “This here is my better half—Marlene. She goes by Muscles in the crew.”
Marlene gives me a little wave, her smile friendly. “Hi, gurl! Not sure if you remember, but we met you yesterday.”
I shake my head sadly. “Sorry, I recall little of last night after Cupid…well, saved me. But it’s nice to meet you,” I say to the couple. “And thank you for packing everything.”
“No problem. And it’s understandable you can’t remember a ton from last night—you went through some heavy shit. Though don’t give Cupid full credit. You held your own until he arrived,” Marlene says reassuringly.
“Yeah, there’s no way Cupid’s soft head could’ve been used as a battering ram,” Oaks teases, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me gently.
We all laugh, the awkwardness of introductions melting away into easy conversation.
“So,” I ask the group, folding my hands in front of me, “what were y’all chatting about before I joined the party?”
“Nothing that can’t wait,” Cupid says all too quickly, not meeting my eyes as he pulls a chair out for me. “You need to eat before those pain pills you took earlier upset your stomach.”
Marlene raises her eyebrow at Cupid with a disapproving pucker of her lips, and Oaks’s goofy smile turns mischievous as he stares at his friend, like he can’t wait for the action to happen.
Knowing something is amiss, I take a seat at the table. I let Cupid push in my chair before asking my biker, “What is it you want to give me?”
Oaks snickers under his breath, helping Marlene into her seat across from me before sitting next to her. “This is going to be fun,” Oaks murmurs to Marlene.
She shushes him, her eyes on me and Cupid, interested in what’s about to unfold.
Cupid ignores my question, picking up a plate of onion rings and placing a few on my plate. “Gotta eat while it’s still hot—bar food isn’t as appetizing when it gets cold.”
Dishes are passed around the table, with Cupid putting way more food on my plate than I need. The food is tasty and filling, way better than the bar food I’ve eaten around campus. The three friends chatter while I mostly listen, contributing to the conversation when I feel comfortable.
I notice Oaks doesn’t eat much, pushing his food around on his plate. When he eats, he takes dainty bites. It seems odd that such a big man wouldn’t be eating a ton. I’d expect him to clear the table, let alone finish his plate.
“Are you not hungry?” I ask with concern. Maybe he’s not feeling well.
“Huh?” Oaks looks up from his plate to meet my eyes. “Oh. Yeah, I’m starving. But I’ve learned my lesson a long time ago about eating a lot before handling club business.”
Marlene pats his tummy affectionately before adding, “Oaks has a sensitive stomach. Don’t cha, hubby?”
Cupid pops another fried green bean into his mouth. “Thank fuck I don’t. I couldn’t do my job if I did.”
The food in my gut curdles at their words. “What kind of upcoming club business are you dealing with that makes it hard to stomach eating beforehand?”
The table goes silent. Marlene and Oaks look sideways at each other, popping food into their mouths and ignoring my question. Cupid chews slowly, staring at his plate before swallowing loudly.
“Some things we do are best left unsaid,” Cupid finally says, his dark eyes meeting mine and chilling me to my core.
“Why?” I ask, trying to keep my anxiety in check, but the hairs on my neck stand at attention, regardless. “Is it…illegal?”
Cupid says nothing, but Oaks snorts, “Ha! What don’t we do that isn’t illegal?”
“Oaks,” Marlene hisses in warning.
Pushing my plate away, I turn in my seat to face Cupid. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I like her,” Marlene whispers to Oaks. “She’s direct.”
“Of course you would,” Oaks grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Stubborn women, the both of you.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Nothing I or the club does will negatively impact you,” Cupid says in a calm tone, placing his hand over mine. His touch is warm and soothing, yet guarded.
“Don’t tell me not to worry if you’re doing something that could get you into deep trouble,” I chide, annoyance seeping into my tone. “Do you honestly believe I’d be fine if something awful happened to you as a result of you doing whatever it is you’re planning?”
“Awww!” Oaks places a heavy palm over his heart, looking at his wife with a lovey-dovey expression. “She cares about him. Isn’t that cute?”
“Adorable,” Marlene says in agreement.
The corners of Cupid’s lips turn up a smidge. “Developing feelings for me already, are you?”
“Stop ignoring the question and answer me.”
He sighs, cupping my face with his free hand. I should pull back. The old me would. Yet, Cupid’s touch is calming, and I need it with how anxious I’m growing.
“For anything bad to happen to me or my crew would mean we didn’t handle business properly.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I always clean up after handling a matter, making it impossible for it to be linked back to me or my crew.”
My heart stalls as his words sink in. I already knew Cupid was dangerous. I’m only realizing how dangerous he is.
As if he can read the fear on my face, Cupid kisses me softly on the lips. “You never have to fear me, Vanessa. I would sooner die than hurt you. You’re my woman. Speaking of…” He holds his hand out to his VP expectantly.