24. Vanessa #2
With a giant grin on his face, Oaks hands him a garment bag over the back of his chair.
Cupid takes the bag, unzips it, revealing a leather cut much smaller than the one he’s wearing.
He pulls it out of the bag, shaking it out in front of me.
The name Psyche is embroidered on a patch in blood-red over the heart of the vest in the front, the name I’ve heard him use a handful of times when addressing me.
Confused, I ask, “What’s this?”
“Protection and respect for you within this club and outside of it.”
I take the soft leather vest in my hands, running my fingers over the embroidered name. “How does this protect me?”
“Turn it over.”
I do as he says and find the Royal Bastards logo patch on the back along with the words, Property of Cupid.
My eyes bulge before narrowing. I glare at the biker. “Property?”
He smirks. “Yeah, mine.”
“Excuse me?!” I chuck the cut in his face, folding my arms across my chest. “I am NOT property!”
Oaks throws his head back, letting out a boisterous laugh. Marlene covers her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“It sounds worse than it is,” Cupid explains, yanking my arms free to slip them through the cut.
I try slapping his hands away, failing miserably as he gets the cut on me. “It sounds bad because it is bad.”
“I’ve already claimed you,” Cupid says, holding the vest closed in the front to prevent me from tearing it off. “The word property may sound offensive to outsiders, but in traditional biker culture it’s an honorary title.”
“Patriarchy bullshit,” I snap.
“My patch on you signifies that you’re taken by me, protected by me and, by extension, you’re protected by my crew, as well as being highly appreciated inside and outside of the club. It shows you’re in a committed relationship with me—the patch-holder—and are affiliated with the Royal Bastards.”
My nostrils flare. “If it’s not meant to be derogatory toward women, then rename it something else.”
“No can do,” Oaks cuts in, trying to rescue his friend. “It’s a biker tradition.”
“Ignore the title,” Marlene says, trying to deescalate our fight. She motions at her own cut she’s wearing, something I hadn’t taken stock of until she points it out. “You think I’d be wearing Oaks’ property patch if he viewed me as his possession? Naw, hun. It’s about assurance, not servitude.”
“Not feeling very assured at the moment.” I huff, trying to pull free of Cupid’s death grip on the vest to no avail.
“Marlene’s right,” Cupid says, pulling me close by my vest, which is feeling more like a straitjacket. “It’s a promise I make to you as my ole lady to keep you safe and treasured at all times, even when I’m not with you.”
Ole lady?! I may know little about MC culture, but I know enough about their lingo to understand the significance of a biker saying someone is his ole lady.
My body stiffens as I stare at him with utter bewilderment. “Ole lady? As in, I’m?—”
“His wife—biker style,” Oaks says brightly, cutting me off.
“Welcome to the family!” Marlene squeals with excitement, raising her beer.
The three of them clink their glasses, toasting our relationship status with laughs and whoops of cheer.
I gawk at all three of them like they’ve lost their damn marbles. “Are you being fucking for real?”
“Never been more real about anything in my life,” Cupid says, leaning in to give me a big kiss on my lips before I can swat him off. He pulls back with a resolute gaze, standing from his seat. “We’ll make it legal once you graduate.”
“W-What?” I stammer, my brain going haywire as I try to wrap my head around what he’s saying.
This cannot be happening.
Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought, and I’m still knocked out cold.
“Oaks, let’s head out,” Cupid says, heading for the door.
The VP gives Marlene a quick kiss before following Cupid.
“Wait!” I scramble from my seat, running after him. I grab hold of his arm when he reaches the hall to the front door, stopping him from leaving. “Where are you going?”
“Club business,” he says nonchalantly, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear that broke free from the clip on my head. “Don’t worry. Marlene has a girls’ night planned for the two of you.”
“Sure do,” Marlene says, still eating at the dining table. “We’re doing facials and binge-watching Married at First Sight—fitting considering you two are tying the knot soon. We can start wedding planning for your big day, too.”
My head spins around to face her. “WHAT?!”
“Don’t wait up for me, Psyche,” Cupid says, planting a swift kiss on my cheek. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, and you need your rest.”
“Cupid, we need to discuss things,” I hiss when he heads for the exit.
“Sure. When I come home, we can talk all you want,” he hollers over his shoulder, walking out the door.
Oaks gives me a playful wave, all big smiles as he closes the door behind them, leaving me heated beyond words.
Marlene appears at my side. “Thinking about killing him?”
“Yes,” I spit through my teeth.
Her head falls back with a cackle. She slaps me on the back playfully, nearly causing me to stumble forward. “If a biker drives you to where you’re contemplating murder, it’s official.”
“What’s official?”
“That you’re his ole lady. Duh. Only an ole man can make you feel this out of control.”
My eyes must be the size of dinner plates as I stare incredulously at her.
She throws an arm around my shoulder, walking us back to the living room. “Come on. We have a date with reality TV.”