Chapter 12 #2
“What was that?” Rachel asked, moving the pint further away, some of the liquid sloshing over the side. “I didn’t quite hear you.”
“I said fine!”
“There’s a good boy.”
She placed the pint in front of him, watching as he took a sip.
“Just a tiny bit,” he muttered, showing her the remaining pint. She shot him a nasty glance and then went to take someone else’s order.
The old ladies then spent the remainder of the evening drinking a lot, laughing loudly, arguing, bickering, and answering the men back.
The leader of the Manchester charter had tried to question Dante over this—which someone called Greg advised him against. Rachel overheard and threw a lemon at him, Gemma spiked his next drink with a whole jar of salt, and he quickly learned then to leave them to it.
And if I were being honest, this really helped shift some of my resentment towards the club.
Sure, the men were still being standoffish with me—especially people like Hacksaw, Trent, Chris, Doc, Tools, and Sunshine, all of whom had been there that night.
But it was clear they adored their women.
And it was clear that the women had steadily gathered up the reins until they were more than just “old ladies” and actually had a purpose here.
“Oi, new girl,” a voice came from behind me, making me jump.
I spun around in my chair to see the entire group of old ladies standing behind the bar, all crowding around me and my small stool.
“Her name is Gabriella, Bird. Be nice,” Rachel said, pushing herself forward.
“I’m feeling a bit like a caged animal here, would you mind backing up just a little—”
“Are you joining?” Steph interrupted me, holding up three bottles of Dead Man’s Finger.
“I really don’t think I should.”
“Nonsense,” Rachel waved me away. “You’ve been on your own all day. Come and have fun with us.”
“I—”
“I’ll do the introductions,” she interrupted again. “Obviously you know me. I’m the leader of our Sin club. Jenna here is Shark’s old lady. She is our princess and co-founder.”
Rachel reached through the crowd of women, somehow managing to grab hold of Jenna and pulled her forward. Her purple hair and lip rings stood out immediately, and she flashed me a drunken, if not sad, smile.
I knew why.
Her old man had recently passed away. Shark had been one of the titled members of the club before he was murdered by Rogue members of the Riders a few months back. They were definitely rogue, because Nico had flown into a rage when he found out and slaughtered their wives and children in revenge.
“Sasha is Sunshine’s old lady. She does shifts at the bar every now and then, so you’ll see her. Gemma—oi, Gemma, raise your hand!”
Four fingers wiggled in the air, though I couldn’t see her face. “Gemma is Ant’s old lady. She works in the garage with Imogen—Trent’s old lady—and they sort out the books and help manage the finances. Then we have Jade, she belongs to Tools. Steph—let’s see you, Steph!”
A black-haired woman came forward, and I heard a massive “boo” ring out behind me that sounded suspiciously like Dante and made Rachel cackle.
“Steph is Monster’s old lady. And Dante’s tormentor. He calls her Snow White and she calls him—”
“A cunt?” Steph finished for her. Rachel laughed even harder.
“Beth is Greg’s old lady. Never call him Malfoy. Or Noob. He cries about it. Beth is also Dante’s ex, so she’s very familiar.”
“I—”
“Beth also owns The Greasy Spoon. You know Greasy, don’t you?”
I didn’t get the chance to answer.
“And these two,” she interrupted me again. “Are The Birds. Don’t know their name, don’t really care,” she shrugged. “They answer as one, anyway.”
“It’s Nicole and Emma,” one of them said.
“Right. Nicole and Emma,” Rachel replied, rolling her eyes. “They belong to Chicken and Rooster. Though don’t ask me who belongs to whom or if there’s an orgy going down every day. I’ve found it best not to ask.”
“Um… hi,” I murmured, because I didn’t really know what else to say. I was overwhelmed by a sea of faces, and I knew I stood no chance remembering them all.
“Church starts in five minutes. It’s our time to shine,” Jade grinned at me. “You coming to play?”
“I think I’m just going to head up to my room for the night and—”
“No, you can’t,” Rachel protested. “Besides, Heather is getting the kids to bed, and she’ll scratch your eyes out if you dare enter her domain.
She only gets to do it once a week on meeting night, and she takes it very seriously.
It’s the one night a week they’re in bed before eight,” she laughed. I offered her a weak smile in return.
I wanted to join in. I desperately wanted to make friends here and have somewhere to belong. And looking at them all with their smiling faces and their own Sin cuts… I really wanted to be a part of that.
But I didn’t belong. I wasn’t an old lady, and I didn’t know how long I was going to be here for.
In fact, technically, that wasn’t even true. I was an old lady—to Nico. Their arch nemesis. The man in charge of the club that had already murdered one of their men.
Seeing the changes here, how much the women were respected and needed, how different it was to anything I’d known from my time here before, I wanted that. But I’d already lost so much. I didn’t want to lose more people.
And, if truth be told, I really didn’t want to be drinking with Rachel, no matter how friendly she was currently being.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I finally said. “If Vienna is going to Church, I’m just going to wait here until he’s done and then say my goodnights.”
“Oh, but—” Rachel began, but I interrupted her by waving her away, just as she had done to me.
“No offence, Rachel, but I’m really not interested. There are many people I would have a drink with, but you are certainly not one of them. So thanks, but as I said—no thanks.”
Rachel glared at me. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
The entire club seemed to quieten at her response. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dante and Vienna get up from their seats, but she halted them, holding her hand up. “You two,” she snapped, not even looking in their direction. “Don’t you have a meeting to attend?”
Dante sighed heavily. “Come on, brothers. Let’s get this over with.”
“Fuck that,” Pivot grinned. “I’m not missing a cat-fight.”
“Pivot,” Vienna muttered under his breath.
“What I—”
Vienna punched him in the face, knocking him out cold.
“Be nice,” he warned, glaring at us both.
“I wasn’t planning on doing anything else,” Rachel smiled sweetly.
Vienna scoffed. “I wasn’t just talking to you. She’s not defenceless, Rachel. Remember that.”
And then he grabbed hold of Pivot’s ankle and dragged him into Church, the rest of his brothers following behind him.
“Ladies,” she announced, walking around the other side of the bar until she was standing next to me. “The bar is ours. Enjoy yourselves. You?” she hissed, grabbing my arm and hauling me off my seat. “You’re coming with me.”