CHAPTER 16
PLAYBOY
I’m just placing my finished beer on the table while my eyes dart back to where the bathroom is. Lara and Riti went in that direction, but neither have come back yet. I wouldn’t be worried, but Lola also went in that direction.
Just as I’m about to say, ‘fuck it’ and go to check on my Cupcake, Lola comes running back to the table. Her face is covered in tears, and the tip of her nose is turning red. It doesn’t move me in the least.
Not even the handprint on her cheek moves me.
She’s fucking dead to me. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just a matter of time before she’s kicked out of the clubhouse permanently.
Even though I’ve been crystal clear about how I feel about her, Lola still rushes toward me. When she gets close enough, she launches herself and wraps around me while desperation rolls off her in waves.
My jaw clenches and I try to brush her off, but she only grips me harder.
Now, the only way to get her off me will be with force and I’m very aware of where we are.
The brothers out with me tonight, especially Ryker and Snake, look just as pissed as I feel.
Scratch and Wrecker almost look amused, and their smiles only grow wider when I glare at them.
Fucking assholes.
It’s hard to understand what Lola is babbling about at first, her sobbing drowning out everything else. She calms down just enough to get out, “Lara slapped me in the bathroom.”
Even though no one around the table is fond of Lola, everyone stiffens. I don’t and just continue to glare down at her.
I understand why my brothers are on edge. Even if she’s not beloved, Lola is still part of the club. For now.
It matters.
We protect our own. It’s something we pride ourselves on.
When I can’t brush Lola off, I hold my arms out to ensure I’m nowhere close to touching her. The thought of it makes me fucking ill.
Lara comes sauntering over with her face crafted into a carefully neutral mask. Her steps are measured, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s obvious that she’s not worried about whatever the crying woman in my arms is wailing about.
My Cupcake looks me over, her eyes taking in my raised arms and how I’m not touching Lola and she’s the one, clearly, clinging to me. Lara’s eyebrow arches and I shoot her a look full of pleading.
“Lola,” my woman’s voice is sickly sweet in a way that should not be a turn on but totally is, “are you done putting on your little play or should we expect another act?”
“You’re the one performing,” Lola screeches. Her hand cradles her cheek, and she lets go of me just enough for me to shrug out of her hold. Fucking barely. Her eyes turn toward me and she hisses, “What the hell, Playboy?”
“I’ve told you multiple times not to talk to me, not to touch me, and not to pretend like there is anything between us. You don’t seem to get it, but you’re already on thin ice in the club. Keep going and you’ll find yourself without anywhere to go in Dogwood Ridge,” I grind the words out.
It’s not a threat; I’ll make it happen. No matter what.
Lola just rolls her eyes like I’m being silly and difficult. When she looks at the rest of the brothers, who aren’t entirely sure what to do, triumph flashes through her eyes. Trying to appear like an innocent victim, she looks down coyly. She’s just not quick enough to hide what I’ve already seen.
“Stop pretending,” Lola feigns vulnerability while a few more tears streak down her cheeks to try to make her alleged pain into something with impact.
“I know you said you wanted to keep it quiet, publicly, but I can’t take it anymore.
I’m not going to be your little secret that you only hold and love in private. ”
My mouth falls open and I’m not even sure what to do with my reaction. Do I throw up? Do I rage? Do I slump down and just let Lara whip me? I’m at a complete fucking loss.
“Ah,” Lara drawls, “another act it is.”
Ryker’s voice is low and filled with curiosity, not anger, “Lara, did you slap Lola?”
Lara juts up her chin, every inch of her screaming out her defiance and her fearlessness. “Yes,” she answers simply and clearly.
She also doesn’t offer an explanation. Not that she needs one as far as I’m concerned.
Lola immediately jumps in, her tone victorious, “See? She even admitted it.”
Ryker doesn’t look at Lola. “Did she deserve it?”
Before Lara can answer, the rest of the ladies walk up and fan out behind my woman. It’s obvious who they support. It sure as fuck isn’t Lola.
Riti’s eyes find mine and the anger I see there has me almost taking a step back. She’s not the kind of woman to get pissed off easily because it’s just not in her nature. She takes things as they come and she doesn’t let things get under her skin, even when they probably should.
My blood runs fucking frigid and my stomach sinks. Whatever was said, whatever was implied, I was put at the center of it. It’s not surprising, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t land.
“She definitely deserved it,” Riti’s the one who bites out the words.
Lara nods once, the move is decisive.
“Good,” Ryker and I say it at the same time and share a look and a knowing smirk.
Lola practically goes incandescent with anger, but she tries to keep it inside by pressing her lips together in a tight line.
I’m not sure what kind of reaction she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this one.
She’s looking at me like I betrayed her.
If she thinks I did, it’s only because she’s fucking delusional.
The cracks in her act are becoming glaringly obvious.
I didn’t betray Lola. The entire notion of it is fucking laughable.
“Out of curiosity,” my voice is dripping with charm, the tone of it something Lola has never heard from me. But Lara has; her eyes flash in recognition while Lola stills. “What did she say to earn the slap?”
There’s no doubt in my mind that it was fucking earned, and it must have been bad. Lara’s not the kind of woman to go right to violence. Regardless of how tempted she might be.
I should know considering I’ve earned more than a slap. She could have coldcocked me and been within her right. My woman has shown incredible restraint.
“Where do I even start,” Lara’s voice is full of consideration, like she really needs to think about it.
But her eyes are sharp. “She started by calling me sister in that fake ass voice of hers she thinks fools people. Then she informed me that you and her were fucking before your night out on the town began.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” I snarl the words.
Lara smirks and nods slightly. Some of the worry and fear in my gut loosens.
My woman gestures toward Lola’s neck. “She tries to use those,” she visibly swallows like she’s nauseated, “love bites as proof. Not only of the act but also of how,” she makes a sound with her tongue and widens her eyes, “vigorous you were.”
I glare at Lola, as do the rest of my brothers. It’s one thing to lie to a brother about someone not related to the club. It’s another thing to lie about a brother to someone, anyone. It is not something we take lightly.
“That’s when I reminded Lola of exactly what her position is and it has nothing to do with sitting at a table,” Riti chimes in and makes a sweeping motion over the club’s reserved booth.
When I glance around, everyone is giving us a little room, but they’re also paying attention. I don’t really give a fuck. From the look on Lara’s face, she doesn’t either.
That’s my girl.
“She then insinuated that Riti has been trying to get in your pants,” Lara’s eyebrow arches as her blue eyes bore into mine, “for a long time.”
I bark out a laugh and so do my brothers. She’s worked in my shop for years and we grew up together. Which means we know one particularly important thing about Riti.
“Which is hilarious, because while I don’t plaster myself in rainbow, anyone who knows me knows I’m a lesbian,” Riti’s voice is flat.
Lola’s eyes widen and her mouth opens and closes a few times.
“Lola, very helpfully, let me know the two of you,” Lara’s finger flicks between me and Lola, “didn’t even have time to wash up before coming here tonight and how your dick would still be covered in her fluids.”
I gag and Snake covers his mouth. Not in amusement; in sheer fucking horror.
Ryker looks like he’s tempted to pull his gun out right here and shoot her. Ezra looks like she’s considering the same thing.
“I let her know about her breath, which smells like cum.” Lara doesn’t even bat an eye as everyone’s attention moves toward her while the tiniest bit of the tension in the room breaks. “She did not seem very appreciative of the information.”
Lara’s hands come together in a loud clap and the smile on her face turns sinister. My cock perks up instantly.
Down boy.
I can hear her in my head saying it. She glances at me; she knows just what she does to me.
“This is where the real meat of the story is because Lola informed me that I should be thanking her. All because she gave me a chance at motherhood since, clearly, I am an unwanted spinster.”
Lola scoffs, “I never called you a spinster.”
Dead. Fucking. Silence.
“It was only when she told me that she hopes I don’t raise Vanessa to be as pathetic as me that I slapped her. She doesn’t get to say my daughter’s name,” Lara says the words with perfect calm.
Too calm.
The killing kind of calm.
Lola is lucky she only got slapped.
Surprising the fuck out of me, Graycie lunges toward Lola. Snake moves like the fucking wind and gently catches her and pulls her back. His lips meet the shell of her ear as he starts murmuring words far too low and definitely not meant for us to hear.
I can only fucking imagine.
Hands wrap around my arm and my head snaps down to find Lola trembling and trying to get closer to me. “I’m her mother, I have a right to be concerned about how she’s being raised,” Lola tries to defend herself.
For a second, I’m amazed at the layers of victimization she’s crafted into one sentence. And I’m disgusted by how easily it would have worked on me before.
Not now though. No fucking way.
My jaw clenches and I barely get the words out through my gritted teeth, “Let go of my arm. Right fucking now.”
Lola whines, but I don’t give a single fuck.
“I have never wanted you, Lola. I’ve already said this to you. Do not reach for me. Do not touch me. Do not follow me around. Now that you’ve spread lies about a brother, you should just start packing,” my voice is glacial and edged with steel.
I won’t back down from this.
When I meet Ryker’s gaze, he inclines his chin slightly and I know the decision is all but made.
Even though most things are taken to a vote, whether it’s just core leadership or the entire club, when something like this comes up our Prez can decide. For the sake of the club and expediency.
There’s a reason he’s our fucking Prez.
And I trust Ryker with my life.
Lola looks around and properly reads the room. Without a word, she turns and struts away like none of it can ever touch her. I only keep my eyes on her to make sure she actually fucking leaves.
You can never be too careful.
“Damn, Graycie,” Wrecker jokes, “I was a little afraid of you for a second there.”
“If only you hadn’t stopped me,” Graycie pouts and shoves Snake’s shoulder. He doesn’t move an inch.
When I look back at Lara, she’s already watching me. It’s like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do next. She’s not sure how hard I’ll fight.
My movements are fluid as I bend and pick her up and drape her over my shoulder. Laughter and cheers ring out from my brothers and the ladies.
Lara hits my back, her voice incredulous, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m taking you for a ride,” I tell her like it should be obvious.
She still struggles, but my strides are long. I don’t waste time and put her down right on the back of my bike. Her big blue eyes are wide as she steadies herself.
“I’ve never ridden before,” her voice shakes slightly.
I don’t say anything at first while I reach into my bag to pull out the jacket I have ready for her. And her helmet.
Lara’s mouth falls open as she looks at what I’m holding out for her. I know when Rumble picked Vanessa up today, she got the same and a pair of boots. Dad sent me a photo and I’ve already saved it.
Vanessa looked like she was ready to take on the open road.
Now my woman will too.
“I’ll go slow at first. You keep your feet on the pegs and lean when I lean while holding onto me.”
“You make it sound incredibly simple when I’m not sure I understand the physics involved in us not toppling over to our doom,” she sasses.
“There’s no need to understand the physics of it all, Cupcake,” I drawl. “Your job is to hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”
Her nod is tentative and when I look into her eyes, I see something I’m almost afraid to name—burgeoning trust in me, as the man not the tattooist.
I hold the jacket up for her and she slides it on before I tug it into place. Once I get the helmet on her, I step back and snap a quick picture.
“So Vanessa can see,” I tell Lara when she arches an eyebrow in question.
Her entire face softens and, fuck, it does something strange to me.
Something permanent.
Like a shift.
A realignment.
The moment I’m on the back of my bike; she slides her arms around my waist. It feels so fucking right.
I fire up my bike and yell over the roar of my engine, “Keep holdin’ on.”
Starting slow isn’t easy for me, but I do it. For her.
Her grip tightens at first, but as we head toward the mountains for a short ride, I feel her body relax. The moment she melts into me; I open it up.
The wind washes over us and the road stretches ahead.
My woman is on the back of my bike. She’s wrapped around me like she’ll never let go.
Maybe this isn’t purgatory, maybe it’s a chance at an honest start.