Chapter 31
MARIETTA
Itext the girls first thing after Merrick leaves the club, telling them the news.
Me: We did it. We did it!
Jenna: Are you serious? When? Last night?
Symphony: Is this why Merrick had Diesel cover him at the bar?
Bailey: Finally!
Me: Merrick did some club stuff. And we ended up with some new women in the bunks, so they gave me the room set aside for Merrick. Then, he came in, too. And stayed! And we did it!
I want to keep typing it over and over.
We did it!
We did it!
Jenna: So how are you feeling?
Me: Fantastic? And a little sore.
Symphony: Did you bleed like a stuck pig? I bled like a stuck pig.
Jenna: I didn’t bleed at all.
Bailey: I don’t remember. It was so long ago.
Jenna: Bailey!
Bailey: Okay, yeah, I bled everywhere.
Me: Some, but it wasn’t anything big.
Jenna: And speaking of size…
Bailey: Jenna!
Symphony: Well, if he’s anything like his brother…
Bailey: Symphony!
Symphony: Cough up the info, Bailey. You married a Pickle, too.
Right. I had forgotten that Bailey’s husband was a cousin to Diesel and Merrick. They were all part of the Pickle empire, a deli chain with a million business spinoffs.
Me: I have to run. We will have to catch up. Maybe on campus Monday?
Jenna: Let’s do it!
Bailey: I’m in!
Symphony: Yes, but I want DETAILS.
Me: This will be so fun!
I’m over the moon as I shower and dress in my usual bathroom near the bunkhouse rather than one of the three in the main hallway. I’m not ready to give up my change in situation to the club at large until I have to.
Before I have to make lunch for everyone wandering the club, which is more than usual due to the patrols, I head into the bunks to check on Jami and Crystal.
Jami searches through the closet of clothes. Crystal lies curled up on the bed, but her face is less ashen than last night. Her breakfast plate is on the floor beside her. She took a couple of bites of toast after puking. That’s something.
“Find anything you can use?” I ask.
Jami turns, her faded purple hair falling down the back of the leopard print shirt I dug out last night. “The clothes in here are kind of slutty.”
“Yeah, leftovers from bunnies.”
“Bunnies?” She pulls out a light blue sweater and holds it against her front to check for size.
“Club bunnies. I don’t know how they lose their clothes when they stay over, but that’s supposedly where it all came from.”
“Oh, I get what you mean,” Jami says. “The party girls. The Kin call them fuck whores.”
“That’s us,” Crystal says from her bunk. “The fuck whores.”
Yikes. “I hate that they call you that.”
Jami shrugs. “It was fun until it wasn’t.”
“You were with a guy named Halo, right?”
She sighs. “Yeah. I doubt he’ll come for me. He didn’t seem all that attached, given he poked her right before the raid.” She tilts her head at Crystal.
“In front of you?” I can’t even imagine that scene. I shift my gaze to the other girl, but she has her eyes closed again.
“We were both kind of out of it.” Jami tunnels through a mile of tiny skirts and lace bras to find a pair of flower-embroidered jeans. “These are pretty.”
“I think they’d fit you.”
“Can I shower?”
“Totally. I’ll show you where.”
We walk through the rows of bunks. Crystal doesn’t say anything as we pass.
I show Jami the bathroom. “So, hey, Iron Jack thinks it’s best if you stay here a while, as long as you want to. We can use the help, and it doesn’t seem like the Kin were the best, well, fit, I guess.”
“You mean they treated us like shit.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I didn’t want to say it.
“Sure. For a bit, maybe.”
“You have family? Somewhere to go?”
Jami shrugs. “Not really. I left home at seventeen. I could go back, but I don’t think I want to.”
“Well, you’re welcome here. There’s shampoo and stuff in there. Maybe not a toothbrush, but we could probably pick one up.”
“I’ll manage,” she says. “Thanks.”
I back away.
I wonder if it will even work to keep them both here, if there’s any bad blood between them over Halo.
I hurry to the kitchen to cook up a bunch of pasta and garlic bread for everyone who’s around. By the time it’s all served, I have to rush to be ready for Merrick to pick me up.
What to wear?
The madness of last night means Betz hasn’t been bored and told me what to wear. And maybe moving out of the bunks means she won’t treat me like a dress-up hoochie.
I open my suitcase. Is two weeks of living here worth hanging everything up? I didn’t do that in the bunks because the big closet in the back was already full of stuff, and I didn’t want to mix mine in.
But maybe I could do that here.
I unfold my dresses. Maybe these.
I find the bin filled with my favorite velvet hangers. When all the dresses are spaced evenly in the closet, I’m glad I did it. It’s my little space.
But what to put on?
It will be a long shift at the bar. I find a pair of suede ankle boots with a low heel. Jeans will be good with them.
For a top, I’m not sure what to do. I know the sexy stuff made Merrick crazy before. But now? Would I even be interesting since we’ve already done it?
I pull out the push-up bra. This, definitely.
With a sweater?
No, I want cleavage.
I hunt around until I locate a wrap shirt that ties at the bottom. Perfect. I cross one side over the other and make a bow. Maybe he’ll imagine untying it.
A lot of my chest is showing, so I make it more dramatic by pulling my hair up and crafting an oversized messy bun with tendrils on either side of my forehead.
Then a long necklace with a teardrop that falls right between my boobs. That’ll draw his eye.
Will we stay late? Will I dance for him again? Could we actually have sex on the stage this time?
I don’t know. The Wild Hair might stay with us longer due to the conflict.
Even so, I switch to an electric blue thong, which would be fun to dance in.
Just thinking about it sends a rush through me. I’m already not sore anymore.
I want to do it again.
I open the drawer where the condoms were last night. The remaining string is still there. I fold them up and tuck them into my purse. Maybe Merrick is prepared, maybe not.
But I sure will be.
The roar of a motorcycle filters in from outside.
I hurry to the window. It faces the front of the club.
Sure enough, it’s Merrick.
I’d rather meet him out there and not get noticed by the others.
I close the door to the room and race to the front of the house.
Betz sits in the living room. “Where are you off to?”
I halt. “Merrick needs me at the bar.”
“Does he?” She sits up on the chair like she’s going to say something about it. “Who said you could do that?”
“I told her to go.”
We turn to see Iron Jack in the doorway. “Go along,” he says. “Merrick will watch out for you. I’m sure some other Wild Hair will be up there later.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I scurry out the door.
Merrick has only just stepped off the bike. When he sees me, he throws his leg back over. “You ready?”
I unlatch the second helmet from the back. “Absolutely.”
Flying down the highway toward the Leaky Skull is the most exhilarating ride yet. I stretch out my arms, my knees clamping against Merrick’s thighs, and let out a long, happy, “Whoooooo!”
Then I press my face against his back, closing my eyes, arms around him.
This is happy. This is perfection. This is where I’m meant to be. I drink in the moment. I won’t get attached. It’s not safe to do that. But I will soak it all up.
When we arrive at the bar, it’s silent and still.
“When’s Diesel coming?” I ask.
“Not until it gets busy,” Merrick says. “Only one of us opens.”
We leave our jackets in his office. When he opens up the drawer to lock up my purse, one of those wild thrills passes through me.
“When will the rest of the staff come?”
He glances at the digital bar clock on the wall. “It’ll be a good hour until Scottie and Jake clock in to prep.”
I open my purse and extract the string of condoms. “So, we have time?”
His eyebrows lift. “I thought you were sore.”
I sit on the corner of the desk. “I was, but now …” I dangle the wrappers in front of him.
He jerks them out of my hands and draws my body against his. “Any preferences?” he asks. “I’d say on this desk, but I’m pretty sure Diesel and Symphony have soiled this one.”
That makes me laugh. “I think you’re right.” I take his hand and lead him out to the kitchen. Nothing here looks good among the stacked boxes and industrial sinks.
We move into the bar itself, dark and quiet, with only the glow of the neon lighting the space. It’s eerie and almost surreal, a glowing dreamscape.
“Out here, for sure,” I tell him. “The stage maybe. Or the bar.” Then I get a wild, wild idea. Maybe it’s too much. Maybe I shouldn’t mention it. But the thrill rushing through me makes me say the words, anyway. “Do you have security cameras?”
Even in the low blue haze of the sign on the wall behind us, I see his slow grin. “Sure. One on the entrance, one on the cash register, and one on the back door.”
I look up above the bar to find the one there, but it’s too dark to see. I flip on only the lights behind the bar, leaving the tables and chairs in the dark.
And I see it, the round half-globe above us. “What can it see?” I ask.
“I rarely look at the footage to see the range,” he says. “It deletes itself every thirty days unless you go in and save it.”
“You can save the footage?” Maybe I ask that with a little too much excitement.
This makes him chuckle. “My exhibitionist wants evidence of her lusty ways?” He pulls me close with a hand on my lower back.
I connect with the front of him and immediately know that my idea isn’t a bad one. He’s stiff in those jeans, ready for me to pull him out.
“Is that too much?” Our faces are only inches apart.
“Not if next time we get to watch it while we do it again.”
Oh my God. Fire licks through me. “We can make our own sex tape?”
“Fuck yeah.”
I glance up. “As long as we’re near the cash register, it can see us, though, right?”