I try to process everything once he’s gone. I know one thing – I’m fucked.
I sit on my bed, in my nearly empty room, scrolling my phone. Maybe, a number will pop up and that person can magically save me? Or, at least get me out of the mess I’m in. But, there’s no one like that around. Because, when it comes down to it, people only look out for themselves. The little clock next to my bed beeps, and I realize I haven’t dressed yet.
I’m about to look in my dresser for something to wear when there’s another knock on my door. My stomach churns as I cross the room.
I call out, “Who is it?”
I’ve already made the mistake once today, assuming.
“It’s Michelle, from down the hall. Hey, there’s a hot guy at front door, asking for you. Wasn’t sure if I should let him in.”
“A hot guy?”
“Yeah. He rode up on a badass motorcycle.”
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
I grab my keys and phone, heading downstairs. Sure enough, when I step outside, I see Bash leaning against the entryway. He straightens when he sees me.
“Hey.”
“Hey there. Is something wrong?”
“Saint asked me to give you a lift, since I was on this side of town.”
“Oh. That’s very kind.” I look down at my jeans a t-shirt. “I think this might be too casual to wear to work.”
He looks me over until I feel warm.
“You look hot. You could wear a potato sack and still make it work.”
That makes me laugh. “Thanks, Bash.”
“I mean it.” He gives me another look over. “Total babe.”
Not knowing what to do, I say, “We’ll, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”
He surprises me by taking me by the hand. It feels normal as we walk toward the parking lot. I’m a little sad he doesn’t have his car, but the bike he has is impressive. He hands me a helmet and puts his own on, before climbing onto the bike. I climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his chest. I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.
He takes off, going slower than Saint and Razor did, but I like it. The wind blows in my face and I tilt my head up, looking at the night sky. That’s one thing about Savannah that I’ll miss when I finally leave. Oh, there’s nothing set in stone, but one of these days I’m finally going to get the fuck out of here and set out on my own.
Bash turns his head and calls out, “You good?”
“Yeah.”
He takes the road that leads to the clubhouse. As we pull up, I wonder how I didn’t see it before? This is clearly not a bar or regular dance club. Motorcycles and badass cars are everywhere, along with the men who own them. The few women that I see aren’t dressed like the women at the clubs I’ve been to, either. It makes me wonder what else I’m wrong about.
Bash pulls his bike into the shop, parking it next to his car. I climb off, handing him the helmet after he stands.
“I don’t usually park in here, but there’s a chance of rain tonight.”
“Afraid your bike will melt?”
He lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah.”
He’s gorgeous when he laughs, and I find myself smiling up at him.
“Come on. Let’s go before Saint sends out a search party.”
He throws his arm around my shoulder as we go toward the clubhouse. In the distance, lightning flickers in the dark clouds. Guess he wasn’t wrong about a chance of rain.
We enter through the side door and Bash walks me to the bar. Jas is leaning against it, texting. When she sees us, she stands.
“Hey you two.” Her eyes dance with merriment as she looks at his arm still around my shoulder. “I didn’t realize you two were a thing.”
“Oh, we’re-”
Bash cuts me off and says, “Just enjoying the newness of it, Jas. Didn’t think it’d matter to anyone.”
She replies, “There’s a few women around here who might care, Bash, but good for you. You two suit each other.”
Someone calls her name and she grabs a bottle of whiskey, heading to them. When she’s gone, Bash laughs, shaking his head.
“What was that all about?”
He replies, “Saint wants to make sure the other guys don’t bother you. I figure, if they think we’re together, then they’ll leave you alone. For a while, at least.”
“Oh.” I think. “Why for just a while?”
His smile falters a little. “Because sooner or later the guys will expect to see proof.”
“As in?”
“A patch or even a tattoo or brand.”
“Oh.”
He shrugs. “Like I said, it’ll buy you some time.”
“Well, thanks.”
“No problem.” He looks at his phone and says, “I have to take this, but I’ll be back. And don’t worry – Psycho isn’t here tonight.”
I nod and watch him head out the doors, phone to his ear. Jas makes her way around the room and a few of the guy shoot glances my way, but no one comes over. It makes me wonder what she’s saying to them.
Jas comes back with a tray full of empties and says, “I just knew there was a reason you wanted a job here. How long have you and Bash been banging?”
Well, that answers that question.
“Uh, not very long.”
“Is he as amazing in bed as I think he’d be?”
“Oh yeah. The best.”
She grins. “I knew it. He doesn’t ever mess around with anyone here, so having you around is definitely a first.”
I nod. “That’s cool.”
“We’ll have to gossip more later. I’m sure Karma is going to be spitting nails when she finds out. She’s had her eyes on him for years.”
“Karma?”
“One of the club whores. Don’t worry. Bash won’t let her do anything to you.”
I’m really starting to feel like I should google the dynamics of a motorcycle club. Maybe if I get a break…
She goes on, “I better get back out there. Holler if you need to step away from the bar.”
Even though it’s a Saturday night, the club isn’t as busy as it’s been the past few nights. I wipe down the bar top and make sure everything is restocked. Since no one’s coming up to me, I have a lot of time to people watch. Again, I’m not sure how I mistook this for a gay club. Well, other than the hairy men and all of the leather. That part could definitely go either way.
Making sure no one is looking, I pull my phone from my pocket and google what a motorcycle club is. Holy cow, there are a ton of results. I skim through the first few, trying to put together bits and pieces. There’s an article about the vests, or cuts, that some of the guys are wearing. Each patch means something different, which I guess is what Bash meant when he said people would expect to see me wearing his patch sooner or later. It’s basically claiming me as his, which doesn’t sound as bad as one would think.
There are a few books that show up in the search bar and I download them right to my phone. Hey, they might be fiction, but maybe I’ll learn a thing or two. I then search what a club whore is. Okay, that one is more obvious. The club whores are women who hang around or live at the clubhouse. Their purpose – to service the men. Kudos to them, I guess, because I don’t think I could do something like that for free.