“You would know,” Bonnie mutters.
Anya cuts a chilly glare Bonnie’s way, but drops into her seat without another word.
Charlotte side-eyes Bonnie. “Something similar could be said for the ladies, I suppose. Taking a ton of dick doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a satisfying lay.”
“Oh, fuck!” Ravage slaps the table. “Charlotte, you’re savage.”
“Fuuuuck,” Stash says. “That’s so true.”
Bonnie pushes away from the table and stomps out of the dining room.
Charlotte shrugs. “We were trying to have an enlightening conversation,” she slides her gaze toward Ravage and Stash, “that could benefit her in the long run and she had to ruin it by being catty.”
Rav scratches the side of his head and turns toward Stash. “Did she just insult us?”
“No,” Stash says. “Not really.”
Anya rolls her shoulders and lifts her chin. “Whatever, I’m used to it.”
We’re quiet for a few seconds, all shooting each other looks, desperately trying to come up with a new topic.
“How were the toys we ordered, Anya?” Heidi asks.
Not the greatest shift in conversation, but at least it smooths over the awkwardness.
“Great! Let me know when you have your Winter catalog, I’ll definitely order more.”
“Oh, shit. Did you expand your sex toy empire to Virginia, Heidi?” Stash asks.
“Why do you care?” Charlotte asks. “I thought you said, ‘real men don’t need sex toys’?”
“I may have revised my opinion on this issue.” He folds his arms over his chest and sits back.
Heidi and Charlotte flash wide-eyed smug smiles at each other.
Sparky raises his hand high and waves it around. “We need more of those buzzy cock rings for the new clubhouse, Heidi!”
Heidi briefly closes her eyes and smiles. “I’m going to get the biggest bonus this year.”
“This is turning into more than a side hustle, Heidi,” I point out.
“I’m so proud of my baby sister,” her brother deadpans.
“You have no one to blame but yourself, big brother.” Heidi points down the table at him.
An amused smile curves his lips. “Yeah? How’s that?”
“You always stressed the importance of being financially independent when I was growing up.”
“Zing!” Murphy punches Teller’s shoulder.
“Touché, Heidi.” Teller tucks his chin to his chest, hiding his laughter. “You got me there.”
“I’ll be damned.” Rock whistles loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. “Did Knucklehead admit he’s wrong?”
The guys focus their badgering on Teller, leaving us free to return to our conversation.
Long after dessert’s been served and lots of coffee has been consumed, Rooster rests his hand on my shoulder.
I peer up at him.
“Long ride tomorrow. You want to head upstairs?”
I’ve been having so much fun with the girls, I didn’t realize how late it was. “Sure.” I glance at the table. “Let me help them clean up, though.”
“Not tonight.” Trinity waves me off. “You’re not allowed in the kitchen the night you’ve been patched. It’s a rule.”
From the way the girls laugh, I suspect Trinity’s spinning a yarn.
“Tomorrow morning,” I promise, rising from my chair.
It’s another half hour before we leave the dining room. We stop and talk to almost everyone.
I’m full—of good food and warm feelings.
The ache of losing my sister will always be with me.
But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong to a different kind of sisterhood.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Rooster
“Holy moly.” Shelby whistles as she hops off the back of my bike and takes off her helmet. “This place is something else.”
She’s not kidding. Chaser and Mallory’s house can only be described as some sort of modern castle nestled way in the woods of Western New York.
Z’s boots crunch over the pale stone driveway as he approaches us.
“Has the Demons-Kings’ relationship reached a new level?” I ask. “We’ve never been invited to Chaser’s house before, have we?”
“We haven’t. Rock probably has at some point.” He shrugs. “Chaser hasn’t been president long. And this is more of a personal, family event than a club party.”
Family event or not, prospects are stationed at the front doors. I can’t imagine anyone invited to this party doesn’t know Chaser’s an MC president.
Chaser and Mallory meet us near the front door.
“Welcome,” Chaser says, greeting us in order of our rank.
Mallory hugs Lilly, taking her hands and talking to her for a few seconds. She smiles and embraces Hope, giving her the same welcoming treatment.
“Shelby!” Angelina speeds through the grand foyer to get to us. “I’m so excited you’re here.”
They squee and hug like it’s been years instead of a couple of weeks since they last saw each other.
Chaser watches them for a few seconds with a smile before extending his hand to me. “Welcome. Good to see you in New York.”
“Thank you for inviting us.”
Mallory leads the ol’ ladies somewhere for them to change into the fancier clothes they brought.
“You can come upstairs with me.” Angelina tugs on Shelby’s hand. “I’ll return her to you in a bit, Rooster.”
“Thanks.”
Chaser’s son Dylan walks us through the house to a large rectangular courtyard. Strings of lights dangle from trees. Several long tables have been set up in the middle.
Careful attention was given to the seating. Chaser’s club brothers and family are spread out at the center table. Lost Kings have an entire table to the right. On the left, the table seems to be a mix of music industry types and gangsters related to Mallory’s father.
Dylan steers us toward a corner of our table that’s closest to the family’s. “I think my sister wants you and Shelby to sit here,” he explains.
“Thanks.”
I scan the vast courtyard, my gaze landing on one of the many fountains. Z, Rock, Murphy, Chaser, and Chaser’s VP are standing in a loose circle in front of the stone angel spewing water into a basin below.
Z catches my eye and subtly tilts his head, indicating I should get my ass over there.
As I approach, I notice a lean, tattooed guy with dark hair similar to Chaser’s looming behind him.
“Rooster,” Chaser greets as I take my place next to Z. “Obviously, this party is of a personal nature but since everyone’s here, I want to introduce you to my brother.” He slaps the tall, dark-haired guy on the shoulder. “Quill.”
“Half-brother,” Quill says, his Adam’s apple moving under the detailed Lion tattoo inked into his throat.
My gaze shoots to Rock, then Z. I’ve seen that lion somewhere before but can’t place it. Rock’s utterly calm, almost indifferent, as he shakes Quill’s hand. The guy has to be closer to Z’s age than Chaser’s. Not sure what the story is or why we’re meeting him now.