“A book babe will be good for him,” Stella says, giving me a genuine smile. “Shadow’s into that shit. Reading, bettering himself. Unlike some of the other jokers who just wanna fight and play video games.”
“Feeding time.” She grabs a baking sheet covered with pancakes and motions for me to join her. “Let’s eat.”
I eat at the bar with Stella, Jackie, and Cammy, while Shadow is still talking to Phantom and now Savage. I’ve learned a little about the structure of the club and what it means that Shadow is the vice president. Stella refills my coffee and recruits a couple of the late risers to work cleanup duty.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur. After breakfast, Stella and Cammy ask for my help planning dinner. All around the compound, people are chilling out, having fun, or finding ways to pass the time. It’s all starting to feel not just normal, but fun. I recognize more and more people as the day goes on, and I ask Stella anytime I have a question about who’s who.
“That’s a prospect,” she says, nodding to a guy who has his hand on the butt of a much older woman. “Watch this.” She tsks and shakes her head.
Not two seconds later, Savage, the guy who I believe is ex-military and who’s got the steely eyes and massive muscles to go with the reputation, crosses his arms over his chest and clears his throat.
The kid yanks his hand away like it’s on fire, and he practically falls over himself asking Savage what he should be doing. I don’t hear what Savage says, but it’s clear he’s messing with the kid. He cracks a huge grin then uses both hands to grab the butt of the same woman the young guy was messing around with.
Savage bursts out laughing, pulls the woman close and gives her a playful kiss on the lips, and then he hands her back to the younger guy.
“Prospect?” I ask, watching the exchange curiously.
“He’s not a member yet,” Stella explains. “Young guys or new guys hang around for a while, prove their worth, and then sometimes they get patched in—meaning they are officially members of the club.”
I have so many questions, but I’m a little embarrassed to ask. I know nothing about this world, but I want to learn. I take it all in but try not to be too nosey. “So, Savage is just messing with the younger guy?” I ask. “Or is that woman his girlfriend?”
Stella laughs. “No one says girlfriend. We’re bunnies until we’re locked down, and after that, we’re old ladies.”
I must make some kind of face because Stella leans forward and touches my arm.
“I’d rather be called a bunny or a piece of ass by someone who would kill anyone who dared to hurt me than be called baby by someone who enjoys hurting me. Maybe some women want that, but I’ll take crude honesty over pain and lies every day of the week.”
I look away from Stella and just nod. This bump on the path to my future is feeling more and more like destiny.
7
Shadow
“Jizzy, grab me another beer.” Hawk, his signature sunglasses on even at the dinner table, slaps the shoulder of one of the prospects. He’s laughing so hard, he can hardly get the words out. He actually has to lift the corner of his shades to wipe a tear from his eye.
One of the prospects jumps up from where he’s standing in the corner, eating a burger with one hand and holding his beer in the other. The kid jams the last few bites of burger into his mouth and hustles off toward the bar. “Anyone else?” he asks.
“I’ll take one, baby,” Jackie calls from a cushy spot on a recliner. She’s got a paper plate of food balanced in her lap.
“Fuck off, Jackie,” Jizz mutters.
Hawk shakes his head and shoots Jizz a look, and the kid grabs two beers from the fridge behind the bar. He hands one to Hawk, keeping his eyes toward the floor. Hawk pops the cap off the bottle with his thumb and takes a long sip while Jizz walks over to the recliner and motions for Jackie to get up. She does, and he sits down in her seat and motions for her to sit on his lap. She leans over and gives him a long kiss on the neck, then plops her ass onto his lap and shimmies so her tits bounce. Then he hands her the beer.
“So, you wanna tell the ladies how you got your nickname, or should I?” Hawk drains half the beer in three long pulls, then sets the bottle on the table.
The corner of my mouth curls into a smile. I may be the only one who’s heard this story as many times as I have, but it’ll be at least a year before Hawk gets sick of telling it. Or until Jizz is patched in and has earned a more respectable name.
I’m sitting across from Violet. Twelve of us fit in the chairs that surround the large wooden table, while prospects and club bunnies are scattered on couches and chairs, using tray tables for their paper plates of food just like we’re a family at a big Thanksgiving. A couple of the prospects run back and forth between the kitchen, taking orders to bring out more burgers, dogs, and buns from Penny.
It’s rare that we have this many people for a meal, but with the storm and so many of us locked down together, I made sure Violet got a chair close to me.
Phantom’s at the head, like a grim father looking over one very fucked-up family. He’s not smiling, but he almost never does. Savage paces the perimeter of the room, always keeping his eyes on shit. Stella sits next to Violet, and I notice her making an effort to talk to the sexy librarian and explain the jokes or details about the crew that an outsider wouldn’t know.
Stella’s good people.
I’m not surprised she’s taking Violet under her wing. What surprises me more is how at home Violet looks at the table.
Her innocent green eyes take it all in, her dark hair falling loose over her shoulders. One of them is bare where her slouchy shirt has fallen over to the side, revealing a thick bra strap. She was so scared of the storm but then so free on the hood of that GTO. She’s unpredictable.
