Cookie was older, probably in his fifties, tall with tattoos that covered his arms and went up his neck. He had patches on his cut as well, one of them read, “Vice President,” so I assumed he was someone important. His dark hair was peppered with gray and he had a big bushy beard that worked very well for him.
I smiled and reached my hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
He gave me a sexy grin and stared at my hand long enough for me to lower it and feel like an idiot. I moved closer to Austin, who wrapped an arm around me.
“You too, babe,” he said, and turned toward the big room behind him. “Mags!”
“What?” A blonde woman with big hair and tiny clothes revealed herself from another doorway and walked over to him. Cookie pulled her into a passionate and borderline inappropriate grope session before grinning and facing us again.
“My old lady,” Cookie said. “Mags, meet Booker’s new woman. Dani.”
Mags glanced at Austin and then me. “It’s nice to meet you, honey,” she said, her gravelly voice indication she probably smoked.
“We brought a few things,” I said. “Where would you like them?”
She smiled. “What kinds of things?”
“Just some beer and wine, a few snack things and dessert.”
“That was really nice of you.” Mags raised an eyebrow at Cookie. “Wasn’t that nice of Dani?”
“Yeah,” Cookie said, slowly. “Real nice.”
“Why don’t you come with me, Dani?” Mags said, and took a second to kiss Austin on the cheek. “I’ll show you where everything goes.”
“Um... I...”
Austin handed Mags the grocery bag and beer, and leaned down to kiss me. “I’ll find you in a minute.”
I gave him a look I both hoped no one else saw, and that he took to heart. We’d been inside for barely a second and he was already ungluing himself from my side.
He chuckled and slid his hand to my neck. “One minute, baby.”
I said nothing, considering it was either that or make a scene, and followed Mags through the door she’d entered from and into a large common room milling with people. The space was filled with sofas, overstuffed chairs, a pool table, large flat-screen television, several smaller tables that kids gathered around for board games, and three outdoor picnic tables.
Rough and ready looking men and women, all of whom you’d expect to see at a biker bar, laughed and drank, chased after kids, made out in the corner, or shot pool... all while smoking. The men wore jeans, boots, and cuts and the women wore a variety of biker chic attire, all of which were absolutely nothing like me or the people I hung out with. I felt like I’d been transported onto some form of a movie set full of extras.
I also couldn’t have felt more out of place had I been abducted by aliens. Although, I did have a weird and ungracious thought that an alien spacecraft was probably cleaner and smelled better.
“Comin’?” Mags asked, already a few feet in front of me.
“Oh, yes. Sorry,” I said, and rushed to catch up to her.
She led me into a commercial grade kitchen where another group of women were chugging beer and pulling out hamburger and hotdog buns, condiments, and bags of chips.
“Everyone, this is Dani,” Mags said. “Booker’s woman.”
The group stopped what they were doing. And I mean, stopped. All of a sudden, I had ten sets of eyes on me, most curious, but one pissed. She was tall, probably five-foot-eight, dark hair with a purple strip dyed down the side and just like the rest of the ladies in the room, her hair was big. She wore a black pair of leather pants, a strapless bustier, and four-inch hooker boots. She looked like a porn star complete with fake eyelashes and even faker boobs.
I smiled, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “Hi.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Susie.” A woman close to my height separated herself from the group and made her way to me. She was blonde like me, only not as natural as she might have been in her prime. She wore jeans, a low-cut T-shirt, and a vest that had “Property of Crow” on a patch. “I’m Crow’s old lady.”
“And my sister,” Mags said.
I deduced Susie was the matriarch, because the rest of the ladies rallied around to introduce themselves to me, but not until Susie had led the way. Even the angry one pasted on a fake smile and introduced herself. Her name was Tiffany, but she told me to call her “Tiff.” I tried not to throw up in my mouth.
“Dani brought a few things,” Mags said, and lifted the bag onto the stainless-steel island.
