Chapter Seven
Iwantedtogohome.
Normally, I loved an adventure, but being unwelcome was not something I wanted to experience. I had never been hated before, by anyone really. I supposed that went to show just how much of a spoiled princess I really was. Everyone in my life had always doted on me, and to feel someone’s dislike grated roughly against my skin like sandpaper.
I couldn’t even blame Rex, as infuriating as he was. I knew, should the roles have been reversed and he was the one to fall through the mirror into my arms, that my family would treat him with even more hostility than he’d shown me.
It did not, however, mean that it stung any less to be rejected by him.
I let out a soft sob and pressed my face into the soft blankets of my nest. I wanted to be home in my own nest, not underneath this cheap cardboard structure.
Someone knocked gently on the door to my room.
“Go away,” I managed, irritated by the wobble in my voice.
There was a beat of silence before an unfamiliar feminine voice came through the door.
“Dearie, I know you’re probably all kinds of scared right now. What, with that big scary asshole downstairs yelling at you and all. But we’re here to help you get out of that death trap of a dress and into comfier clothes… how does that sound?” the voice asked coaxingly.
I wanted to ignore her and roll over and try to get some sleep, but the boning of my corsetwasdigging painfully into my sides. So, with some difficulty, I rolled to my knees and crawled out of my nest. I took a moment to wipe my tears away, wishing I had a cool washcloth to soothe the swelling, but that would have to wait.
As I opened the door, I was greeted by three curious, but warm beta women. They all looked older, their hair in varying stages of graying and they had lines along their mouths and eyes. They were also all dressed in form-fitting trousers and shirts, which surprised me the most. I wasn’t used to seeing women in trousers.
The women at the tea parties I attended with my mother used to titter quietly about the women who worked in the factories to manufacture supplies to aid in the war efforts wearing trousers. Trousers were generally frowned upon by the women in polite society.
I had never tried them before, but looking at the women in front of me now, I definitely wanted to. Especially after having been trapped in my dress for two days.
“Hello, lovely,” the tallest of the three said, giving me a friendly smile. She was a stunning woman with dark brown skin and warm hazel eyes. Her tightly curled hair was cropped close to her head and it was the shortest hair I’d ever seen on another woman.
“I don’t know if I believed Rex’s story until now, Legs,” the shortest of the three women said. She was an older Asian woman with chin length black hair and a plumper build. She carefully reached out, making sure that I wasn’t going to spook, and pressed a soft hand to my face. It was so motherly that I almost wanted to burst into tears again. The woman, seeing my face start to crumple, pulled my hands into hers and gave them a squeeze. “Hey now, sweetheart, don’t cry. Did those big, scary alphas throw you into this room because they didn’t know what else to do with you?”
I nodded, causing the three women to tut and mutter threats under their breath as they began to fuss around me.
The third woman finally stepped into the room, bringing in the faintest scent of cinnamon in with her. She looked around the space with a frown. “They didn’t even give her a proper nesting space, look at that cardboard fort our girl had to make instead,” she gasped disapprovingly, scrunching her freckled nose and tossing her long silver braid over one shoulder.
The three women took over from there, quickly introducing themselves to me. The tallest was called Legs, the motherly one was named Wren, and the one in the middle with the silver braid was Taz.
“Are those your real names?” I asked as they circled me, trying to figure out how to get me out of my dress.
Taz threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, heavens no, I was born a Charlotte. But when I got together with my husband he nicknamed me Taz. Legs and Wren came by their names similarly within the club.”
As Taz spoke, Legs let out a frustrated sigh. “I know we’re chicks and all, but even I don’t know how to get this contraption off of you,” she commented, tugging on one of the ribbons on the back of my dress.
“I’m googling it now,” Wren said, whipping a slender black square out of her pocket. It looked similar to the one that Podcast had, but it was completely covered with little paper images. It was a cell phone, I reminded myself, trying to commit the new word to memory.
I had so many questions that I had been unable to ask the men. They all used new words and terms that were almost impossible for me to keep up with.
“What club?” I asked, finally settling on my biggest question. I wasn’t sure why Taz would need a new name if she was in a club.
“A motorcycle club, lovely,” Legs said as she glanced back and forth between whatever Wren was showing her and my back as she began to pluck at the strings. “Do you know what a motorcycle is?”
I did, well, mostly. Nicky had pointed them out to me when I was visiting him in the city. He wanted to purchase one for himself, but knew our mother would faint dead if she ever saw him riding on one. They were like bicycles, but much, much faster. “I do,” I told them, my voice still sounding a little unsure.
Taz sat in front of me so I could see her face while she spoke. “Well you might hear us talking about an MC, or a motorcycle club. It’s basically a group of individuals that get together to ride motorcycles.”
“And get into other seedy shit,” Legs snorted sarcastically as I felt another button snap open on my dress.
Taz frowned before shaking her head and mouthing the word ‘stop,’ to the other woman.
