She shrugs. “It’s okay, you just need to snag yourself a member who will take pity on you, and make you his Ol’ Lady, then you won’t have to worry anymore.”
There wasn’t a man in the club that I wanted to be connected to like that. “The good ones are all taken,” I mumble, eventhough that was only half true. Even the ones with significant Ol’ Ladies still had their fun, taking the rest of us whenever they felt like getting their dicks wet.
“It’s only a matter of time. I heard they’re incorporating a new member today. He doesn’t even have to be a prospect or earn his place, it was just handed to him.”
“How’s that possible?”
She shrugs as she heavily applies some foundation to the circles and bags underneath my eyes.It helps… kind of.
“Apparently, he’s highly connected to Moseley.”
“Oh,” I say quietly, my skin crawling at the thought.
I’m not exactly Moseley’s biggest fan. He’s a pervert, and a bit of a womanizer. He’s Warden’s uncle and thinks he owns the club. Maybe in some way he does, but that doesn’t mean the fat pig gets to touch me. That shit is not happening.
Eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow and blush are painted onto my face, covering the pick-pox and making me almost look normal. She fishes a long sleeve black top that’s partially see-through and throws it over a red polka dot shirt, pairing it all with a short red skirt that’s just as revealing as hers before handing it to me.
“Wear this. You’ll definitely turn some heads tonight.” Gina smiles proudly as I disappear into the stall and come back out wearing her clothing. “You look hot, Poppy.”
For a second, I believe her, until I turn toward the mirror and stare blankly at the stranger blinking back at me.
Imposter syndrome is definitely a thing.
“Come on,” she orders, grabbing my hand to pull me toward the door.
Most of the guys have already left for the club Moseley purchased, but a few of them hung back to give the girls a ride. Mostly prospects and a few lower-ranking members.
Sol gives me the once over, smiling in approval. “Looking good, ladies,” he says cooly, smoothing his long mop of jet-black hair out with his big beefy hands. It’s strictly forbidden for prospects to put the moves on us, but if I had one that I’d let it happen with, it definitely be Sol.
He winks at me as he holds the door open for the cage, which is what bikers call all vehicles with walls that aren’t motorcycles.
It takes us almost an hour to get to the club, but when we do, it’s packed with people. A private event just for our club and its affiliates.
Warden’s already there with his girl, Sammie, that I’m not exactly fond of. There’s something about her that seems off to me, but Warden’s obsessed with her.
“Ugh, they’re disgusting,” Gina growls, just as Warden manhandles Sammie’s ass and shoves his tongue aggressively down her throat.
“You’re just jealous,” I quip, catching her off guard.
“Shut up. Before she came along, I was his favorite. Now he barely sees me.”
“Face it, Gina. Once you become a club whore, you stay one.”
“Club bunny!” she shouts. “I’m no one’s whore.”
But she is, just as much as the rest of us. We are all equally used and abused around here.
“You still upset about Jericho?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Not really. The man’s always been about money. The second I was no longer of use to him; he got rid of me.”
“At least Warden took you in.”
“True, living in the clubhouse is a lot better than that dinky warehouse space I was living in. At least I have a room now and earn my keep with everyone else.”
She smiles just as Lockjaw passes by, grabs her hand, and pulls her onto the dance floor. “Come on, Gina, let’s dance.”
The big meathead is all over her the second they’re on the floor, hands roaming, not giving two fucks who sees them. I try to look away, but it’s hard. It reminds me of the night Wesley got locked up.
