Klara smiled gently. “Oh yes. Jenny right?”
God I love her.
“Jeannie,” she answered.
Klara nodded. “Right. So sorry. I remember them because they were all at the wedding. But I don’t recall seeingyou there.”
I squeezed her thigh. I loved her, but for some reason, these women loved Jeannie.
Klara apparently didn’t care. “Katya, darling.” She glanced over. “Look at how cute with your matching shirts.” She looked across the table. “Where’s yours?” she asked Jeannie.
“Maybe it’s whereKatya’scut is.”
My brows pinched. Daisy and Lacy stared at Jeannie with wide eyes. Kristie sipped her drink, her eyes everywhere but the table, her thick waves shielding most of her face.
“Her what?” Klara asked.
Lacy grabbed her drink. “Maybe we should go to the fire pit. It’s so stuffy in here.”
Kristie jumped up and Daisy stood, still watching Jeannie carefully.
I put my hand up. “Really quick, though. What was that supposed to mean?” I asked.
Jeannie smirked and Daisy gripped her shoulder. “Let’s go outside, Jeannie.”
Jeannie shrugged. “I was just commenting that I don’t have a fun shirt from the rally, but it doesn’t make you an Old Lady any more than I am. Only a patch does. And patches are on the cuts. But I haven’t seen you wear one. Did I miss the ceremony?”
Lacy looked like she was going to be sick. Kristie no longer looked nervous, but confused. But it was aimed at Jeannie, not me.
Daisy hissed. “That’s enough, Jeannie.”
Looking around at the men in their vests, it started to click. Mama Hen wore one sometimes. Daisy, Lacy, Shiv, and Kristie had worn one. But Sugar had never worn one. Jeannie never had worn one. All the other bunnies walking around the clubhouse never had one. Only the ones that were officially paired up, married or not.
My chest rose and fell with deep breaths as heat climbed up my throat.
Jeannie stood, grabbing her bottle. “I’m going, I’m going.”
They all went out the front door, leaving me and Klara alone. Klara pulled out her phone and typed something. “Oh.”
“Let me see.”
My eyes scanned over the explanation of what a patch was for a woman in a motorcycle club. My face burned as I read.
“She’s a bitch,” Klara said. “I don’t like her.”
Looking across the room, I glared at Hawk. But his men were all around. My fist balled.
“Katya, are you alright?” Klara asked.
“No.” I stood, grabbing my glass tumbler. Looking down, I decided against that, but drank the remaining vodka and slammed the glass.
Klara was right behind me as I stormed outside. The sun was melting behind the tree line but still giving plenty of light. The women were having a heated discussion as I approached. Kristie saw me coming first and mouthed, “Oh shit,” then pokedat Daisy.
Daisy crossed her arms and stepped back. Lacy turned around, putting her hands up. “Katya, just go back inside.”
Klara said, “You may want to move, darling.”
Jeannie walked around Lacy and held her arms out. “I was just waiting. C’mon then.”
