Page 44 of Healed

“You wouldn’t begrudge an injured man a drink, would you ladies?” he said, bestowing his best smile on them.

“Hair buddy, you are the man of the hour, the man of the night, the man… well. That’s all I’ve got,” Rachel replied.

“I knew it. So a pint please, woman.”

“Of course,” she said, pouring him the pint without any funny business. She handed it to him, but just as he went to take it from him, she pulled it out of reach. “With some strict rules.”

“Not the rules,” Vienna moaned, face planting the surface of the bar.

“Yes. Rules. You are to drink this slowly. Jenna will be bringing you small bits of food every fifteen minutes and I expect you to eat it.”

Without lifting his head from the bar, he tried to reach out for the pint, but Rachel simply stepped back. She placed her spare hand to his forehead and pushed his head up slightly. “You will be allowed a maximum of three drinks all night—no spirits. You are to take your painkillers as and when Doc tells you to, and you will do so without complaining.”

Vienna groaned again.

“You will also sit right here where I can see you. You will not move too much, you will not talk too much, in fact, you won’t even make much noise. I want you to—”

“Not be your annoying fucking self,” One of the old ladies interrupted.

“Thank you, Jade,” Rachel laughed. “As Jade has so eloquently put it, you are to not be so… you. Do you agree to my rules?”

Vienna sat up—sulkily, with his arms folded and a massive pout on his lips—and muttered his agreement.

“What was that?” Rachel asked, moving the pint further away, some of the liquid sloshing over the side. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said fine!”

“There’s a good boy.”

She placed the pint in front of him, watching as he took a sip.

“Just a tiny bit,” he muttered, showing her the remaining pint. She shot him a nasty glance and then went to take someone else’s order.

The old ladies then spent the remainder of the evening drinking a lot, laughing loudly, arguing, bickering, and answering the men back.

The leader of the Manchester charter had tried to question Dante over this—which someone called Greg advised him against. Rachel overheard and threw a lemon at him, Gemma spiked his next drink with a whole jar of salt, and he quickly learned then to leave them to it.

And if I were being honest, this really helped shift some of my resentment towards the club. Sure, the men were still being standoffish with me—especially people like Hacksaw, Trent, Chris, Doc, Tools, and Sunshine, all of whom had been there that night. But it was clear they adored their women. And it was clear that the women had steadily gathered up the reins until they were more than just “old ladies” and actually had a purpose here.

“Oi, new girl,” a voice came from behind me, making me jump.

I spun around in my chair to see the entire group of old ladies standing behind the bar, all crowding around me and my small stool.

“Her name is Gabriella, Bird. Be nice,” Rachel said, pushing herself forward.

“I’m feeling a bit like a caged animal here, would you mind backing up just a little—”

“Are you joining?” Steph interrupted me, holding up three bottles of Dead Man’s Finger.

“I really don’t think I should.”

“Nonsense,” Rachel waved me away. “You’ve been on your own all day. Come and have fun with us.”

“I—”

“I’ll do the introductions,” she interrupted again. “Obviously you know me. I’m the leader of our Sin club. Jenna here is Shark’s old lady. She is our princess and co-founder.”

Rachel reached through the crowd of women, somehow managing to grab hold of Jenna and pulled her forward. Her purple hair and lip rings stood out immediately, and she flashed me a drunken, if not sad, smile.