Thrash (9 page)

“
Fuck you,” Duke says. He
sounds occupied. “Get your own pussy.”

Ryan’s shoulders shake
with laughter. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I’m a Lost Girl,
not his Old Lady. I know better than to assume anything with these
guys. It doesn’t matter how much I know better than to have come
here and asking for Duke, it doesn’t make the humiliation and
frustration any easier to deal with. I left Darren and the bar so I
could be here and feel better. I figured maybe Duke and I could
hook up again and for a little while I could make like he means the
words he says, and I could feel like I belong. I didn’t always want
to—belong that is—but once I started babysitting Chel’s kid and we
got closer, I I ended up spending more time here. It was so natural
that I nearly didn’t even realize what I was becoming until I’d
already become it. And now I’m here, feeling like the biggest fool
on earth for thinking I fit in well enough to handle this shit with
Duke without getting hurt. I am an idiot.

A few very long, very
brutal moments pass before Ryan steps forward, giving me the worst
fucking view imaginable. Duke’s back is propped up against the arm
of the sofa, facing the other direction, and I let out a silent
sigh of relief. He can’t see me here—not when I feel like this. His
short blond hair is slicked back tonight. It’s barely a few inches
long, but it’s in that awkward place where it falls in his eyes,
but isn’t quite long enough to tuck behind his ears. Above him on
the sofa, straddling his legs, is Dawn. She’s a Lost Girl, too. But
she takes it to a whole other level. I don’t think I can name a
single club member she hasn’t slept with. Even Jim had a go at her
during one of his and Ruby’s fights a few years back. It wasn’t
pretty, but now Ruby avoids the clubhouse even when Jim invites her
to come to a party, and Dawn knows better than to say a word to
her.

Dawn’s naked form moves up
and down as slowly as she can. Her arms are stretched out before
her, resting atop Duke’s chest. Her eyes are focused on him, making
my voyeurism all that much more invasive. Ryan waits another beat
and then leans down and whispers in my ear, “Enjoy the show,
bitch.”

Then he quietly walks away, giving me a
pat on my boob as he goes. The farther away he gets, the more I
want to stay here and cement this moment in my mind.

She lifts herself up,
biting her lower lip, and then shudders as she lowers herself.
Duke’s hands are at her hips, guiding her. She moves above him,
making herself mewl and coo at her own movements. The most
involvement I can see from Duke is that he’s keeping his hands in
place and letting her use his dick for her own pleasure. She tosses
her head back as one of her fingers finds her center and makes
small, fast circles. Her skin breaks out in goose bumps at the
exact moment that I think I’m going to be sick. My stomach rolls in
disgust—not at the act itself, but in jealousy. A little over a
month ago that was me straddling Duke’s lap. It was me mewling and
yearning for more from him. It was me trying to tell myself that
fucking Duke really was just fucking and it didn’t mean anything.
But then he left and he didn’t really come back. A week-long trip
across the country and he was back in town, but he wasn’t back
here—not with me at least.

After he’d claimed me in his room, I
decided that I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. I wasn’t going
to be one of those stupid bitches who got all sad and weepy over
the fucked up shit these guys do. I know it as well now as I did
the first time I attended a party here—Lost Girls are club whores.
We show up to fuck, and to have fun with, but at the end of the
night the guys still go home to their wives and girlfriends. After
they leave here they check and make sure their kids are tucked into
bed, and they might even make love to their wives. We’re the
entertainment, and they’re the commitment.

And it isn’t until this
moment that I realize how entirely fucked it was to sleep with
Duke. And it’s here in this moment that I promise myself to never
be this stupid again. So I stand here and I watch. I watch as Duke
reaches behind her back and grabs her by the hair, yanking her head
backward. I watch as he tells her to stop going slow and to get
with the program. She makes a sound of displeasure, but I doubt he
gives a shit. She’s no better than cattle in this moment. And
neither am I.

So, I decide I’m done
after tonight.

Duke grips Dawn’s hips firmly and
roughly slams her down onto him. Her eyes fly open and she catches
my gaze. I want to turn and run. I want to flee before he realizes
I’m here, too. But he doesn’t notice. Instead, he keeps ramming
into her again and again. Sweat starts at her hairline and drips
down her face, onto her breasts, and even onto his stomach. She
holds on as best she can as he pummels her hard and unrelenting.
She keeps her eyes on me, and I think she might enjoy the attention
I’m giving her. Every time her mouth makes this little “O” shape, I
feel it in my gut. It churns around in there, looking for a home,
and eventually settles in and hardens my heart. Slowly but surely,
I can feel my emotions shutting down until all I feel is the air
conditioning as it kicks on. When the pain subsides and I’m no
longer teaching myself a lesson, I decide that I’ve seen
enough.

As I turn and walk away, leaving Duke
with his whore and Dawn with her bastard, I don’t feel an ounce of
regret or sadness. I just feel empty.

Chapter 7

Halfway through the main
room of the clubhouse, I catch Diesel’s eye. He’s at a table with
some chick on his lap. Everything looks kind of fuzzy and all over
the place. I scrunch my eyes together to keep the gut-wrenching
disappointment from showing on my face. But it’s too late. Diesel’s
seen something and he’s honed in on me. He pats the chick’s ass and
gives her a push off his lap and strides over to me.

In the back of my head I’m
telling myself to move and leave—just get the fuck out—but my feet
don’t make the attempt. Maybe I’m tired of being chased, or maybe I
know better than to run from Diesel. It’s not like there’s anything
he could possibly do to me that’s worse than anything else I’ve
experienced today.

Today is, officially, the worst day of
my life.

There won’t be another day
that’s this bad, I swear it. Because I won’t let anything else ever
hurt like this. I refuse. I flat out fucking refuse to let anyone
else have this kind of power over me. I did so well for so
long—keeping people at bay—but then this. I gave him a chance and
this is what happens.

“
You’re being weird,”
Diesel says as he grips my hips. “What’s wrong?”

“
Nothing,” I lie. His lips
form a thin line, and he lowers his shaved head to meet my
eyes.

“
I know what Ryan did,” he
says, and I tense up. Just because I stood there and watched the
entire act doesn’t mean I want to relive it right now. I can see
the shape of Dawn’s pouty lips as they form that “O” as she slides
down Duke’s dick. That’s one image I don’t think is ever going to
go away.

“
It’s nothing,” I say, but
still he doesn’t budge.

“
If it’s something to you,
it’s something. Come on,” Diesel says. He places his hand on my
lower back and guides me down the hall toward one of the spare
bedrooms. Since Diesel doesn’t have an officer position within the
club, he doesn’t have his own room here. Not that it matters—all of
the rooms are in need of a serious cleaning. I walk compliantly
into the room. It doesn’t even matter what Diesel has to say or
wants to do. I don’t know that I can feel any worse than I do right
now.

The spare room is
identical in size to Duke’s and has close to the same
furniture—bed, side table, and a dresser. I crawl onto the bed and
curl into the corner, grabbing one of the two pillows and hugging
it. Diesel shuts the door and walks over. He sits down on the edge
of the bed and clasps his hands together. His voice is deep when he
coughs, likely clearing his lungs from toking up on the bong. He
reeks of weed. “What happened?” he asks.

“
You don’t want to know,”
I say. The truth is that Diesel never asks questions he doesn’t
want an answer to, so if he’s asking me what happened, he actually
gives a shit. I blow out a breath and hug the pillow tighter, like
maybe if I keep squeezing, it’ll provide some kind of comfort. It
doesn’t.

“
Tell me,” he says. I
could ask him to leave me alone to let me cry it out, but I don’t
want to shed a single tear over that bastard. I give myself a
moment to collect my thoughts before I speak.

“
Duke’s in the game room
with Dawn,” I say. Taking a few more deep breaths, I clear my head
and just spill it all like this huge, tattooed, muscled man with
the shaved head is Chel and we’re out to breakfast talking shit.
“He fucked me and claimed me, and that was months ago. So I did as
I was supposed to do and I stayed away from the club, but that crap
this morning at my work? Then the crap this afternoon. I just… I’m
done. And after every awful, horrible, fucked up, mean thing he did
I still came here looking for him.”

“
Dick,” Diesel says with a
nod of his head. He turns toward me and scratches behind his neck.
I let out a frustrated laugh and let my arms flutter into the
air.

“
You’re preaching to the
choir,” I say. “I just... I don’t get it.”

“
This one of those things
where you just want to bitch about shit, or you want it fixed?” he
asks.

“
Fixed, but I got a
feeling I’m not going to like your proposed solution,” I
admit.

“
No, you won’t,” he says.
“But at least you’ll have an idea what you’re looking at if you
stay with him.”

“
I’m not staying with
him,” I say. Giving the pillow a punch, I look up at Diesel. He
wears a flat expression on his face.

“
Who you bullshitting?” he
asks. “You know how this shit works, babe. He’s Forsaken. You
didn’t pick him, he picked you. Sorry you don’t like it. So pick
another club, fuckin’ hook your ass up with a civilian. We both
know that won’t work out.”

“
And if I don’t want to be
with him?”

“
You want my help or not?
Lie to whoever the fuck you want, but not the guy who gave up
freaky pussy to sit here and listen to you bitch about your fucking
relationship.” Silence falls between us, and I let myself stare off
into space. I need a few minutes to chill. Diesel’s right. I may
not like what he’s saying, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
And he’s no Duke. There’s only so much I can get away with with
him, so instead of pushing it like I want to, I just let the room
get silent.

“
Rolled your eyes at him
this morning, then said whatever when he gave you an order. Not
good. Thing is, you didn’t start partying with the club not knowing
the score. Not like this was an accident for you. You’ve got this
club in your blood.”

“
I don’t know where you’re
going with this,” I say in almost a plea. This doesn’t feel like
helping. This feels like a damn lecture. I’m not an obstinate child
who needs to be reprimanded.

“
Way you two handle your
shit in private is up to you, but you cop that kind of attitude in
public and the boys will never vote you in. It’s just the truth. We
got rules for a reason, Nic. Can’t go about breaking them, no
matter whose kid you are.”

“
I feel like I can’t
breathe,” I say, because that’s what it feels like—him telling me I
can’t have my voice. Beyond hate, I loathe the message he’s trying
to get across. “He just…”

“
Only way this club works
is for everybody to be on the same page. Why do you think we vote
on a brother’s Old Lady? Because you being my brother’s girl is a
big fucking deal. Means you’re not just his responsibility, you’re
mine. Somebody fucks with you, they fuck with me. They fuck with
all of us. Can’t take that shit lightly.”

“
I get that,” I say
quietly.

“
Do you?” he says. “Being
the club’s responsibility means that shit goes down and we put our
asses on the line for you. Our wives, kids, our mothers—they take a
step back if you’re in trouble if we vote you in. You get that?
That means I’d die for you.”

“
Wow,” I say and then
huff. “You’re good at spinning a situation, aren’t you?”

“
No spin, promise,” he
says. “Straight up fact. That kind of commitment? Deserves a little
more respect.”

“
Two months, Diesel. Two
months,”  I respond flatly.

“
That was fucked, no
doubt. He needed his asshole ripped the fuck apart over that,” he
says. For just a moment, I think he’s on my side, but then he says,
“Privately. Don’t care that he was being a dick. That wasn’t cool,
girl. Made his dick feel fuckin’ tiny, no doubt.”

“
I know what the club is
and what it’s not. I’m not dumb, but everything else?” I ask.
Because as much as I can’t believe I’m admitting it to myself, I
know the rules, and I broke them. But Duke can still go to hell. I
don’t care what rules I broke. I’m supposed to be his, and he’s in
another room with somebody else. “It’s wrong.”

“
Yeah,” Diesel says, “it
is.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts slapping his
thumbs against the screen. I sit in silence, unsure if it’ll tick
him off if I speak. “The shit we do requires us to be assholes.
Can’t always turn it off just because we should.”