Book 1 in the Steel Daggers MC
Emersen
You got this Emersen. Walk in there, find Chelsea, and everything will be okay. I hope. The truth is, things haven’t been okay between Chelsea and me for a while now. In college, we had been complete opposites, but I thought we balanced each other well. Her outgoing personality and my quiet one worked when we roomed together.
We graduated about six months ago, and we haven’t seen each other much. We stopped talking and hanging out altogether about a month after graduation. Chelsea surprised me when she called me last week and invited me to a costume party on Halloween at a bar she is working at.
I almost didn't come, but my interest won out. Where has she been? My hand hovers over the handle to the vibrating door. I’m about to walk away when the man at the door interrupts my inner battle.
“You going in, or what?” The man is well over six feet and built to cause damage. He’s got a black leather vest on with Steel Daggers on one side and Sergeant At Arms on the other. Judging by the look he’s giving me, I doubt the man is wearing a costume.
I look down at my costume that I had so much fun picking out and smile. I remember when I was a little girl and my momma would take me trick or treating. We used to have so much fun for those few uninterrupted hours. I loved getting to play dress up with momma and spending time with her. Stew didn’t like going trick or treating with us. So, one day a year we could be together not worrying about my stepfather.
“Look, babe, it’s in or out. If you aren’t coming in, you need to leave.”
“Do you know Chelsea?”
He quirks an eyebrow at me but stays silent. There's something there, recognition maybe?
“Right. Okay, going in then.”
He opens the door for me, and as soon as I walk in, I immediately know this is a mistake. The people closest to the door stop talking and stare. Yep. I’d stare too if I were them. I look around the entire bar and see that no one is wearing a costume. In fact, most of the men I see are wearing leather vests like the guy outside. Am I in a biker bar? Chels didn’t say anything about it being a biker bar.
Not seeing Chelsea, I decide I can’t do this and turn around to leave without making a bigger ass of myself. Before I get to the door, I hear someone call my name. I look back and see her waving me over to where a group of women standing and staring. I really don’t want to go over there, but I do, for Chelsea.
I feel the eyes of everyone I pass and my skin begins to crawl at the awareness of being watched. I know they’re laughing at me. I hear their sarcastic comments about what I look like. Every step I take, I regret my choice to walk in here.
“Emersen. I can’t believe you came!” Chelsea yells over the music and hugs me quick.
“Hey, Chels.”
She releases me and stumbles backward, but rights herself by grabbing onto my arm.
“Girls, this is my friend Emersen I told you about.”
They nod. Not ‘Hey, I’m so and so, nice to meet you.’ It’s basically a fuck off, in the form of a chin lift. Yep, my night is rocking. Not! I can’t believe she invited me to this and let me think it was a costume party when it apparently isn’t!
“Uh, Chels. Why am I the only person in here wearing a costume?”
She just laughs and shrugs. The girl is wasted. She can’t stand still, and her eyes are glazed over. Great, she’s going to be no help.
“Come on, let’s go get you some water,” I tell her, grabbing her hand, trying to pull her over to the bar.
“No, I love this song!” She screams and runs out into the crowd of people dancing.
“So, no costumes?” I ask the women standing near me. They eye me over but go back to their own conversations.
“Alrighty then.” Used to being ignored, I let the sting of their rebuff roll off my back. I need a drink if I’m going to stay for this, which I feel obligated to do now that my once best friend is here, out of her mind.
I push through the groups of people and eventually make it to the bar. The men sitting there staring at me, but quickly go back to their conversations.
“What can I get you doll?” The man behind the bar asks. He’s tall and is wearing a leather vest like everyone sitting here at the bar. He's younger than some of the guys in here but older than me. He’s in his late twenties maybe. He's got a kind face but looks like he's seen too much to be free from the pain of regret.
“A shot of whiskey.”
“You got it.” He says, pouring it quickly and handing it over.
I grab it and shoot it quickly. Not used to the taste or the burn of it going down my throat, I shiver. I set the shot glass down on the bar, and the bartender laughs and asks if I want another. I hold up a finger, and he pours me one more, sliding it over to me.
“Thank you.”
Still smiling, he nods and watches me take my second shot. This time the cool liquid goes down easier.
I’m wearing a black tutu with a black corset laced with ribbon down the back. The cherry on the top of my embarrassing sundae is the black wings attached to the corset. I wanted to be a dark fairy, but now I’m left feeling like an idiot.