Chapter Three
Isabel
"So," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as three hard-edged bikers stared at me.
A few minutes ago, Skinny brought me downstairs and sat me down at one of the tables in what he called the clubroom. He told me to wait here for the VP. A few of the members were already seated at the table eating so Skinny introduced me to Hawk, Jordan, and Sam along with another prospect named Bobby.
I nibbled on the donut Skinny brought me while they looked on. After a while, I felt the need to start talking.
"Anyone watch Sons of Anarchy?" I asked with a smile. When no one responded, I wondered if I offended them so I tried to fix it. "You probably don't watch it because it’s not really accurate when it comes to real MC life, right?"
There was still no response. The blank expressions on their faces seemed to mock me more than any words could. I could do nothing but look between each of them in my anxious way.
Jordan was tall, dark, and handsome. His face had sharp angles, and he shaved his dark hair close to his head, making him look dangerous. Hawk, who was obviously Native American, was also gorgeous, but he wouldn’t even look at me. Sam had the friendliest posture since he just tilted his head at me in curiosity. His hair was cropped short and the curly red color along with his round face made him seem approachable, but the tattoo of a knife on his neck said the opposite. I could tell Bobby was still a teenager by his baby face under a brown mop of messy hair. He was big though, like linebacker-big.
When the silence became deafening, I tried again. "What about Game of Thrones?"
Crickets.
"Orange is the New Black?"
"Don't tell me you're all fans of The Vampire Diaries?" I let out a nervous laugh.
Clearly, they did not watch TV much. I bit my lip. What else could I have in common with them?
It was the morning of the first day, and I was ready to give up on Greyson’s plan.
Last night Greyson had told me that the club voted to offer me protection. He explained that my dad and uncle worked with another club called the Snakes and that something probably happened to make the Snakes want to silence them both. Greyson had been gentle as he said that by sending me here, my uncle did the right thing.
He had also imparted their plan to hide me. The story was that I was a Heart that was exiled from an Aces charter out of state and that they were willing to take me on. I did not like the plan, especially after I asked what a Heart was, but Greyson seemed to think I could handle it.
After that, he had taken me outside to walk around the building and through another entrance stating that I should stay hidden tonight since there were hang-arounds in the club. Up two flights of stairs, he’d shown me into a room with just a cot in it and told me to stay there until someone came to get me in the morning. Fortunately, the room had its own bathroom.
I hadn’t slept very well. And since I was sans cell phone, I had no distractions as I waited for the sun to rise. Skinny had knocked on the door at nine. “Morning, Izzy,” he’d said. He then explained that Greyson had decided to start calling me Izzy because it sounded more “club”. Skinny had seemed surprised to find that I was dressed and waiting on a perfectly made cot. What he didn’t see was that I’d rearranged and organized my entire suitcase three different times before he arrived. I’m a morning person.
He had taken me the opposite way that Greyson did the night before so I could see the main room of the clubhouse. Although, it couldn’t be called a room. It was bigger than just a room. It must have been a warehouse or maybe a factory at one point. All the windows were toward the ceiling, but they were large.
To the right, when you walked in, there was a long bar with lots of stools, and tables were scattered throughout the room. In the far corner, there was a kitchen with industrial appliances, and in the opposite corner, stood a stage with stripper poles and couches around it. Next to that was a metal staircase leading to another door. The walls were covered in graffiti and flags. American, Irish, Mexican, Canadian, POW MIA, and Confederate. They seemed random, but I was relieved not to see a swastika anywhere.
I was back to nibbling on my donut when I heard a deep voice behind me say, "College.”
I turned to find Rem glaring down at me.
Of course, he looked just the same as last night, dangerous male perfection. I was hoping my overanxious brain had made a mistake, making him seem more handsome than he really was. I was sure in the harsh light of day I would see all the flaws and no longer think of him as Adonis.
Alas, my brain was spot on.
Rem looked even better in the light of day. I could tell his eyes were more of a gray than strictly blue and his dirty blond hair had a little red in it.
He jerked his head to the side in a clear order for me to follow him as he walked toward the stairs. I felt my heart flutter as I jogged to catch up.
Most of the guys were good-looking, but there was something about Rem that made my stomach tighten in that girly way.
I hadn’t felt that way about a man in a while. I was never great with the opposite sex, and by the time I was over my ugly duckling phase, I was over high school boys, too. I’d looked forward to college, but it only took a few dates to figure out that college boys were just as immature as high school boys.
The men of the MC were a completely different breed though. Normally, I would shy away from a guy with tattoos and a scowl, but not Rem. He made me want to move closer and breathe in his strength. Yet I had no clue how to get close to a guy like him. My failed attempt to make conversation with his friends proved it.
I struggled to keep up with his long strides. He moved so quickly that it was like he was trying to keep his distance. Once we were through the door at the top of the stairs, he proceeded to the room three doors down on the left. There were three sets of bunk beds against the far wall and a couch with a TV to the left. To the right was a bathroom and the carpeted floor was littered with women’s clothes and shoes.
He pointed to the top bunk on the far left and said, "I think that one is empty."
I looked at him and bit my lip as he spoke. His voice was so gravelly and smooth at the same time.
When he caught me staring, I just smiled and said, "So, um, there are no dressers?"
He shrugged. "I think the girls share the clothes so there is no need for separate dressers."
"What if I don't fit into the clothes?"
I felt my nipples tighten as he looked me up and down. "You'll fit," he said simply.
He started to walk out, but I didn’t want him to go just yet. "Umm, are you sure this is best place for me?"
He blinked at me.
"I mean, I'm not sexy, and I don't know the first thing about being flirtatious.”
Oh my God, Isabel, don’t be such a dweeb.
“I mean, I'm not a very good liar, so I don't know how I'm going to act like a slut. Not that I'm judging them. In fact, I envy their confidence—"
"Listen, I don't give a fuck how you pull it off.” He growled at me. “But my club is on the line for you, so you'd better make it work." With one last glare, he walked out and slammed the door on his way.
That craving to be closer to Rem suddenly disappeared with his cruel words. I felt the moisture in my eyes before I even realized I was upset. That was harsh, and my little crush was obliterated.
I quickly shook my head and looked at the ceiling. I was being stupid, anyway. Now was not the time to think about romance. My family was in danger. I wondered what my dad was doing right now, hoping he was on his way here.
It was safe to say that I was a daddy’s girl. Without my mom around, there wasn’t much choice. We were always close, taking care of each other. I pictured him at home in the mornings, coffee in one hand and his iPad in the other, his black hair still ruffled from sleep and his reading glasses perched over his eyes that matched mine. Those Sunday mornings when we had nowhere to go were always for catching up. I could see that knowing smile of his in my mind, the one he always wore when I had a problem that needed solving. Now that he wasn’t here to help me, I felt lost. He was always the person to turn to but now he had his own problems, and, in order to help him, I had to stay away. It just felt wrong.
I went to the bathroom and bent over the sink. The cold water on my face felt good, and it seemed to help my rolling stomach. I came out and looked around the room again, unsure where to start.
"Hey."
I glanced up to see a blonde woman standing in the doorway. "You must be Isabel." She came into the room and offered her hand with a gentle smile. "I'm Sophie. Greyson's wife."
I smiled back and took her hand. "It's nice to meet you." Up close, I could tell there was gray hair mixed in with Sophie’s long blonde locks. Her face was round with some laugh lines, but still looked youthful. It was refreshing to know all biker babes weren’t haggard looking.
Stop with the stereotypes, ugh.
"Greyson told me all about their plan to hide you," she said and then grimaced as she looked around the room. "If it were up to me, I'd give you one of the empty rooms, but Greyson insists on maintaining the illusion."
I swallowed and wrapped my arms around myself. "I really am grateful for his help, but I am in unfamiliar territory."
Sophie reached out and cupped my arm just above the elbow. "Let me help," she said. "Why don't we start with a tour? Get your bearings. Then I'll search for a dresser or at least some plastic drawers for you to use."
Sophie quickly filled me in on the history of the clubhouse. Apparently, it was originally built to be the offices and factory of a potato chip company. Sophie said the offices downstairs were still used for club officers while the upstairs were turned into bedrooms. Most of the single members lived in the clubhouse, while the attached members had homes in the area. I had to catch myself from asking where Rem lived. It wasn’t my business. And he was a jerk, anyway.
The building next door was the auto garage that the club owned and operated. Then the big warehouse behind the clubhouse was just for parts and storage. Sophie finished the tour with the kitchen, stating that I was welcome to any of the food and could use the appliances any time I liked. She also asked me if I could cook.
“I can, I just don’t get a lot of opportunities.”
Sophie gestured to the bar where we both sat down on a stool. “Why don’t you get the opportunity?”
“Well, I don’t like to cook just for one while I’m at school.”
“What about at home?”
“Well, it’s just me and my dad. And on the weekends I do come home, he usually wants to eat out.”
Sophie lowered her voice as she said, “Do you mind me asking what happened to your mother?”
I just shrugged. I really don’t like talking about it, but it was better to get it done. “It was cancer when I was six.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She reached out and cupped my arm again.
This was the part I hated, the pity. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”
Sophie just nodded in understanding.
Desperate for a change of subject, I said, “So what is expected of the Hearts?”
Sophie’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Like are there assigned chores—”
Sophie laughed. “Hell no. Those girls don’t do chores. Their only job is to open their legs whenever and wherever.”
“Oh.” I blushed. “Well, seeing how I won’t be doing that, is there anything I can do to help out?” Even though my uncle offered money to the club, I still felt like I owed them.
Sophie was about to reply when she was distracted by something over my shoulder. I looked back to see Rem glaring at me from the doorway to the offices.
"Is there something I can help you with, Rem?" Sophie asked. His gaze shifted to Sophie. Then he simply turned and walked away.
"I don't think he wants me here," I whispered to Sophie.
Sophie hummed as she stared at the door, and then she looked at me again, a sharp focus to her gaze. "Are you on birth control?"
"Uhh." I was thrown by the sudden question, but I decided to answer. "No. I'm not sexually active so there is no need."
The older woman just nodded and said, "It might be a good time to start."
I felt my cheeks burn. "Why?"
"Well the next couple of weeks will be stressful, and living with those other girls might mess with your cycle."
"I guess that's true." I didn’t think I would be here long enough for that to matter, but I didn’t want to fight her if she was trying to look out for me.
"Good. We’ll take you to the doc. He is a friend of the club so we won’t have to tell him any of your real information."
"Oh, okay."
I asked Sophie about her kids, and I found out that she had a son who was in college and daughter in high school. Kevin and Sarah. Although she tried to hide it, I could see Sophie’s disappointment that Kevin didn’t come home very often. However, her daughter was another matter. Sarah wanted to be part of the MC, and her parents were having a hell of a time keeping her at bay.
“We allow her at the family parties, but she can never stay late. And I don’t think Greyson will ever allow his baby girl to participate in the other parties,” Sophie said with a smirk.
Her statement made me wonder about these parties. I was envisaging a more adult frat party, but now I’m worried I was missing something.
I needed to know so I asked, “So what can I expect at the parties—”
“Shit.” Sophie whispered.
I gave Sophie a confused look, and then I heard, “Who the fuck is this?”
As I turned, a skinny blonde and an even skinnier redhead were standing there looking right back at me. These must be the other Hearts. They both wore low cut tanks with the Aces logo, ripped daisy dukes, and wedge sandals.
“Izzy, meet your new sisters. This is Tracy and Jessica.”
“Why is she here?” Tracy asked with a sneer. She didn’t even lower her sunglasses when she spoke, so all I saw was a skinny nose, a pointy chin and lips that seemed a little too full for her face. Jessica’s face was a little more rounded, making her look younger. She also had large green/blue eyes that were just stunning.
“You know why. She is a Heart now, and you are expected to help her.”
I could tell that Tracy was the classic mean girl, so I tried to stay relaxed. To act nervous or scared would be like slitting my wrist near a shark.
“Hmm.” Tracy walked a circle around me. “We’ll have to say that we felt sorry for her or something. The boys would never want someone so pudgy to suck their cocks.” She gave a smug laugh and started walking toward the stairs.
“So you’re saying they prefer the crack addict look?” I said, giving Tracy my own up-down look and a gentle smile. I actually surprised myself with that comeback. Maybe I could be a mean girl, too.
Tracy turned quickly and yanked the sunglasses off her face. My first look at her eyes told me she was definitely older than Jessica, maybe mid-thirties. Either that, or she’d had a rough life so far. She also hadn’t removed the smoky eyeshadow she must have worn the night before, making her look like a raccoon. She made her way back to me, and I tried not to flinch as she raised her hand.
Fortunately, the hit never came. Tracy was looking over my shoulder at Sophie. Suddenly, her snarl turned into a disdainful smirk.
“Come on, Jessica,” she barked and turned back to the stairs.
The redheaded clone ran after her.
When I turned to Sophie, she had her hands on her hips and her legs spread as if she was Wonder Woman. So that’s why Tracy backed off. Sophie is a badass.
“So those are the other girls, huh?”
She finally looked away from the stairs. “There’s also Amy. But you’ll get along with her because she gets along with everybody.” Then she tilted her head. “Well, except Tracy.”
“I have a feeling she is going to be a problem.”
“Just remember not to take her bait.” Sophie’s lips pulled into a satisfied smile. “And whenever you get really angry with her, just think about how many times a week she has to take it up the ass.”
I laughed. “I’ll remember that.”