Chapter 3

Chapter Three

brISTOL

S hopping. With another woman. Someone named Princess. If it wasn't obvious how she got her name before, it certainly is now. She's a raging bitch who is entitled and thinks that she runs the show, every show, everywhere. She's been rude to at least five of the sales associates we've come in contact with in the last five stores. I don't know the girl, but what I know of her already has my patience wearing thin. I manage to find three outfits that are to my liking and cheap at the same time. I don't want to be indebted to Sebastian or his club.

"So, where'd you come from anyhow?" Princess asks as we pull out of the parking lot of the mall.

I don't know what to say. My brain says deflect. It's not like she would give two shits anyway.

"Oh, I met Maurice and his son when they were on the road the other day and I needed a ride. I fell on hard times and they're just helping me out."

Princess smirks. She already knows my story and the bitch is making stabs at me. I grit my teeth and swallow back the vile words I want to spit at her. I didn't do anything to this woman. Why is she being a vindictive cunt?

"Oh, okay," she muses. Her glittery pink acrylic nails shimmer beneath the sunlight. Her perfectly tanned skin contrasts against the white jean shorts and the bright orange tank top she's wearing.

The ride back to the clubhouse is long and uneventfully filled with small talk of how perfect her life is. She tells me all about how she met Slim and how perfect they are for each other. I don't comment much, mostly just listen and hope that this is over soon because her whiny voice feels like small daggers in my ears. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't already dislike her.

We pull up at the clubhouse and all of the bikes are gone. Great. No one is here. Does that mean I have to sit outside or go with her? Because I'm game with sitting outside. In the heat. Even if it is October, it's still warm here in Mississippi. Back home, we would have already had a few cold fronts and would be walking around in pants and a jacket at minimum.

I step out of the car when she puts it in park and walk to the kitchen door, the one I came in yesterday with Maurice and his son. I turn the handle and it opens. Thank fuck. That must mean someone is here, right? Surely, they don't go around leaving doors unlocked when the place is empty. I don't know much about biker clubs, but I would think they were structured well enough that they didn't leave their shit unlocked.

"Well go on. Go inside," Princess pipes up from behind me, making me jump. I don't remember hearing a car door, so I wasn't expecting her to be so close. Ugh .

I walk inside and go straight to Sebastian's room. I don't know why, but I feel safe here. Maybe because it's small and dark and comforting. I'm not sure. I set my bags down on his bed and change into the one pair of black leggings I grabbed and a fitted blue V-neck.

My body was slightly malnourished in some areas, but for the most part I have meat on my bones. Some may say I could use a cheeseburger but I'm just happy to have what little weight on me that I do.

My shirt shows a good bit of cleavage and I'm not sure if I should keep it on or not when Princess pops her head in the room.

"What's taking so long?" she asks, a cigarette in her hand. The smell of cigarettes makes me want to gag. Patrick always smelled of cigarettes and the memory slaps me in the face. I had only been free of him for less than twenty-four hours and it felt like no time at all and a lifetime simultaneously. That's a place I never want to be, yet here I am finding myself catapulted back into that room with one smell. I cringe at the memory and try my best not to physically shudder.

"I—I was just debating on whether or not I should wear this shirt. You know, because it shows cleavage." I swallow back the bile threatening to rise in the back of my throat.

"Wear it. Who cares what they think? Fuck ‘em if they don't like it." Her words are harsh, almost as if she can't stand them .

I shrug, agreeing with her. I follow her out of the room and shut the door behind me. The clubhouse isn't very large. There are three small bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen-dining room combo. There's at least one bathroom, too.

Princess sits down on the couch in the living room and I sit across from her in the oversized chair Sebastian was sitting in this morning.

"So, is anyone here?" I ask .

She's looking at something on her phone and acts like it killed her to look up at me.

"Yeah. Somewhere. They wouldn't just leave their house unlocked without a member in it." She says the words like she's explaining this to me for the tenth time. I resolve to not ask her anymore questions because fuck her. I don't give a fuck if she's an ol'lady or not. I'll knock her teeth down her four foot nothing throat. I've got a lot of pent-up bullshit that's just begging to be released and she may just be the one who gets it. I try not to let her get to me, but it's a tough battle.

I rush past her out the back door, unable to sit there in that same room with her any longer. I sat trapped inside a room for the last six years and I'll be damned if I ever do it again. Fuck her. The temperature is dropping outside and storm clouds loom overhead. Thunder rolls in the distance and I'm positive that rain is about to start falling any minute now. The thunder grows incessantly louder and I realize that it isn't the storm, it's motorcycles. Four of them.

They pull in and park along the front of the building on the wide sidewalk that looks like it was placed there specifically for parking. I recognize Sebastian, Maurice, and Slim but I don't recall ever seeing the other man before. He's short and stout, with the stature of a bulldog but a jolly smile on his face. His arms are large, much like his shoulders and he reminds me of a gentle giant.

Maurice notices me off to the side and approaches me cautiously.

"Hey, girl. You doin' okay?"

I offer him a smile and nod. "Yep. Good as I can be."

"I see you got some clothes that fit," Sebastian muses from behind Maurice.

"Yeah, thank God. Oversized t-shirts are great and all but it's nice to wear something that doesn't feel so much like a sheet-turned-shirt."

Sebastian quirks an eyebrow at me and smirks. "Good." He chances a quick glance at my chest before he walks off with Slim in tow. The short stout man walks over, and he extends his hand to me.

"I'm Joey. Tattered Saints, Gulfport Chapter President."

I shake his hand. "Bristol, the lost girl who's taking up space at the moment."

That earns me another smile from him. "Take as long as you need. We need a good woman around here."

I almost choke on the laugh I stifle. Even though it wasn't a direct stab at Princess, that's how it sounded. "Thank you."

When Joey walks inside leaving Maurice and I alone, I hug him. I think I catch him off guard because he's awkwardly patting my back for a second before he wraps his big arms around me, embracing me.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for getting me out of there."

"No problem, sweetie. I wish I would've gotten you out much sooner, but it took me a little while to figure out what was going on in there. I'm sorry it took so long."

"No, don't be. It was perfect timing."

I ease out of our hug and follow Maurice inside. I'm curious how long Princess is going to be here. They obviously don't live here, I'm not sure anyone does. I think the rooms are only spares, maybe a place to crash if someone drinks too much? I'll have to ask about that. Sebastian's things aren't in his room, his clothes aren't in the closet, nothing personal there aside from the fact he's slept there recently. I only know that because the bed smelled like him. Other than that, they appear to be guest rooms.

Joey, Slim, and Sebastian are sitting at the table in the kitchen when we walk in. I'm just glad Princess Bitch isn't in here. I've had beyond enough of her antics for one day. I've got my whole fucking life to figure out. What am I going to do with my life? Should I go back to my hometown? The only people that I had were Mom, Dad, and Lane. They're gone. No one else. No aunts and uncles. All four of my grandparents died before I was ten. I have no one.

Princess Bitch enters the room, sucking all the life I had left in me. Her annoyed eye roll makes me want to beat her face in. I consider it for a second longer than I should, but I don't. I'm a guest here. An outsider. The last thing I need is to be thrown out when I've only been here for a day. I'd like to stay here until I can figure out what my life entails from this point forward.

"Can we go home already? I'm done with charity work."

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up but I bite back the hateful words I want to spit at her. On second thought…