Chapter 5

There are a lot of women who come to the clubhouse just to get on the radar of the Blackthorn Riders. Most of them pine after the leaders, and sometimes that results in ridiculous catfights long before Orion, Kai, and Drake even arrive.

Occasionally, Paddy and the other guys manage to break them up and woo them upstairs. Now and then, some of these ladies get banned for the month, which is just ridiculous. Working behind the bar, I get a front-row seat to watch all of the drama unravel.

It does make me squirm a little bit to see all these women trying to make a move on the club leaders. Maybe it’s jealousy; I know that they used to have access to them. According to Paddy, before I got my job here, the president and his close friends used to have one chick or another servicing them upstairs. But all of that stopped when I arrived.

And it’s got me thinking things about them that I shouldn’t.

Tonight is no different. It’s Saturday, and the cats are on the prowl. Short skirts. Knee-high boots. Gold-brushed bangles and shimmering lipstick. Cheap perfume and too much makeup. I watch in amusement while I sweat my ass off, pushing drinks across the bar, waiting for my shift to end.

The remaining prospects are busy arguing over a pool game. Some of the younger girls stop by their table and try to strike up a conversation, only to get harshly rejected.

“The boys are on a celibacy week,” Paddy tells me at one point. “They’re not allowed to get laid before tomorrow at midnight.”

“Another rite of passage?” I ask, smiling.

“Yeah. We need to make sure they’re able to abstain and not act like desperate fools,” he replies. “Although by the look on Jimmy’s face, he doesn’t have much resistance left in him.”

I follow his gaze and see the prospect in question. Tall and lanky in his plaid shirt and Junior Iron Horse leather vest, the guy reminds me of a famished wolf lost between sheep, barely able to contain himself. Two brunettes are currently circling him like vultures, giggling and tempting him with shots of tequila and swaying hips.

“Wait, I know those girls,” I mutter.

“Yeah, they’re The Hammer’s nieces. The Brady twins,” Paddy chuckles.

“Oh, gosh, if The Hammer sees them, poor Jimmy.”

The Hammer is one of the club’s enforcers and Kai’s shadow when he’s doing business without Drake or Orion. A big man with giant shoulders and enough force in his left hook to practically dismember a human being, The Hammer isn’t known for being warm and gentle, especially where his family is concerned. And he loves his nieces dearly.

“Wait, what are those girls even doing here?” I ask Paddy. “I barely recognized them in those skimpy outfits.”

“Yeah, they’re usually more conservative,” he agrees. “The Hammer asked them to come in.”

And then it hits me. “Oh, no. He’s literally dangling them under Jimmy’s nose.”

“I”m testing him,” Paddy laughs. “If he goes upstairs with them, he’s done.”

“Shouldn’t somebody warn him?”

“That’s the point of a test, honey,” he says. “Leave him be. He’ll either pull through or fail like his predecessors. You can’t be an Iron Horse if you only think with your dick.”

I shrug and decide to mind my own business where Jimmy’s concerned, leaving Paddy to try to impress another barfly with his stories from the club’s golden glory days. The local girls are always starry-eyed whenever they come around. I guess they look at this place as though it’s some kind of stepping stone in life.

To be honest, I do see the appeal. Being an Iron Horse’s old lady means you’re protected and well taken care of. You become part of the family, and you’ll never go without.

The money is good. Every club member has a nice house up in the hills, cash in the bank, and at least one custom hog. Plus, the guys all have a strong work ethic and ironclad character.

The club business may be on the shady side of the law, but it doesn’t mean they conduct themselves as dirty criminals. The guys will don a suit and tie if they have to; their salesman skills are so damn good they could sell ice to an Eskimo.

I hear the bell above the door chime, indicating that a patron has walked in.

Carla.

“Ugh,” I mumble to myself as I turn away, pretending to be busy behind my workstation.

Travis is on tap service tonight, and there’s not much else for me to do until closing time since most of our patrons prefer their beer fresh. I serve the occasional whiskey and food orders, but that’s about it.

I don’t like the look on her overly tanned face as she approaches the bar.

“You!” she snaps, pointing an angry finger at me. “You need to keep your filthy paws off my man.”

Whoa. “Wait, what?” I reply, my eyebrows popping up in genuine surprise.

Carla gets closer to the bar, the rage in her eyes pulsing louder than the music on the stereo surround sound. I look around, wondering if anybody else is aware of what’s going on. Travis is pouring beer, the prospects are arguing over their game, and the girls keep trying to tempt them. Paddy’s still preoccupied with telling his glory days stories.

I see other club members chatting across the bar, nestled in their wood and leather booths, stiff drinks under their noses. But nobody seems to care. Honestly, I don’t know why they should. Whatever Carla’s beef is with me, I’m sure it’s just a big misunderstanding.

“I see how you look at him!” Carla says, her shiny pink lips twisted with disgust. “Struttin’ your big boobs in his face all the time. What, do you think I’m blind?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I calmly reply. “I’m just here doing my job.”

“Orion is mine! I’m gonna be his old lady. Everybody here knows it,” she says.

I don’t recall Orion being that fond of her, but I’ve heard Travis mention that Carla may be somewhat delusional where he’s concerned. She’s still a patron of the clubhouse, though, and I need to remain calm and professional until I’m told not to.

“I apologize, Carla, but there’s been a misunderstanding,” I say with a flat smile. “I have no interest in Orion or any of this club’s members, for that matter. My father is a former Iron Horse, and I’m just working the bar for the summer.”

She narrows her eyes at me as I fight back the urge to smack her across the face with the whiskey bottle in my hand. I’m gripping it tightly enough that I could just swing it and end this. “I’ve heard about your old man. Big money, huh? You think you can just waltz in here and buy yourself a seat at their table?” she tries to taunt me.

I’m starting to think that Carla’s not exactly the brightest bulb on the tree. “Excuse me?” I ask, my breath leaving my body in sheer surprise at such audacity. “Carla, respectfully, you don’t know me. And you certainly don’t know my father, either. I have been nothing but courteous up to this point, but you’re starting to cross a line.”

“With or without your daddy’s money, you’re still just a twenty-something skank itching for Orion’s attention,” Carla says. “I see you for who you are. We grown women can sniff the ho’s out a lot faster than the men. And you, honey, you fucking reek. Keep your paws off my man, or I will cut them off.”

“You know what?” I chuckle darkly, my carefully honed manners fading into the background. “From what I’ve seen, Orion has turned you down one too many times. It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to take the hint.”

“You know nothing. He’s just busy. We spoke earlier on the phone,” she shoots back, insecurity twinkling under those big, thick, fake eyelashes. “He’s coming over for drinks now.”

“It’s his bar; of course, he’s coming over for drinks,” I reply bluntly. “But since you’re so convinced that I’m some kind of competition, I might as well just go ahead and screw his lights out.”

Carla’s face drops, and the world around us disappears. I no longer hear or see anyone past that startled expression of hers. It gives me tremendous satisfaction to see that she’s so easy to rattle. Maybe I am being a tad mean and petty at this point, but she asked for it. And if there is one thing I will never do in this life, it’s succumb to the pressure and the threats of a frustrated, small-minded bully.

“In fact, I think I’m gonna screw all three of them,” I add with a wry smile. “I’m sure all of us will thoroughly enjoy it. I think they’ll welcome sharing an old lady for life since none of you spineless, trick-turning jokes have the guts to really handle them the way they deserve to be handled.”

“What the fuck would you know about hooking up with the three of them?” Carla mutters. “You have no idea what work that takes.”

“Oh, but I look forward to the hard labor. And given how careful they’ve been around me, turning the likes of you down since I came to work here, Carla, I think I’ll have no trouble there whatsoever.” I lean forward and give her a hard look—the hardest I can summon. “I suggest you stay the fuck away from me. Or I will keep my word and take your precious Orion before you can even blink.”

Orion’s voice cuts through the background noise, sharp and loud enough to make my skin tighten. “Well, this is quite the conversation I’ve walked into, isn’t it?”

Holy shit.

I freeze, but I dare not show my horror to Carla. She’s just as terrified, likely wondering how much of this conversation Orion actually heard. I cannot move. I can only turn my head slowly to find him standing to my left, on the other side of my workstation, one eyebrow arched upward and amusement sparkling in the black depths of his eyes. When he smiles, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes deepen. “Hey, boss,” I manage, my voice barely a whisper.

“I suggest you both knock it off before our customers start tuning in as if we just dropped a new episode from their favorite trashy soap opera,” Orion replies, bluntly enough to knock the air out of my lungs.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

But he’s not as bothered about me as he is about Carla, giving her one hell of a glare. “And I suggest you stop harassing the bar staff, unless you want to get tossed out of here.”

I give Carla a brief look. Her eyes are as round as saucers, but there’s a mixture of emotions swirling through them. Anger, outrage, fear. Frustration aplenty.

“Orry, I—” Carla tries to object, but he waves us both away and goes upstairs.

I’m left reeling and red-faced, wondering how much he actually hear from this conversation. It could be grounds for firing my ass. It would make my dad laugh aplenty. It would make me look like the ultimate idiot. Dammit, Nadia, you and your smart mouth.

Carla takes a deep breath, then grabs her drinks and walks over to one of the tables, eager to entertain other bikers. Well, at least she knows to keep her distance from now on—hopefully. I am beyond embarrassed, however.

So embarrassed,in fact, that when my shift is over, I go straight for the whiskey bottle. I need some alcohol to take the edge off, otherwise I won’t be able to even sleep tonight. One shot. Two shots. By the third shot, there’s only a couple of late nighters left by the pool table, while Paddy is busy locking the beer and soda fridges, occasionally glancing my way.

“Aren’t you going home, kiddo?” he asks at one point.

But I pour myself a fourth shot and give him a wry smile. “Not until I’m hammered enough to call myself a cab.”

“Bad day, huh?”

“You have no idea,” I reply.

Paddy chuckles softly, then goes on about his business, turning the music down in the process, while I’m on my fifth shot and tipsy enough to consider texting an apology to Orion instead of working up the courage to go upstairs and speak to him in person—because the latter is impossible. I’m too ashamed and far too proud. Or scared. Or all three. I’m not sure, but I do know I will never live this down unless I try to make amends, at least.

As I sit in the semi-darkness of a vacant corner booth, my fingers dance across the onscreen keyboard of my phone, my draft message shifts from apologetic and polite to something quite passive aggressive.

Sorry your ex keeps pushing my buttons, I write, then delete the whole thing. Surely, I can do better. But the more I drink, the weaker my reasoning as I start imagining putting my words into action.

Taking the three of them at once. Holy hell, what would that be like?

I meant every word, I write in another tentative draft. I want the three of you taking turns, and then I want all three of you inside me. Not gonna apologize for that, but I do apologize for entertaining Carla’s hissy fit.

There. That sounds better.

I laugh, well aware that I’m never gonna send that message. My phone slips as I try to set it down. I manage not to drop it on the floor, however, and leave it on the table while I pour myself another drink. The last one. I reckon I’m drunk enough to go home, now. I’ll apologize tomorrow. Sober and whatnot. I shouldn’t have played into Carla’s BS with such ease.

Footsteps thud down the stairs, and I raise my gaze from my glass just in time to see Orion as he reaches the ground floor, giving me a hard, dark, and strange look. All of a sudden, my senses are flaring, my spine tightening as tension builds up in my chest.

“Boss?” I mumble, my voice merely a whisper.

“Would you mind stepping into my office upstairs?” he replies.

“Everything okay?”

“Move it. NOW.”

He’s got his sights set on me, and I don’t think I can escape whatever wrath is headed my way.

I take a deep breath and nod once.

The music has stopped altogether. Paddy watches as I walk past him and follow Orion upstairs. It’s so quiet, yet so loud in my own head. But I muddle through because I am responsible for the consequences of my actions. Boy, was I a fool for thinking I’d get off so easy.

I was looking to humble Carla, to get her to back off, and now I’m headed upstairs for what I assume will be an earful.