what we have here,” Gaylord said, looking up from his pool game when Sassy entered the Devil’s Angels clubhouse. “I’d know that fire-engine red hair anywhere.”
His gaming opponent propped his pool stick under his chin. “She’s a friend of yours?”
Gaylord sashayed toward her, copping a strut that made her sick to the quick. The sorry bastard actually thought she was there for him, or for all of them. As hard as it was for her to digest the possibility, some women actually enjoyed the attention from an entire clubhouse. Some of their broads liked being passed around.
“Where’s Damsel?”
“He ain’t here,” Gaylord replied, smacking his lips as he stared at her breasts. “But I got what you need, honey. I promise I can please ya.”
“I need to talk to Damsel.”
“What do you want with him?” A female voice filled the room. Sassy turned to face off with the woman she’d seen with Damsel at the country service station.
“I have a message for him,” Sassy said, looking the broad straight in the eye. “Are you his old lady?”
“I might be. You’re the gal from the market. Aren’t ya?”
“Yes.”
“Thought you belonged to Logan Marcs.”
The sound of his name rolling off another female’s tongue brought with it a reaction she’d never expected. Jealousy spun in her veins, and she could tell right away that Damsel’s old lady was pretty impressed by Logan.
Apparently Logan left an impact on all MC women. She’d picked up on that fact the previous night when she’d been at the Heroes and Rogues’ clubhouse. The broads shot her looks of contempt while the other biker old ladies shunned her.
Logan was a wanted man.
“Did Logan send you over here with a message?” Victory asked, motioning for her.
Sassy took cautious steps. She approached the bar and determined what she wanted to say, how she planned to warn this young woman before her.
Victory frowned. She didn’t trust her. Victory probably wouldn’t believe just anything from anybody. And Sassy was a stranger to these people.
Plus, they clearly thought she belonged to Logan, which placed her in a very dangerous position given the clear cut animosity between the clubs.
“Can I talk to you?”
Gaylord and the other guy approached. They took a seat at the opposite end of the bar. “You two girls have a little chat. I encourage female bonding around here.”
“Me too,” said the other one. “It’s best for the new broads around here to listen to the old ladies. You might learn a thing or two. Experience matters, and the old ladies know what the boys around here like.”
“Boys,” Sassy muttered. “You got that right.”
Gaylord ground his teeth. “Don’t walk in this club spewing insults, hon. I’ll whip that sweet ass all the way to my bed if you ain’t careful.”
Her heart thumped a little harder. That was, verbatim, a threat she’d often heard from Damsel. Perhaps he taught a class on how to handle women when a man wanted to disrespect his broad, or any woman in general.
“I’d like to talk to you privately. Would you mind to take a walk with me?”
“I’m cooking. Dinner is on the stove,” Victory said, pointing toward what must’ve been the kitchen.
“Can we talk in there?”
“Sure,” Victory snapped. “I can’t wait to see what you and I would potentially need to discuss.”
Victory lifted up a wooden plank and Sassy followed her behind the bar and through the kitchen, leaving crude remarks in her wake.
Once they were alone, Sassy made a point to keep her distance, recognizing the protective nature of the old ladies. Back in the day, Sassy’s mother had been a real firecracker, ready to fight for Damsel at every turn, over anything and everyone, particularly a woman.
Her mother became a drunkard, too. Thanks to the party lifestyle and the numerous broads, Sassy’s mom drank herself into a stupor. When she finally took her own life, she left a note behind. Damsel was asked to
His gaming opponent propped his pool stick under his chin. “She’s a friend of yours?”
Gaylord sashayed toward her, copping a strut that made her sick to the quick. The sorry bastard actually thought she was there for him, or for all of them. As hard as it was for her to digest the possibility, some women actually enjoyed the attention from an entire clubhouse. Some of their broads liked being passed around.
“Where’s Damsel?”
“He ain’t here,” Gaylord replied, smacking his lips as he stared at her breasts. “But I got what you need, honey. I promise I can please ya.”
“I need to talk to Damsel.”
“What do you want with him?” A female voice filled the room. Sassy turned to face off with the woman she’d seen with Damsel at the country service station.
“I have a message for him,” Sassy said, looking the broad straight in the eye. “Are you his old lady?”
“I might be. You’re the gal from the market. Aren’t ya?”
“Yes.”
“Thought you belonged to Logan Marcs.”
The sound of his name rolling off another female’s tongue brought with it a reaction she’d never expected. Jealousy spun in her veins, and she could tell right away that Damsel’s old lady was pretty impressed by Logan.
Apparently Logan left an impact on all MC women. She’d picked up on that fact the previous night when she’d been at the Heroes and Rogues’ clubhouse. The broads shot her looks of contempt while the other biker old ladies shunned her.
Logan was a wanted man.
“Did Logan send you over here with a message?” Victory asked, motioning for her.
Sassy took cautious steps. She approached the bar and determined what she wanted to say, how she planned to warn this young woman before her.
Victory frowned. She didn’t trust her. Victory probably wouldn’t believe just anything from anybody. And Sassy was a stranger to these people.
Plus, they clearly thought she belonged to Logan, which placed her in a very dangerous position given the clear cut animosity between the clubs.
“Can I talk to you?”
Gaylord and the other guy approached. They took a seat at the opposite end of the bar. “You two girls have a little chat. I encourage female bonding around here.”
“Me too,” said the other one. “It’s best for the new broads around here to listen to the old ladies. You might learn a thing or two. Experience matters, and the old ladies know what the boys around here like.”
“Boys,” Sassy muttered. “You got that right.”
Gaylord ground his teeth. “Don’t walk in this club spewing insults, hon. I’ll whip that sweet ass all the way to my bed if you ain’t careful.”
Her heart thumped a little harder. That was, verbatim, a threat she’d often heard from Damsel. Perhaps he taught a class on how to handle women when a man wanted to disrespect his broad, or any woman in general.
“I’d like to talk to you privately. Would you mind to take a walk with me?”
“I’m cooking. Dinner is on the stove,” Victory said, pointing toward what must’ve been the kitchen.
“Can we talk in there?”
“Sure,” Victory snapped. “I can’t wait to see what you and I would potentially need to discuss.”
Victory lifted up a wooden plank and Sassy followed her behind the bar and through the kitchen, leaving crude remarks in her wake.
Once they were alone, Sassy made a point to keep her distance, recognizing the protective nature of the old ladies. Back in the day, Sassy’s mother had been a real firecracker, ready to fight for Damsel at every turn, over anything and everyone, particularly a woman.
Her mother became a drunkard, too. Thanks to the party lifestyle and the numerous broads, Sassy’s mom drank herself into a stupor. When she finally took her own life, she left a note behind. Damsel was asked to
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