Page 11 of Devil's Vengeance

“Want another drink?” Lacey asked, pushing to her feet.

You know what? I was tired of people coddling me. I was an adult. I could stay at a party if I wanted to. I could make friends with who I wanted to. And I didn’t need a man’s permission to do it, either.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Lacey smirked, tipping her head toward the bar. “Damn right. Don’t let a man hold you back.”

As we headed for the bar, I glanced toward where she’d pointed out her old man, who was playing pool nearby. “Aren’t you claimed?”

She scoffed. “And married. So what? He doesn’t control me.” She considered me for a moment as the prospect made us another drink. “How do you know so much about club life? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

I was really glad it was hard to notice when I blushed, because I felt my face heat at her question. I didn’t really feel like I was in the best place to lie, and I couldn’t come up with a good one that fast anyway.

“I, uh… read a lot.”

When she lifted an eyebrow, I wrinkled my nose. “I’m guessing you’ve never read any MC romances?”

“No. What is that?”

By the time I was done explaining, Lacey couldn’t hide her smile anymore. “You’re not serious.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I mean, it’s fiction, so I take it all with a grain of salt, but most authors do their research before writing. They have the basics there. I can give you some recommendations if you’re curious.”

Lacey laughed and nodded, her expression intrigued. “Do it. I’m notmuch of a reader, but this I’ve gotta see. Do the authors even realize how dangerous this life is? It’s not like a rom com or anything. I mean, seriously. Every old lady had something horrific happen to her while getting chased by a crew member. Just showing up here is asking for trouble.”

Pursing my lips thoughtfully, I thought about all the MC books I’d read. “Most authors know there’s a certain level of danger involved, but they also are writing for a specific audience, so they aren’t looking for exact realism. They’re more about the smut than being factual.”

“Baby, why are you talkin’ about smut?”

Lacey looked over her shoulder at her old man, beckoning him with a wave. “Brewer, come here. You’ve got to hear about this.”

Word spread pretty fast about the books I read and I made a few recommendations to those who were really curious. A few even pulled them up on their phones to get a better look. Most of the crew were more interested in the smutty scenes than anything factual. Only Brewer wanted to know more about what people wrote about. He didn’t want some sweetbutt writing things that happened with the crew and trying to make money off of it. I assured him it was all fictional and that I’d never heard of an author who was actually part of club life. There were probably a few out there, but I wasn’t going to make him think it was anyone around here without actually knowing the facts.

I eventually forgot about Chase’s freak out, and the prospect kept the drinks coming as me, Lacey, and a few of the sweetbutts chatted and got to know each other. It was the most relaxed I’d felt since I was taken, and I found myself imbibing probably a little more than I should’ve. Thankfully, I used a rideshare to get here because I wasn’t sober enough to drive myself home when Lacey eventually left with her man and people started to pair off and disappear upstairs.

“Do you need a ride home?” the prospect behind the bar offered. He hadn’t introduced himself, but he was known by the crew and seemed dedicated to doing his job well. He never once complained and was cleaning upwhen I took out my phone to order another ride. I was just drunk enough to admit I needed help, and it felt safer to get a ride from someone the crew knew rather than a stranger.

“Uh… I don’t know. Aren’t you busy?” I didn't want to get him in trouble by pulling him away from his job.

Lining the empty bottles on the bar, he shrugged. “It won’t take more than a few minutes. You live in town or in the city?”

“Why the fuck do you need to know that?”

Ugh. I almost forgot about Chase. He’d steered clear the rest of the night, but I caught him glaring at me a few times. I glared at him back once or twice to show him I didn’t care about his opinion. I wouldn’t admit out loud, especially in front of him, how disappointed I was that he wanted nothing to do with me. He’d been so sweet the first time we met.

The prospect looked unfazed by the growling man. He just shrugged. “I was offering her a ride home. I wasn’t going to do anything shady.”

“Damn right you weren’t,” Chase snarled.

I rolled my eyes and shot an apologetic look at the prospect. “Sorry about him. He’s got a problem with me. You should go. I’m good. Thanks for offering, though.”

The prospect wasn’t interested in getting in between us to argue his point. He just shrugged and went back to cleaning up, leaving me and Chase alone. When I turned to him and raised an eyebrow, he growled in his throat and grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the stairs. I tugged against his grip, but he wasn’t budging and was surprisingly strong.

“What are you doing? Let go. I’ll order a damn ride.”

He shot me a dirty look over his shoulder. “No, the fuck you won’t. You’re drunk. That’s fucking dangerous. We’ve got a spare room upstairs. You can stay here and I’ll give you a ride in the morning.”

It wasn’t what I had in mind, and I preferred sleeping in my own bed, but Chase wasn’t taking no for an answer. He hauled me upstairs and to a room at the end of the hall, throwing the door open and gesturing me inside.

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