Page 105 of Lamb

“Absolute heathens, some folks.” A heavy southern accent filled my ears, and I managed to lift my head to see my saviour.

A woman, perhaps a few years older than I, stood with her arms propped on her side, tight shorts hugging long legs, one marred with a nasty scar, and long brown hair plaited over her back. Although I could not see the colour of her eyes in the dimly lit hallway, I could sense them burning with anger and her lips twisted in disgust. It faded in a heartbeat as she pulled her glare away from the door and pity softened over her features as she took me in.

“You okay?” she asked, leaning down to place a warm hand on my back, rubbing up and down in gentle strokes. “You’re as white as a ghost.”

“I am okay. I am just—” I righted myself into a full stand, no longer hunching over my stomach as I calmed the quivering muscles. “He just surprised me.”

“Being drunk ain’t no excuse for harassing anybody,” the woman sighed, her hand still stuck to my skin. “It’s your first time at one of these parties, isn’t it?”

“Um …” I shrugged. I did not recognise this girl, and although she seemed nice enough, I was not sure how much to share. “Yeah.”

“These things can be a little overwhelming at first.” She sighed, letting go of me at last, now sure I wasn’t about to topple over. My chest began easing, and my breathing loosened. “I’m still a fish out of water myself. Jax likes to keep me tied up at the farm—” She froze, a bright red blush rushing across her face at her words. Pieces began to fall into place, and intuition drove me forward.

“You are … with Jax?” I asked. I was unsure how to phrase it. What would he call his latest obsession with his arm? He was a flirt. And though he would never settle down, I felt a little bitter about this poor girl being dragged along with his sweet promises. She was nothing like the dozens of girls I had seen him with during my short stay last time.

“Shit, I didn’t introduce myself.” Energy flashed up her spine as her hand jumped out, a broad smile on her face. “Name’s Ronnie. I’m Jax’s old lady.”

“Old lady?” I could not hide my surprise. “Sorry, I—”

“I know, I know.” She laughed. “Don’t worry; that’s everyone’s first reaction when I say it. Still feels weird to say it myself.”

Her red blush had softened into a light pink over her tanned features. It suited her. This woman was sweet and far different from what I would have expected if someone had told me the man whore of the century would have settled down with.

“You came with Lamb, right?” Ronnie interjected my thoughts. Her eyes were wide and curious, and excitement breamed from her smile. “That’s just as surprising if you ask me. What bet did you lose to have to spend so much time with him? Don’t get me wrong; I don’t want to offend ya’ll, but he’s a little too sharp for my tastes.”

Our conversation became a monologue of Ronnie’s thoughts and feelings about Lamb, the other brothers, and the club. I paid as much attention as I could, but soon, her words filtered into the background and my own thoughts took hold.

She reminded me of the other old ladies. Of Mallory who I had met at the airport once, deciding to run away from her love out of fear and anger. I had given her the little push she needed to try again, to have courage when I could not. To have things I never could.

It was a hypocritical thought, looking back at it now. I was throwing stones in a glass house.

Even now, I stood on the aged wooden floors of a building I’d nearly destroyed with my actions, soaked with the blood of those caught in the crossfire, and the painful memories of those I had tortured with my words.

Lamb’s sweet promises had wormed into my ears, and I had, for a moment, believed them.

I believed that I could be a part of this world, a part of this club, and a part of Lamb’s life. Have a piece of this world of my own. I was a fool.

I did not belong.

The air vaporized from my lungs. A stone pressed on my chest, and my heart became a dozen horses galloping inside. The hallway began to close in, and the panic grew louder and louder and louder.

“Sorry, I have—” I struggled for breath, fighting to stay composed, to not draw attention. “I have got to go.”

Ronnie stopped speaking, her eyes growing with concern and frowned. “Oh, okay—”

I did not wait for her to finish talking. I turned, fleeing as fast as I could from the hallway, as far as possible from the party. My brisk walk turned into a run the second I turned the corner, and I bolted.

My lungs burned, my head spun, and my legs trembled as I pushed them harder and harder, the endless hallway disappearing under my feet a thousand miles a minute, yet I was going nowhere.

I could not escape.

I was trapped.

I needed to get out.

I n—

Metal slammed against my chest, and a bar lunged into my solar plexus as the emergency door tucked behind the corner flung open and cast me aside with it.

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