Page 60 of Ruthless Obsession
“This is the residential kitchen,” Tonya says, waving her hand with pride.
My eyes scan the space—floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with oversized canned goods, a massive double-door fridge, and a six-burner stove big enough to cook for an army.
“Poppy—Rogue’s OL’ Lady—and I usually handle meals for the MC.”
“I can help out in the kitchen sometimes too,” I offer.
Tonya beams. “That would be great. We could always use another pair of hands.”
She leads me through the industrial kitchen tucked behind the bar at the front of the clubhouse.
"The residential kitchen is stocked with food and snacks," she says. "Help yourself to whatever you want."
I nod but frown slightly. “I don’t think Mavis will be comfortable with me roaming the clubhouse at night. He’ll probably bring me what I need himself. He’s already talking about enclosing the bathroom into our quarters.”
She laughs softly. “Yeah, I can see that. He’s definitely not letting you roam after dark.”
Her eyes take in my outfit.
“I love that hot pink on you.” She grins.
“Thanks.”
“Do you think Mavis will have a problem with you wearing the tank with all that cleavage around his brothers?”
“That’s a good question. It was chilly this morning. I wore a hoody over it. He didn’t see it. I’m not hiding my body to appease him.”
I found a t-shirt in my bag—white, withRoyal Bastardsstamped across the back andRuthless’s OL’ Ladyin black bold on both sides.
I’m not wearing that shirt.
“Think I’ll make a salad and then take a nap. I’ll be out later. Sundays aren’t busy are they?”
She chuckles. “See you this evening.”
∞
As if the hot pink tank top earlier wasn’t pushing it, I slip into a yellow strappy sundress that stops mid-thigh. My hair’s pulled back into a low ponytail, keeping it simple but cute. I’d packed extra clothes and shoes in Mavis’s duffel, so I’d have more to choose from while we’re staying at the clubhouse. Riding in with both my bags strapped to my back, arms around Mavis’s waist as he cut corners on his Harley—it had been a hell of a ride. Smooth. Fast. The kind that makes you forget your ex-boyfriend is looking for you.
Anyway, Sundays at biker clubs can be hit or miss, but I’m guessing the vibe is chill tonight. I step out of the room and lock the door. As I head toward the bar in gold sandals, low whistles sound off around me.
A biker band performs on a small stage outside the gaming room. That’s cool. My eyes move around the room. There are several women sitting on big burly bikers’ laps. Some of the women wear biker cuts that read property of Royal Bastards.
I hadn’t heard from Mavis all day. Is he ok?
Every stool at the bar is filled. I raise a hand flagging down a bartender. “Hello, what can I get for you?” The bartender flashes a grin. Her green hair brushes her shoulders.
“Cheeseburger and fries and I’ll have a vodka on the rocks.” I place the black card on the weathered bar. Cigarette and cigar smoke waft through the air.
Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth.
“Please don’t. Just keep the tab open. I’m Sophie and you are?”
“Karla.” Sadness fills her eyes as she prepares my drink.
What’s wrong with her?
“Hello, big fella,” I say to the biker sitting on the stool.
