Page 22 of Panther's Magpie
She sobs into my chest. “I’m sorry about your shoulder.”
“Shh. Don’t even worry about it. Now tell me, how did you get hurt? Was it the Asher guy?”
“No. He was trying to get me to leave when another member came up. Asher lied about who I was, but the guy still wanted me. I tried to knee him, so he hit me. I smashed a glass against his head, then ran,” she tells me.
“Who is this Asher guy? Why do you trust him?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He seems to want to keep me out of danger. He said he was helping Aspen.”
“How could he help her if he’s a bartender?” I point out.
“He was wearing a cut too, only his said prospect.”
My whole body tenses.
Prospect.
He is trying to be part of their club.
We tried finding out who Asher was based on her description but couldn’t find him. Now he’s a prospect? That’s not a coincidence.
“Maggie, do you know what a prospect is?” I ask her.
“No.”
“It means they are trying to join the club. He is trying to be a Ragged Anarchy,” I tell her.
“He’s not helping Aspen, is he?” she whispers.
I hold her tighter because I don’t want to admit it out loud.
Asher isn’t helping Aspen at all.
CHAPTER
SIX
MAGGIE
Stepping out of the shower, I dry off. Quickly I get dressed and begin getting ready for the day even though I know I won’t be leaving the clubhouse again anytime soon. After drying my hair the best I can with a towel, I study myself in the mirror. I can’t help but wish I had some makeup with me. In our hurry to get on the road, it must not have made it into my bag. I shake my head and try to push my vanity to the side.
I guess some of the things I heard my mother say when she was present stuck after all. I just wish it was something more meaningful than making sure I’m presentable before I leave the bathroom. Looking down, I get to work and apply some more ointment to my hand and put another bandage on.
I flex my hand, making sure the bandage sticks. It’s kind of crazy to think that I only went back to the bar yesterday. It still aches from where the glass was embedded, but it’s better than it was. What bothers me the most is that I know even after it’s healed over and the scab is gone, I’m going to have a redline. Anytime I get hurt, it takes forever for the wound to fully disappear. One of the disadvantages of being as pale as I am.
As soon as the thought hits me, guilt sets in.
What the hell is wrong with me, and when did I become so superficial?
How can I be worried about a fucking mark when Aspen is out there needing me?
This isn’t like me at all…or is it? Is that why Aspen kept so much to herself?
Sighing, I leave the bathroom and head down the hall to the main area. I pause when I see Panther sitting at the bar with a glass of water in front of him.
What is he doing here?
Yeah, this is his place, but he seems to avoid it, or should I say avoid me. I fully expected to see Meek or Eagle, but not him.
