Page 24 of Sever
“Stop. I don’t plan on showing anything off for anyone.”
“Yeah, and you didn't plan on your mouth being molested last night, but that shit sure happened. Besides, I’ve seen you do laundry. You need an update.”
She pulls me over to a table full of silk and lace and I pick up a lavender bra. It’s gorgeous and the silk feels like butter under my fingers. Then I turn over the tag and nearly die. “I can’t afford this stuff,” I hiss, looking around for the sales assistant.
Ah, there she is. Pretending to rearrange items on the table next to us.
“Please, yes you can. You got a raise with the new assignment, and you’re probably the cheapest person I have ever met. Loosen up the dusty purse strings and live a little, won’t you?” She nudges me.
I wince, rubbing at the spot on my rib where her elbow connected. “Fine. You win.”
She rolls her eyes and thrusts a pile of material into my arms. “As always.”
After an hour, I walk out of the store with a shopping bag full of underwear, and a lot less in my bank account.
“Megan!”
I turn to see Jaz and a few other girls walking toward us.
I stop, nudging Chrissy and moving to the side, out of the way of the crowds. “Hey, Jaz, this is my friend Chrissy. Chrissy, this is Jaz. We met at the clubhouse.”
Jaz and Chrissy say hello, and then Jaz turns to the girls with her, all of them wearing very distinct leather jackets. I’ve seen these around the club, but I’m still not sure what they mean. Are they a fashion statement, or . . .
“This is Lucy, Izzy, and Nikki. They are all with brothers, too.” I give a nod to all of them. “We were just about to head to lunch. Do you guys want to join us?”
I look over at Chrissy, who nods emphatically. “Oh definitely. Maybe you girls can hook me up with a single piece of leather-covered ass.”
The girls all laugh and we follow them down the street to the restaurant.
As soon as our orders are in, Chrissy leans over the table. “So spill. You guys are all wearing the jackets that say you’re a part of the club, what’s it like?”
Lucy laughs. “Technically we aren’t part of the club. These are called property jackets. You get them once a brother claims you. It lets everyone know that you’re off-limits.” She looks over at me. “Did Tracker say anything about getting you one?”
I’m confused. “Getting me a what?”
“A property jacket. Now that he’s claimed you, that's the next step.”
My eyes widen. “He did what?”
The girls all look at each other, as confused as I am.
“He didn’t say anything to you about getting claimed?” Nikki asks, but I can't even respond verbally. It’s all I can manage to shake my head.
“Damn men. You know anything about what this means?”
Another shake of my head.
“Lord.” She leans forward, elbows on the table, sizeable breasts resting on top of her hands as she explains. “This means you’re his. As in, you belong to him. No one can touch you. In fact, a guy is caught so much as looking at you the wrong way, unless they’re a fast talker, they’re in deep shit. That goes for brothers or anyone outside of the club.”
“So, wait, are you telling me that now Ihaveto be with him?” My voice cracks in disbelief at what they’re saying. “Like, it’s a rule, or something?”
Lucy shakes her head. “You aren’t obligated to be anything to him.”
“Basically he just pissed on you and marked his territory. Twisted did that crap to me when we first met, I could have killed him.” Nikki moves back so the waitress can place our orders in front of us. The smell of the food makes my stomach roll. I’ve officially lost my appetite.
Killed him, she said.
How apt.
Because that’s exactly what I want to do to that egotistical jackass, right about now.
