Page 35 of Sever
“No problem. Jaz told us you were going to need the crash course.” She gestures around the table. “We’ve given that a time or two.” Lucy laughs.
“Okay, grab yourself a sandwich and we can jump into this,” Nikki says, popping open a can of soda. “Jaz said she already told you about the dumbass nickname they stick us with, but one of the big things you need to know just coming in is that there are going to be times when Tracker’s doing things that he just can't tell you about. It doesn't mean he doesn't trust you, but you aren't a brother, and club business is club business. You can't take offense.”
I nod, getting what she’s saying and trying to absorb it.
“Now, those girls over there.” Tracie nods her head to the couch where a group of half-dressed girls have collected. “Those are the club girls. They are here to keep the brothers happy and because of that we have to respect them, to a point.” She stresses the last part of the sentence. One of the girls looks over, as if feeling our eyes on her. Even though it’s only lunchtime, she has a full face of makeup and her hair is teased like she just walked out of an eighties movie. Tracie lifts her chin and with a flick of her hair, the girl turns back to her friends.
“If one of them gives you shit, you don't take it. You're an old lady. Your status holds a hell of a lot more weight than theirs. Don't start problems, but if you want respect around here, you need to finish them.”
I’m not a person who really likes confrontation. Trying to digest the fact that I might have to get into it with these girls is rough. They don’t exactly look like the type of girls to back down.
Lucy snaps her fingers in front of my face, bringing me back to our conversation. “Aside from that, if you have any questions just come ask one of us. You know our names but let me tell you a little more. I’m with Whip, he is the sergeant at arms. Tracie is with Torch, who is our VP. Nikki is with Twisted, who is the president.”
I’m trying to keep up with all the names and faces, cataloging them in case there’s some kind of test at the end, but it’s so hard. It’s not like they have ordinary names.
“Izzy is Twisted’s sister, and she’s with Lady.” She turns to Jaz. “Last but not least, Jaz is with Cutter, and he is the treasurer. We all have our roles and we try to help out as much as possible. Nikki and I usually have our kids running around, but we’re here if you need us.”
Lucy reaches across the table, taking my hand in hers. “We’re family now, and family takes care of each other.”
Sitting here with them, I feel like I actually belong. I haven’t felt like that in a long time.
“I thought you were only working here, why are you in the clubhouse?”
A voice from my past shatters my happy mood.
Alison. Standing there with a smirk on her face.
Tracie looks between us. Lucy’s eyes go wide, and Jaz . . . she just gives me a dig in the ribs. I stand up and turn around, facing Alison and her cronies. I might not know them, but I know their type well.
Same bitch, different day.
I hear a shuffling behind me and when I glance over my shoulder, the other girls are standing behind me. It may not be much, but it makes me feel braver than I ever did in high school. “I’m here because I was invited.”
She rolls her eyes, jutting out a hip. “Hmmm, if you say so. I think we know you can't handle Tracker, though. I mean, come on, Megaton.” She laughs, turning around to her girls, who snicker and sneer at me.
Hearing that name again makes my blood boil. It brings me back to every time in high school that her and her friends would torture me. Every lunchtime I spent hiding in the bathroom. Every sick note I had to fake. Every time I had to scrub my locker clean while tears burned the backs of my eyelids.
“Remember what I said. Everyone is watching,” Tracie whispers in my ear.
My hands fist at my sides and I remind myself that I am not the girl I was in high school. I’m stronger. I won’t be bullied. “Don’t ever call me that again.” My voice is hard, and rough as gravel.
“Or you’ll what? Eat me?” Her finger twirls in her bottle blond hair.
Something inside of me snaps and I slap her across the face.
Her shock is only momentary. Seconds later her expression twists and she lunges at me, screaming. Before I know what’s happening, she has a fistful of my hair and I’m swinging my hands trying to connect with any part of her I can. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back, and when I look around I see a man I don’t recognize.
“What the fuck is going on?” His voice is strong, filled with authority.
“T, this is Tracker's old lady, Megan.” Nikki walks over to him and my mind goes back to the names Tracie mentioned earlier.
T . . .
T . . .
Twisted? Isn’t he the president?
“Seems one of the club girls thought running her mouth and trying to antagonize her was a good idea.”
