“I was such a mess. I wouldn’t have known it even if you’d tried to reach out,” she says.
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask. Barbara’s eyes slide over my shoulder to the table in the corner that houses the only other Lost Girls in the room—Chel and Dawn. Her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow at me. For a brief second I think she’s going to chew me out. Barbara has never made a secret of how she feels about the women who hang around the club. She had a few cautionary words for me the first time she showed up at the clubhouse and saw me with Torque, one of the club members who has been locked up for the last year.
“I’d kind of like it if it was just family here,” she says and wipes her damp hands on her jeans. My face heats and I nod.
“I’m sorry I interrupted.” I put my hands up and give her an apologetic smile. I move to step away from the table when she reaches out and grabs my hand. My eyes fly up to hers, and she shakes her head.
“Not you, baby,” she says. Her eyes slide over my shoulder to the corner where Chel and Dawn sit, and she hisses, “Them.” My jaw goes slack, and I fight to make a sound. My brain is fighting the good fight, trying to tell her that I’m one of them and that even though I’m more selective than either of them is, I’m still a Lost Girl. But God help me, I like this. I like the way she’s treating me like I’m family, and I like the way that makes me feel. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m part of something.
“Um, are you sure—about me staying?”
“My feelings would be hurt if you didn’t,” she says sternly. I bite back a smile and lift my chin.
“I’ll, uh, ask the girls if they can make a beer run or something,” I say. Turning around and making my way across the room, I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself down. The sideways glances both Chel and Dawn are giving me make me want to go to Duke’s room and hide in there until he can take me home. But I go anyway, because this isn’t about me no matter how much I want to make it about me.
“What’s going on with The Hive?” Chel asks, referring to the three Old Ladies across the room. I look down and shove my hands in my pockets. We Lost Girls have always considered the Old Ladies like a hive of bees. Ruby’s the queen, and the rest of them buzz around making sure she’s happy and having her back when she’s not. It’s the reason that, contrary to popular belief, Ruby is the most powerful person in this town. Because if she’s not happy and Jim doesn’t fix it, then she tells her girls about it and then each one of them will tell their Old Man about it. Then when the brothers are sick and fucking tired of hearing about it, Jim finally does something about it.
“Barbara was wondering if you guys can make a beer run or something,” I say then wince. Lifting my head and looking Chel in the eye, I say, “She thinks we’re low for the number of charters that are coming up.”
“She couldn’t have asked me herself?” Chel says. Her eyes narrow up at me, and her tone is petulant. I scrunch up my face in frustration and work to keep my mouth shut. Chel knows damn well why Barbara isn’t going to speak to her directly. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that Chel’s hurting, too.
“You know that’s not gonna happen,” I say.
Dawn scoffs and rolls her eyes. She blows out a breath and says, “It’s not like every one of these guys doesn’t fuck around. That’s bullshit. Barb knew the score when she hooked up with Chief.”
“Look,” I say, now beyond annoyed that I’m having to go there. “Barbara’s just lost her husband. Her kids have lost their dad. She doesn’t want to be in the same room with the woman who’s been screwing her husband on the regular for the last two years. Is that okay with either of you?”
The chair she’s sitting in makes a horrid scraping sound as Dawn stands and puts her hand on her hip. “Listen, bitch. Just because you’re on the back of Duke’s bike doesn’t make you anything but his latest slut. So do us all a favor and get off your jizz-stained pedestal and wake up. You’re not Old Lady material,” she says. Chel squeezes out of her chair and folds her arms over her chest as she moves away from the table.
I take a step forward and pull my hands out of my pockets. All I can see every time I look at her is the scene from that night I walked in on her riding Duke. Try as I might—and I try really hard—I can’t forget the way she stared at me that night. The memory doesn’t come up often, but when it does I can’t help how pissed off I end up being. I thought at the time that she just liked it when people watched, but the way she’s going off right now makes me think that maybe she’s got a thing for Duke and that was some kind of power play.
And fuck that.