“Not cool,” she says and stands up from the couch. She folds her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “He’s at the clubhouse. Uncle Rig just got in from Detroit. They’re having a party.”
“Uncle Rig?” I ask. I assume Rig is a club name and not his birth name. I don’t really care who Rig is or isn’t, the fact that Grady is at some kind of party without me hits me right in the gut. He told me before that he would always be as honest with me as he could be, barring club business that he couldn’t discuss. It’s not something I’m used to—being with a man who has such strict boundaries when it comes to sharing and privacy. Normal couples share things with each other. I already know the answer, but I feel the need to punish myself and ask anyhow.
“Is there a reason I wasn’t told about this party?”
“Old Ladies don’t do parties at the club house. Members only,” Jeremy says. Grady told me what it means to be an Old Lady, and I understand some of it, but not all of it. The emphasis on loyalty, I get. It’s the idea of being loyal in the face of disloyalty that rubs me the wrong way.
Jeremy fixes me with a hard stare, something that I suspect is supposed to convince me to drop the conversation. But I can’t. I put so much on the line this afternoon that I can’t lose him. I can’t lose what we have together. But if Jeremy is saying what I think he’s saying, can I really just sit here while Grady’s out doing God-only-knows-who.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Cheyenne says. “The only women there are super sleazy and not important at all. They just hang around for the guys who are single.”
“So there are women at the party?” I say. I already have the answer, but I feel the need to keep talking before I lose my temper and do something insane like driving down there. “Just not the women they’re committed to.”
“It’s just the way it is,” Jeremy says. “Get used to it.”
All the stories I’d heard about the club and the way the members behave—in and out of relationships—bubbles to the forefront of my mind. I’d never asked Grady if we were exclusive. I had just assumed. He told me he wanted me in his bed and by his side every night when he comes home. He’d said that when things calm down, he wants us to take a trip, just the two of us. We talked about the future with such certainty that I didn’t consider that I’d end up at home playing house with Cheyenne and Lisa while he was out doing whatever the fuck he wants.
And with every passing second, my temper rises more and more. I find that I’m breathing heavy and my heart’s beating in my chest. My muscles strain and my hands ball into fists at my sides. Jeremy loses his interest in me and once again refocuses his energy into the television.
Cheyenne though, she doesn’t take her eyes off of me. Her face is turned down into a pout and she whispers, “Holly.”
But I’m already gone.
Chapter 24
I’M TURNING OUT of the driveway by the time Jeremy notices I’ve moved. He’s on the front porch with his phone to his ear. It’s maybe five minutes door to door at the most, but every block feels longer than the one that came before it. The sun is setting now and the Forsaken Custom Cycle lot comes into focus under the brilliant orange hue. The gates are open halfway but manned by a couple of prospects who I’ve learned are referred to by their stature—Tall and Squat. The parking lot is almost full. A few pick-up trucks and sedans take up the spots on the far side of the lot while there’s a line of more than twenty motorcycles butt up against the brick exterior of the clubhouse.
I pull my Jeep into an end spot and barely remember to put it in park and shut it off before I run across the lot and into the clubhouse. I can hear my name being called by one—or both—of the prospects. Grady said there was extra security because of the Italian guy—whose relationship to the club I’m still fuzzy on—but I have a feeling they’re not after me because I’ve shown up without a prospect. No, they probably have orders to keep the girlfriends at bay.