“Fuck off,” Puck said, standing abruptly. “Becca, you want another drink?”
“Yeah,” I said, wondering if I’d get in trouble for kicking Deep under the table. Might be worth it.
“I’ll be right back,” Puck said. “Deep and Demon will make sure you’re fine out here, won’t they?”
Demon nodded, smirking as Puck walked away.
“You scared him off,” I accused.
“Yup,” Deep said. “Wanted to ask you about Carlie.”
I shook my head. “I don’t have anything to tell you.”
“You know she used to fuck him, right?”
“This isn’t a conversation I need to have.”
“I think you do,” he replied, “Because I hear you’re BFFs now, and that’s weird. Girls don’t do that. What the fuck is going on?”
Was this really happening? I’d forgotten how fast gossip spreads in clubs . . . and since when did bikers call people BFFs? Common wisdom said it was women who liked to talk, but it’d been my experience that the guys were even worse.
Case in point.
“Is it so odd that two women would exchange a friendly hug?”
“Yes, especially when one of them’s fucking the guy the other one used to fuck.”
“Why do you care?”
“Carlie is mine. I want to figure out what’s in her head. Maybe you can tell me.”
That stopped me, and I frowned.
“What?” I asked.
“She’s mine.”
“But she was sleeping with Puck.”
“I’ve banged half the women here tonight, even some of the old ladies. Doesn’t change the fact that Carlie’s mine. I want to know if she’s over Puck. What did she say to you?”
This was possibly the strangest conversation I’d ever had. I knew one thing for sure, though. Sharing what Carlie had said to me violated the Code.
“She just wanted to say hello.”
Deep stared at me and I stared back, neither of us blinking. That’s when Demon started laughing. “You’re fucked, bro. Get over it.”
The moment broke and I decided to focus very carefully on my sandwich. This discussion needed to end. Fortunately, another man came and sat at the table, joining the brothers. He didn’t bother talking to me, which was fine. Those potato chips weren’t going to eat themselves. I needed to focus.
“You hear the news?” the new guy asked.
“What’s that?”
“Bozeman chapter—president’s old lady kicked him out. Caught him screwing around on her.”
“She’s a bitch,” Demon said. “Always has been. He’s better off without her. Not sure why they were still together anyway.”
“Money,” Deep chimed in. “You know her family’s loaded, right? He shoulda left a long time ago—she’s been trying to lock his balls up for years. Man can’t live that way.”
Great. Not only had Puck left me alone, he’d left me in a nest of sexists. Of course, most of the guys here probably fell into that category . . .
“Women should stay home,” the stranger declared. “Money gives them ideas. Bitch has her own money, she talks too much. Thinks she’s the boss.”
“Excuse me,” I said abruptly, standing. “I need the restroom.”
“Puck said to wait,” Deep told me, reaching out and catching my arm. His voice was serious, and while he wasn’t squeezing my arm, I realized he wasn’t playing around, either. “So you wait.”
The fear I’d thought was gone hit me in a rush. I was surrounded by big men. Scary men. They could do whatever they wanted, and I couldn’t stop them. Puck wasn’t here.
“Okay,” I whispered, swallowing.
“Jesus, don’t be a dick about it,” Demon said to his brother. He looked at me, face serious. “Not everyone knows who you are yet, Becca. Puck just wants you safe. That’s why he asked you to stay with us. Deep’s just pissy because you won’t tell him what Carlie said.”
I swallowed, trying to convince myself that Deep might be big and tough, but on some level he was still a whiny little boy who wanted a toy. Not that it changed anything. Boys broke toys all the time.
“Here’s your beer,” Puck said, settling down next to me. “Everything okay?”
Locking eyes with Deep, I nodded.
“Peachy.”
—
I hadn’t been drunk earlier, but now? Yeah, the room was definitely swaying. I was in a ridiculously tiny bathroom, furiously washing my hands. I’d been stupid enough to touch the toilet seat, and while I had no doubt it had started out cleanish (Darcy didn’t strike me as a woman who tolerated filth), I wished I’d just peed outside. Some of those guys weren’t so great about their aim . . .
Puck waited for me in the hallway. I’d just finished wiping my hands on my jeans (the paper towels were out—should I mention that to someone?) when I heard the shouting. Opening the door, I peeked out cautiously. Puck was gone. More shouting, coming from the main room, then a loud crashing noise.
Shit.
I crept out, trying to make myself small. I didn’t want to get in the middle of a fight, but if Puck had left it was for something serious. Hiding in the bathroom just wasn’t an option.
A group of girls stood at the end of the hallway, watching and chattering in excitement.
“What’s going on?” I asked before realizing one of the girls was Bridget. She was too excited to play bitch, thankfully.