“Hey girl,” she said, stepping forward, and surprising me with a hug that I returned awkwardly.
“And this is her husband, Big Al.” I had seen Big Al at Luke’s, but had not had the opportunity for proper introductions. Where Luke was country, Big Al was anything but. His flat bibbed hat, long silver chain and Louisiana accent was a perfect concoction, making him a biker with a hint of street thug. His warm friendly smile was welcome, and I graced him with my own, as he wrapped me in his arms in a comforting hug. I eyed Mary when he pulled away, hoping she didn’t take offense to our hands-on exchange, but she was too busy engaging in conversation with other people; a lot of other people. A throng of others had joined us and consisted of nearly everyone in the clubhouse. “This is my brother Kyle and his wife Katina.” Kyle was a man of few words with a very shy demeanor. His eyes were kind, and his smile warm, but he seemed a little nervous. Katina, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Her flamboyant behavior consisted of a squeal, an exciting smile, and a big hug. Her long brown hair fell virtually to her waist, and its sweet scent overwhelmed my nostrils, just as it engulfed my face when she pulled me to her. Like her husband and many of the others in the Lake Charles chapter, her skin was tanned, and her accent thick. I laughed at her welcome response and accepted her hug. “And I’m sure you remember PROSPECT Chris, but you will address him as Chris.” There was a hint of warning in Luke’s voice, but I ignored it, as I smiled encouragingly at a very nervous, stuttering Chris.
“De-Devil’s Renegades PROSPECT Chris, Lake Charles, Louisiana.” Big Al clapped him on the back in approval, which only lasted a split second before someone hollered for a prospect, and he excused himself. I saw Katelyn looking uneasy and out of place nearby, and started to make my way over to her, but was stopped by Mary.
“She is a PROSPECT’s wife. You are the President’s ol’ lady. Let her come to you.” Gone was the sweet, fun, Mary and in her place was biker Mary, who was very intimidating, even though I had to look down to meet her gaze. If she had been about a foot and a half taller, my blood would have run cold at the look she gave me. I started to protest. I wanted her to know that I had once felt like an outsider myself, and that I felt sorry for Katelyn, but Luke grabbed my hand and led me away.
“Come on, babe. I’ll show you where we are staying.” I followed Luke through the mass of people, and down a long corridor lined with doors that led to private rooms. At the end of the hall, we stopped in front of a wooden door with the word ‘PRESIDENT’ carved into it in a very neat script. I looked behind us, and the door across from ours had the same engraving.
“Is there something special about this room?” I asked, remembering all of the other doors were not labeled.
“Not really. It has a door that leads outside and a bigger bathroom, but all of the rooms are more or less the same.” Luke’s breath blew through my hair, sending shivers down my spine, as he leaned over me to open the door. Inside was just as I had imagined it. In many ways, it was very similar to the rooms at the clubhouse in Hattiesburg. The walls consisted of light brown paneling, with posters of motorcycles, women in bikinis, and a reaper scattered across them. Thin, black carpet lined the floors, and in the middle of the room sat a queen-size bed, with no headboard or footboard, just a frame that kept the mattresses off the floor. The door that led outside was metal, with a slide bar lock that could only be opened from the inside. A small desk with a worn chair and a lamp sat in the corner next to Luke’s bag.
“Yo, LLC. I got your ol’ lady’s shit.” I heard someone yell from outside the door. Luke opened the door, revealing a grinning Possum, holding my bag in one hand and a drink in the other. “I figured she might need this after that long-ass ride with Red and Maddie.” I smiled at him as Luke took my bag, and stepped back so that I could hug Possum. “Good to see you made it, baby.”
“Thanks, Possum. And thanks for the drink,” I said, taking it from him without question, and taking a sip. “Margarita. It’s delicious.” I licked the salt stuck to my top lip, before taking another drink.