“Well, you’ll be happy to know the amendment included a stipulation that you remain dancing at Tit for Tat Saloon until instructed otherwise. You keep your side hustle — with restrictions.”
Side hustle.
Hell for Leather property.
“What is my responsibility?” I ask, choking over a whisper.
“Damage control. Just like before. Except, no one touches you but my men.”
My eyes flick to Coty. His chest is heaving, eyes eclipsed. “Y-you are all sharing me? All weekend?”
Kal steps back and addresses his club. “There is a caveat. You can thank Coty or curse him, whichever you prefer: the original non-committal rule still stands but has been expounded on. Lace aside, committal is monogamous — none of you are allowed to touch anyone other than her. You are hers just as much as she is yours.”
Unsure how to process this information nor what to say in my defense, I open my mouth and ask the one thing I have always wanted from them but never received: “Does that mean I will be in the know? That you’ll explain to me what you all do on the side every time you come down here?”
“Not sure what you mean, Lacinda. This isn’t our territory. The Gulf Coast belongs to the Rolling Stones. We are just here for Bike Week, remember?”