“You cannot fucking be serious, why would any of those three men choose to settle down with you when they could have whoever they want.” Speaking of those three men, Scar’s in the middle of this giant circle but where are the other two?
I look around the best I can but being that I'm shorter than most I don't see them. Instead of sticking around to continue this argument with Haley, I push my way through the crowd and step out into the middle of it with Scar and the guy that he's still letting ramble. The men around here will like to give people a chance to redeem themselves, I on the other hand would have beat the shit out of him without questions.
I get that from my father.
As I push through the crowd and walk toward the two of them, a couple of people that don't belong to the club call out toward me and suggest that I don't get in the way, one or two of them even suggested I might get hurt. One particularly brave man tries to move into the circle to pull me back—at least I think that's what he was going to do—he didn't get the chance because a very large, tattooed arm strikes out across his chest and holds him in place.
Bell.
Once I was in the middle of the circle it wasn’t hard to find them. Bell’s tall frame and Pyro’s red hair kind of stick out around here.
“Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?” I quote The Lion King movie to Scar because I just can't help myself, and a couple of men from around the circle chuckle.
His face was already marked up when he got here, and most of the guys get their road name from other patch members, Scar got his from me. I called him Scar the first time that I met him and it just stuck.
“He was trying to explain why he was being so rude; you would think that people would hear the stories from around the club and not do stupid shit. Also, I saw you over there with Haley and I was waiting for you.”
“When you put men and alcohol in the same place people are always going to do stupid shit. Haley doesn’t need the alcohol though, she does stupid all on her own.”
I stand close to the two of them crossing my arms over my chest and cocking my hip to the side, the man in question is either very drunk or very stupid because he doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's looking at my ass. Even after I told him I have three boyfriends he isn’t able to behave himself.
“You must have a death wish.” Scar growls and grabs the back of his neck again.
“She sticks it out there! She wants it to be looked at!” Honestly, I don’t see how standing like this is asking for someone to look at my ass, but I don’t bother arguing with the man.
“Dude, you really are stupid.” I can't stop myself, my arm swings out as hard as I can and strikes him across the face. My knuckles burned from the impact, but I'm satisfied when a little trickle of blood comes down from the corner of his mouth.
“See around here we respect our women, we protect our women, we don't like when men put their hands on women without permission. That goes for all women, not just the ones we claim. You probably chose the worst person in the entire bar to touch. Out of every single woman in there that was dancing and grinding and wearing two little clothing, you picked the president's daughter. You picked the Ol’ lady of 3 of his officers. You picked the wrong one.”
There are murmurs in the crowd, mostly the people that hadn't been informed that I was dating the three of them. Granted he didn't say any names but anyone in the club could guess who it is, even before I was dating all three of them, they tend to hang out with each other. Like their own little group, only now they’re my group.
“Shit, dude I didn't know!”
“Of course, you didn't know. You didn't ask. You also didn't ask permission to touch, the punishment for that is a broken hand.” Scar shrugs his shoulder like this is an everyday occurrence, and I guess in some ways it is. I don’t know everything about the club, but I bet it hasn’t been more than a week since they tortured someone for one reason or another.
The guy tries to get away, but Scar grabs him by the back of his shirt and pulls him to the ground. He squeals like a dying pig and tries to fight but he isn't able to get away. Scar wrestles one of his arms out, away from his body, and then stands on his forearm to hold it in place. He looks up at me silently asking if I want to do the honors and I grin like the Cheshire cat.
The crunch of the hand underneath my boot vibrates to my hip—and even though there are plenty of people between us—I hear Zoe’s gasp as the man screams.
Scar steps off of his arm and drags me against his body, when we are flush against each other he bends me back slightly and kisses me hard. My hands both go to the opening of his cut, very clearly clutching it and pulling him against me. When his tongue slips over the seam of my lips and he deepens our kiss, a round of whoops and hollers circle us.
If there had been any question as to who the other two guys were it was gone when they join us. Bell slides up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, even though Scar is still kissing me. I know it's him because of his height but also, I can smell him.
While all of the guys smell a little like leather because of their cuts Bells is overpowering. It's like instead of getting any hint of the man that's underneath, it's all leather. His hair, his skin, his jeans, he might as well bathe in the scent, but most of the men have a dirt or a grease smell to their leather smell. He doesn’t.
“Alright!” My father’s voice rings above the crowd. “You two cut that shit out or take it somewhere I don’t have to see it!”
The crowd breaks up but instead of going inside I walk over to my car and lean against it, lighting a cigarette.
There are a lot of people at college parties but this is a whole different scene, and while six months might not seem like a long time it's gonna take some getting used to being back in the clubhouse. Aside from that, I don't know the last time that I have been touched as much as I have by these three men in the last 12 hours. It’s almost like they're passing me around, one of them always having an arm around me, sometimes more than one of them is touching me.
I fucking love it but I also feel kind of on edge.
“Did you just break that guy's hand?” Zoe takes the pack of cigarettes from me and lights one, leaning against the car beside me.
“I did. He’s lucky he didn't get a lot worse. The last guy that decided to push up on me in the clubhouse ended up getting kicked out and never allowed to come back, this man only got his hand broken.” I expected some sort of shock or a gasp or maybe even a little bit of disgust but instead, she looks… proud? I don't know what the look on her face is, but she's not scared.
“I have a feeling I am going to need a few tricks of my own in the future.” Her words seem innocent enough, but I know they're not, she's getting strong feelings for these guys and she's considering making it a permanent thing. Don’t get me wrong I would love to have her around here, another girl in the clubhouse that I don't mind spending time with would be great, but I don't want her to make the decision lightly. Being the Ol’ lady to a biker comes with certain responsibilities, it's a different kind of lifestyle and not everybody is cut out for it.