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Chapter Twenty: Work Altercation

Naomi

I felt like I was walking a little taller all day, wearing the Old Lady cut Smoke had given me. A symbol of the way he felt about me and his dedication to our relationship, which made it precious. We had only been officially dating for less than a week, but it felt like much longer. We had taken time to get to know each other before we embarked on this, and that was how I knew that I loved him.

I hadn’t told him yet, but I knew it to be true in my heart. Smoke, this man I had a chance encounter with at nineteen years old, was the one for me. It was funny to think we had this connection through having a child together, but it felt like we were always meant to be together. He was my past, present, and future.

Now, he was with Gavin, watching him while I went to work. He’d been doing that a lot lately, and it was probably for the best since Samantha seemed unusually stressed lately. I wasn’t sure what was going on with her, but she looked more and more haggard every time I saw her. I thought she could probably use this break from babysitting. It was easier on my wallet too, which was always a good thing.

Parking my car in the lot behind Sweet Spot, I killed the engine and took a moment to appreciate that I had the car back. When I had sought out Smoke weeks ago, I had no interest in going after him for child support. The years he missed with Gavin weren’t his fault, and I didn’t think he should be responsible for paying me anything for that time. I just wanted my son to have a relationship with his father. But I couldn’t deny it was a relief to have his help financially.

Knowing Smoke had paid to fix my car had provided a lightness that felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Even my breathing seemed to come easier, but it might have just been in my head. The crushing weight of debt could feel suffocating sometimes.

Even without his money, I found that being with Smoke brought me peace. He wasn’t a hot-tempered man, despite his initial anger at me. In fact, the only time I’d ever seen him get truly mad was when Duane grabbed me in front of him, and who could hold that against him? A protective man was a man who cared.

Going into Sweet Spot, I saw the eyes of Duane and a few of the dancers lingering on me as I walked by, no doubt noticing the Old Lady cut, but no one said anything about it. The truly surprising thing was that Duane didn’t talk to me at all. He had been pestering me more and more lately to put out, making me think I might be the only girl at the club that hadn’t given in to him. I knew I never would, even if I weren’t in a relationship with Smoke. Just like Samantha’s idea of selling a prescription drug to fellow college students, it was a line I wasn’t willing to ever cross. Being a stripper didn’t mean that I was immoral.

But today, Duane didn’t say a word to me, and he kept his hands to himself. It felt like a small miracle, but when I glanced back at him over my shoulder, I saw his intense stare burning into my back while his jaw was clenched. Was that the reason he kept his distance? He was scared off by the patch?

It shouldn’t have taken an Old Lady cut to make the man stop being such a creep, but I felt glad for it, anyway. I’d have to be sure to thank Smoke later.

When I got to the dressing room, there were three other strippers in there already and I had to squeeze by Angel and a woman who went by the stage name Sugar as they were standing around talking. But the conversation stopped almost immediately as I passed. I turned to find Angel staring at me with the strangest mixture of anger and jealousy printed across her features. I turned away to pick out my outfit for the evening, trying to ignore it.

Sugar left the dressing room, heading for the stage. The only other woman in the room was Shimmer, who’d been dancing here longer than any of us, and was very popular with the customers. She was on the other side of the room, applying makeup at the mirror.

“What are you wearing?” Angel asked, coming over to where I was stashing my backpack with schoolwork into my locker.

She sounded almost aggressive, and the way she jutted out her hip and crossed her arms over her chest would have reminded me of a stern grade school teacher or principal if she wasn’t wearing a see-through dress made of sheer fabric covered in gold glitter.

I hadn’t talked to Angel much in the last couple of weeks, since we went to Wheelz, and I had the strangest feeling now, that she had only asked me to hang out with her that night because she didn’t want to go to the biker bar alone. What I didn’t understand was why she wanted to go at all when it was clear to me, she was seeing a biker in a different club. I’d seen the scary-looking man with the boa constrictor tattoo a couple more times since that first time I’d spotted them together backstage, and she was hanging all over him every time. I would think they were attached at the hip if I didn’t know any better.

“It’s an Old Lady cut,” I said, taking it off and hanging it in my locker carefully. I had seen the care Smoke took with his own cut, and I wanted to show mine the same respect. I would take good care of it because I appreciated what it stood for. “That’s something that you get from a member of a motorcycle club—”

“I know what it is,” Angel cut me off impatiently.

What is her problem?

“How did you get one? MC members are only supposed to give those to women that they are really serious about, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said slowly, trying to figure out what her point was. “I got it from my boyfriend.” It felt weird to call Smoke that. It wasn’t an important enough word, in my opinion. He wasn’t just some guy I was seeing. He was the father of my child, the only man I’d ever met that I could see myself spending the rest of my life with, and that was a huge deal for me. I never thought I would be able to trust someone enough to settle down, but he was changing my mind about that every day.

“Well, you probably shouldn’t waste your time with those guys anyway,” she said, suddenly dismissive.

“What are you talking about?” I couldn’t resist asking, even though she seemed to be setting me up for that question.

“Rebel Saints are weak, ya know. A bunch of do-gooders that think they’re better than everyone else because they decided to change the rules.”

“Again, I ask, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t get snippy with me,” Angel snapped. “I’m just looking out for you. That club probably won’t be around for long, and I’d hate to see you affected by their elimination.”

“Elimination?” I felt a chill run down my spine at her choice of words.

“Holbeck is prime territory, close to New Orleans, and I’m sure that there are other clubs out there that might want to take it over.”

“Which clubs?” I asked a little too eagerly. This didn’t sound good, and I wanted any information I could get to pass on to Smoke.

Angel just shrugged with an infuriating smirk on her face. “No one specific. Just thought I’d give you a heads-up, for the sake of your kid.”


Tags: Lily J. Adams Rebel Saints MC Romance